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siscon-stsg · 2 days

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could you write a scenario about gojo fucking his sweet little virgin and innocent sister. When he looked so long her cunt, she blushed and said;

Nii-chan, p-please don't look at it

I love your writings <3

(CW: incest, innocent and virgin reader, my bad writing and not beta'd, satoruniichan being manipulative cuz yeah that's him. name-calling. oral (f receiving). corruption. degradation if you squint i guess? finger-sucking. cliff hanger cuz i'm evil)

THANK YOU PRETTY BABY YOU'RE THE BESTTT!!! i'm kissing you on the mouth mmmmmmwah c'mere. i suck at writing full pieces, haven't done it in literal AGES, but i did my best for you!! so sorry if it sucks!! my brain hurts i am not used to thinking for long periods of time. /j

satoru's eyes were impossible to escape from. he'd always make you feel naked under his gaze, like two stars sucking the light out of the night sky.

but now they gazed down at you with such hunger it was almost threatening.

“hmmm,” he hummed with a grin, long fingers tracing aimless patterns all over your wet cunny; “don' close y'r legs, pretty. don' ya wanna make your big bro happy?”

and that only made you whimper more. what was so entertaining about this? you struggled not to close your thighs around his pretty head of white hair. “niichan! don't look!”

your parents could be home any minute! what would they say if they saw you like that? knees to your chest on the living room couch, satoru inspecting you down there like he was eyeing a ring at a jewelry store!

he played with your puffy lips, rubbing them up an down. he pulled down the hood around your clit, he stretched your entrance to the sides with both thumbs; only to laugh at the sticky trails of pussy juice drooling down from it.

“why not?” satoru had to laugh at you. some nerve you had to complain, really, when your little pussy was drenched and pulsing, so far untouched. he spat on you, spreading it around your pink flesh with a thumb, and smirked when it got you all squirmy.

“c'mon, be good 'n stay still”. a firm, steadying hand pressed down on your tummy. “y're more than old 'nough to still be a virgin, y'know? i'd be embarrassed if i were you”.

was that true? was not having sex at your age that bad?

satoruniichan always had so many friends, did so much better in school than you, was always dating one girl or another... he'd know about that sort of thing, right?

after all, you were always picked on for being the prune little sister. your parents never approved of any boy you had a crush on, and being a good daughter you never went against their wishes.

satoru caught on your dilemma quick. he leaned in close, blowing his hot, tickly breath teasingly over your clit. “wan' big bro to change that?”

“change w-what? hm!” you moaned. this time you couldn't stop your thighs from closing when satoru's lips sucked on your clitty, slurping loudly until you cried out.

“pop y'r cherry, dummy,” your big bro chuckled. “that way, y' won' be so pathetic anymore”.

the name stung, “pathetic”. tho you could barely think about that with satoru loudly licking, slurping, kissing, burying his face into your pussy. nose into your clit, and purring. arms hugging your hips so you can't escape his hungry stimulation.

you couldn't even think, only moan and shiver. were big brothers even supposed to do this sort of thing to their little sisters? but then again, it felt so good!

satoru pulled back with your clitty slurped between your lips, giddy for the cute cries you let out. “'nd?” he said, voice much deeper and husky than before.

“c'monnn, say yes!” his cheeks puffed up and satoru pouted, like a spoiled child begging for candy. only that this “child” was rubbing your clit in tight frenzied circles with his thumb, not slowing down even as you trashed and squirmed and whimpered. satoru dove tongue first into your soppy hole, muffling his words in your sloshy muscles: “d'y' wanth t' be p'thethic 'll y'r lwife 'r noth?”

“n-niichan!” is all you could say, or cry. your muscles were stiffing up, specially down your belly. satoru seemed impatient, because his tongue swiftly exchanged placed with two long, too long fingers that crooked inside your virgin pussy. he felt around, until finding your gummy, sensitive little walls.

he thrusted and thrusted from his wrist at a sadistic pace, laughing at you and at your slutty teary face. you were going to be such a whore, he just knew. “wanna cum, huh? my pretty sluts wan's to cum?”

“y-yeees!”

your clit felt on fire under his slimy tongue. your walls were spasming, pussy crying as much as your eyes and it was like your body was made of jelly. you shivered and cried, and when your back arched, hips bucking against his hand, your eyes saw heaven and stars twinkled behind your eyelids and

satoru stopped.

“noooo! no! why'd you sto- mmph!” his slick fingers stopped your whining by thrusting down your throat. you almost gagged, throat and pussy convulsing in synch.

the albino sat back on his heels without pulling back from your mouth; one hand fumbling with his sweatpants until it came out springing. angry red, leaky, pulsing, and he rubbed the tip of his dick a couple times against your slit with a deep grunt.

“didn't give ya permission t' cum, did i? now open up f'my cock, slut”

#tw.incest #tw incest #dd:dne #big bro/little sis #big bro gojo #tw.dark content #dead dove do not eat #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru smut #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #tw dark content #this was one of those stories that literally wrote itself #i just put my pussy on the keyboard and this came out sorry

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astromaxi · 5 hours

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Hi!! I saw your post about being open to req's and was wondering if you could do a yandere jjk x reader one!

Snow leopard hybrid gojo would not leave my mind and i've been rotating a scenario in my head about reader smelling a bit too much of other men. But they aren't dating and gojo's is starting to go insane about it and so confronts reader bout it.

i mean you could do it without satoru being a hybrid, i don't really mind. i'm just craving for a yan gojo rn

I AM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE

HOLY SHIT- SCHOOL SUCKS

BUT I'M ALMOST DONE YAY

Warnings: slightly possessive Gojo, crappy writing, maybe full on possessive Gojo, Gojo having a scent kink thing, so mdi (?) 18+ (?), Gojo really loving your smell and but also calling you smelly (I’m scening a slight theme with my writing…)

As always lmk if I miss anything and this isn’t proof read so grammar mistakes 🫶

———-

Fem reader!

‘Jesus Christ I want to quit my job’ was all that was running through my head as I walked up the sets to my home, my feet crying out for relaxation after the horrible treatment of a 9-hour shift. All I want to do right now is to curl up in my bed and cry.

I open my front door, and at the same time, my phone starts to ring off. Huffing I close the door and set down my bag, I awkwardly shuffle through my pockets to see ‘Gojo’ lighting up my screen. An exaggerated sign escapes my lips as I answer the call. “Hello?” My horse voice spoke out, “I’m coming over! I see you off of work” a very happy Gojo responded to me, I looked down at my disgusting work clothes and the overall quality of how I felt, “Gojo- look, I don’t feel like hanging-“ “Great! I’ll be over in 5 minutes.” Was all I heard before the abrupt sound of the call being hanged up. I roughly made my way to my bathroom, if Gojo is coming over might as well look decent.

The thing with Gojo is, that he has been becoming increasingly clingy to me. Especially knowing days when I have work it’s almost as if there’s some sort of thing growing inside himself. I tend to brush him off whenever he buries his head into the crook of my neck, his long lengthy arms curled tightly around my stomach, or when he invites himself to stay the night but insists that I wear his clothes. I brush it off as Gojo being himself as he is usually very overly touching with everyone in his life- but sometimes- sometimes, it feels a little off.

I sighed as I heard my front door opening and closing I wrapped a large towel around my body. I run my fingers through my wet hair as I cringe at it being tangled up. I slip on an old hoodie and a pair of shorts, using the towel to dry my hair I set out of the bathroom and I’m immediately pushed against the wall nearby. My vision gets clouded by a mop of white hair and twitching light grey ears, as Gojo buries his head into the crook of my neck.

“Mm-Gojo!” I yelp in surprise as I place my hands on his solid chest trying to move him off of me

Keyword: trying

Gojo slips his hands down my arms, creating goosebumps in his wake as he grabs my hands with his own and places them around his midsection. His own hands find home on my hips as I feel an aggressive sign flow out of him. “M’ not Gojo, it’s ’Toru to you” his voice is horsed, and Gojo buries his head more into my neck- if that’s even physically possible. “You smell like other guys.” Gojo bluntly says,

I raise my eyebrows at him, my hands are mindlessly playing with his Snow White hair. “What do you mean ‘Toru?” I ask, the man-child before me lets out a groan. He raises his head from my neck and stares at me with his ocean-blue eyes. My heartbeat picks up as I feel my face heat up. Wordless Gojo tilts his head to the side, his eyes turn to something more obsessive. His pale hands travel up my body to cup my face, the air in my lungs gets stuck in there.

“You smell. Every day, every single day you always smell and it’s driving me insane.” He leans into me, our lips inches apart as his eyes dart down to my lips. “You should only smell like me, only be with me. I can give you so much baby.” His right-hand caresses the side of my face. I shake my head

“ ‘Toru you..” I let out a shaky sigh “You don’t want-“ “I know exactly what I want baby.” Gojo cuts me off, his breath growing more aggressive.

His lips move to the shell of my ear. “I want, no- need you baby. I need it so badly you don’t even know the depth of it” he whispers in my ear as he goes back to face me. “You need me to, I’ll prove it to you.” I nodded my head, allured to the words Gojo was feeding me, our lips connected as he immediately pressed the kiss. His arms cage me against this wall. My knees feel like they are going to give out.

“I’m going to show you just how much I need you baby.”

—————

A/n: this isn’t really that yandere, kinda forgot about that while writing this LMAO

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satari-raine · 6 months

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My graduate thesis - after (somehow) successfully defending it last week to my committee team - just got officially accepted by my school. Time to become a blanket burrito and (try to) sleep forever out of relief that it's finally finished.

#Satari rambles #Hi there and howdy #I have occasionally poked in on here to talk about the whole graduate school thing #I'm just so glad it's done now #One of my committee members had to observe my teacher last night for class and he announced I had successfully defended it last week #And I don't know #Just seeing him and the other members and then my classmates proud #Got a little emotional #Even if it still feels surreal to have written as much as I did and even if I have some conflicting feelings about the end result #Since I did a creative fictional thesis #But I really am happy it's done and I'm almost done with school #(Granted I'm scared for what comes after especially with finding work right now among other things but that's for later)#But yeah #This has been the usual Satari is a dork who rambles in the tag night (even though it's only the afternoon right now)#Please tip your service staff #Have a wonderful timezone everyone #Also my committee head bought me some books to celebrate and oh my gosh I love that woman #She's so dang kind and it was really touching #People are so wonderful sometimes #I hope I can give some of that wonder back even if as a fraction

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thevoidshere88 · 2 days

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┐⁠(⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠￣⁠)⁠┌

#y'know just thinking ive had a lot of run ins with almost dying #since i was a child i had a severe breathing problem that mom said it looked like my chest caved in when i breathed #besides that point i got hurt running in school cracked my forhead open #got attacked by an abused pitbull almost killed me it was trying uts vest to go at my throat i dont even remember what age i was #ate medication at 4 or 5 idk what age i was and had to get my stomach pumped but they over filled my stomach #out of my sister's ive been the most sickly and visited hospitals often as a child #it seems like they've all forgotten all that ive been through and dont take my health seriously anymore #i feel like my mother cared more about me as as a child then as an adult i am incapable of taking care of myself and they know that or just #ignore it all together #i am having so many health problems that might be serious but i know i cant go to them to go see a doctor because nothing ever gets done #when i do ask so its pointless to ask anyone at any given point #plus the mental side of things too i ask for help i dont receive it my mom takes my lil sister's health and mental problems the most #serious that the seriousness of mine gets washed away and ignored #and i cant leave them i cant go somewhere else to live because i have no money coming in and no friends where i live so I'm stuck #their is alot i dont remember about my childhood and alot of the stuff i do is not happy #just feel like ive been dealt a bad hand in the family aspect #i dont think ive ever felt truly cared for a day in my life since growing up to now #i might be really in my feelings and in my head a lot because its the time of the month but idc #my mom says the scars on me are scars on her heart but i dont think she really cares to know a lot of my scars physical and mental are #because of her #yes i blame her #i love her i do but i still cant forgive her for alot of what shes done to me and caused me to feel as a young child

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happy74827 · 7 months

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No Ordinary Life

[Sam Riordan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: The group had almost ran out of options on what to do with Sam, but Andre had decided there was still one more option to explore. And that option, was you. (GIF credits: @heronamedhawks)

WC: 1,179

Category: Slight Fluff, Slight Angst

We don’t know much about Sam as of right now, but I do know I would literally die for this boy. He and Emma really deserve the world, and they fr better have their happy ending (which seems impossible given the universe they live in, but one can hope). This definitely deserves a part 2, depending how well it goes, but for now enjoy the purity that is Sam.

Edit(2023): Hey I finally made the part 2, check it out here

『••✎••』

As Sam walked down the bustling halls of Godolkin, he couldn't help but feel like an outsider. All around him, kids with extraordinary powers, kids like him, were chatting, laughing, and walking to their classes. They were able to use their gifts freely and openly, and they were respected by others for it, but Sam didn't have that luxury. Honestly, he couldn’t remember a time that he did.

All he remembered was the woods, his brother, and the constant pain of being hunted.

His hand unconsciously traveled to top of his head, pulling the hoodie that Emma had lent over to him farther over his face as he tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It wasn't easy when the hallway was completely crowded by nosy students, but he did his best. That’s all he could really do.

Emma and Marie (as he found her name to be) were by his side, protecting him for the skewing eyes of others. For the most part it worked, except it drawn more attention to her due to that odd system that Emma had acknowledged him about. A rating, whatever that was.

It was cool to know that his brother had been ranked number one, though.

If Luke was still… No, don’t think about it, Sam.

He shook his head, ridding himself of that train of thought. There was no point in dwelling on the past, and thinking about his brother wouldn’t change anything. He was gone, and Sam was left alone.

His thoughts were interrupted by Jordan, who he was still slightly confused about. He? She? They? They seemed to have been good friends with his brother and they were friendly enough, so Sam didn’t really question the matter too much.

Plus, he kinda enjoyed the subtle sarcasm that Jordan would once in a while use. It made him feel like a kid back in school. So for that, Sam was thankful.

“Dude, this has got to be the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,” Jordan had said, turning to the guy walking besides them… Andre. Sam didn’t know what to make of him, or anyone really. He had always been so closed off from other people, that now it was almost a bit overwhelming.

But at least he had Emma, so he didn't have to worry about the social aspect too much.

Andre gave Jordan a sideways look, a small smirk on his face. He seemed pretty chill too.

“Listen, I don’t like this anymore than you do, Jordan,” Andre stated, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But with everything happening, and with Cate… this is our best option.”

“Yes, let’s bring the kid with a bounty over his head into the place where they’re all going to be looking for him. Great idea, Andre. Seriously, how did I not think of it first. Soooo smart of you, dude. Good job. I'm so glad we're friends, really I am.”

