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#I hate you personally because I have addressed this SO many fucking times
nkogneatho · 4 months
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"𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊"
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𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊
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—cw: lactation kink, mentions of pregnancy, dirty, nasty, depraved stuff, vaginal sex, period oral mention, monsterfucking in kuna's (sukuna's is way too dirty), dry humping, drinking breast milk obv, not proofread (this is too long and i have an event tomorrow)
—a/n: i have officially lost it. is it obvious i have lost it? idk if this is the best or the worst thing you will ever read but this is very depraved and nasty. like...aaaaaaaaaahh okay i am normal. i put my big titties non existent breast milk into this so please read it all and i hope you enjoy.
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
— satoru is the man who is always up for something new. especially, if it involves pleasing you because he's a good husband and that's good what husbands do. he knows how to pull out the naughty parts out of you, but he had to work his way up.
"I am just saying. It helps. Believe me," your husband was arguing with you.
"Cut it out, Toru. I am not letting you suck my boobs."
"But why?"
"Because it's gross and weird." The moment those words left your mouth, he audibly gasped.
"Did you just call our baby's food gross?" You rolled your eyes. He's always like this. It's not like you weren't curious of his reaction when he does taste you, you were just scared that he'd be disgusted. Plus the post pregnancy hormones are worst as they make you emotional over the silliest things.
"Please, baby? Just this one time. I'll be a good boy I promise." You hate when he addresses himself as if he's an angel. He is a mischievous devil inside. But rather than having him pester you for the rest of the night and ruin your hard earned sleep (since your baby's cries always wakes you up) You thought maybe let him and just get it over with...
"mmph ffhuck." His moans vibrated through your skin, "mhmm god ywo twaste shwo good." The moment he said that, all the insecurity left your body, and heat forming between your legs.
"Ngh—toru..." you felt so embarrassed—so dirty when his eyes locked with you. Your lashes fluttered and you looked away but you swore you could feel him smiling on your nipples. Your husband really digs out the emotions you never thought existed within you.
He was pressing them together, playing like he had just found a new toy. You had never seen so much amusement in those blue eyes as much as of now. Bright pink tongue lolling out to taste the squirting liquid when he squeezed both your breasts together.
"Feels good, right baby? ah!" *slurp* He wiped the dripping milk at the end of his lips with his tongue, and you couldn't process. You felt so wet. And he knew you very well. After all, you've been together for so many years.
"Lay down baby. I'll fuck you while I drink you." You never thought you'd ever hear that sentence but there it was.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
— toji has always been an experienced man. he has definitely tried a lot of things. but there's always areas to expand knowledge and new things to learn. he wouldn't do anything that makes you uncomfortable but he knew the person he was marrying wasn't ordinary. you, deep down, were just very dirty like him.
You had your legs stretched on the sofa, upper body resting on your husband's lap. Since you guys had a baby, it was very rare for you rest. Being a parent is the best thing in the world but it also feels worse than a 9to5 sometimes. Today was a good day though. Your boy was sleeping soundly and you had some quality time to spend with each other. Well, it's hard to go on a date at this time, but you both were just happy to be in each other's presence.
Toji was mindlessly flipping through some channels after he got bored halfway through that one movie he was watching. His emerald eyes fell on your ipad screen where you were scrolling through what seemed like a baby product websites.
"I thought we had bought everything for little gumi." You looked up at him then back to the screen.
"Oh this isn't for gumi bear. This is for me. These are called breast shells."
"What? Show me." He took the ipad from you and carefully observed the product you were supposedly buying. "So what is this a fashion accessory for mommies now?"
"Hehehe," you giggled. "No, baby. My breast oversupplies sometimes and it ruins my dress. They prevent that." You watched him as he sat there in silence, poking his tongue inside his mouth. Within two seconds, he flipped you on the sofa, and gently climbed on you.
"Why are you buying that shitty thing when I am right here?"
"Toji, what do y—OH MY GOD!" he pulled out both your breast pretty quickly, all thanks to your maternity clothes. He knew you won't stop him. He knew you would get wet when he'd do that. And he was right on the money. He started sucking so hard, you felt...foreign. He had sucked them a hundred times before but watching him flick your nipples with his tongue and the milk trailing down, fusing with the tastebuds until it goes transparent and his adam's apple bobs when he gulps it. fuck.
Toji's obvious boner grinds against your heat as he suckled on those pretty tits. The wet patch on your panties were now staining his grey bottoms too.
"Overflowing down there too, mama? Hmph," he chuckled. You were to focused on the feeling of his lips on your nipples that you forgot to see his right hand moving down to cup your heat.
"Ngh—twoji," you mewled.
"Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of you." Thick fingers circled your wet clit, "Ya don't need those shells or whateva when i am right here." He is a great husband. He even saved you so much money that you were gonna spend on those silicones.
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
—suguru worships you. it isn't obvious but you can feel his devotion towards you. the way his droopy eyes lights up when they fall on you, or his ears turn red when you kiss him. he loves how you take him in, struggling a little at first because he is girthy and a bit long, but when he bottoms out, you finally exhale and relax your walls around him. holy shit. he loves it. but this time, something different struck his curiosity.
"fuck. you sure we can do this baby?" He asked.
"'s okay, sugu. doc said we had to wait like six weeks and it's been three months." You were so busy in your post pregnancy life that you barely got time for just each other. You hadn't even kissed properly in months. "plus," you reached for his cock, "i need you." Those last words came off as a whine. You needed him and who is he to deny you off your pleasure.
You were on top of him as you positioned his boner to your entrance. He watched as your cunt swallowed him. This time, not struggling as much. Thanks to dilation.
"anh! suguuu~ mhmm missed your cock." You moaned so beautifully, he found himself falling in love over and over again. Yet, something was different. Normally, his eyes would focus down on how you well you take him as you ride it, but today he had found something rather more interesting. Your big tits bumped against his face and he couldn't take his eyes of those nipples. Those glistening nipples. He could see droplets of milk settling and honestly, they looked so fucking tempting. He let his intrusive thoughts win as you felt a warm sensation on your boobs.
"haaa—fuck. sugu, mhmm—no, it's gross" He didn't reply. He didn't need to. Pretending he didn't hear that was just right. Why would you even think anything about you is gross. He would kiss the soil you walked on.
"so fucking sweet. my sweet girl." *sucksucksuck* "these are f'me too, right? these were made f'me. hmm...sweet *suck* fucking *suck* girl.
congratulations. you just unlocked his new kink.
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
—nanami is a gentke lover. we all know that. he is only mean in bed if you ask him too. that alone needs a lot of convincing because he is scared of hurting you. he is not too kinky but you can't say he's completely vanilla. he enjoys wrapping a tie around wrist as be eats you out. he also found himself getting hard when you called him "daddy." So yeah, he is a little kinky. But not in a million years Nanami Kento would've thought he would get hard watching you wipe the excess milk off your breasts.
"So i just put her down to sleep," you walked out of the baby room, with your left tit out, wiping it with a napkin. "What do you want for lunch—Kento?" He immediately broke the staring contest he was having with your boobs and looked at you.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Is everything alright? Is there something on my breasts?"
"Yes—I mean no. of course not." It was rare to hear panic in his voice which only made you mroe curious. You walked closer to him, hsi breath heavier than usual.
"What's wrong, Ken? Talk to me." shit shit shit. you were too close. he could feel your wet boobs rubbing against his cyan blue shirt. If you got any closer, you would loathe him for having a boner for such thing. He was ashamed of himself.
"Why are you looking away, baby? Do you not like me anymore?" Fuck. You're so stupid. Not like you? That man is in love with you so much. He cannot contain himself. You tried to get closer but he tripped on the foot of the couch and felk on it upright, and you on top of him.
oh.
OH.
You could feel it between your legs. You didn't even kiss him and it's not like you were seducing him earlier so you connected the dots pretty quickly on why he was hard.
"hmm hmm" you giggled. "is this what makes you hard you, ken? my lactating tits?"
"don't say it out loud, please." it was so fun seeing him all flustered. you adjusted yourself on top him as you thought of something very dirty.
"wanna taste? i know you're curious." he hesitated a bit, but a man like him can only go so high with his walls before he breaks them and let's his wife take control.
He started off with a few licks, testing his feet into the water. It was sweet with a hint of tanginess. The moment he felt it squirting a lot when he sucked, he fell in love. He acted like a kid who had just discovered magic. You chuckled between your heavy moans as you witnessed him trying to fit in your tits in his mouth as much as he can. You start grinding on him and it only makes him more desperate. He taps your thighs, a cue to pull your dress up and throw it in the floor. You watch as he hungrily latches his lips on your nipples quickly again. Your dress was not even off your arms yet. Nanami had discovered his obsession when he watched you squeeze you tits to squirt your milk on him.
𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
—sukuna didn't even think it was possible for him to have a child as him being a curse and you being a human but here you were. he was in love with you. maybe his expression for love was different than others, but you felt it. be wasn't an embodiment of rage, but rather an overflowing confidence in his skills. That's where the cockiness came from. Existing for over a 1000 years, he thought he had experienced everything. Well...he was wrong.
"So...you just out this device on your chest and it gathers your milk?"
"Yes. It's called a "breast pump" and not a device," his vocabulary according to the new era was still weak but he was working on it.
When you detached the the vaccum of the breast pump from your boobs, Sukuna's eyes were fixated on them. He loved your tits. He had his fair share of biting and sucking on them till they were sore, but today they looked so plumped and so...succulent??
"What are you staring at? You want to drink it too or what?" You joked as you closed the lid of the bottle.
"Yes." You stared at him. Two minutes of complete shock snd silence.
"What?"
"What? You said if I want to drink it, and I answered."
"Yeah but—"
"Be a good wife, my little human. Good wives obey their husband's wishes." (Please let the feminist in you shut up for a sec and enjoy cuz i know he'd say smtg like this)
"Kuna...I don't know. It's nasty, y'know?"
"I think you're forgetting that I am a monster, baby. I ate you out during your those days of the month. This is less dirty." He yaps a lot someone shit him up before I die from embarrassment.
Sukuna laid you on the bed gently after getting you undressed. For the first time in so.many years, you were feeling shy again in front of him. It was quite an amusing sight to enjoy for him. He summoned a mouth on both his palm and licked your nipples. He wasn't sucking yet, but the hint of sweetness still laced his tastebuds.
"I am going to squeeze your breasts in my mouth now, okay?" Why did he feel the need to announce it? Weren't you already so flustered?
The tongues on his palm licked the skin of your tits before squeezing it when his mouth crashed against your nipples, spraying the milk. Sukuna sometimes forget you're a human. You're delicate unlike. The strong force of the suction made you whine and moan so loudly, it vibrated through the walls of the bedroom.
"mhmm I did not know my beloved wife enjoyed such depraved acts," he smirked when his thighs brushed against your bare pussy. you were dripping wet.
"Don't worry, little one. Let me please you. Hope you have pumped out enough in that bottle of yours. Because, I am going to milk you dry today."
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anantaru · 8 months
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i haven’t stopped thinking abt wrio like,,, bodyguard wrio,,, underground fighter wrio,,, hate sex wrio,,, god help me
cw. bodyguard wriothesley, overprotective, possessive & dom, fem! reader
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bodyguard wriothesley who likes to leave you staggering on the edge of a spinning insanity when he intentionally addresses you as "sweetheart", "princess" or "my lady" whenever he follows your orders, and it really doesn't matter to him where the both of you would currently be— if, lets assume, a quick shopping spree around fontaine or something more to his own liking, such as having you pushed down on a bed by your hips, parting your legs with his knee as large hands easily slide and secure around your waist.
bodyguard wriothesley who makes your mouth fall open on a hard, broken gasp when he swiftly traps you in place right under his strong frame, spurring you into immediate action by a dirty comment such as, "you're so sensitive, my lady." was in fact, a deep sort of satisfaction that gets you to ease up and forget yourself for a second, or the obvious fact that you're currently fucking your own personal bodyguard and that it might not be the best out of all your ideas, yet it still feels so fucking fine when he does it.
and archons, does he know what to do to keep you spiraling into euphoric bliss.
bodyguard wriothesley who adores whenever you tumble over your little, pathetic mewls when he pushes his fat tip inside of you for the very first time this night, and he notices how you're tightening up a bit when he adds another inch and spits on your cunt to have you all wet and nice, deep drags penetrating your most delicious spots while you're still loose enough that wriothesley can rub over your pulsating walls splendidly, tasting the soft clench of a warm, sore pussy on his throbbing girth.
bodyguard wriothesley who hooks up a smile at you, pearly whites grabbing your attention, admiring just how unbelievably cute you were— his boss, his princess and he could spend his entire day fucking you just the way you wanted it, with his dripping dick shafting through your pussy, manhandling you while plunging his lips against your tits to attach his hungry mouth to your nipples.
and how good you were, ah what a sight, able to swallow his cock, despite its size, working your sopping insides into the vast shape of his length so you're all marked up for him, because do keep in mind for a second— he was the one protecting you, and he would lie to himself if he'd say he couldn't become a little too possessive every now and then, while watching out that no one would bother you, no guy talk to you and wriothesley loved taking care of your needs, in many more ways than an outside person would assume— whilst all the others who even dared to look your precious, enticing way?
they aren't even half as tall as him, half as strong as him or most importantly, half as good in bed as him— the man was confident that no other was able to make you scream and enjoy yourself just the way he did.
and you were aware of that, sometimes cursing yourself as to why you let it go on for so long and be that unprofessional— but then he's here to quickly make you regret nothing at all— with your mind hanging in the clouds, still blank and the loud blows of gluttonous moans and your sexes bumping against each other, that you'd never ever feel more protected by any other individual, only him, your hands swiftly finding flaming solace in his soft locks when you hide yourself in his warm neck, pressing frenzied smooches around his defined shoulder as wriothesley groans out deep, "fuck— princess!", sensing how you're about to lose yourself to a high.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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Childhood friends AU Idea
Steve and Eddie are best friends who make plans to learn the elvish alphabet from The Hobbit so that they can pass notes without worrying about other people reading them.
The end of the school year (Eddie in 6th, Steve in 5th) brings a sadness to the two. Eddie's going to middle school and Steve's not yet, but they can hang out on weekends, and they have all summer so no worries. (Also, it gives Steve a little more time to learn elvish, since it'll be a whole year until they're in the same school again.)
Except yes worries because two weeks into summer, Eddie vanishes. When Steve bikes to his house to investigate, the whole house is empty. Packed up and gone. Steve goes to Wayne for answer and all he gets is a smile that doesn't really reassure and words of "his dad got a job opportunity, had to move on short notice. But don't worry, kiddo. I'll get you the number to their new place so you can call."
He learns elvish anyway. It's harder without Eddie to help but he's determined. Eddie might return, or maybe he'll get an address one day. Send a letter to Eddie in full Elvish.
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Steve never gets a number or address. Summer ends and sixth grade comes. He doesn't want to forget all the elvish he's learned, just in case. So, he decides to keep a journal. He can write all about everything that's happening and when he sees Eddie, he can give it to him. It's a double win. Eddie will know everything he's missed out on AND it'll help Steve practice elvish.
Sixth grade ends. Eddie doesn't return. Steve did make friends with Carol Perkins though, so he's not as lonely. He hopes Eddie made a new friend, too. But not a new best friend. That's Steve's position, always.
Seventh grade brings Tommy Hagan, but still no Eddie. It brings a growth spurt and sports. Steve likes the easy camaraderie that comes with sports teams. It's like having a lot of friends, which Steve will only admit to needing in his journal. Needing many little connections of friendship to hold together the big hole Eddie left behind.
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The summer between seventh and eighth grade brings him a Bruce Springsteen concert. He'd never thought of a boy kissing another boy until he'd witnessed it on stage but he thinks about it a lot after. The end of that summer brings an awaken he refuses to shy away from even if he has to hide it
Eighth grade brings popularity. Steve's good looking, rich, and liked among his peers. It brings the first (and last) time his dad says he's proud of him.
(Steve will spend the rest of his high school career chasing his father's approval.)
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Freshman year brings Eddie back, but he's different. His hair is longer and his clothes are darker and he's distant. Defiant and angry. Steve would recognize him anywhere, dressed in anyway.
Eddie doesn't want his friendship anymore. Avoids him in the halls and cafeteria, but Steve is nothing if not persistent. He writes a full letter in elvish to slip into Eddie's locker, but Eddie catches him. Shoves the letter back, unopened, unread, with a harsh whispered, "Don't you get it Harrington? I don't want to be your friend. Fuck off."
Steve doesn't understand why. Not until the table top rants start. Conformity and jocks and brain-dead rich kids who get by on favoritism.