Jordan rolled their eyes, and Andre just looked away in annoyance. Then, to Sam’s dismay, an awkward silence fell over the group. Once again, Sam was struck by just how different his life was now. It was like he was suddenly thrown into another world, and he had no idea how to function in it. He was so far out of his comfort zone that he couldn’t even see the zone.

Sam glanced over to Emma, and saw her smiling encouragingly at him. He tried his best to return the gesture, but he felt like his face muscles were going to fall off if he forced them any longer.

After what seemed like hours, but really only a couple minutes, Andre halted in front of a random dorm room door, and turned to face the group. He sighed, his face set into a look of grim determination. Then, he knocked.

Three times, Sam counted. Three knocks.

The door opened almost immediately after, and the man who answered had to be the most handsome human being Sam had ever seen. He had short black hair, a sharp jaw, and a dazzling smile. It was actually kind of intimidating.

“Whadda’ want?” the man asked, his voice a rich baritone. Sam didn't know why, but it felt like the man was judging him. His eyes scanned over the group, lingering on Sam for just a second, before returning back to Andre.

Andre cleared his throat, a bit nervously, but he didn’t get a chance to speak as Jordan scoffed, shoving past the man and into the room. Emma followed, giving the man an apologetic look as she did. And thus, everyone followed, leaving the man alone and bewildered in the doorway.

Once everyone was settled inside, the man shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at Andre, his eyes burning holes through his head, but Sam didn’t pay any attention towards him anymore. All his eyes were on the strange girl in front of him, you.

You were sitting on the floor, legs crossed and a bored expression on your face. Your eyes were half lidded, and you seemed to be lost in your own little world. Andre had mentioned you, a little. Said that you were the person he had called earlier, that you would help them figure out what to do with Sam, and that you knew and could a lot of stuff. But he had never told them how gorgeous you were.

Your hair was down, and looked so soft that Sam just wanted to touch it, run his fingers through it, and feel the texture. You had a cute little button nose, and a round, chubby face that was just too adorable. And your eyes were so expressive, a mixture of colors that swirled and shone and sparkled in the light.

Andre had called your attention and you snapped out of it, blinking a few times before glancing up at him. It was then that you noticed the others, and you stared at them all, wide eyed and open mouthed, but that was quickly replaced with a smile.

“Hi, Andre! Wow, you must be Jordan… Marie… and Emma? Right? Oh, and you must be the kid Andre talked about, oh my gosh. It's so nice to finally meet you all. Sorry I didn’t say anything when you came in, I was just finishing up this thing for Kota. Oh, Kota! You're still here… hi. Wait, why are you all here? You weren’t supposed to be here until 2:00, and it's only-”

You looked down at the watch on your wrist, your eyes widening even more when you realized the time. You had been talking so fast that no one had been able to get a word in edgewise, but you had managed to finish what you had to say, and it was all so rushed that it was hard to keep up.

The only thing Sam could focus on was how despite all of that rambling and mumbling, you were still keeping that bright smile that never seemed to falter. A truly happy supe? He never thought it would exist. Even Emma, as sweet and pretty as she was, tended to falsify the smiles she had. Sam only saw her real one about three times. He cherished them, of course. Every single one.

You stood up, brushing yourself off and fixing your clothes, and walked over to them. Your hand was outstretched, and your smile was radiant. Sam could practically feel the happiness radiating off of you.

You looked so innocent, so sweet and pure. He could hardly believe that you were a supe, but the fact that they were all standing here said otherwise. You had power, and you knew how to use it.

Jordan and Marie seemed to have recovered from their daze, and the two shook your hand after Andre. Marie had even introduced herself, and it ended with you in giggles, telling her that you already had known her name.

Emma was next, and she had taken your hand immediately and shook it.

Then it was just him that was left.

He stood frozen, staring down at your outstretched hand. He could feel all the eyes in the room on him, and he just knew that his hood was starting to slip.

His instincts were yelling at him, screaming at him to run. To get out of there and stay far, far away from you. From everyone.

But he couldn’t.

So, instead of fleeing, he slowly, cautiously took your hand in his. It was small, warm, and fit perfectly.

You smiled again but this time it was strictly for him, because of him, and it made his heart beat just a bit faster.

He didn’t even realize it until your smile has widened, but he had pulled down his hood, letting you see his face. He didn't understand why he did, and a part of him wanted to pull the fabric right back over his face, but it was too late now.

The damage had been done.

Sam didn’t have a chance to scrape off the dried blood off his cheeks, another result of an accidental outburst, and he could feel your eyes rake over his face, taking in every single detail.

But it wasn’t judgmental, or critical.

No, there was something else in those swirling eyes of yours, and it was then that he noticed the little flecks of gold hidden in the sea of color.

Sam was a bit embarrassed, to say the least, and he tried to pull his hand away but your grip only tightened, and he didn't have the strength to resist. He felt your hand go up his arm, unraveling the hoodie that clung to him like a second skin.

The others didn’t seem to do anything as you pulled the material above his elbow.

Your eyes roamed over the scar that stretched across his forearm, and he knew what was coming before the words even left your mouth.

Sam couldn’t bring himself to look at you as you asked the dreaded question, and his eyes were glued to the floor.

It was Emma who answered, her voice barely a whisper.

Sam despised the pity in your tone. The last thing he wanted was to be pitied. He didn't need or want anyone's pity. He was fine. Everything was fine.

The silence shattered as you took a sharp breath, but Sam couldn't bring himself to look at you. Not when he knew the look of pity in your eyes.

You released his arm, the hoodie dropping to the ground, but Sam didn't even register it. He stood there, frozen, as you slowly reached out your hand towards his face.

"Before I do anything, I want to warn you so it doesn't scare you. Is that okay with you? I just... I want to make sure you're alright. But if you don't want me to touch you, I won't. I'll respect your boundaries. Just tell me, okay?"

Sam blinked, his head tilting upwards, his eyes wide with surprise. There was no pity in your eyes. No negativity or degradation. Only a gentle concern and kindness that he had only experienced in these past few days.

Your touch was tender, and he felt a warmth spread across his face. He couldn't bring himself to deny you. So he nodded, and a small smile appeared on your face. It was still a smile, but a different kind. One he had never seen from you before. And once again, that smile was meant just for him.

Suddenly, the lights in the room dimmed, capturing Sam's attention. He hadn't noticed before, but the entire room was filled with interconnected lights, forming a grid-like pattern. They began to glow, pulsating and shifting with each passing moment. The light danced across the walls, creating mesmerizing shapes.

Sam was captivated by the whole process. And then, the lights suddenly stopped, freezing in place. Sam expected them to return to their normal brightness, but they grew brighter and brighter. It was then that he noticed your hands. They were no longer touching him, but rather, they hovered above him, palms facing his face. A peculiar expression settled on your face.

Sam didn't know what it meant, but he didn't have time to wonder because, in an instant, your hands transformed into light. It wasn't like beams shooting out of your palms, but rather, golden particles that flowed around your body and traveled along the lights, intensifying their brightness. Patterns began to form and move.

Sam watched in awe as the shapes transformed into pictures and scenes. The colors melted and shifted together. Light filled the room, washing away the world around him, leaving only the vibrant colors, the images, and your face.

Your face, so close to his. The smile still adorned your lips, and your eyes shone like stars, the brightest things in the room. Sam could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Reluctantly, he admitted that the light was beautiful, just like you.

It was the most extraordinary sight he had ever witnessed. It was as if the sun had exploded, its light spreading across the room. The colors danced along the walls, forming vivid images. Sam saw a field, a house, a family. He saw his old friends. He saw him. His brother, Luke.

Sam's face crumpled, and a sob escaped his throat. Tears blurred his vision, but they were absorbed by the light, vanishing as soon as they fell. You remained a silent observer, watching over him as the colors gradually faded, and the world returned.

The room was as bright as before, but everything was the same. Sam could still see the concern and worry etched on your face. You reached up to wipe away his tears, but this time he flinched back, and the contact never happened. Your hands fell to your sides.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and your lips trembled, trying to hold back your emotions. But a tear escaped, rolling down your cheek. Andre cleared his throat, breaking the spell. Both you and Sam turned to face the others.

They were all watching, expressions of shock and confusion on their faces, except for Jordan, who wore a mask of indifference.

Andre and Emma stared at you, mouths agape, while Sam saw the tears in your eyes, the fear evident on your face.

Of what, he couldn’t tell. As of right now, there were so many things you could be scared of. With The Woods, being the thing that contains most of it all, It was hard to pinpoint one specific reason.

Then, just like before, Andre's voice cracked as he decided to interrupt Sam’s thoughts.

"What the hell was that?"

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bonkwrites · 1 year

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Baby

Warnings: PIV, afab!reader, slight dom!Aizawa, slight sub!reader, a little bit of uniform kink, some choking, overstim, dirty talk, begging, praise, breeding, wanting a baby.

Relationship: Shota Aizawa x wife!reader

Shota thinks you're irresistible. He knows you think lowly of yourself, that sometimes you get up in your own head about your body, your personality, your skills… people have put you down, hurt you, but never him. Shota doesn't care if he spends his whole life making you realize you're the best woman on planet earth, he'd do it all over again.

It's your anniversary tonight. During the day, it's work. You're subbing for Mic in English, his gorgeous wife drilling vocabulary and grammar into their heads until their brains hurt. He sits with you at lunch, watches you eat the lunch he made for you while you laugh at his jokes. You play with your necklace, dragging the pendant up and down the chain, and Shota might sound like a degenerate when he says this but… seeing you in your teaching uniform really does something for him.

He's thought about before, why he always thought you looked so good while teaching, and he wants to think it's because you're in your element, teaching the kids, doing something you love, but in reality it's because your teaching clothes involve form-fitting clothing and not your normal sweatpants and big shirt combo. He thinks that's sexy too but seeing you in a button down… in a skirt and a short heel… wearing earrings and makeup? He's been thinking about dragging you to the supply closet on the fourth floor, the one isolated from the rest of the school, and hiking your skirt up like the dirty man you've turned him into.

"Shota? Baby?" You regard him with a confused look in your eye and you giggle when he makes eye contact, "you okay?"

"Of course," Shota replies, "just.. thinking about tonight."

"I'm so excited to go out," you smile across at him, excited to finally get to dress up and go out, "it's gonna be so fun, we haven't been out in forever and I-"

Shota fully admits to losing focus on what you're talking about, staring at you as you talk about your dress for tonight while a happy smile on your face. He's lost for words, truly, he's fucking speechless and all you're doing is talking about how happy you are to get to go out again.

You've talked to him about kids before, but he's thinking tonight has to be the night. He reaches across the table and holds your free hand, thumb rubbing across the back of your hand. You smile at him sweetly and keep talking.

–

"This place is fancy," you whisper across at him, glancing around at the tables and decor of the restaurant. Shota takes a sip of his red wine, your hand in his on the table. He smirks.

"Only the best for you, sweetheart," he replies. You blush but roll your eyes. Shota knows you would have been happy with takeout on the couch but you shine when he treats you like this, like a princess, like you deserve.

An impulsive thought pierces through his mind, the image of what you'll look like later, bent over on the bed, his chest pressed to your back, his hands pinning yours to the mattress. He knows you like it slow, like to feel every inch of him, and he can almost hear the sounds you'll make.

"You're…" You start to say something but then you stop yourself, rolling your eyes again and running your hand through your hair nervously. Shota likes watching you squirm when he compliments you.

Sometimes it's like you're a new couple again, blushing at every compliment, holding hands and smiling to yourselves.

"What am I?" Shota fixes you with a sharp stare. You bite your lip and avoid his gaze, legs crossing under the table.

"Fuck off," you mumble. The waiter approaches, main course in hand, and tops off your wine before he leaves.

You eat, the squirming dying off after a while, and once dessert is done you're both heading home. Shota pays, walks out with you, and of course he opens your door for you. He gets you home, riding you up the whole drive with his hand on your thigh. Your hands grip his arm, leaned into him the whole ride.

"Shota," you whine at some point, his fingers digging into your inner thighs, you're about ten minutes from home, "Wh-What do you think your doing?"

"Having fun, sweetheart. Don't act like you don't like it," Shota's fingers dip in and his cock twitches in his pants when he finds out you're wearing lace, "I can feel how much you do."

You whimper, legs spread open under the skirt of your dress. You grip onto the door and take it, face hidden away from him, as he rubs your clit through your panties. God, the way he wants to make you beg for it.

He doesn't let you cum, not in the car, and you tighten your legs, rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the ache. Shota feels your mouth, hot and wet, wrap around the tips of his fingers and lick them clean. You know what you do to him, of course you do.

He's been so unbelievably horny all day, from the second he woke up and saw you dressed in your substitute teacher uniform, from when you bent down and kissed him and wished him a happy anniversary, baby. He pins you to the door of your bedroom, he can't stop, he needs you, his mind swims with every sound you make.

"God, oh god," you gasp, hands in his hair, neck leaned to the side to give him more room in marking you. His hands grip you tightly, pull you against him.

"Please," your lips move against his when you talk, "please put a baby in me, please,"

"Can I put a baby in you? Tonight?" He thinks he feels your knees go a little weak when he speaks. You nod and kiss him, heart beating so hard he can feel it in your hands where they touch him. Your touch burns his skin, sets it all on fire through his suit jacket and button down.

Shota turns you around from the door, his hands searching for your zipper on the back of your dress and then your dress is on the floor. Shota's eyes are still closed, he's kissing you after all, but when his hands make contact with the lace he pulls away and opens them to look at you.

It's all black and red lace, not an inch of support, made just to be taken off. It's like is painted onto you with how it hugs your skin. You sit down on the bed and wiggle off the panties as he pulls his suit jacket off. You watch him undo the buttons of his shirt, eyes following his hands down… until his shirt is open and he's taking off his belt. Your hands skim over your nipples through the lace of the bra. Shota's in a trance, watching you, he can't take his eyes off you, can't believe he got such a perfect fucking wife.

He nearly reached for the bedside drawer in his haze, looking for a condom, before he remembers what he's doing. Naked, he crawls between your open legs, and you gasp when you feel his cock slide between your folds. Your hands reach for his, he takes them and pins them above your head.

"S-Shota-" you whimper, "please fuck me."

"Let me take care of you, yeah?" Shota whispers in your ear. You nod, breath shaking. "Good girl."

"You want it?" He takes himself in his hand and pushes in just the tip, you nod and spread your legs farther, moaning at the feeling.

"P-Please-!" You cry out, "I-I need it, I need you,"

Shota watched the way your face crumbles with pleasure when he sinks himself into you slowly, inch-by-fucking-inch. He groans when he finally bottoms out, your hips twitching. You wrap your legs around his waist, hold him there, as you lift your hips and fuck yourself on his cock.