It hurts. Steve feels his heart break the day he finally gets the not-so-subtle messages drilled into his mind. Eddie hates sports, and rich people, and stupid people. Eddie hates all the things that Steve is.
Eddie hates him.
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Sophomore year brings Steve a lot of things. It brings the acknowledgment that he was probably in love with Eddie, the way his heart twists the day he sees Eddie flirting with a girl in the hallway, the way he wants the lights out when hooking up with someone so he can imagine a different person pressed against him, the way he gravitates towards brunettes with brown eyes and the flickering hope it might make Eddie jealous. (The way he'd said the wrong name when Brent went down on him, too absorbed in the fantasy of someone else to get it right. Brent hadn't been offended by it, he'd been thinking of someone else, too. Steve finds solidarity for a little bit, until the school year ends and Brent leaves Hawkins.)
Junior year turns Steve's life upside down (pun intended) with monster's coming out of walls. There's probably a lot more he should write about but his journal's pretty empty this year. Too traumatized to document. (Too afraid of what Eddie would say because Steve still writes in his journal like he plans on sending it to Eddie one day. Better to write nothing than sound crazy.)
And halfway through his senior year (don't think about how he's in it with Eddie, about the 4 classes they share, about how Eddie still won't meet his eye) he wants to fade into the background. Nancy and he break up. She's with Jonathan and he hears the whispers of how pathetic he is to be eating lunch with his ex and the guy that 'stole' her. Steve knows that's a lie, Nancy made her choice, and no one can say otherwise, but it hurts to hear. He can't be bothered to try and make new friends. How would he explain the nightmares? The skittishness. The fear of the dark, of pumpkin patches, of his own damn pool now that he's had time to process last year?
Then, the next year brings him Robin. Well. First it brings him an embarrassing uniform and then Russian torture (don't think about it. Don't think about how he'll shorthand the stock list by writing it in Elvish sometimes. Don't think about how the Russian's almost believe they just work for Scoops until they find the stock list in his pocket. Don't think about how they don't believe that the strange script they can't identify isn't proof he's a spy), but in the end he gets Robin. A Platonic Soulmate who understands the hidden side of him. She asked if he was ever in love, and he thinks of the Eddie he used to know, longs to know again, and describes her instead. She rejects him in the softest way possible and then confesses about Tammy, and he confesses about Eddie in turn.
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1986 brings Eddie back into his life in the worst way possible. With a bottle to his neck and them both acting like they've never spoken before. It brings twisting guts as Steve lies awake thinking about Eddie alone in a boathouse instead of sharing a bed with him like they used to in elementary school. It brings Steve leading them to Skull Rock (popularized as a make out spot but started as a set of boys' favorite place to play pirates during the summer). Dustin and Eddie make references Steve pretends to not know, despite his own copies of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings and the numerous amounts of notebooks turned journals with elvish scrawled throughout.
There's a trek through the Upside Down. In another universe, Steve imagines he and Eddie talk. In this one, Robin sticks to his side like an extension of him (which she is), and glares at Eddie every time he looks in Steve's direction. Robin knows everything, knows it all, because there are no secrets between them.
They make plans to stop Vecna, once and for all, and Robin confesses she has a fear. That it won't turn out okay this time, but they have to try anyway. Steve clinks his bottle against hers and looks across the field to Eddie and Dustin. The stakes feel so much higher this time.
"I'm going to talk to Eddie if we survive. Make it right," he says.
"No. He's going to make it right because you didn't do anything wrong," Robin says, which is more support than he thought he'd get given the grudge she holds in his favor.
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Eddie said make him pay and Steve does. Nancy advances, shotgun shot after shot and Steve's bounding down the stairs. Vecna beats him to the ground floor but not by much.
A hatchet's not the best tool to remove a head with but he manages. When he looks up, Nancy and Robin are looking down, both approving.
They find Dustin sobbing over Eddie and- and-
Steve's certain he's broken several of Eddie's ribs but he's breathing again, Nancy finds his pulse beneath all the blood, and Robin's retrieved the cut sheets to make bandages out of. Nothing is clean in this world, infection could kill him later, he might not save Eddie like he wants, but fucking Christ, at least if death claims him, it'll be on the right side of the world in a hospital.
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Dustin, Robin, and Steve are at Eddie's side when Nancy leads Wayne into the room. They knew she went out looking for him (Steve was going to but Nancy had shoved him back in the chair with a look that left no room for argument) but even so they're startled by him.
Wayne has always been stoic and reserved, so it's no surprise to Steve when he just lets out a low whistle and says, "of all the people I might see here, you weren't one of 'em."
Steve swallows thickly and says, "well. I am. Here, I mean."
And Wayne gives him a watery smile and crosses the room. Pulls Steve into a hug that Steve thinks he probably wants to give to Eddie instead, but Eddie's not awake and standing and Steve is. But then Wayne says, "I told Eddie he couldn' chase ya away. That if he just talked to ya, you'd understand. He tried so hard to make ya hate him, and for what? For ya to be at his bedside anyway."
And Steve sobs. Loud and ugly and suddenly Dustin's there, and so are Robin and Nancy, and it's probably the most awkward hug for all the others but it's the best hug Steve's had in years. He doesn't even care that he's crying because how can he? Wayne's all but confirmed that Eddie doesn't hate him, maybe never hated him. That Eddie has an explanation, a reason for it all, and all he wants is Eddie to wake up and tell him.
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Steve finally gets his apology two days after Eddie's release. It's the first time they've been alone together since- well, since elementary school. Wayne drove him here then lied about needing to check on something and said he'd be back in an hour or so before abandoned them to the awkward silence in Steve's living room.
"I'm sorry, Steve!" Eddie blurts out loudly, then looks startled by his own yelling.
"I know. I forgive you."
"You shouldn't."
"I know. Still do anyway. Would like to know what happened, though."
And Eddie tells him. How his father's debts came calling and they ran. How his mom got sick real fast, and his father's crime spree and prison sentence following her passing. How Eddie discovered the same thing about himself that Steve did but didn't have the same acceptance of himself. Hated that another thing marked him as Other. Freak.
He tells Steve how he couldn't let Steve back in because he was afraid of losing him again if he ever learned.
"I didn't think you'd be okay being friends with a faggot," Eddie spits the word out, dirty and mean and directed at himself.
Steve makes a decision then. "Follow me." And he helps Eddie up the stairs and into his room. Eddie sits on the bed and watches as Steve digs out notebook after notebook after notebook, until they're a tower on his bed. Then he topples them over in his search for the first.
Eddie takes the offered notebook with confusion on his face, looking from the cover, where 1978 is written on it. The summer Eddie vanished from Steve's life.
"Open it."
Eddie does and gasps. "Steve. Is this-"
"Every single one of these notebooks was written to you. For you. About you. I read The Hobbit for you. The Lord of the Rings. I learned elvish for you. I think I've been a little bit in love with you since the day we met on the playground on my second day of first grade."
"Steve," it comes out breathless and awed.
"Eddie," Steve repeats back to him, just as breathless as Eddie tosses the notebook aside and reaches for Steve instead. Hauls him in to kiss him senseless amongst the proof of Steve's devotion.
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bluegiragi · 23 days
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I hate to ask this cause it feels stupid but I dont wanna do a bunch of research on whatever the recent cod mw fandom discourse is,
but I saw the reblog of someone accusing you of supporting people who write sexualized pedophilia and that really is personally my only """"moral"""" with nsfw shit, (I'm a patreon subscriber and ig I just wanna know where my money's going) is THAT true?
this is such a never-ending nightmare.
i used to follow an artist who, 5-6 months ago made racist art featuring gaz in a slave context, which I didn't like, retweet or interact with in any way. they also made under-age art of ghost soap, which I also didn't interact with . people on twitter called me out yesterday, for retweeting art they'd made as evidence I stood by/encouraged/was an avid fan of all these tropes. Also, the art I retweeted wasn't either of these previous examples of art, but one where ghost and soap were sleeping in a bed together, as adults, peacefully. I can't emphasise enough that I have not interacted with this artist at all, for literally six months.
genuinely, my only crime is not unfollowing + blocking this artist earlier on, and then daring to retweet a fic tagged with "non-con" (ghost gets soap off in a context where he can't really properly consent, they're in front of a crowd of strangers and they have to fuck, but both parties are into each other) written by a friend as I wanted to support their writing.
and now i have pedophile claims because I accidentally retweeted a fandom bingo post that defended loli-con, and then immediately un-retweeted it when I properly read it.
And people are calling me a zoophile for supporting someone who wrote zoophilic fic and called people slurs (???) and I genuinely don't know who they're talking about there.
And the same people called me racist for making Horangi's eyes in the monster!AU sensitive because they thought I was making fun of Asian eyes. The real reason is because he's a cat hybrid and cats are sensitive to light (and I'm Chinese).
I tried addressing all this in a simpler way earlier on, and responded to an ask talking about my "support" for the artist who drew the slave Gaz art by saying the fanart in question was tone deaf and in poor taste. It wasn't enough for some people, so I'm happy to say it again - yes, it was racist, and the reason why I didn't want to be more aggressive is because I didn't want to extend all this mess by throwing this artist under the bus - I genuinely believed them when they said that wasn't that their intention, and think they should've deleted the post at the time.
And also I'm now called a rapist bc I like to entertain fics with dom/sub dynamics that dip into cnc, as an asexual woman who's personally repulsed by sex when it comes to myself.
That's everything so far. I really don't know what you people want from me anymore. I followed the wrong artist. I retweeted the wrong post. And I've undid those actions now. And for so many people to have taken literally everything spread by these people at face value, without even checking if their claims are true, is incredibly hurtful and isolating.
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mcfuckity · 10 months
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You know what? Im breaking my silence. Im TIRED of people missing Jess’ character on purpose. Like, everyone can use context clues and fill in the blanks for every other character but somehow Jess is the only one taken at face value? Jess is being seen as a cold, detached, mean bitch by fans but I cannot determine whether we even watched the same movie.
Let’s address the elephant in the room, because she is a black woman who is NOT a mammy character, people criticize her harsher. Jess was MORE than Miguel’s “lackey”. She had her own thoughts and opinions. She definitely had her own personality and feelings about the entire situation. She lowkey stalled time to give Gwen chances to fix her mistakes.
If Jess was as cold as Miguel and such a “bitch”, she would’ve left Gwen the first time. Let’s not forget that Miguel was fully about to leave Gwen with her own father holding her at gunpoint, JESS vouched to bring Gwen under her name. Jess put her OWN position at risk to help Gwen and it required that she do her job accordingly. Jess made the boundary VERY clear, she is NOT Gwen’s mother. She is NOT her friend. I seen people argue that “Jess’ maternal instincts” should’ve kicked in to protect Gwen” but fully ignoring that Jess HAS A FAMILY! Jess is PREGNANT with her OWN child. Her instincts DID kick in and she chose her dimension with her family in it!
Jess was stuck in a rock and a hard place. She obviously wanted to help Gwen (considering she brought her in at the cost of her own position) but UNFORTUNATELY, GWEN messed up. Gwen saw Miles and that ultimately led to Spot escaping. You can love these characters and acknowledge that every character had their OWN thoughts and motivations that led to fuck ups. It’s not right to try to make Jess sound worse than the man who fuckin replaced his dead self out of grief, was about to leave a teen at gunpoint, and had an entire society of people chase a teenager who wanted to save his dad.
Don’t get me started on the “she’s fighting crime while pregnant argument” because we can accept superpowered people but NOT the possibility that their bodies are more resilient. NOT TO MENTION THAT PETER B HAS A WHOLE BABY ON MISSIONS???? Like, no one is calling him a bad father so what’s different with Jess? Miguel was mean as fuck to Miles upon meeting but Jess doing her JOB is considered being “mean”.
Then the “I didn’t see her enough to connect with her” is fair until everyone can somehow create entire {TERRIBLE} mischaracterizations of Hobie, Pav, and Peni who (arguably) had just about the same amount of screentime. She also shares traits with every other spider person with being snarky and quick-witted while being completely grounded. She’s literally one of the spider people that Miguel fully trusts but somehow the fandom erases her and goes “He loves Peter B and Lego Spidey🤪🤪”
Like, it’s crazy how people find it so easy to erase Jess and Margo (Spiderbyte) in fanworks for things they easily dismiss from other characters and it’s feelin like misogynoir. Like, Margo and Hobie served the same purpose with deciding to go against Miguel for Miles, yet only Hobie and Gwen gets that credit.
AND THEN THE MANY EXCUSES WHEN IT COMES TO SHIPPING! People keep hating on Jess/Miguel because she’s “obviously pregnant and married” but go right around and ship Miguel with Peter B. Same with Margo/Miles because it’s a bunch of “Miles and Gwen are obviously endgame” ANDDDD???? Since when did every ship HAVE TO be canon in order to be a ship? It’s especially crazy because I BARELY EVER see those comments on Miles/(Peni, Pav, or Hobie) or have no problem with having all the boys huddled around Gwen. The double standard is glaringly obvious.
In conclusion, some of you mfs dont deserve ATSV.
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georgiapeach30513 · 4 months
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With Your Touch, Part 1
Summary: You were supposed to be living a normal life. Perfect boyfriend, just graduated college, and ready to start your new life. Until you met him. Brooding and imposing unless his daughter is around. You knew nothing about babies, but he knew less. Tension builds, feelings flare up, but are they just because he looks extremely sexy when he's soft? Could it be because you are falling for this princess of a baby girl before him? Is it because when he's in town you're too close? The money is good, and yet his attention is better.
Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader
Rating: mild
Warnings:  language, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4.1K
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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Lloyd scowls as he watches the scene in front of him. The crease between his brows is extra deep. He hates working in the field almost as much as he hates watching it. Idiots. He was surrounded by incompetent idiots.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” His fist slams on the table. How many shots have to be fired before they secure their target. “He’s right fucking there! Shoot his ass!”
“Lloyd,” a timid man says behind him, and Lloyd’s eyes never leave the monitors. “Mr. Hansen?”
“I don’t want to do this myself, but I fucking will! Levinson, get ready to go!” More rounds of bullets, and still the target was missed. “What the fuck is this?”
“Lloyd!”
His body goes rigid as he turns to look at the small man who is shivering. Eyes downcast to the floor so he doesn’t look at the towering man. “Why the hell are you addressing me?”
“We have a problem.”
“No, shit, Sherlock. I have two teams of mercenaries after one target, and he’s not been shot. What the fuck else could be wrong?” He leans over a bit looking at the man. “Well?”
“Who the hell brought a baby?” Ari asks, staring down at a pitiful little carrier. An envelope beside the small bundle, and her bright green eyes stare up at the large man. “This isn’t bring your daughter to work day,” her face cracks a moment as she searches his face. Lips puckering out before a scream radiates through the makeshift office. “Make it stop!”
“Where the fuck did a baby come from?” Lloyd snaps a finger at another man to take over the original issue at hand. He just needs the target killed, and he can go home for a bit. “What is this?”
Ari’s hands slap on the side of his head covering his ears, but his foot tilts the carrier to rock it a bit, but still she wails. Seeing how no one attempts to help out, or get the baby to stop, Lloyd assumes this is something he’s going to have to take care of. What else was new? Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he leans down to grab up the letter. Crumpling it up before looking down at the baby. “Mother fucker.”
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Your fingers run over the empty shelves in your dorm room. Graduation has finally happened, and now it is time to leave your mark on the world. Your father didn’t bother to show up for your graduation because why would he? He never showed up personally in your life. Not really. He always made sure that everything was paid for though. It could be worse, right?
You try not to complain about your father, or your family. You had more than most and should be grateful. But then some people had attention. Sighing, you grab up your bag, and look towards the door.
“Chase,” whispering, you walk over to him, and lay your head on his chest. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I don’t know why you feel so attached to this dorm room, honey.”
“Because it was my home,” you’re sure he didn’t fully understand, which was okay, you never bothered to explain. You kept your family dynamics quiet. He never asked why you were so quick to visit with his family for the holiday, just enjoyed you being there.
His warm arms wrap around you, and he holds you in a tight embrace. He wasn’t quite comfort, but he is sweet. He means well, and did what he could for the information that you provided to him. But this dorm room was the closet you had to a home. You had good memories here. Friends that were more like family, and now it’s gone.
You groan when the stupid sound of your absent father’s ringtone sounds off. Maybe he is actually calling to congratulate you for wasting his money on a degree that he deemed pointless. He. It probably wouldn’t matter what you did, it’d never be good enough for him.
“You gonna get that?”