"That's it, baby," Shota moans, "use it."

"Fuck," you curse, back arched, hands fighting to break free. You're just as pent up as he is, you’ve been just as horny as him all day, you had to be. Shota releases your hands and grips your hips, he helps you along, until you’re reaching for his shoulders and pulling him down over you.

“Sh-Shota- oh god,” you sob, back arching, a hand snaked between you to touch yourself, “please don’t stop,”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby,” his voice is deep, growling, and he can feel you cumming around him. You slap your hands to his back, dig your nails in, and Shota groans as pain mixes with pleasure.

“Good girl, give it to me,” he whispers, one hand moving to tweak your nipple through rough lace. You gasp, cry out his name, and arch your back impossibly higher. Shota slows his hips down, he doesn’t want to cum so soon, so quickly, and the way your thighs shake when he gives it to you slow like this makes him go crazy.

“M-move me?” you ask, voice high and weak. Shota rakes his eyes up and down every inch of skin he can see, he holds your hips still for you, and considers moving you to your stomach.

“P-” you take a deep breath, bat your eyelashes up at him, “please?”

“Fuck,” he groans, hands tightening on your hips before he pulls out and moves you onto your chest. You get up on your knees and arch your back, presented to him like a goddamn present. He puts his hands on your ass, kneading the skin there, and you gasp at his touch.

“Fuck, baby, you look so fucking good right now,” Shota groans when you arch your back farther in response.

“Fuck me.” you whimper. Who is he to deny his wife when she asks him so nicely? Shota guides himself in, slow, and watches the way your body relaxes and just takes him in.

“It’s like you’re made for me,” Shota says as he leans over you to gather your hair up in his hand. He tugs, gentle, and your neck bends back to leave you gasping and gripping at the sheets.

“I-I was,” you moan, clenching around him, “I w-was made for- for you,”

“Damn right you were,” he growls, taking your hip in his free hand and finally starting to fuck you. He snaps his hips, thrusts hard and slow, and relishes in the way it makes you sound. You were fucking made to take it, you had to be.

“Take it,” he demands, as if you could do anything else, and you sob his name, “fucking take it,”

“Y-Yes, sir,” you whimper. Shota feels like his whole body is on fire, chasing his orgasm, losing his fucking mind. He raises a hand to spank you just to hear the way you cry out. When he lets your hair go you collapse onto the bed and fuck yourself back on him.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, baby,” Shota groans out every curse word he can think of as he buries himself deep inside you and cums. You gasp, legs spread wider, back arched lower, gasping for air. Shota lets you come down, he can feel your heartbeat through your back where it’s pressed to his chest, before he reaches beneath you and takes your throat in his hand and grinds his hips.

“Cum again,” the hand not wrapped around your throat touches your clit and you shake, “cum one more time around my cock, sweetheart,”

“Shota!” you sob, oversensitive. Shota’s just as sensitive as you are but he’s putting a baby in you tonight and he’s going to make sure it sticks.

“I-I can’t,” you sob, “p-please, I can’t,”

But your breaths are already coming out faster, you’re already pulsing around him. Held under him like this, pinned like this, you’ve got nowhere to go and no way to fight back. He could make you cum five, six, seven more times before he lets you go. His cock, spent and sensitive, twitches at the image his brain brings up for him.

“One more, baby, that’s it,” he encourages, lips by your ear, “good girl, gimme one more,”

You scream, absolutely scream his name, and he feels the way your whole body gives into your orgasm. Shota stays there but he pulls his fingers away from your clit. You pant, thighs still shaking, and when he pulls out you don’t move. He reaches for a towel in the laundry basket and helps you turn over. He presses kisses to your cheeks, your lips, until you’re giggling and pulling him down to cuddle with you.

“Love you,” you whisper against his chest. Shota holds you tighter.

“Love you, too, baby.” he replies. He rubs slow circles on your shoulder and wishes silently for a baby.

#aizawa #shouta aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #aizawa x reader smut #mha smut #bnha smut #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #my hero academia fic #my hero acedamia #bnha aizawa

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beatrixstonehill2 · 4 days

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"Ughhhh, it happened again! I swear this is almost every time I go out these days, it's getting ridiculous! I was out running errands, about to get some coffee, when I took a moment to hold my belly and pant a bit. You know, normal contractions every girl carrying quintuplets gets like constantly. I'm only six months along! But I guess an ambulance parked nearby saw it and, well, you know the new laws. Basically pregnant girls are public property, and at least in my line of work (school teacher), I have to maintain a pregnant physique or I can get fined, even lose my job. Same with healthcare, food service, retail, hospitality.... Most jobs, honestly. Welcome to Georgia, I guess. Still happy I got transferred here a couple years ago but these laws are a bit out of hand.....

Speaking of which! The ambulance pulls up, two men come out. I try to stop them but they insist on testing me for signs of labor. I explain that I'm only six months and they tell me to be quiet so they can do their jobs. They remove my clothes with scissors and shoot me up with some kind of opioid that makes me really loopy and high. They take me to the hospital as the men take videos of me on their phones, spreading my legs, showing off my pussy, spreading it open under the guise of looking for how dilated I am. But they were literally playing with my pussy, rubbing it, sticking their fingers in with gloves, shoving instruments into it. At one point about seven different instruments were jammed into my pussy and I came, squirted all over. They got mad and told me if I act up like that they can't perform their jobs. I apologized for cumming.

They took me in and surprise-surprise, the ER was full of pregnant girls. Some were texting on their phones, shaking their heads as they got C-sections, filming themselves having it done, as others impatiently waited to be stitched up afterwards, grumbling about just wanting to go home and get knocked up again already. Aloof male nurses and physicians would pass them by and tell them not to be so impatient, that they were very busy...... mostly just probing and abusing cute pregnant girls.

They ran their 'tests'..... again, happened to me just a few days ago. So I'm used to it. They squeeze my tits and got 'milk samples'. I have to give them urine samples, over and over, as I piss with no privacy in a busy auditorium they used as an ER, full of girls like me, with various lines for either labor, forced C-sections, or general 'testing'. They of course gave me an enema, in a crowded room, complaining about the mess I was making as other girls were subjected to the same in one corner that was all tile with some showerheads. We were sprayed off and dried off as they had salon workers there doll us up before we were subjected to 'labor sensitivity testing'.

I tried explaining that I'm six months but they had ten different men with huge cocks fuck my pussy. A few even tried my ass, too, to see if I was susceptible to being induced. Nope. My womb can handle all the punishment Georgia can throw at it. I commute on public transportation, doesn't matter how pregnant I am, men try to fuck the babies out of me, like, every day. No luck! So, after that they told me I was OK'd to go home, as my babies weren't quite big enough for them to put me in the C-section area with all those other bored influencer girls.

So, with my hospital bracelet, purse, and jewelry as my only clothing, they spanked me on my way out the door of the hospital and told me not to be a stranger. I walked home naked, got fucked about ten times on the way back. I was even paid by a few guys who thought I was turning tricks. Guess I can add whore to my resume now. I even got fucked in line, paying for my coffee. The man behind me didn't say a word. I started paying and he just rammed his cock in me and started fucking me. Big fat nerdy guy, but his cock was big. Probably hasn't showered in a week. Instead of telling him to stop having his way with me, another cashier opened a different register, and they said nothing until he came inside me, spanked me, then smacked my belly a few times while climaxing. The cashier finally told me I was holding up the line after that, and I left, not before one of my neighbors fucked me as I checked our mailbox. He apologized afterword and told me I look incredibly sexy so pregnant. I thanked him and reminded him I'm only six months.... Now it's time for a shower. After that I might go back out. Who knows.... another ambulance might spot me. ❤️"

#pregnant kink #breeding k1nk #cnc free use #free use kink #medical kink #huge pregnant belly #humiliation kink

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tvseries-writings · 8 months

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Heat Kills

Plot: Reader has an heatstroke caused by an intensive workout.

Maya Bishop x Carina DeLuca x reader

You can't stand the heat; you’ve hated it since you were little, always. When summer came, you were happy just because school was over but, at the same time, you hated the forty degrees you had to endure every single day.

Then you became a professional soccer player and, having always played on teams up north, you never felt as hot as you did this season with the OL Reign. Although the Seattle Women's soccer Team has been a great benefit in your career, this scorching heat is truly terrible, especially since you are not used to it.

A small sigh leaves your lips as you grab your water bottle and tuck it into your backpack, ready to face a scorching workout in the ten o'clock morning sun.

"Good morning Bella, where are you going?" Carina hugs you from behind, her breasts pressing against your back as she fondles your butt with an amused smirk on her face.

"Car I'm on my way to practice and I'm already late ... as much as I would like to slam you against this table, unfortunately I can't."

You turn around, staying in her arms and kissing the tip of her nose with a smile.

Carina pouts, and after a few seconds, just long enough for her brain to work and understand what you've just told her, her gaze changes to a frown of confusion and concern at the same time.

"The weather alert has been issued, didn't you see it Bambina? You can't train in this heat, it's going to be 104° F out there..."

You sigh and shake your head slightly. You knew this conversation would happen, and you also know how it will end. Probably with a gorgeous, sexy Italian doctor very pissed off at you.

"Car, I can't miss another workout. Less than two weeks ago I was sick and couldn't train for almost a whole week, I can't miss any more days. I have to earn my place on the team, you know it's important to me…like this"

Carina shakes her head several times, hard. She tortures her lower lip, clenching it between her teeth, and although you find it very sexy, the particularly pissed off look on the Italian's face gives you pause to comment on how hot she is when she does this.

"You'll get sick if you run in this heat. They can't make you train with a weather alert, è sconsiderato e stupido. Cazzo."

Your lovely girl rants in her native language, and you foolishly fail to control yourself and let your eyes wander to the clock hanging on the wall behind the angry doctor.

You had never done that before.

"Are you really thinking you're going to be late? No way, you can't really think about going y/n. Ugh, who am I kidding? Of course you want to go, sometimes I think you're worse than Maya...you know what, fai come ti pare."

"Carina, wait-"

Before you can even try to stop her and reason with her, the brunette locks herself in your bedroom slamming the door and making the whole apartment shake.

You know her, you know that she just has to let the pissing go now. So, despite the knot in your stomach from the fight and with the excuse of giving her the space she needs, you bend down to pick up your duffel bag and then leave the apartment, stuffing your car keys into the left pocket of your shorts, ready to head to the soccer field.

.........................................................................................

After only an hour and a half of practice, you realize you've screwed up big time when you start to lose all feeling in your body and feel like you're floating on air. Your teammates are no better off than you are.

You cast a glance at Coach Harvey, praying that she will notice the terrible condition you are in but you doubt it. After all, she is sitting in the shade and with all this heat you doubt she is really watching you. At least, not today.

The ball is put back in the middle, after Clarke has scored one of her famous goals, and the coach blows her whistle. You run nonstop to get to Clarke's side; you cross the half-court line and are careful not to be offside as you pass the ball between you over and over again.

You don't know how but suddenly you are no longer in control of your body and your right foot ends up over the ball instead of to the side. In less than a second, you find yourself on the ground groaning in pain as soon as you hit the ground.

"Fuck."

You snort, wrinkling your nose and taking the hand offered to you without even understanding who is offering it to you. Octavia gives you a smile, although she can't really hide the worry on her face.

She helps you to your feet and puts a hand on your shoulder.

"You don't look so good, are you okay?"

Meanwhile, the other girls have taken the opportunity there to take a break and drink some water, and you don't blame them, especially considering that you still have another hour of training ahead of you.

Octavia Blake is many things but she is definitely not a quitter. Never.

"You're really hot y/n, are you sure you feel good?"

You don't answer her, you don't feel good at all, and you can't even understand her.

"I don't think Carina and Maya would agree, you know? I'll take you to them."

You don't really understand what she is saying, not at all. The heat clouds your mind; you run a hand over your forehead, you have the impression that you are dripping with sweat but actually you are not, your hand is completely dry when you pull it back.

Not good, not good at all. A cold shiver runs down your spine as you lean against Octavia making her support you even more and she is the one who supports you even more.

From that moment until she takes you to Station 19, you don't notice anything, just her shaking you from time to time as you go, calling your name several times as you continue to lose consciousness. The only time you realize you are at the station is when Andy and Vic help Octavia get you out of the car.

They’re probably calling your name but you can't answer; honestly, you don't even know how you are there, really.

You don't know how much time has passed, but you only begin to understand what is going on around you because of your Italian girlfriend's warm hands caressing your face.

"Bambina, bambina look at me. Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

Carina swipes a strand of wet hair from your forehead, bringing it behind your ear. The doctor pulls a small flashlight out of her gown, turns it on and holds it in front of your eyes while she holds your head still.

"Y/n, follow the light, honey. Follow the light, okay?"

You wrinkle your nose, and the nausea you have been feeling up to this point only increases as you are blinded by the flashlight.

You scan Carina with one arm, turn onto your side and vomit all the contents of your stomach onto the floor.

Carina strokes your back, trying to give you as much comfort as she can, while Andy shoves an IV of cold fluids into you.

"Andy, call Maya. I think the heat stroke is a lo worse than I thought. She's not even sweating..."

As soon as Carina sees Andy running down the hall to find your firegirl, she immediately turns to you and takes the thermometer out of Vic's hands. She sticks it in your mouth, even though you are not very cooperative, and waits for you to make the sound to check your temperature: 104° F.

Carina gasps and her heart stops for a few seconds; she is more than aware that such a temperature is very dangerous and could even make you convulse.

You start sobbing and try to reach Carina with clumsy and uncoordinated movements, seeking the comfort of a hug. You feel so bad that you do not realize what you are doing; it is as if you have no control over your body. Your confused state only makes the doctor more concerned.

"Bella we can't, your temperature is too high."

Carina bites her lip, trying not to cry. She wants to hold you in her arms but she can’t.

"Car..."

Carina feels her heart stop when suddenly your eyes roll back and your body is suddenly shaken by convulsions.

"Damn it, no no no. Come back to me, Bella.”

Carina turns you on your side, pulling up the arms of the cot and takes care of your head.

"Vic, give her a 12-mg Diazepam drip!"

Vic goes to the station's medical supplies in a flash and rummages around until she finds what Carina asked for. She prepares the solution and inserts the IV into your left arm, which Carina says is your best arm for targeting veins.

In less than three minutes your body has stopped moving. Carina pulls your hair back from in front of your face and leaves a kiss on your forehead before unwinding the IV bag a bit to check the speed at which the drug is being administered.

"Carina!"

Maya Bishop, Captain of Station 19 as well as your girlfriend, comes running up to you. Concern fills her blue eyes that you love so much.

"What happened? Andy told me you were with her but she didn't tell me what it was about..."