“Do I have to?” You complain looking up at Chase. His mouth lifts to the side, and he nods his head. He is right. You should talk to him and quit hiding. You didn’t know what he was going to say or do. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”
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“So the kid is yours?” Ari looks down at the car seat, watching the little baby cry, no one attempting to soothe or comfort her. Lloyd squats down and rubs his thumb over her cheek, and she struggles to breathe from her tears. “Are you going to hold it?”
“Can you stop referring to my daughter like she’s a thing?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Ari answers sarcastically. “Then pick her up. What is her name?”
“Clara told me to name her. She didn’t bother naming her. What…what do I do?” He looks up at his friend, showing the tiniest bit of emotion. “I don’t know anything about babies.”
“Start by holding her.”
“You hold her,” Lloyd is a lot of things but nurturing is far from one of them. He was a man that didn’t make mistakes, but clearly, he messed up somewhere. Of all the women he had been with only one was he stupid enough to knock up. But the way Lloyd is staring at her would suggest he almost wanted a baby.
“This is so fuck…this is so stupid. Clean up your mouth. She isn’t old enough to talk yet, but she will be,” Ari gets down to his knees, starting to remove the straps over her body. “She’s a pitiful little thing. Shh, girlie, you’re scaring your daddy before he’s properly got to look at you. There ya go,” he coos, holding the tiny girl up against his chest. Her cries soften a bit. He wonders when the last time she felt loved, because her body moves around feeling more of him.
“What’s wrong with her?” Both Ari and Lloyd’s noes turn up in disgust as they smell her. “She’s not been bathed?”
“That’s poop, Lloyd. We can’t have a baby here,” that is something Ari is certain of. Not only was this not a place for babies, he didn’t want to have to smell the baby smells.
“I didn’t ask for the baby. She was dropped on the mother fucking steps. Clara. I’ll kill that dumb trollop. Never trust desperate women. She doesn’t want money. She just didn’t want the baby. And I need her to have a name, so I’m not just calling her the baby. Ari, name her.”
“I’m not naming your spawn. She’s born of you, you name her. And my god, you gotta change this diaper, and figure out what you’re going to do in order for us to not have to deal with a baby like this. What the hell do you want?”
Lloyd turns to look at one of the analysts standing in the doorway. His thick rimmed glasses, and quiet demeanor made him one of Lloyd’s favorites. He was trustworthy, and smart. Quick. One of the few people Lloyd didn’t want to strangle. “Roman, what do you need? We’re dealing with someone.”
“You need an au pair.”
“What the hell is that?”
“It…it’s someone that will live in your home, and care for the child. They could teach them another language, and…”
“Sounds like a wife. Do I get to fuck them? Does she talk back to me?” Roman shakes his head no, wanting to say more, but doesn’t want to risk his job. He had the perfect person to help Lloyd with his little problem. “Where does one find an au pair?”
“I know someone that just recently graduated, and she speaks French. She has a degree in art history, and…”
“I need her at my house immediately,” Roman acts as if he’s about to say something until Lloyd cocks up a brow, “I will pay her handsomely.”
“You’re keeping the baby?” Ari’s answer comes in the form of Lloyd reaching towards the baby. Turning up his nose at the stench, but he holds her gently. Tenderly. He gives her a quick peck on her head. “He’s keeping the baby. Roman, call whoever. Sounds like the amount of money is not an issue.”
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Staring up at the posh apartment buildings, and squeezing Chase’s hand, you wonder how you even got here. Your father didn’t do anything but give you money. You didn’t even know him. Didn’t know what he even did to make the money. And now you are taking orders from him. Allowed him to make you feel like shit for your education.
“You don’t have to listen to him,” Chase says calmly. Slipping his hand out of yours, he turns to look directly at you. “You’re a grown woman, you don’t have to listen to what daddy says.”
“Don’t call him that,” your father didn’t earn that name. That’s exactly what you called him, father. “I mean look at it, there could be worse places to live.”
“Yeah, and you’re caring for a child that isn’t yours. And where’s her parents? How often will you have this child?”
“I’m going to live with them.”
“That’s another thing, I don’t exactly like the idea that you live with them. Who are them?”
“It’s a need to know basis,” you mumble. Finally finding your footing you take a step forward. It was now or never and it seemed like it was going to be now. What did you actually have to lose? This was a guaranteed job. It’s not like you had to stay. The pay was great. And how hard could one baby be?
You were going into this job with a house, great pay, and it seemed somewhat cushy. “You’re just going to be giving another child a life without their parents.”
“And just think where I would have been without my nanny,” you spit out, feeling a bit more protective of a child that you haven't met. It wasn’t her fault anymore than it was yours. Children should be loved and taken care of, and that’s what you are going to do.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know you didn’t. You don’t have to go with me if you don’t approve,” sighing, Chase follows you as you walk into the building. Following the exact instructions you were given from your father. You didn’t know what you were walking into. It was just a job after all.
Neither you or Chase say another thing. He definitely could feel your irritation at the need to insert what he thought he knew about your life. Your life wasn’t horrible. You just didn’t have your parents. Especially not your father. He had a business. And whatever he did afforded you a charmed life.
Seems like this child was getting the same treatment. And if you could give her the life that your amazing nanny gave you, then you feel like you’re giving it back. You didn’t see yourself as a teacher, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And it was just one small baby. Eventually she would be going to school, and that’s if you even stayed that long.
Attention was everything when it came to children. If you said no, and this was apparently an emergency, what would happen to this child? Every child deserves a good life.
You don’t fully bother knocking on the door. Just punch in the code to the apartment, and Chase tugs at your arm. He isn’t as comfortable with this as you are. Your father gave you the code, Lloyd didn’t want you to knock, he wants you to make yourself comfortable. Your eyes go wide as you look around.
You could see the house at one point was pristine, but now it’s chaotic. Empty boxes are everywhere, but all of them seem to be items for the child. Your father told you she was a baby, but not how new she was. Tiptoeing deeper into the apartment, Chase pulls you back into him.
“Announce yourself. This is weird.”
“Mr. Hansen?” The sweetest little baby gurgle comes from the next room, and you look up at Chase. “That’s a real baby, handsome. Can I go meet my employer now?”
“I’m right here. Scream if you need me.”
“Mr. Hansen?” You ask again, looking into the first room. It is an even bigger disaster. Stuff was everywhere. The room has so much potential, but why does everything seem new? “Mr. Hansen, do you need help?”
He needs a lot of help. Could barely tend to his own child. His movements seem very rigid and unsure of himself. “Yeah, I think she peed. She has on the diapers that change color when wet, but…I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I babysat a few times,” it’s a bit of a stretch. They weren’t babies. But you’ve seen some movies. Read some things, “Let me see. Hey there, cutie,” she looks like she could break hearts. She is angelic. Chubby little legs, and the biggest dimples in her cheeks. Completely toothless with the prettiest bright green eyes and long lashes. “I think you’ve overwhelmed your daddy. Did you recently just get custody?”
There had to be a reason for this mess. But he went and spent a ton of money trying to give his daughter everything she needed and could ever want. “I just recently found out about her,” that took an unexpected turn. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have the time to really devote to her, but I don’t want her to do without, and…I’m in over my head.”
So he was a bit like your father. But he seems to currently be more hands on than your father was. It was cute, in a completely not weird way at all. Lloyd was older than you. A full grown man while you had only just graduated college. “I’m not an interior designer, but I know some. The apartment is a mess, I’m aware. Lyla needs so much, and this place was just here. I never took the time to do anything. So me and my partner ordered everything we could think of. I don’t think she needs everything we got, but she could. She has her bed, and her diapers, and there’s a box of formula and food in the kitchen. Her food should be there, right? I don’t think she plays with toys yet, but there’s some somewhere.”
“Is this a Dior stroller?”
“I was told it was a pram,” you stare at him, trying not to giggle. The fact that it was Dior was the more silly part. “I can’t do what I do and have her there it’s dangerous.”
“What do you do?”
“Don’t ask,” the look he gives you makes you take a step back, gawking up at him when you realize his size. He is tall. Arms that are thick and hard as steel. His shoulders are wider than your entire body, “Lyla will be provided for, and because of that so will you. Whatever you need. I’ll leave a card for you. I won’t be able to personally get all your…well, all your needs. So this seems like the best option.”
“My needs? Like food?”
“Uh, I know that you women have things you need,” he’s an idiot. “I’ll give you a check, so this looks legit, but I can provide all your special woman needs,” huge idiot.
“Yeah, I can get my ‘womanly needs’ with my paycheck. Do…how often are you going to be here if I’m living here?”
He puffs out a bit of air, and he fully gives you attention. His daughter now has a changed diaper, and he cradles her sweetly. Some stupid expensive silver teething toy in her mouth, and his eyes roam over your entire body. He’s a bit too handsome to be a father, and one that just so happened to be your employer. His eyes are too blue, and his arms look too thick, and you gulp, clenching your thighs together. What the fuck was this witchcraft?
“Every night if possible. I typically work remotely, but sometimes I do have to go out of the country, and that leads to a few days to a week without me coming home to you and Lyla,” is he smirking? You shouldn’t feel so small and taken aback, but your stomach erupts with annoying butterflies with how hard he’s staring at you.
“Would you like to see your room? It’s next to the baby’s. My bedroom is in the front of the apartment, just off the living room. So I’ll be the first to the door. Absolutely no one in this apartment. I don’t trust people. Especially not around my child, and I guess now you come into my protection. If you need to know the apartment is in another name. I have a tendency to create a lot of enemies, and I try to keep things here as safe as possible.”
Lloyd freezes when he hears Chase sneeze. Handing you the baby, he covers you and her with his body in such a quick motion it takes your breath away. Your loss of breathing had nothing to do with his weight digging into your skin, and you surely don’t let out an odd sound that has him giving you a quick wink.
“That would be my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend? Roman didn’t say anything about a boyfriend.”
“Roman doesn’t even know when my birthday is. Do you have a problem with Chase being here?”
“What kind of name is Chase?” With your free hand, you shove him off you. You didn’t need him that close to you. “Honestly, what kind of name is that? And I said nobody visits.”
“You just told me that. He traveled here with me because he didn’t trust that I was coming to some apartment with some weird man that lured me here under false pretense just so he could murder me.”
“I don’t lure women here. This is a safe space for my daughter. I need you to make him leave,” Lloyd didn’t need to lure women. When he wanted a woman he could have one. And wanting a woman led to him becoming a father.
“But I don’t want to be here alone with a baby that can’t talk,” his eyes narrow at you. It is like you and Lloyd are playing a tit for tat game. Going back and forth of why Chase shouldn’t be here, and why you need him here. “He has a job. He works at an IT firm. Would you really want me here alone and by myself? What if someone comes here to attack me? Then Lyla is left all alone.”
“I’ve taken precautions that this would never happen. When you’re on the clock, Lyla is your only priority,” that made you feel slightly uneasy. You had to make a note to check the neighbors. Getting a feeling that someone was tasked with watching and listening to you and Lyla.
“When am I off the clock?”
“When I am here. Unless,” he gives you that eat shit grin again, shaking his head. Is he actually flirting with you, “I shouldn’t say that, sunshine. So what should Lyla call you? Nanny seems a bit too old and mature for someone sweet like you.”
“Why not my name?” He contemplates that for a moment, looking down at his little baby who stares up at you. If babies could talk, you wonder what she is thinking of.
“Dolly.”
“What?”
“I want her to call you, Dolly. Her Dolly. Ooh, yes, I like that. Let’s see what I should do about this boyfriend,” spinning on his heels Lloyd walks down the hallway, stopping the moment he sees Chase. Your boyfriend stands up immediately, holding out his hand for Lloyd to shake.
“I don’t like you.”
“I’m sorry?” Chase looks towards you holding the baby, and takes a quick gulp. Lloyd’s eyes go between the two of you before sidestepping in front of you. His wide body blocking Chase from looking in your direction. “What is this?”
“Chase, let's get something straight, when I’m not here, Dolly is on the clock.”
“Her name isn’t Dolly.”
“When I’m here, I’ll allow her to come and go as she pleases, but just like Miss Dolly, I need to get a background check on you. I don’t want just anybody to have access to my daughter, and her au pair. And absolutely under no circumstance will you be sleeping under my roof. This is my home, and my daughter’s, and I don’t need stupid boys coming in here and tainting that,” he turns to look at you. Giving you no time at all to process exactly what he is saying. He couldn’t be serious.
“Remember, I own your father. I also own you. I’m offering you money that you can’t refuse because he just cut you off, and you’re used to a certain lifestyle. I’m providing that for you. And I don’t want limp dicks in my home. Have I made myself clear?”
“You can’t do that.”
“I can do whatever I want, Dolly. I’m Lloyd fucking Hansen. If I want to cut every single finger off your father’s hands, I will. You can either have me as your employer or your enemy. And if you walk out that door with that boy, you will be my enemy. I’m not saying you can’t date him, I’m saying I don’t want him in my house or around my daughter. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes,” his head tilts forward, and his piercing blue eyes give you a look. A look you can’t exactly explain, but it makes you feel things. Makes you ready to do whatever it is he told you to do. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. Get rid of the boyfriend.”
“But you’re here.”
“And so are you. There’s no need for him to linger around, while you move in. This is just an introduction, sweetheart. I need to walk you through all the boring stuff about your job. I’ll pay you extra if you get Lyla’s bedroom situated. This place is a complete disaster, and I can’t stand it. Get rid of him,” reaching towards Lyla, he walks back down the hallway to her room, and you give Chase an awkward smile.
“Come on, he can find someone else to be the au pair.”
“I need to see this through, Chase,” he tries interrupting you. Like he usually does, but you shake your head. You did need this job. None of the other places you applied at have called you back. “I need this job. It won’t be forever. And once I get settled in, and have my first day off, I’ll spend it with you.”
“You’re really going to let him talk to you like you’re his property?”
“No, I’m not. But I see myself in that little baby, and she needs me. He doesn’t know what to do.”
“Do you?” Nope. You had no idea about babies. You didn’t even have siblings. But your bags that were in Chase’s cars had a few books with some ideas on what to do. You’d figure it out along the way. Plus, you had this odd desire to understand your dad’s job, and also what exactly Lloyd did. How did a man that instilled so much fear in you also have a soft spot for his daughter?
“You’ll call if you want to leave? No questions asked, I’ll come and get you?”
“No questions asked,” you promise, kissing his lips softly. His hands cup your ass, and Lloyd glares at him down the hallway. How did Roman allow you to grow up and be disrespected in a stranger’s home? You allowed him to kiss down your neck, and neither of you even knew he was watching.
Lloyd would never let Lyla be treated like that. He wished he could make her not get any bigger. He liked the idea of having a woman in his home. Even if it wasn’t the way that a traditional family had it, who knew what the future held. You wanted to please him. Even told Chase it was time for him to leave. He still had it.
Chase pulls off your neck, and notices Lloyd watching you. His hands slip into your back pockets, and he gives your ass a bit of a squeeze, “Who’s girl are you?”
“I’m yours, Chase. Now go on, I’ll call you later,” his eyes flick over to Lloyd, who ventures into Lyla’s room. Going to lay her down for her nap as he tries to think of ways to get rid of Chase. He is an asshole. A cocky one at that. Unfortunately he reminded Lloyd of himself. And there is only enough room in your life for one asshole.
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More creepypasta headcannons!
+the women this time! Also these aren’t sexual, but there will be references to drinking, drugs and sex
And in most of these I am ignoring what is actually cannon so I’m sorry, I just like thinking more on the wholesome side of this fandom.
Also, I understand that Sally is like not at all like her OG story, but this is how I like to interpret her so please don’t hate!
Jeff the killer
Age: 22
Wine Problems: got citric acid rubbed into his healing mouth scar by EJ and Ben. (He splattered paint all over Ben’s gaming system Bc he wouldn’t give him free weed. EJ joined because of the “Tear-alliance”)
Head-cannons
“erm actually ☝🏻”
-He buys a lot of flip phones to prank the pastas. Specifically Ben, Jane and Hoodie. Tbh kind of a big bully. Also definitely steals slenders money.
-Lactose intolerant
-eats hot Cheetos like an mf
-he’s oddly spiritual??? But in a scared way, he thinks the gods are coming for him just cause 🤷🏻‍♂️
-he thinks he’s slick whenever he steals Slenders money, but slender knows.
-one time for a TikTok, he tried getting one of the pastas to do the candy man dance with him but no one wanted to join him except for Hoodie Bc he felt bad 😭
-every normal person thinks his TikTok is a devoted cosplayer, but he’s not.
-he’s actually really depressed about Liu, but he never rlly addressed it with himself. He just ignores it and him Bc he doesn’t know how to react.
Jane the Killer
Age: 23
Wine Problems: Sally accidentally got shoved by Jeff during a quarrel and now she has to get Sally to stop crying before Slender comes back from meeting his brothers.