Maya takes your hand between her own wincing in shock when she feels how much heat your skin is giving off.

"Shit, she's burning up. We have to get her to Grey's Sloan."

Carina and Maya exchange a glances. Carina twists her lower lip between her teeth and runs a hand through her hair. Both you and the blonde know that this gesture indicates that the brunette is very worried about something.

"No, you know how much she hates Bella hospitals. We can't, we can't do that to her. Let's take her to your office and use your shower to cool her down."

Maya leans over to take you in her arms but Carina stops her, shaking her head firmly.

"You have to be very careful Maya, we shouldn't even be moving her but we need to get her temperature down quickly. She had a seizure and I'm afraid she may still have another one.”

Carina whispers, her voice breaking as she thinks back to the feeling of a few moments ago. Maya takes a deep breath; she doesn't think she has ever been so scared in her entire life. She barely nods, taking you in her arms with such gentleness that she is surprised herself. Maya walks down the corridor to the door of her own office; Carina opens the door for you, and as soon as you cross the threshold, she closes it again.

The blonde firefighter lays you down on her bed, paying special attention to your head as Carina kneels beside you. She puts two fingers on your right wrist to check your pulse while looking at the clock on the wall.

"Pulse is dropping, we need to cool her down now, Maya-“

"Shit, she's seizing. Maya, help me!"

Carina turns you onto your side, removing the pillow from under your head and being very careful about the arm in which the IV needle is still stuck .

"Maya, Maya I need you to focus amore mio. She needs you; Maya look at me" Carina groans in frustration and concern for the blonde, watching her stand absolutely still in front of this horrible sight, "Maya!"

The firefighter blinks a few times before recovering from her shocked state and jumping into action. She lifts everything around that could hurt you and helps Carina hold you on your side so you don't choke on your own tongue.

It takes a good three interminable minutes before the seizure is over and Maya and Carina's arms ache from the force they had to use to hold you down.

"We're running out of time," Carina says, starting to remove off every layer of clothing but your underwear before taking you into her arms. Maya looks like a machine, she does everything Carina tells her to do - like turn on the shower, for example - but her eyes are blank, the Italian knows very well that the blonde is not in a good headspace right now but now the priority, as much as it hurts her to have to necessarily choose between the two of you, is you.

Maya turns on the tub's faucet and waits for it to fill. Carina steps in and slowly and gently losers you into the tub. You gasp, your eyes jerking open as your body feels the excessive change in temperature. A whimper escapes your lips as you try to pull away from the icy grip but firm hands hold you down, whispering excuses you don't want to hear right now.

"N-no, f-cold. I-I don't want to."

Chills run down your spine, making you whimper softly as you try to pulls your girls closer to you.

"I know Amore, I know... Shh, it's okay. You'll get better, you'll get better."

Carina rubs your back, somehow trying to comfort you without giving you too much heat.

The Italian puts her hand on your forehead, feeling that your temperature has dropped a bit.

"Maya I'm cold, I'm cold, I don't want to do this anymore. Please, I don't want to do this anymore."

The fever makes you start cry and your body is shaken by sobs that only make you feel worse.

Her name spoken by you make out of the near catatonic state she has been in.

“Baby, you need to calm down, this is not good for you okay? I promise it will be over soon but this way you are putting to much strain on your heart love. Please calm down."

Maya takes your hand and brings it to her own chest for you to follow her breathing and you do, unconsciously and maybe out of habit, but you do.

Carina keeps an eye on your heartbeat the whole time; her fingers never leaving your pulse for a moment, and her heart only seems to start beating again only when your pulse slows down and becomes stable again, at least for your current condition.

More than twenty minutes pass in the freezing water before you are finally covered with at least a T-shirt and then placed on the bed in Maya's office. Under cooling blankets, contrary to what you would have liked. Your mind is clearer and Carina and Maya are very relieved about that.

"What happened?"

Your voice is barely more than a whisper. You are struggling to find the words and your mouth feels as if it is stuck. It is also exhausting to talk right now, you can barely move your head towards them to look into their eyes as you speak.

"Heat stroke, Octavia brought you here Bella. You've had two convulsive episodes from a high fever. It's down now, but you're not out of the woods yet, so you need to rest."

Carina strokes your face as she points to the IV in your arm. As soon as you see it, you panic. You sit up and scratch your arm to pull the IV out. Under normal circumstances, you would think before you act but now, the delirium of heatstroke is just flying the last neurons you had.

"No no no, the press will go crazy with this news. I can't stay in the hospital, I have to get out of here; an OL soccer player in the hospital for heat stroke, n-"

Maya grabs your face and, to your and Carina's surprise, slaps you. Not so hard that it really hurts, but hard enough to bring you back to reality.

Although shock, fever, and heat stroke cloud your mind, you recognize where you are in a few moments.

"Oh...we're in your office."

You place the hand you were about to use to remove your IV at your side and give them a small apologetic smile.

"It's okay Bella, now get some rest. I'd like to keep you here a little longer for observation. We’ll take you home tonight, if all goes as it should."

Carina leans over you and plants a kiss on your lips, followed soon after by Maya.

"Now Maya and I will talk, you rest. Oh, and don't even think you've escaped the lecture. It’s waiting for you as soon as you feel better.”

Carina smiles at you with a wink and then leaves the office followed by Maya. Not before the latter mimics you an "I love you" with her lips and mentally asks you to pray for her. Surely, Carina won't let her get over the slap she gave you a few minutes ago.

Hey, thanks for reading. I know it's not much and it’s not that good but it's better than nothing, right? Write a comment and tell me what you think. Have a nice day!

p.s: I wrote this because it's like thirty-five degrees in Italy and I'm dying :)

Buy me a coffee ☕️

Taglist: @mmmmokdok @chaekhan @blackhill2245 @melatonindaydreamz @foggytidalwavefun @sevnheaven @budoxinha @gayshyandreadytocry @lighthousekiller @m456300 @blitzar-3 @in-love-with-heda @idontknownemore @lesbianbabe @speedup500 @differentranchempathfestival @mebeingthatbitch @jemilyswife @yuleni18 @whyamihere2673 @reggierizzoli

#wlw #maya bishop x reader #maya x carina x reader #carina deluca #maya bishop #carina deluca x reader #octavia blake #clarke griffin #station 19 #soccer

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gingerjolover · 3 months

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The Love Nest - Julien Baker x young!gf

read the blurb here!

synopsis: young!soft!gf has a bad day but julien is always there to make it better

g's notes: oh heyyyy.... this is a small installment in the controversially young!gf universe, she is lowkey soft!gf coded - i am really going to try and push out more fics now that things are falling into place for me and my life doesn't feel so out of control :-)

warnings: RPF, age gap (both consenting adults!), young!gf is 20?? in this fic, bad day vibes:/, talks of internet bullying, smoochin/lovin/the works, no fundamental physical descriptors except hair that can be tucked behind ear??

The frantic succession of pings had woken Julien up from her post-studio haze, her body half laying on the couch when the panicked texts came in. She didn't even hesitate to get up, changing out of her recording clothes into a pair of boxers and a big t-shirt, moving around the house like a zombie, the routine is one she could do with her eyes closed.

20 minutes later, she sits on the porch, messy hair and slippers on, half exposed to the neighbors by the gaps in her landscaping. She's only lived in the house a few months, having narrowed down what she wanted right around the time you both fell in love almost 8 months ago. It's a small Spanish-style home, close enough to her friends but far enough away from the city that she doesn't feel suffocated. Phoebe relentlessly teased her about the renovations she made, "Oh, so your girlfriend gets to choose the color of your backsplash... it's a love nest!" she had squealed, poking Julien's side as Lucy and Jo admired the palette you had chosen for her kitchen.

She'd hated the teasing, the constant (but loving) making fun of how she worships the ground you walk in, bending to every whim needed to make you happy. Her friends could see it was reciprocated, having finally gotten to know you enough to feel comfortable teasing you about your relationship, your skin thickening with every lousy comment, but smiling at everything from Julien's friend's mouth, laced with admiration for you.

It scares Julien, despite being on the same page about your love, often having deep talks before bed about how the love between you feels like the only thing to ever exist; it scares her just how much she loves you. There's something natural about you flittering around her house, an old ratty band tee adorning your figure as Julien playfully mocks you about not knowing the song blasting throughout the house despite it singlehandedly getting her through her sophomore year of college.

But the best thing, the most natural thing of all, is seeing you pull up into the driveway. Julien envisions when you're done with school, following your dreams full time, and coming home to her every night. Normally, she'd stand on the porch, smiling wide and staring dreamily at you as you park your car. The dog at her feet would wag his tail, ready to pounce when your Converse hits the first step.

But the dreamy eyes are replaced with concern today. She can see your blotchy cheeks through the windshield, eyes bloodshot and streaming. "Oh shit," she mumbles under her breath; every nerve ending is on fire, worry flowing through her veins as she makes her way down the steps to you.

You've barely parked the car before flinging the door open, jumping out, and rushing into her arms. She catches you with ease, one hand moving to support your bottom as you wrap your legs around her, the other tight on your back.

"Hi baby," Julien murmurs, lips pressed to your cheek, your skin warm and damp. Your tears leak down Julien's neck, her hand rubbing up and down your back over your t-shirt, hot and sticky from the sweat, no doubt a result of your anxiety.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, rubbing your nose against her skin as she walks you back to the steps.

"You never need to say sorry for coming here, you know that." She gave you a comforting squeeze before walking you to the porch, the soft glow from inside the house and a few small lights outside were enough to illuminate the whole yard, a warm glow in the incoming darkness.

"Careful buddy, be gentle, mama's sad," Julien says gently, sitting you both down as her dog excitedly moves to you, as if knowing you need comfort, licking your cheek, pawing at your back.

A small giggle and a succession of pets give Julien some hope, her eyes watching your face. Cheeks flushed and puffy, eyes brightened by tears, lips bitten and red, you look so innocent and clearly hurt, but despite it all, approach everything with kindness and gentleness.

“I just needed to see you and I know you have an early session in the morning and I’m not supposed to be here until Thursday but I—“ you start to ramble, knowing that you and Julien both have strict schedules.

"Baby... breathe. It's okay, okay? You're here and safe," Julien says softly, seeing your eyes descend into panic once again when trying to be considerate of her schedule. Julien presses kisses into the crown of your hair, mumbling against the skin, "Besides, I missed you, except I hate seeing you sad, so talk to me; what's happening?" Julien says, pulling away, thumb coming to wipe away tears under your eyes.

“Everything that could’ve gone wrong today went wrong, and I’m so tired,” you breathe out, almost like you couldn't get oxygen back into your lungs. The sobs start up quickly again, heading towards dangerous territory quickly.

Julien's worried frown deepens slightly, but she squeezes you reassuringly. This wasn't good. Not at all. You were usually a ray of sunshine, but the way you breathed out, having such a pessimistic view, sounded... it sounded terrible. She rubbed her thumb against your back in a gentle rhythm. "Slow down. What happened?"

You let out some shuddering breaths, sobs broken up between sniffles before you explain, “I slept through my alarm which I never do, so I missed my meeting with my manager, and then on my way to class my smoothie spilled all over my bag and laptop, and thankfully I backed it up b-but I need a new one, a-and I haven’t gotten the checks from my shop yet so I’m stressing about rent and then all of my paints dried out so I couldn't even work, and my lunch ended up being spoiled so I haven't eaten and I walked to my car after class and there was a fucking p-parking ticket and then when I got home and tried to shower a-and the water was ice cold, and then I stupidly went on instagram and I just—“ you sob gently, all your words like mush, coming in out in only a few breaths.

The more details you explained, the more worried Julien's expression grew. This was a bad day. Worse than most. Her brow furrowed as she took it all in, a frown settling. She kept stroking your back gently as she pulled you in closer, legs interlocking as you sat on the steps. "Okay. Okay. One thing at a time. You don't have to worry about rent. I've got you. Let's just breathe for a sec and figure all of it out…"

“And I failed that stupid philosophy test! He’s making me retake it because my answers were “plagiarized,” according to Turnitin,” you cry out, the elective you were so excited to take because your girlfriend's enthusiasm is a main stress point this semester.

"Hey, hey, let's not worry about that right now. We can deal with your philosophy professor later. Right now, you just need to take some slow breaths, okay?" Julien's voice was soothing; she gently rocked you as she spoke. "Now… the laptop. You said you backed everything up?"

"Yeah, I- but I have so much homework due on Thursday and I— I won't have time to get a new one or even have time to go to the library,” you whine gently, leaning into Julien's affections.

"Hey, look at me." Julien holds your chin gently but sternly; she looks more serious now as she speaks. "You don't need to worry about all of that tonight. You're not going to the library. You'll have some dinner, then we'll crawl into bed and watch a movie, and you can just rest, okay? We'll figure all of that stuff out tomorrow."

“I— I don’t have the time, and I—" you try to explain, tears coming down faster.

The gentle tone in Julien's voice disappears as she shakes her head. "Princess, listen to me." She looks at you firmly and takes your hands into hers, her thumb rubbing your ring finger softly. "You can skip the library. You can tell your manager everything's all right. You can fail one test. You can sleep. We will figure out the laptop situation tomorrow, and everything will be okay. You're safe here, okay? I'm not gonna let anything happen to you right now. You're just gonna relax. I'll take care of everything else."

"But the parking ticket-" you sob softly, cheeks heating in embarrassment.

"I'll deal with that tomorrow." Her tone was more definitive, her eyes locked into yours. "You can just focus on getting some rest right now. Okay? I promise it's gonna be okay."

Julien searches your eyes, watching you nod. Her heart cracks when she sees the tears streaming down, a more profound pain behind your eyes. Her face fell instantly, her hands touching your cheeks as she pressed her forehead to yours. She breathes with you, trying to figure out how to approach what's clearly not a bad day but a breaking point. She gently strokes your hair, "You wanna tell me what's really bothering you, sweet girl?" Julien speaks softly.

“Why are you with me? You’re like— older and successful and isn’t this just— all so stupid, I mean I’m in college and I—“ you whispers, your words riddled with shame as you stare into her brown eyes, feeling small.

Julien's stomach drops; that definitely wasn't a response she was expecting. All of their friends joke about it, but you've never asked the question directly like this. Her mind reeled of every interaction she had witnessed that your relationship was the topic of conversation, wondering which comment was the nail in the coffin, one she didn't even know you had been preparing. She hesitates for a long moment, her brows furrowed. Her expression grows tender again as she pulls you into a hug and squeezes you softly. "Because I love you. And I'm proud of you. And I'm here to support you with everything."

“You shouldn’t have to deal with all of this; it’s all— childish, you’re like—taking care of me,” you say sadly, sniffling again. Julien notices specific language, the rhetoric not like your own, it sounds like a direct comment and not a narrative you've created for yourself.