Head-cannons
-makes so many funny faces to herself and actively talks to herself in front of people (and mid convo too)
-you will catch her pacing down the main hallway with headphones in when she’s angry.
-AWFUL BAKER idk HOW she just can’t bake. It always burns.
-her natural hair is shoulder length, black and curly.
-Her wife is a normal person (granted immunity from slender), her name is Lillian.
-Toby was the ring bearer for the wedding, Sally and Lazari (when she was young) were the flower girls. Lillian’s brother walked her down the isle, Toby walked Jane down the isle afterwards. Jeff at the reception gave a surprisingly good speech about Jane and their marriage… but then he got destructive drunk and had to be carried out Frank Gallagher style.
-she has a separate house and identity that she uses away from the mansion to be normal with her life and be the adult she couldn’t be.
-she’s never rlly at her other house tho.
-she loves having deep scientific talks with people to see their ideas and to read them better.
-she’s a really good person to talk to about passion projects Bc she’ll engage in your thoughts and use her knowledge to help you with whatever your stuck on or thinking of. She also hypes too.
-her and Kate are like the main watchers/caretakers of new pastas to make them feel comfortable.
-she is actively the only pasta who has seen Slenders human form.
Ben drowned
Age: 19
Wine Problems: Jeff and sally creating a doll out of Ben’s hair. The hair from his shower drain. Then them harassing him with it, trapping him in the livingroom TV.
Head-cannons
-The house dealer
-Everyone is trying to get all up in his business
-it takes him 20 minutes every morning doing his hair and skin routine.
-his favorite video game is RDR2
-chronic Jacksepticeye fanboy. Has attempted to see him on tour awhile back ago.
-his room is clean, but so weird. Like he has Minecraft posters and odd shit like that. He also has those LED lights on his walls and a really fucking expensive gaming setup.
-does not punch his walls.
-he has a pet tarantula named Bea.
-he chronically enjoys Pepsi. It’s kind of gross. Also he is HUGE on snacks, like he has a mini fridge.
-also to be allowed in his room you have to cashapp him 5$ if you’re in their for longer than 15 minutes for “wasting his time”
-he listens to a lot of French music and video game soundtrack to fall asleep.
-he LOVES Skyrim.
-he knows a lot abt tech since he’s a video game ghost/glitch, but it’s not his only personality.
Clockwork
Age: 20
Wine problems: recently started hearing voices after accidentally eating one of the special brownies in the kitchen. She’s in the corner in the living room having a bad trip. Lazari is behind her comforting her. (Clockwork currently doesn’t think she’s real)
Head-cannons
-asexual and aerosexual. They just are rarely attracted to people.
-LOVES low-rise jeans
-she’s like hella sarcastic and definitely has disorders (undiagnosed)
-for the most part she’s pretty quiet, speaks more with her hands than her mouth.
-tall af, like 5’11.
-whenever she gets a migraine you might as well shoot her since she has the clock in her eye 😭
-her favorite movie series is SAW. She has actively built some of the prototypes like the reverse bear trap.
-she collects animal teeth and bones.
-her room gives very much teenage dirtbag.
-after awhile she starts hating people she hangs around Bc she’s bad at setting boundaries. That’s one of the reasons she broke up with Toby.
-very passionate about politics and her assignments.
-she has a cat named Bubble, she’s a Siamese cat and she surprisingly cuddly. Bubble hates everyone but clockwork and sometimes she sits on Clockworks shoulder.
Ticci Toby
Age: 22
Wine problems: he was out getting groceries for the pastas and then a group of 13 yr olds started harassing him (he bought one of those lobsters in the water) until he went to his car.
Head-cannons
-buys the house groceries once a week.
-genuinely careless. Like he is so straight faced tbh. Unless you’re really funny and he’s seriously caught of guard.
-eats so much chocolate it’s insane. LOVES hot chocolate.
-his stutter does get better, but it’s still pretty present.
-he does not like Jeff. At all.
-sometimes he can be such an accidental dickhead. He does not know timing like at all.
-you will see him awake at 5AM eating salad.
-he love’s Hollywood undead almost an unreasonable amount. Borderline stalkery.
-excellent organizer and party planner, typically helps Kate with designing shit.
-he doesn’t really know how to feel about the pastas, he just rlly like Jane though. She reminds him of everything he’s lost.
-he loves to draw birds and birdwatching.
-he only kills his assignments.
Judge Angels
Age: 25
Wine problems: she spilled a glass of milk on smile dog and is currently hiding in her room until he goes away. Also got caught gatekeeping by Lazari.
Head-cannons
-can’t handle certain writing styles. Like she hates commas and all capitalized letters. They just grind her gears.
-her favorite food is mangos.
-tbh shopping addict. She’s always buying small trinkets and organizing boxes. On her way to becoming a horder. (Not really but kinda)
-probably one of the funniest pastas (if you unlock her first)
-sometimes she’ll randomly turn to a southern accent but she doesn’t realize it.
-easily cringable. She’s either giggling, lost or just staring. It’s kind of funny tho.
-She’s so bad at scheduling. She makes plans on plans and forgets other plans and it’s highly irritating. Almost every pasta gets annoyed at her for this.
-she makes a mean French toast.
-her closet consists of the same outfits repeated and she lacks confidence. She doesn’t gain much until she became friends with the girls of the mansion and they started introducing her to different feminine/masculine styles. She now comfortably represents androgynously.
-she has dimple piercings.
Puppeteer
Age: unknown
Wine Problems: the clown-posse (LJ, Jason and Candypop) are all on his ass because the past week all of them have seen him steal something of theirs at least once. LJ lost 5 items, Jason lost 2 and Candypop lost 3.
Head-cannons
-mischievous fucker.
- ‘swiper no swiping’ my ass.
-he’s seen the entirety of paw patrol and kind of loves the show?? It’s just so stupid, he loves making fun of it.
-has literally 0 sympathy and will laugh at your misfortune to your face.
-he can eat anything spicy without feeling it. Sour candy tho? You might as well shoot him.
-can’t handle his alcohol.
-calls the mansion his trap house.
-has a bit where he calls the pastas his whores since him and slender have similar powers.
-He’s not that much of a dick though, he won’t attempt to control someone unless they sign a contract.
-hates looking into mirrors, they make him depressed.
-has phases of sleeping 24/7 and staying up for days on end.
-don’t bother him when he’s snug as a bug in a rug, he will kill you if you interrupt him.
-he LOVES a good soft blanket. No matter where you will catch him with a cute blankie, as long as it’s soft. His favorite blanket is from Liu during their secret Santa Christmas celebration. It’s a navy blue blanket with white tiny flecks representing stars.
-sometimes he thinks really deep and looks at the sky at night, but he doesn’t understand much since he’s the personification of self-deletion. He has trouble understanding emotion and how he feels sometimes so he lashes out.
-sometimes he takes it bad when he thinks about how the pastas think he’s an asshole bc he wants to be seen as more than that but he never really shows that.
-British 😏
Nurse Ann
Age: 25
Wine problems: she woke up with both of her legs missing, someone (she doesn’t know who), stole her needle and thread. She can’t attach her legs until then, so far she’s been in her wheelchair. No luck.
Head-cannons
-her eyes are completely black.
-her favorite hobby is cleaning and sewing. Both of them just calm her down whenever she’s feeling jittery or anxious. For Christmas she sees a bunch of sweaters for the pastas.
-when she was 13 she worked at a local restaurant as a waitress.
-her legs come off if her stitches come undone. Sometimes the Pastas will purposely cut the thread as a joke. (It’s all in good fun tho, shes okay with it).
-plus sized
-can speak Spanish and French! She was one of those hella smart girls in class.
-she plays a lot of LoveNikki.
-she was a theater kid in highschool. Her school did sweeny Todd and she played Mrs Lovett.
-her and eyeless Jack are geniuses of the mansion. Ppl tried setting them up, but neither of them felt the vibe. They’re good acquaintances tho.
-Slender doesn’t send her out on much assignments since she’s normally so busy with the pastas injuries. The only reason why EJ goes out as much as he does is to get food— that he insists he can do by himself.
Bloody Painter
Age: 24
Wine problems: fell asleep while painting. His clothes is ruined and so is his painting. In his hella sassy feels rn. Totally sulking. Abt to drown himself in the shower.
Head-cannons
-snarky bitch.
-he LOVES white chocolate macadamia cookies.