Julien's eyes widened as she listened; she definitely heard those exact comments on social media, blocking most of it out for the sake of your relationship. "You're not childish. I'm not taking care of you. We're a partnership. We're taking care of each other. You take care of me too. Everything's gonna be ok," she says sternly but gently, tucking some hair behind your ear. "Can I ask you something?" she says softly.

"Mhm," Julien smiles softly at your hum, thumb rubbing your cheek gently. "Did something else happen today? Did someone say something about our relationship? Or have you been reading comments again?" Julien's eyebrows knit together in worry as she looks into your eyes. The trolls were nasty enough as it is. The thought that you might have been rereading their bullshit was heartbreaking.

You look into her eyes guiltily, bottom lip between your teeth as you open your mouth, but nothing can come out, just a sheepish blush crossing your cheeks.

"Sweetheart..." Julien groans, her voice more concerned now. She takes your hands and holds them more tightly in her own. "That's a terrible idea; we've talked about this, okay? You know not to read those comments. They don't know anything about you or us. They're just assholes with a keyboard."

"I couldn't help it, I-" you whine softly, dropping your head low to hide from any disappointing looks Julien might shoot your way.

"Look at me, come on." Juliens pulls your chin up, tilting it so her eyes meet yours. Her expression is soft as she strokes your cheek. "These trolls are just miserable people who have nothing better to do than make other people miserable. We've discussed this: you can't let their opinions take over your life. You can't let them affect you like this."

“I just— had such a bad day and I felt like I couldn’t get my emotions under control and— I just was on there for fun I swear, but then I saw the post from Saturday that Katie posted of us and some of the comments were just so mean, and I started to wonder why you would wanna deal with me? Deal with all of this stuff when you graduated like 6 years ago and I don’t have my shit together, I’m not even 21 so—“ you start to ramble, getting worked up again as the panic floods your chest.

"Hey. Look at me." Julien's voice is gentle as she strokes your hair, holding you close. "I'm not dealing with anything. It's called being in a relationship. There's nothing to deal with. What other people think doesn't matter, remember? Not a damn thing. All that matters to me is that you're here. With me. That's it."

Julien cant help but look down, your lips in cute small pout. She smiles lightly as she wipes your cheeks, kissing your lips quickly.

"Promise me you won't read through that garbage anymore, okay? You know it isn't good for you. It's not good for us. We're good. Just us. Don't let them get in your head. And you never have to justify why you're with me. That's not how this works."

You nod gently, chest lighter at Julien's reassurances. The heavy weight of people's comments still weighs on you, knowing this is something to discuss later, but for now, having Julien dote on you is enough.

Julien's lips curl into a soft smile as she brings her forehead up to yours, eyes still locked into one another's. She whispers softly, "That's my girl. You're gonna rest and I'll deal with the parking ticket and everything else. Okay?"

You nod softly, thanking everything in the universe for the woman sitting before you. You lean in, kissing Julien's cheeks a few times, the corner of her mouth, and then her lips.

Julien hums when you kiss her, your soft lips against her chapped ones. Julien's smile grows wider, her eyes gleaming softly in the dim glow of the porch light, the sun almost set. She closes her eyes and lets out a happy sigh as she pulls your body closer, wrapping her arms tightly around you.

"Are you happy?" you mumble out, tone laced with insecurity, silently face-palming yourself for how you sounded.

Julien's expression grows soft as her hands rub up and down your back, those words tugging at her heartstrings just a bit. She swallows before her voice comes out gentle and sincere, "I am the happiest I've been in a very long time, baby."

Julien's arms wrap tighter around you, and she pulls you into her lap, her lips meeting yours gently and tenderly. Her hands hold your head, mouths softly brushing together, the warmth of your breaths mingling against and into one another's.

She can't help but giggle when you pull away, cheeks flushed and your face moving to her neck. "Can we shower?" you mumble against her skin, Julien's hand rubbing your leg softly.

The blush spreads further up Julien's cheek as she leans in to kiss the top of your head. "Of course we can, pretty girl. I want to get you all cozy," Julien says softly, placing you back on the step as she pats the dog's head, quickly stepping down and towards the car.

She moves to grab your overnight bag, favorite pillow, and purse. Carrying the items in one hand, she locks the car and walks back towards the house, sticking out her opposite hand.

"Thank you," you murmur, kissing her cheek as you grab her hand. "S'no biggie, baby," Julien smiles softly, pushing you through the door first, locking up behind her, and following you straight up the stairs.

You make their way upstairs to the bathroom. The bathroom is dark, except for the light from the bedside lamp nearby that casts an orange-yellow glow. Julien runs the shower, watching you slip into the tub with a small smile. The shower is quick, like any other, Julien tending to you gently. She washes your hair and massages your scalp as you rest against her, a low song coming from her lips.

Wrapped in a fluffy towel, Julien grabs a pair of pajamas from your drawer in her room. Her hands move gently as she works lotion into your back, attempting to relieve the tight muscles in your overworked body. She kisses your neck and shoulders as she moves, her eyes locking into yours in the mirror, her expression so loving and caring, just wanting you to feel better.

“Thank you,” Julien's eyes shine brightly when she sees your soft, tired expression, your sweet thank you music to her ears. She pulls you closer to her chest, rubbing her thumb against your cheek gently and kisses your forehead. "You're welcome. You wanna order food?” Julien mumbles against your skin.

“Mhm, only had half a smoothie today."

Julien's eyes glow softly with admiration as she watches you lean into her. She kisses your forehead again and hums soothingly. “That’s not good,” she breathes, running her fingers through your wet hair. "Poor baby. You wanna lie down in bed while I order? I promise I'll be quick?"

“Yeah,” you say, eyes closing as you allow yourself to enjoy Julien's tender touch.

Julien's smile grows a little more, rubbing your back reassuringly. She pulls out her phone and pulls up the delivery app, watching you cross into the bedroom. She also moves into the bedroom, turning on the bedside lamp and pulling the curtains across the window, dimming everything to a soft, cozy glow. The room is warm and tranquil, any space in Julien's house can achieve this with just a few alterations.

As you snuggle into bed, reaching for the remote, Julien crosses in front of the TV to plug in your heating pad, setting it across your lap.

Juliens watches your face, taking in your exhausted expression, puffy eyes, and the way you're sunken deep into the blankets. Her soft, loving look changes into a teasing one, she can't help but to gently nuzzle her face into your hair as she leans down to you. "I know it was a hard day, baby, but try not to fall asleep before the food gets here," she whispers softly and playfully.

You squint back teasingly, “What’re you ordering?”

"Probably from that Thai place? That okay? That coconut curry could do you some good... it should warm you up and ease those muscles too."

“Is that the one that Phoebe got for me last time?”

"Yeah... think so," Julien's tone reflects the fond memories of Phoebe and Lucy trying to impress you and how cute and sweet it all was to them. "She said she did a little research for the best spot in town. It was so nice of her to do that, wasn't it? The food was really good too."

“Yeah, it was good. I haven't had it since that time with them, like 6 months ago," you say, looking up at Julien as she stands next to the bed, one knee resting on the mattress.

"That’s when I thought Phoebe and Lucy hated me,” you snort softly.

"Oh, definitely not. Lucy and Phoebe are probably both a little in love with you if you want the truth." Julien's tone is teasing; she knows how much her bandmates and best friends appreciate you, even if you don't see it yourself. Her tone grows kinder and softer as she continues. "Phoebe just wanted to feel out the vibe and get to know you better,” Julien says.

Julien's expression softens as she rubs her thumb against your mouth, arm sticking out in front of her, "Yeah, they were probably a little skeptical of you when they first met you. I don’t think they were sure what to make of you."

“Was because of my age, right?” you ask softly, eyes shining with insecurity when the 7-year age gap reappears.

Julien's expression grows warm and apologetic, feeling a lot of guilt over your anxiety about the age difference. She sits on the edge of the bed, tattooed hands running up and down your leg reassuringly. "That may have played a bit of a role, but honestly? I think there was a bit of jealousy there, too. You’re smart, pretty, and funny, and I was pretty smitten instantly. I think they might have felt a little threatened by you," Julien says with a twinkle in her eye, her smile moving to the side with jest.

“Shut up, Jay,” you groan, covering your face with your hands as you lean back into the pillow.

Juliens chuckles slightly at your reaction. "What, it may have been true. I mean, have you seen you?" Julien says playfully, pinching your cheek playfully.

“Flattery will get you nowhere."

Julien's playful expression grows a bit more mischievous. "Oh, it'll get me somewhere, alright. I have a certain spot in mind for that flattery." Juliens nuzzles her into your neck, leaning over you, her body half off the bed, as her lips land near your ear. "You know which one I mean."

“Jules!” you laugh loudly, pushing her off.

Julien's grin grows even wider as she's pushed off of you, leaning back toward you, kissing your lips playfully. "Sorry, angel, I can't help myself. I see a pretty girl, and my hands get a little excited."

You cock one eyebrow up at Juliens use of “a pretty girl”. Julien's eyes narrow playfully at your reaction knowing she's been called out for her choice of words here.

"Okay, okay, fine. I see my really, really, incredibly stunningly gorgeous girlfriend, and I just can't help myself. Better?" Julien chuckles.

“Better."

Julien moves to finish ordering the food, patting your leg quickly before going downstairs to get her laptop to try and get some of the things that went wrong in your day sorted. She lays on the bed, resting against the headboard, your back slightly towards her as you focus on the TV. One of her hands moves back into a gentle massage on your back, trying to relax you, your muscles still somewhat tense.

Julien works on setting up an appointment at the Apple store to get you a new laptop, highlighting and noting which options would be best for your current needs. She also makes sure to transfer enough money for your portion of your rent, knowing you will pay her back as soon as you get paid. And you didn't ask, she knows you would do it eventually, but she goes ahead and orders some replacement paint (and a few other things on your wishlist), knowing you need to get prints done.

Julien's fingers move up to your scalp, trying to commit to memory to ask you tomorrow about the parking ticket information so she can pay it as soon as possible. Her fingers move rhythmically, each stroke a gentle massage of your head. She hums softly as she continues, her eyes moving back and forth between the TV and her phone, watching the delivery time on the door dash.

Her fingers slow down and stop in place for a moment, taking a deep breath and realizing despite the hardships, she's never been more fulfilled and content. She can’t help but smile with tender affection as her mind is filled with thoughts of the girl in her bed, this sweet, smart girl who's taken up an unexpected home in her heart.

“Can I take a power nap?” you mumble, already half asleep, Julien's tattooed fingers to blame.

"You want to take a little power nap until the food gets here?" She asks with a smirk, lifting her arm and widening it, a signal beckoning you to her side.

“Mhm,” you nod, moving on your side and snuggling into Julien.

Julien's face is loving as she watches you settle into her side. She pulls a bit of the blanket over both of you, "Go on, baby, take your nap. I'll watch out for the food."

g's notes: does this suck? i feel like its somehow so long and yet nothing is happening lol

g's notes again: yes its 1 am, i- i don't have an excuse actually

#julien baker x reader #boygenius x reader #julien baker fluff #julien baker x fem!reader #controversially young!gf universe #julien baker x young!gf #julien baker x soft!gf

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lastoneout · 6 months

Note

Okay, honest question, who is Yotsuba?

OH HO HO ANON I AM ALL TOO HAPPY TO EXPLAIN :3

Yotsuba is a character from the greatest manga ever made, Yotsuba&!(or Yotsuba to! it translates weird, most fans just call it Yotsuba) which is a comedy slice-of-life manga about Yotsuba Koiwai, a five year old girl, and her very strange yet wholesome family and friends!

It's from the same mangaka who gave us Azumanga Daioh, though while that manga is told in a four-panel comic style and doesn't really have much of an overarching plot, Youtsuba is done in a traditional manga style and despite also being very episodic there is a bit of a throughline surrounding Youtsuba getting settled into the neighborhood she just moved to, growing up, and eventually, in the later chapters, getting ready to go to school for the first time. Also, there are storylines that take place over multiple chapters as well! Despite the fact that the manga has been releasing since 2003, the chapters are pretty sporadic and the comic has only really covered about one year of the character's lives, but it never really feels slow or aimless. It feels almost...timeless? I guess. It's really nice.

Anyway, the manga is legit one of the most wholesome, funny, heartwarming things I have ever read. Kiyohiko Azuma is a fucking MASTER of comedy(you may have seen screencaps from a Sailor Moon fan comic he made going around on tumblr in which Jupiter accidentally sends Venus shooting across a pool that made me laugh so hard I cried) and he balances it well with lots of slow moments with GORGEOUS artwork where you can really take in the scenery and all of it is seeped in a wonderful nostalgia for childhood that legit makes me super emotional.

I don't think the manga has ever really taken off in terms of popularity, at least not to the degree that it deserves imo, which is likely in part due to the creator being firm about it never getting an anime adaptation and the sporadic release schedule, but it's far from unknown. There's been an official(I think??) score released and plenty of figurines and merch. It's also birthed a lot of memes, and it def has the same issue as One Piece where if you read it and love it you will turn into a walking billboard and try to drag your friends and family in with you. It's just THAT good!

You may have seen art of or people cosplaying Danbo, a "robot" made of old cardboard boxes that Yotsuba adores (Totally a real robot btw, def doesn't have a middle schooler shoved inside there, that would be silly wdym /s)

And this pose from the back of one of the manga volumes featuring Yotsuba, her father, and their extremely tall friend Jumbo has been redrawn with other characters like 500000 billion times

And you've also probably seen this going around tumblr before (that's Fūka she's my favorite cringe fail daughter I would literally die for her).

Also, I would be doing a disservice if I didn't mention Yanda, who is a friend of Yotsuba's dad and also Yotsuba's nemesis. He's a loser who constantly gets dunked on by a toddler it's fucking hilarious.

But yeah it really is just like, a manga that feels like a hug, or a warm blanket or something, it's so comforting and funny and fantastic, I find myself re-reading it any time life gets to be too hard just bcs it's that good at distracting me and reminding me that live is worth living.

And also given that it's literally my favorite manga, I saved up a bunch of screencaps to use as reaction images after a read one time, and thus now it's my own little joke that if you send me anon hate I'm just gonna send you back a picture of this cutie

Bcs come on how can you be angry when you're looking at this???

Anyway here's some screencaps of the main supporting cast bcs I love all of them so much <3

YOU WILL READ YOTSUBA I AM NO LONGER ASKING

#Ask #Anonymous #long post #sorry anon you hit the yotsuba button #I am legally obligated to gush about it #yotsuba #yotsuba&!

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hearts4youz · 7 months

Text

"Captains Daughter" ● Chapter One ●

A/N Heyy!! welcome to the first chapter of my first fic posted on Tumblr!!! I want to thank you in advance for reading my work, please provide criticism and feedback, I would greatly appreciate it :) I want to keep this authors note short so without further ado (ew) heres chapter one!

Word count 954

You strode into the mess hall like you've done many times before. Only this time, you worked here. When you were younger your father, Captain John Price, would bring you up to the base some days. You remembered ogling at the huge Humvee's and armored tanks in the garages, and the rooms full of state of the art weaponry you would see in the video games you had on the xbox your dad had bought you for Christmas one year. Smiling at the memory, you hopped in line to get a bite to eat before your meeting, which immediately followed the allotted time for breakfast.

Steak and eggs were being served today, based on the relatively low level of complaining from the people around you, you assumed it was one of the better meals served on base. As a kid, you never ate on base when your dad would bring you. When you were really young he would go out to McDonalds to get a happy meal for you. As you got older you packed your own lunch.

After you received your meal, you found an open spot at a half filled table. Nodding at those who were already seated there, you settled in at the other end of the table, savoring what would likely be your last bit of alone time for the rest of the day.

Your first day at a new base felt almost like your first day at a new school, you thought as you wandered the corridors trying to find the meeting room your father had told you to report to. You scanned the endless doorways, looking for one labelled "Meeting room 7." Cursing as you passed another one labeled storage, you thought you would be late. Turning another corner in this Labyrinth that was supposed to become your second home, you finally found it. You twisted the handle and stepped into a room with a long wooden table, a whiteboard streaked with poorly erased marker lines, and five men seated around the table.

You were greeted with a beaming smile from your father as you stepped inside and shut the door behind you.

"Gentlemen, this is my daughter Y/N, she has been recently assigned to our unit and will begin training with us and joining us for missions today," your father beamed, proud that the young woman he raised would be joining his team.

You offered a shy wave and a smile to the rest of the room, you studied each of them as they introduced themselves.

"I'm Sergeant Kyle Garrick, but you can call me Gaz, one sporting a ball cap with the British flag imprinted on the front said. he had a light stubble on his chin and above his lip.

"Everyone calls me soap 'round here," The guy with the mohawk grinned, he appeared to be the goofiest out of the group. Next to him was a tall man, face obscured by a skull mask. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

"Ghost, Lieutenant," His thick Manchester accent stated. The exposed portion of his face was unreadable as he looked at you.

"Alejandro Vargas, Colonel, Mexican Special Forces," The last one to introduce himself said with a smile.

"Well, I'm excited to start working alongside you all, and i'm looking forward to getting to know you all," you responded kindly, receiving nods and murmured agreements in return.

The one who called himself soap beckoned you over and patted the seat next to him as your father started yakking about the day's tasks. He grinned as you sat down next to him.

"Price says your a sergeant," he queried.

"I am, and you?" you responded.

"twins," he laughed.

While Price droned on, you and Soap chatted about anything and everything. You half listened to your dad, not wanting to miss important information and have a huge fuck up your first day on the job.

Eventually, Soap gave you the run down on each member of the unit. You learned that him and Gaz were good friends, Alejandro leads another group called Los Vaqueros, and the real name of the scary ghost guy was Simon Riley.

"He's a man of few words at first, well actually he's always a man of few words," Soap corrected himself. "but he's a good guy when you get to know him, he's an excellent soldier too," he continued.

"I don't think he's very fond of me joining," you said.

"Naw, he'll come around eventually, he's just trying to act all tough" Soap insisted.

you hummed, tuning back into the meeting. Towards the end of it, your father mentioned assigning a training partner for you. Task Force 141 was in much more violent territory, with tougher foes. You would need extra help to catch up to the skill level of the rest of the group

"I'd like Ghost to assist Y/N in training," Price finished.

You could see Ghost's brows furrowing from the eye holes in his mask, You could see Ghosts brows furrow from the eye holes in his mask, they were a shade of light blue, almost grey. Other than that, Ghost had no comment about the order. Price dismissed the meeting.

You waited for everyone to clear out before walking up to your dad, he kissed your forehead and smiled at you "Need something kiddo?" He asked.

"Well I can't find where my bunk is for starters," you said sheepishly.

This new base was huge, in your old one everyone slept in barracks. Here, everyone gets their own room.

"Of course kid," He chuckled as you made your way out of the meeting room.

Today, you would settle in. Tomorrow, the real work begins.

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melanieph321 · 3 months

Text

Ruben Dias x Reader - Risk It All Part 2/6

The way I described this outfit 🤣. Hahaha I really didn't know how else to describe it 😅

Read to find out!

Reader gets pregnant by Ruben. Although the two are not together Ruben promises to support her through the pregnancy, eventually letting reader stay with him until the child is born. (This fic includes alot of angst and serious topics)

Enjoy!

You were ready to quit school too, but Lina convinced you that your belly wouldn't show for at least three more months. The plan was to still attened classes, eventually blaming the changes in your body on a poor diet. You wouldn't be stripped of your dancing scholarship for that, at least not right away. Nevertheless, you didn't really feel like dancing anymore, or attend classes for that matter. But right now going to school was the only thing that felt normal about your life.

"Y/N."

"Ruben?"

You were on your way, leaving campus, when suddenly you bumped into him.

"What are you doing here?"

He knew your schedule, at least which time your classes ended.

"I think we need to talk."

He came disguised, wearing a plumbers jacket and construction boots. A working man's outfit. People on the streets were passing him by, only throwing second glances at his black Mercedes that stood parked along the sidewalk.

"Ruben, I can't...."

Lina wouldn't like this. Not at all.

"Please." He instead, nodding his head towards his car. You hesitated at first, but let him hold the door open for you as you slipped into the passenger seat.

"Where are you taking me?"

He was driving fast, maneuvering past cars that were slowing you down.

"Ruben?"

Eventually he stopped, the car having pulled up to a...

"Family Health Clinic?" You read it off a large sign. "Ruben are you serious right now?"

He had been quiet up until now, turning to you with a serious look on his face. "I wanna see you take the test."

"Wow." You exclaimed. "So you don't believe me, you don't think I'm pregnant?"

"No."

"Why would I lie?"

"I dunno." He shrugged. "Some women lie."

It was laughable, disgustingly laughable. "Ruben, you're the one who came on to me, coming to the café every day, asking me to go out with you. I make the mistake of letting you fuck me without a condom and now I'm the liar. How is that anyway near fair?"

"Y/N, you're pregnant, telling me I'm the baby's father, with no proof. What am I suppose to think?"

"You know what, fine." You fumbled with the door, desperate to get out of his car. You almost had it when...

"Wait."

Goosebumps covered your forearms as Ruben grabbed a hold of your wrist, preventing you from leaving.

"Wait, there's people in there." He said, eyes trying to see through the cars tinted windows.

"So?" You tugged his hand away. "There's people everywhere Ruben, so what?"

"Exactly." He said. "I...I mean we, can't be seen going in there....together. This has to be done in private."

You pinched the bridge of your nose, irritated. "Ruben, if it's so difficult for you I'll just go in there by myself."

"No."

His hand returned to touch you, this time your knee.

"Ruben?"

He sighed. "If the baby is mine, then...."

"Yes?"

He looked to you, eyes sincere. "Then I have to be accountable. I want to be accountable."

Your heart reacted by making an attempt to leap out of your chest. "I..." What could you possibly say in that moment? You had pre-made the assumption that Ruben would leave you, wanting nothing to do with you or the baby. Lina even advised you to make it easy for him, easy for Ruben to walk out of your life. However, he wasn't that kind of man.

"I'll take you home." He muttured. "There's tests that they can send us. Then we'll know for sure."

He sounded unhappy. Why did you want him to be happy? Maybe because you were happy, happy that Ruben was the father and not some random guy you met on a drunk night out. Believe it or not, at some point the thought of fucking Ruben in the back of his car sounded like a good idea to you.

It still did.

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #ruben dias imagine #football angst

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ashensgrotto · 1 month

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Why, greetings my dear anon! I’m happy that you enjoyed the ‘Poor Unfortunate Souls’ to read it that many times - and I apologized that I haven’t been able to get started on the Scarbia segment yet (between that and Raison D’être plus work & other stories… and GloMas, I really need to get my priorities straight seriously -_-). However, I do intend on working on it as soon as I can so I can get it out sometime this month or in December - I mean, I think that would be the most logical since that one takes place during holiday break, right?

Now, for your request - I hope head cannons are alright for the time being. I’ll try to come back to them and do short stories for each of them that follows the same concept design as “Am I Feeling Love?” - which is the first installment of the Yandere!Azul series. I'm also going to divide this into two parts - about halfway through I realized I hadn't posted anything in a while and thus, I want to make it up to all of you for not writing or posting anything for some time.

Part 1 (Here) will feature Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, and Jamil Viper

Part 2 (Here) will feature Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, and Malleus Draconia

***

Vil Schoenheit

Vil is a combination yandere - he is both a studdle stalker type, but also a projection type. Of course, in his youth, he was an up-and-coming movie star… famous for the villainous roles he played. This caused a lot of grief in his childhood, not to mention some of the trauma he had endured from other children who believed everything they saw on the big screen - thinking it was real, even though it was just special effects and players playing their roles on the stage. And, even though Jack Howl became the closest thing he had to a friend, there was nothing that he could do to shake the fear of wanting to be ‘the good guy’, the ‘hero’... to be the most beautiful of all.

As a junior in Night Raven, Vil and the rest of Pompfiore were just as shocked as the rest of the school when you appeared. At first, Vil was not interested in what you may have to offer - but ever faithful Rook was the one to point out certain features you had; soft cheeks, a creamy complexion, eyes wide and filled with wonder - not to mention a figure that would’ve had some acting agencies dying for; you almost reminded him the the princess the fairest queen had raised years ago. Vil was reluctant, but stepped forward and offered the headmage a place for you to stay in Pomfiore until you could return home.

It was at this point that Vil realized that you were more than what you appeared. Whatever he asked of you, you did it - to nearly perfection. Scrub the ballroom flooring? It shone brighter than diamonds when you were done. Wipe down the windows? Clear as crystals. Tend to the gardens around the dormitory? Neat and tidy without a single flower or bush out of line. This, of course, caused Vil to backpeddle a little bit - if anyone from outside the dorm found out about how well you followed instructions (specifically a certain lion or scheming octopus), there would be trouble. Hence, Vil decided to try and keep you close, luring you in like the villain he was always meant to play.

He learned quickly that your home in your world was… chaotic. You often traveled back and forth between two families, plus your grandparents. If you had a choice in the matter - you would’ve stayed with your father and your stepmother full time as your mother and her on-again-off-again boyfriend often mistreated you. You were in charge of the cooking, cleaning, and caring for the home while under your mother’s care and were often trapped in her home more times out of the year. Vil had remembered about Niege LeBlance’s situation when the two stars were children - he could sympathize with your situation - and decided to take you under his wing. Vigorous training began shortly thereafter, and you soon found yourself secured under Vil’s thumb. You, along with Epel, were put through beauty regimens regularly, vocal and annunciation lessons followed classes and chores, and fashion and gossip columns replaced your books at night; and if either of you tried to escape or slip out of something, ever faithful Rook brought you straight back to Vil - a disapproving scowl on his face, arms crossed over his chest, and heeled foot tapping, looking very much like a disapproving mother.

With the arrival of spring and the fast approaching date of the Cultural Fair, Vil’s energy became more focused on the SDC - working long hours into the night perfecting the team for the competition. You did try to help sooth much of the stress that had fallen on the headwarden and offered your assistance in any way you could, Grim acting as your assistant under the watchful eye of Rook. It was also here that things slowly began to take a turn for the worst - after the mention of Neige LeBlance, Vil had begun turning to his phone more often, asking it every day who was the most beautiful of all. Mira always answered… Neige LeBlance.

The last straw was when you and Rook attempted to stop him from poisoning Neige, the vice warden ordering Neige to run and evacuate the premises. The other members of the team rushing in at the sound of Rook’s shouting. Vil couldn’t forgive himself for what he had attempted to do… he was as ugly as the poison that he created. If only he was the fairest… if only Neige LeBlance hadn’t walked into his life again… if only you could understand what it meant to be… the fairest one of all…

Idia Shroud

Idia would also be a combination type yandere - possessive and clingy on a short list, with subtle stalker on the longer list. Not that anyone can blame him of course - his childhood was spent in it’s entirety on the Island of Woe, the next Shroud in line to take up the mantle as the Watchman of the Underworld. He, and his little brother Ortho, were the only children that lived in the facility, spending their days playing video games, reading manga and comic books, as well as creating original characters of their own. However, tragedy struck when the two boys snuck out of their room during a routine lockdown and one of the phantoms possessed the younger brother - Idia’s grief and self-blame pushed him away from others, even after he was able to reunite with his brother… in a technological sense.

Years later, during his junior year at NRC, Idia was surprised when Ortho volunteered to bring you into Ignihyde - as many other students were. When Idia demanded an explanation - Ortho explained the scan he did on you indicated that you had a lot of the same qualities as many of Ignihyde's students. What a drag - but what's done is done, and Idia found himself, not only in charge of a dorm, but an unexpected guest as well.

For the first few months, Idia holed himself up in his room - trying to avoid an encounter with the ‘normie’ of the dorm; the magicless guest of Ignihyde. Ortho attempted over and over again to get him to come out and meet the new member, telling him all about how interested you were in manga comics, fantasy RPGs, and the like - but Idia always refused… until one night during a routine midnight snack run, he ran into you. You were smaller than he expected you to be, the dorm’s heavy leather jacket baggy over your form - also swapping the typical heavy denim jeans and boots for leggings and slippers. Idia was even more surprised when you offered him a large roll of chocolate chip cookies you had picked up from the school store, a smile on your face, “Hello, I’m (y/n). You must be Idia, right?”

And following that first encounter, Idia slowly began to warm up to you. He was drawn to your sassiness and imagination, especially when the two of you talked about video games - Idia even went as far as to introduce you to his online friend, Muscle Red - the gamer excited about having another runner in the mix for events.

However, what no one knew was that Idia slowly began to worm his way into your online presence. He hacked into your computer that Ortho had provided for you and watched when you were online, who you interacted with, and what you talked about. At first, Idia reasoned it was a way to get to know you - the best way to find out the internal workings of someone was to figure out about the mask you wore, right? But even so, the real pusher was when he was spying on a chatroom you were a part of and one member began insulting you - saying that you weren’t really a gamer, that you didn’t know anything about online gaming, or anime, and that you were a fake… a ‘normie’. If Idia had been standing next to you, you would have seen his typical calm blue hair turn red hot - hotter than the flames of Tartarus. No one was going to get away with calling his friend a ‘normie’ - magicless or not.

In the months that followed, Idia began to slowly attach himself to you - spending more time in your presence than ever before. Then, when he was summoned back to the Island of Woe to test the students that had overblotted, he brought you along with him, keeping you close as each test was conducted, examined, and recorded. The look on your face and the questions you asked him, yes, brought him joy.. But also made him worry - what did you think of him now that you knew what he was doomed to become? Would you eventually end up like Ortho because of his mistakes? Idia didn’t want to think about that… but even so, to be free of his responsibilities… to not have to be the caretaker of the Phantoms any longer… to reset the world… maybe then, you would be safe…

Malleus Draconia

Malleus follows the same combination style - he’s definitely the obsessive, the stalker, and possessive style. Living in Briar Valley, it’s no secret that as the next in line it is his duty to help provide an heir that will take over for him when the time comes. As his mother and father had loved each other before him, Malleus often wished for the same kind of companionship that they had - however it is hard with Lilia away caring for a young human and Sebek, hence the only thing Malleus has is the comfort of his dreams. He dreams a lot, images of a fair young human traveling through the forests of Briar Valley playing in his mind - Malleus far too fearful to approach.

Many years later - during his junior year at NRC - Lilia informs him of a strange individual that has arrived - a magicless guest that is to be taking residence within the Ramshakle dorm that was on the school campus. Of course, Lilia had known about Malleus’ tendency to spend quiet nights in the dorm, listening to the sounds of the old building creek, the windows rattling against the wind… the silence and stillness of the place. Even so, Malleus does continue to travel to the dorm at night, walking around the premises like a dragon guarding his hoard. One night, however, he encounters you - the child of man with no magic abilities whatsoever - and is surprised by how easily you talk to him, without any fear in your eyes, even more so when you nickname him ‘Tsunotarou’. It slowly becomes a habit for him, heading to the Ramshakle dorm each night daily to spend time with you and talk to you - the first friend he has outside of the protection of Silver and Sebek.

Malleus often sends Lilia to keep an eye on you, much to the chagrin of Sebek - the elder warming up to you and sharing everything he finds interesting with you with his charge - how you love visiting the other dorms, spending time with Ace, Deuce, and Grim, the struggles you encounter… never mind each of the overblot incidents that cause destruction and harm. Malleus then uses the reports to gain your trust, always lending out a hand to help when needed and offering comfort when there was none to be had. You slowly became his secret treasure - something he wanted to hide away, to protect endlessly until the end of your days.

But still… to a fae, a hundred years can pass in the blink of an eye… a thousand years was just the same way… And when the revelation of Lilia’s powers slowly depleting became noticeable, Malleus became lost for words. He was losing the closest thing he had to a father… and you were close to finding a way back to your world. He couldn’t allow that - he couldn’t lose anyone that was close to him.

When the others attempted to stop him - Malleus easily overpowered them. After all, he is one of the top five mages of the world - his power as a Draconia was more than enough to defeat an army, let alone students in a magic school. With ‘Fae of Maleficence’ casted, darkness covered the school - pulling everyone into slumber and keeping them as they were indefinitely. Everyone could be the protagonist of their own story… everyone could be happy… to live in their current state… and he would never be alone again…

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bloodybreakupscene · 11 months

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I had sent a request like yesterday- and AAA IM SO HAPPY TO SEE IT DONE ALREADY!! IT WAS SO CUTE >^<

I had another idea, cause my brain has been absolutely filled with different thoughts! Once again, earth 1610! Miles morales- but this time with a very well off partner who tends to spoil him alot. Like gift after gift, as soon as Miles is saying he likes or wants something- they're getting it for him!!

It's just something they really enjoy doing and they love seeing the smiles they get from Miles when he sees the gifts!!

-> 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐇.

miles morales x reader

-> u like to buy ur cutie patootie bf miles expensive gifts and he's like aw :(

-> btw guys i do other characters LOL i kinda wanna try writing for hobie!! i've been trying to research british slang but i can't stop laughing (it's the AMERICAN 🤓🇺🇲🔥🔫 in me i swear)

you and your boyfriend miles were walking along the streets of brooklyn, occasionally stopping for snacks or to observe the stores placed amongst each other. you held his hand and he held yours. this was just another after school thing you two would do.

". . . and when i walked in he was wearing my shoes! like what the hell man." miles ranted, slightly shifting the story because if he told you what actually happened he'd reveal his identity as spiderman, and that wasn't a path he wanted to go down just yet.

"pfft, that's funny. you know, if it bothers you so much i could just buy you another pair of shoes." you reply, nonchalantly.

"huh? no way! that's your money, besides, you already bought me enough stuff."

"i gifted you stuff," you corrected, before joking once more, "you deserve it anyway! i mean, c'mon miles be grateful."

"i am grateful! i just feel bad, you know, they're all so expensive." he defends.

"name ONE gift that was expensive."

"the ohuhu marker set!"

it was miles' birthday and you were at his dorm for a small celebration, just the two of you [ ganke left because he didn't wanna third-wheel. ] so, you two were just sitting on the floor as he opened the carefully wrapped gift.

"so, how's being fifteen so far?" you make small talk, while a pit of happiness boils inside of you as you can't wait for his reaction to the gift you got him.

"totally fun. can't wait to do adult stuff." he laughs, and just as he finishes his sentence he sees a black bag with markers in them, specifically 216 markers. it was a set that cost roughly $170.00.

"oh my god!" he stands up, that's the reaction hoped for, "these are so cool." he rushes to pull you up, kissing you on your lips, holding a side of your face with his hand.

"how much were they?"

"don't worry! it's your birthday you deserve it." you pull him into your arms, embracing him.

"i looked it up when you left and they were almost $200!"

"you're worth more than $200 miles."

"aw," he leans his head on your shoulder as you both continue to walk down the street. "wait! what about that other time, when you got me a camera.”

it was summer time, you and miles walked into a random electronics store. as you both observed the different assortments of cameras, miles picked one of them up, a small, old digicam.

"my uncle used to have one of these." he says, as he moves the camera around in his hand to look at the many details on the camcorder. over the few months you've been dating, you noticed the admiration he had for his uncle, he even mentioned going down under the subway tracks to graffiti on the walls.

"do you wanna get it?"

"nah, it's $40. let's go get lunch, i'm starving."

"wait! but you like it right? i could get it for you, if you want."

"what! no way, i should be the one spoiling you." he wraps his arm around your waist.

you both eventually walked out the store, but later, for christmas that year, you gave it him as an early gift. miles felt like crying, not a sad cry, more like, 'i've never felt more appreciated in my life i love you so much' kind of cry. he couldn't stop hugging and kissing you that day.

"the camera was a gift for both of us." you rolled your eyes, "i just gave it to you to hold, indefinitely!"

miles gives you a look, "whatever, you know i'd love anything you give me, regardless of price."

#fanfic #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #across the spiderverse #beyond the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miles morales x reader #miles morales #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you

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lemurzsquad · 2 months

Text

Hand Sanitizer

Pairing: Sakusa x gn!reader (platonic or romantic, up to interpretation)

Summary: You and Sakusa hate each other with a passion, and it's almost always a disagreement over hand sanitizer. So when you leave to wash your hands and don't come back, Sakusa learns why exactly you avoid using it so adamantly.

A/N: Okay so this fic. Hooooo boy. This fic. I've been wanting to write it for a while and finally have. It started as a "Reasons why I'm pretty sure Sakusa would hate me irl" and turned into this.

So I have a skin condition known as aquagenic wrinkling of the palms (or AWP), which affects my hands when they come in contact with water, which is what this fic is about. I never hear about this condition anywhere, and it's very lonely sometimes, and there's no real treatment for it (from what I've seen). So this is essentially a vent where I take my skin condition seriously for once instead of just making water allergy jokes to cope lol

(More info about AWP here)

Word count: 3898

cw: skin condition (non-graphic descriptions and discussion) (AWP - please read above), hurt/comfort, angst, crying, enemies to friends...?, emotionally constipated apologies from Sakusa, hand sanitizer is evil /j, vent, not proofread because I just wanted to get this done and posted to do literally anything else, (please lmk if I should tag anything else)

(Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, and everything written here is purely from my own experiences and observations. If you would like to learn more, please do your own research; this is not designed to be informative. It's purely for myself and for awareness.)

You and Sakusa had never gotten along.

You were certain you knew when it started, having been completely oblivious of one another up until that point.

It was when you were both first years in high school, and there happened to be a lizard in the classroom. You, upon seeing it, immediately proceeded to pick it up and ask the teacher to let you put it outside, to which they agreed.

You came back to the classroom, dusting off your hands, when a curly-haired boy took it upon himself to comment, “Go use some hand sanitizer, would you?”

You squinted at him, partly confused as to why he was talking to you and how you had never noticed he sat there before. “No thanks,” you answered, “I'd rather just wash my hands.”

“I don't think just washing your hands would be enough,” he rebutted with a sharp look behind his bangs. “You probably don't even know how to properly wash your hands.”

“Well, too bad! I'm not using hand sanitizer!” You were starting to get annoyed, crossing your arms.

Somehow, that seemed to make him even more disgusted, possibly at the thought that you were spreading whatever it was on your hands onto your clothes now, too.

The two of you threw jabs back and forth until the teacher separated you, which you were both happy to oblige. The animosity between you never seemed to quite dissipate even as the year went on and you became second years. You almost felt bad for the misunderstanding, knowing it was entirely your own fault, but how were you supposed to explain to this random kid that you couldn't use hand sanitizer even if you wanted to? At least, in your head you couldn't.

At some point, you and Sakusa became something of enemies within your class—renowned ones, at that. People would often ask the both of you why you hated each other so much, but your answers were vague at best.

“He's just so pretentious,” you said once.

“They're just so obstinate,” he said once.

And thus, an impasse stretched between you. You hadn't even learned his name until months after your first encounter, too bitter to really care.

Despite the efforts you both went through to avoid being within the presence of the other, you somehow still ended up nearby. Maybe it was your teachers attempting to make you get along—maybe it was the universe laughing in your face.

Throughout that entire time, you still faithfully avoided hand sanitizer like the plague. The one time the nearest bathroom was out of order for a little while and you couldn't wash your hands, you used as little of the accursed substance as you could. Whatever microscopically thin layer that coated your hands there was, you shook it off almost violently, simultaneously disgusted by the feeling of something on your skin and afraid of what it might do.

The disapproving look Sakusa gave you when he saw that was palpable.

At some point, you hated each other mostly out of principle. You'd both kept it up this long—it would be weird to suddenly just let it go since your flimsy justifications seemed enough until now. To admit that you were being unreasonable would be worse than getting along, you separately reasoned.

So when you were paired up for a project, you couldn't help but grimace. Sakusa was the first to go up to the teacher about it.

“I can't work with them,” you heard him say. For once, you agreed with him.

The teacher, however, dismissed his concerns with a wave, saying, “In life, you don't get to pick who you work with. Sometimes you'll have to try to put aside your differences to get your work done.”

It sounded stupid to you, like some half-hearted excuse so they wouldn't have to rearrange seating or partners. But it's not like you had any place to argue, so you resigned to just sucking it up.

Instead of working together, you both divvied up tasks as quickly as possible and did what you assigned yourselves—separately.

All was going well; you ignored each other and worked on the project silently. Despite other groups discussing their plans and the room being filled with chatter, your share corner was dead silent save the sound of pen on paper.

Which didn't last long when suddenly the tip of your pen snapped off. The now open ink tube spilled onto your hands, and when you tried to minimize the damage, it only got worse. By the time you dropped the pen onto your open notebook, raising your hands in surrender, they were absolutely coated in black splotches. A sense of defeat washed over you as you watched your words get covered and your paper stained in ebony.

Taking a moment to glance at your already ruined hands, you just resigned to picking up the pen and throwing it out. It was your favorite pen, which was unfortunate. It couldn't be helped, you told yourself.

Sakusa had noticed you flailing about your desk, silently judging you for the clumsy mess you made when you should have just thrown out the pen the second it broke to avoid the noir crime scene that now covered you and your area. He scowled knowing you would now have to redo whatever you had written for the project.

It was nearing the end of school, the class you were currently in being the final one of the day. You approached the teacher's table and asked if you could go wash your hands. They checked the clock to see about twenty minutes left before replying, “Make it quick.”

You walked past Sakusa's desk on your way to the door. He made the snide remark, “You could get the ink off really well with hand sanitizer.”

It took everything in you not to snap back at him, but you just hurried past, careful not to touch anything on the way out.

Sakusa knew he would never understand you. From the moment you met, you stubbornly refused what seemed to be basic courses of action. Touch something dirty? Use hand sanitizer. Eating? Wash your hands before and after to keep from touching anything.

The couple of times he had seen you wash your hands, it was very brief, and you seemed to avoid using the air dryer, opting for paper towels that were arguably undoing whatever progress you made in washing your hands.

At the same time, you avoided any task that would require you to touch dust or water. You always asked to sweep or clean windows, so much so that everyone just ended up giving you those tasks to get you to stop asking. If you did get something on your hands, you immediately wiped or shook it off, seemingly disgusted. You would even briefly run it under water just to dry it on your clothes so they weren't wet. It seemed there were things worse than water if you were willing to rinse them off.

But it was still that one avoidance that came between you: the hand sanitizer. It was practically the same as water, and it dried quickly. Even if it was comparable to washing your hands, it was still much more convenient in most scenarios. Yet you continued to adamantly refuse to ever use it. At some point you declared, “I would rather die,” when he had tried to squeeze some on your hand, earning him his wrist grabbed and pushed away.

He just didn't understand.

So when he found you sobbing in front of the stairs, opening your hands and clenching them closed into loose fists repeatedly, he was beyond confused.

You hadn't come back to class after leaving to wash the remnants of your broken pen, so the teacher decided it was your project partner, Sakusa, who should find you and return the belongings you left behind. He went over to your open notebook that remained just where you left it and noted the handful of words that were still visible.

Sakusa folded the cover over, enclosing the now dried puddle of ink. The remainder of your things he scooped into his arms, leaving the room once the halls had cleared a significant amount. As much as he wanted to just leave your things and go to volleyball practice, he figured it would end poorly.

Plus, what could possibly have kept you out of class for so long that you would have left everything behind? There was no way it had taken that long to get most of the ink off of your skin, so either you had just skipped the last bit of school or something happened. Since you hadn't taken your wallet with you with your IDs (he checked your bag when he put the notebook back inside, sure that it was completely dry), he reasoned it was probably the latter.

“Tsk.” They would have been able to get it off with hand sanitizer, he thought, brows furrowed. This is such a waste of time.

Sakusa wandered through the halls when he didn't find you by the bathrooms. He was starting to think it was a lost cause trying to return your bag; he even had to text his cousin to tell him why he would be late. It wasn't until he got to a particularly empty hallway did he hear something.

Quietly, in a dark alcove with a set of stairs leading up, a figure was huddled against a wall. Their tears were soft but anguished, stifled because it was in the environment of school. Sakusa had tried to ignore them until he realized it was you.

You held your palms up just past your knees that were pressed against your chest. You opened and closed your hands, a fresh cascade of tears painting your cheeks as you choked back a sob. You pressed—with more pressure than could have been painful—your thumb into the center of your other palm, nails digging into the back of your hand. You set your closed eyes on your knees with the hope that it might stop the water that leaked from them.

Sakusa, with great caution, approached your hunched figure. He didn't want to, he really didn't. You were the person he probably hated the most at his school, but somehow he knew he'd seem like an awful person if he didn't at least give your belongings to you directly—he wouldn't give you the satisfaction of another thing to hold over his head.

And yet those thoughts went to the back of his mind when he crouched down in front of you. His mask and curly hair obscured his focused expression as he tried to study your current state. The moment you seemed to hear him there, you held your breath and repressed your already quiet cries.

When Sakusa got close, you buried yourself further in to hide your face behind your knees and clenched your hands even more.

He frowned and something in his chest tightened. His brows furrowed deeper over his eyes and he huffed. He saw your nails digging into the skin on the backs of your hands.

“That's going to leave a mark if you keep doing that.” It came out more biting than he had meant it, but he was being serious.

It was then that you could no longer hold back your sobs, almost choking on your own tears. The grip you had of your hands softened and unlinked; instead, you lightly shook them apart from each other. Sakusa had to take a moment to process, but it almost seemed like there was something wrong with them.

He just wanted to get you to stop crying so he could give you your bag. As much as he hated the gesture, he asked, “What's wrong with your hands?”

You curled your lips in to bite down on them, fighting back hiccups. With your eyes tightly screwed shut, you upturned your palms.

The sight alone made Sakusa's eyebrows fly up in shock.

He didn't mean to, but he grabbed your wrist to get a better look. Ignoring the ink stains that faintly persisted, there were pale, patchy splotches in the center of your palm and on the side edges of your fingers; there were even some tiny pale rings on the periphery of the bigger splotches. But underneath that, the skin seemed as if it had soaked in water for hours or maybe even days. Not only were there dozens of deep crevice lines trailing from the tips of all of your fingers to their bases but the lines on your palms were more prominent, surrounded by profound, dense wrinkles that spanned the entire surface.

His eyes darted around your hand for a few moments just trying to comprehend what he was looking at. It looked unnatural—it looked painful. And when he met your gaze, he saw unidentifiable emotions flash across it. Was it shame? Regret? He couldn't be sure aside from the blood that seemed to drain from your face.

You tried to pull your hand away, but Sakusa wouldn't let go. His eyes never left yours, searching for some kind of answer. When he couldn't find it there, he asked, “What happened?” It was soft, calm, and even, enough to make you tear up a little again.

The second time you tugged, he released your wrist. You pushed your thumb into your palm again, looking away. Hiding your hands away in the space between your stomach and where your legs were still tucked against your torso, you sniffled a few times and tried to even out your breathing.

“I-It's normal… it just h-happens when I-I touch water…” You stuttered and mumbled between hiccups.

“That is not normal,” Sakusa said a little too quickly and curtly, realizing it probably would have made it seem like he was berating you.

With another sniffle, you said, “It's a– it's a skin condition.” You started to scratch your palms partly out of stress and partly out of the persistent stinging. “It reacts to water i-if I touch it for too long.”

His eyebrows knitted in concern. “Was that from washing your hands then?”

You gave a small nod, still avoiding his gaze. “I couldn't get the ink off and ended up w-washing them for too long…”

“You could have just used hand sanitizer,” he said genuinely. For the moment, he almost forgot he was supposed to hate you, more focused on being worried than anything.

Your answer was your head shaking rather fervently. “No, I can't.” You lowered to set your forehead against your knees again. “Well, actually, I don't know. I-It just scares me and I don't want to r-risk any more pain than I already have. I haven't h-had good experiences with it…”

“What did hand sanitizer ever do to you?” It came out snarkier than Sakusa had meant. He slowly lowered himself to sit with his legs crossed in front of you, your bag still next to him.

You let out a heavy breath. “I was a dumb kid in elementary,” you started. “I had an obsession with scented hand sanitizer for probably a few months. I used it multiple times a day, and even though I don't know for sure if it's related, my hands got worse after that year I think. Only after that did I finally go to the doctor to get it diagnosed after my mom did a ton of research. I agreed to avoid hand sanitizer from then on. I just don't want to risk being in more pain…”

You both went silent.

“Oh…” It was all that left Sakusa's lips. A sudden wave of guilt crashed into him. All of the times he had berated you for not using hand sanitizer and all of his snide, rude, annoyed remarks resurfaced in his conscience. He felt terrible. He felt bad. Someone was hurting and all he did was throw lighter fluid on their problems—for months—and it seemed there was finally a spark to set it all ablaze. The thought that he started it all made it worse.

“Stop with whatever weird look you have on your face.” You squinted at him and his downturned, scrunched face. You'd calmed down enough to be making quips, it would appear. “It's not like I can do anything about it.” You shrugged, half-hearted.

He searched your face again for any sign of emotion aside from blank resignation, but he couldn't find anything. “Is there no treatment?”

You shrunk down further into your huddle, not vocally answering, but the answer was still clear.

Something about the whole situation made his heart hurt; it made him upset, he realized. “So what, you just have to avoid water?”

The nod of your head to the side looked pathetic as you avoided his eyes. After several seconds of silence, you said, “I used to love swimming. It's not like I can't, it's just… it hurts and it makes me feel gross. I don't even like the beach anymore because if I go in the water and get my hands wet, there's no real place to dry them off.” You laughed humorlessly. “It's stupid. You'd think I would get more used to it and get over it as I got older, but it just made me more upset. Why me? Why did I have to get stuck with a condition that's rare and isn't really bad enough for people to care enough to find a treatment? At least, it feels that way…

“I know it's awful, but I sometimes wonder, ‘Why didn't I get stuck with something worse? Then I might have a way to treat it. Then people might care.’”

You glanced up to judge Sakusa's reaction, instantly regretting spilling your feelings and questioning why you did. Tears threatened to flood over again and spill from your eyes. You felt helpless; not only from your condition but also from being stared down by the person you were certain despised you more than anyone. You were giving him more ammo to be disgusted and to detest you, too.

But you couldn't find his face. His ebony bangs hung down like a curtain and his mask further obscured your view, his downturned line of sight completely blocked out.

When the silence was beginning to crawl around on your skin and became almost deafening, you took in a sharp breath and held it for a moment before breathing out a tiny apology. “Sorry… you don't wanna hear about this…”

“No.”

“...No? No… what?”

“No…”

Sakusa was struggling to get out the right words. How does he say sorry to you in a way that you might actually believe? How does he tell you that you're allowed to be upset, that you can talk about it? How does he make you understand that it's okay?

And how is he supposed to get you to believe it when it's coming from him?

His voice sounded almost angry but not at you—it was for you. “You can be upset,” he said between gritted teeth, hands clenched into tight fists. “No one deserves to have to live everyday avoiding something so common just to not be in pain. And no one deserves to have some jerk constantly making light of it even if they don't know.”

The way your eyes widened and water dripped down your cheeks in sudden streams said it all. “Oh…” was all you could muster before you completely broke down. No one you had ever told about your condition had seemed to fully grasp how much you were hurting inside, how every day was a struggle to avoid reminding yourself of how awful your hands were, how even looking at your own hands sometimes made you ashamed and loathing of yourself. It was a constant reminder that there would always be something wrong with you; you would always be broken, and there was no way to fix it.

Sakusa let you cry with the renewed emotional rush. He remained firmly planted where he sat, not moving an inch. He was not going anywhere.

And he didn't, even as your sobbing slowed to quiet sniffles and wiping mostly dried tears. It took a while before you finally muttered, “Thank you… No one's ever said that to me before…”

“Well, they should.” His words were curt but lacked any sharpness to them.

When you looked up to meet his eyes, he turned them away from you. Hesitantly, he uttered, “Look, I can't promise you that we'll get along, but I can assure you I'll try not to bother you anymore. No more stupid hand sanitizer comments anymore, either.” It was the only peace offering he could make for a chance to pave a path towards making amends.

You let out a breath through your nose that was close to a laugh before hiccuping, “Next thing you know, you'll be telling me we'll work on our group project together.”

“Don't push it,” he answered, quickly and humorlessly. It only made you laugh, although he couldn't comprehend why.

“It's getting late,” Sakusa tried to divert. “You should head home.”

You reached for your phone, and the little numbers on the screen confirmed his statement. Suddenly, a flash of panic crossed your face. “I don't have my bag,” you state frantically, “or any of my stuff.”

It was then that Sakusa held up the original object of his search for you, gently lowering it to the ground. “The teacher told me to bring it to you since you never came back.”

Relief washed over you in a calming rush, and you finally seemed to relax. You pulled your knees away from your chest and sat with your legs crossed. Confirming that everything was in your bag, an immensely relieved sigh left your lips in a gust.

“Thank you.” Your gaze was earnest, trying to convey just how much you meant your words to make sure it sunk in.

Sakusa just grumbled, “Whatever.” He was back to his usual self despite how he stumbled embarrassingly when he got up and realized his legs had gone numb. He reluctantly offered up his hand to help you stand, but you only looked at it for a moment, mouth pressed into a line, before you got to your feet on your own.

He pretended he hadn't tried to assist you, instead pivoting on his heels and shoving his hands in his pockets with a slouched posture. Without another word exchanged, you both headed towards the school's entrance.

The air fell into a comfortable quiet until then. When you did reach the entrance, however, you both stopped in your tracks. You turned to Sakusa, giving him a soft smile and a small wave, and headed down the street. Only when you turned the corner, out of sight, did he head back towards the volleyball gym. He was so horribly beyond late that it was almost laughable.

But he didn't care, knowing it meant someone was there in that very moment for you when you needed it most. So what if he also started to mend whatever nonexistent relationship was there in the process? What mattered was that someone told you that it was okay.

And Sakusa was okay with that. Being late to practice wasn't nearly as pressing as his long overdue apologies. What could be more important than that?

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

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AITA for not telling my partners I'm a system?

💚🐻

To preface this, I don't use Tumblr and I'm using my partner's account, so I would rather ask this anonymously. Forgive any non-tumblr-isms 😅.

This happened a while ago, but to be honest I can't let this go. I feel so horrible about it despite being reassured and I figured Tumblr, who has a lot of systems/people with DID/OSDD, would be able to give me an unbiased (as much as I can give an unbiased account, anyway) answer.

I, (24M), am a system with one headmate, P, (??). (Neither of us are sure how old he is, since it seems to change on the day). I don't want to get into exactly how I got him, but I believe the term for what we are is "traumagenic"? Sorry, again, I'm not really familiar with everything.

Anyway, I've had him since I was 8, and he's been... well, a real pain in the ass, to be frank. I understand now that he's a defender by nature and was trying to protect us, but when you get expelled from middle school for several physical attacks and almost get sent to juvie you start to resent the guy a bit. He's a bit like a sleeping bear, except if the sleeping bear had one eye open and killed you before you could hurt him.

Back when I got out of my abuser's house and went no contact at age 20, I moved in with my current partners, Bonfire (24M) and Greenhouse (25NB) (names changed for privacy, obviously.) At the time I didn't know them, but they were looking for another roommate and I desperately needed somewhere to live.

So I moved in with just the clothes on my back and my wallet (bad move, I know, but I didn't have anything anyway). I didn't care to interact with them all that much, not wanting P to get defensive and attack them for no reason, but they just kept pushing and eventually I relented and hung out with them some.

"Some" turned to "often," and then "often" turned into "sleeping-in-their-bed-and-sharing-our-clothes." At that point I was too far into it and embarrassed to admit I'd been hiding a whole other person from them in my mind. I wasn't sure if they'd even like me after, what with P's history of violence.

...so I never told them. I did my best to forget about anything that ever happened and tried to just enjoy the future I'd always wanted for myself. Bonfire and Greenhouse are lovely people and I was finally, maybe just a little happy. I'd never been a happy person and I was content to bask in it for as long as I was able.

This, of course, backfired immensely. P and I didn't have the best relationship at the time, with both of us wanting to do very extreme things to get away from the other. He wanted to kick me out and be by himself in my body, and I wanted to kill myself to be rid of him. We've since reconciled and made strides in accepting ourself for who we are- it hasn't been easy by any means, but that isn't the point.

I recognize now that he was afraid of being hurt again, not wanting to get out of that survival mindset in case Greenhouse and Bonfire turned out to be super-secret mega abusers taking advantage of our trust, but I also know what he did after was wrong.

He got physical with Bonfire, screaming at him and threatening to kill him if he got any closer. I don't have any memory of this happening, so some details may be incorrect, and I apologize for that. Bonfire, not knowing that P was not, in fact, me, (coupled with the fact that he's a fucking idiot (meant with affection)), he got closer and tried to talk me (him) down. P punched him in the face and broke his nose, after which he ran out of the house and left me to "wake up" a few miles away curled up under a tree.

P left me a note a few days later that said he didn't mean to break his (Bonfire's) nose, but that he was lucky he hadn't done worse. This, in P speak, is probably the most sincere apology I could get at the time.

To try and keep this as short as possible, I'll summarize what happened next. I told Bonfire and Greenhouse about P because at that point the cat was basically out of the bag. They said they'd wished I'd told them sooner, and that they were a little uncomfortable being in the same house as "the lean, mean, stabbing machine" (- Bonfire) but that they were willing to help me manage him if I promised to tell them everything I knew about how he worked.

I did, and it's been years since then, and now P and I are, as stated before, closer than ever. I recently asked my partners whether or not they were still upset with me for not telling them, and they just said that they weren't entitled to my medical history and trauma (which, yeah, but he did break Bonfire's nose) and that they didn't care because, "hey, we basically got a free dog out of it" (- Bonfire), and "we made a promise to love you, including all the less-than-savory parts." (- Greenhouse).

Sweet, yes, but I think I might be TA because, um, P LITERALLY BROKE BONFIRE'S NOSE AND THREATENED TO KILL HIM? AND IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN PREVENTED IF I HAD TOLD THEM?

TL;DR: I didn't tell my partners about my headmate that's prone to violence and he did violence on them and I feel bad.

AITA?

(P says hi, by the way, and he also wants me to tell you that he isn't like this anymore and much prefers soft blankets and eating fruit to breaking his family's noses.)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

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