-“wtf”
-he can’t HANDLE it whenever someone is watching what he’s doing or questioning his method of doing things. It makes a certain spring in his head snap.
-I’m ngl I think he’s always super tired. Probably cause he’s besties with puppeteer. Like this man is eepy, he’s a cute sleeper tho.
-he’s silent but scary. You will NEVER hear him coming. He could be behind you waiting and you genuinely would not notice until you’re dead.
-I feel like he spends a lot of time in his room painting, but whenever he gets an art block he might as well cry. He genuinely doesn’t know what to do when he can’t paint. His three options are; crying, reading or eating.
-Jeff is always joking around with him, but he doesn’t really play along with it… even tho he tries to get closer to a lot of the pastas. Jeff just isn’t one he’s interested being nice too.
-he watched miraculous ladybug once and almost cried.
Rouge
Age: 25
Wine problems: she accidentally ripped her pants and not in the cute way. Also her worn down converse she’s had since she was 15 finally wore out and broke down.
Head-cannons
-she’s not that messy, but for the aesthetic she can be. She’s not afraid of getting dirty.
-she has a dream journal that she writes in every morning Bc it helps her lucid dream. She only likes lucid dreaming Bc she feels in control, though this has accidentally lead to sleep paralysis.
-she’s super sensitive to the cold.
-she’s really good friends with clockwork.
-she’s honestly a creative genius. She loves literature and art and performance. Though sometimes she gets completely lost in her work.
-constantly in a state of escapism.
-she kind of reminds me of Charlie from Perks of Being a Wallflower. That’s probably her favorite movie too.
-she loves hanging around the girls of the mansion, they make her feel at home. Like she’s sm more comfortable around them than others. Sometimes when a new pasta arrives and they throw an honoring ceremony, the girl pastas will all get ready together in Slenders room! (His room is the biggest and he’s cooking all the food with the boys)
Masky
Age: 25
Wine problems: ran out of storage on his phone, now he has to delete the many photos and videos of him pranking Toby in his sleep.
Head-cannons
-he’s not as much as a dickhead as he seems, like he’s actually pretty chill and he has simple boundaries.
-he’s more of a loner if anything, the one person he like actually talks to tho is Toby and hoodie. Hoodie as an acquaintance and Toby as a little brother.
-sometimes he can get a little crazy, but that’s expected.
-he’s the easiest pasta to scare, this mf is JUMPY.
-he is a chronic shitposter.
-he loves self care tho. Like he’s always showering or getting shower stuff. He has like a collection of shower stuff.
-he used to have his ears pierced as a rebellion against his parents as a teen, but they closed. Sometimes he wishes he could get them repeirced.
-he’s like the type of guy who takes bubble baths a lot Bc he’s stressed all the time. Like he’s ALWAYS irritated abt something.
-you know he’d run a Walmart deli like his bitch.
-regardless, he takes his job too seriously and sometimes slender gets a lil concerned abt him Bc he literally gets crazy sometimes.
-rated T for ‘Too hard to work with’
Laughing Jill
Age: unknown
Wine problems: choked on a piece of hair and the next person that talks to her is getting the belt. Also couldn’t answer a simple math equation in a debate with hoodie so now everyone is calling her a bimbo.
Head-cannons
-she makes SO MANY TIKTOK VIDEOS, almost TikTok famous (she doesn’t show her or anyone’s face on cam)
-almost started a mukbang account.
-her and Jack came from the same Angel hence their name and design.
-she cried when watching the fnaf movie.
-she wears some odd earrings and she actually adds some color in her wardrobe too, unlike Jack.
-she is really into evanescence.
-has an aggressive southern accent (like Millie from Helluva Boss)
-southern lass girlboss sass idk
-she absolutely HATES water, like swimming is her biggest nightmare. She hates the ocean and ocean animals. They just creep her out.
-she’s not really close with anyone but she yaps sm. The one who tolerate it the most is probably Kate, Ben and Bloody painter.
-she’s been in a mosh pit a couple times and the first time someone threw a PB&J sandwich on her. She almost cried.
Hoodie
Age: 26
Wine problems: trying to keep control of the house. Put away the brownies, constantly cleaning. Is forced to give up once Jeff throws ice cream at the ceiling.
Head-cannons
-no matter where, he only wears converse.
-tbh think he watches some anime.
-I feel like if he ever was rapping he’d be really good at it.
-with assignments he’s one of the most efficient out of the mansion, some people don’t like him cause of it.
-he stays out of most peoples way, sometimes he’ll help Nurse Ann clean tho. He probably reads often with Sally too.
-he’s a loyal confidant to all no matter what and he’s relatively judgment free.
-he has an aggressive model walk, might as well call him Adriana Lima.
-him and Toby are like the only pastas with bad facial hair and sometimes in the morning they shave together 😭
-he cringes so hard knowing that there’s a whole fandom that he’s one of the stars in, like he thinks it’s a bit odd.
-ever since toby got high and went anonymous online, creating a fandom revolving around their house and friends. Things have been a bit wary between the two.
Sally
Age: physically 8, mentally 215
Wine problems: got accidentally shoved by Jeff (sobbing). Missing slender, also is tired of the bull going on in the house. Mf is abt to yell.
Head-cannons
-she totally gets annoyed at the pastas Bc they all treat her like she’s her physical age. Like I feel like this is something that genuinely pisses her off.
-even tho she is 215, she’s very childish, like she loves Disney and animated movies.
-She doesn’t really play with dolls but she has a collection of them in her room.
-She sometimes goes to school for fun to lurk out other possible pastas with bad home lives. (They wouldn’t get assignments until theyre 18 at least)
-she’s very easily disgusted by visuals or concepts. She can’t watch Wallace and grament without wanting to die.
-she was the one that started the idea of sending assignments for the pastas, Slender agreed Bc she’s basically the daughter he always wanted. (She’s also the one who suggested they make it like a business scheme to attract those meant to be apart of the pastas so they don’t have to scout ppl out.)
-she is very strong politically and she is very open with what she has to say.
-very creative and smart, she reads often on multiple different subjects. She can speak Russian, ASL, French, Spanish and she knows Morse code. She’s trying to learn piano or violin too. She’s essentially a prodigy.
-she’s teaching some of the other pastas different languages, specifically Kate and Rouge who want to learn Morse code.
-specific requests with assignments are ran By Sally before she goes to slender with them.
Laughing Jack
Age: unknown
Wine problems: losing his final straw with puppeteer. Is about to pour hot sauce in his eyes. Eagerly awaiting dinner and sleep. Genuinely one of the only times in his life he’s ever been exhausted.
Head-cannons
-he cries after sex, no matter what.
-he thinks EJ shouldn’t be called Jack when he came first as the first Jack, but everyone calls him LJ.
-very British.
-he compliments Bloody Painters art whenever he sees it.
-Jeff is always making jokes abt how old he is and it pisses him off. (He got asked if dinosaurs really had feathers.)
-for awhile on YouTube he did ASMR without showing his face.
-he doesn’t know how to drive at all and he has a horse collection of dolls. It’s kinda weird but the pastas think it’s bc he people used to ride carriages so that’s what Jack is most used to seeing. They’re not wrong.
-he doesn’t really like music, it’s so loud for his sensitive earbuds.
-he can genuinely hear everything.
-the only movie he cried at was the Freddy Mercury movie.
Lazari
Age: 16, appears however she wants to.
Wine problems: grounded for stealing a cat, can’t go to the mansion so she’s angsty and listening to old Evanescence. Also lookin a lot like Ramona Flowers rn (blue hair version)
Head-cannons
-she eats a LOT of icecream sandwiches.
-she reads a lot of comics, her favorite comic character is Raven (Rachel Roth) Bc she relates to her backstory a lot.
-before she knew her dad, she had a creepypasta fan account. Zalgo forced her to delete it.
-when Unus Annus ended she didn’t leave her room for a week. She was a MESS
-she influenced Candypop hella when getting into the Scott Pilgrim vibe and dying hair. She was his biggest supporter.
-she reads a LOT. She used to love Twilight too.
-she was a huge Percy Jackson nerd. She wants to play Thalia in a live action series.
-if you didn’t notice she’s rlly into pop culture.
-her and Sally remain best friends Bc Lazari is the only one who gets that Sally isn’t actually 8 years old despite her looking that way.
-I’m ngl her assignments from zalgo are mostly women.
-she is a very sassy young lady. Like she says some of the most out of pocket shit and it’s so funny. The pastas have witness Lazari telling Zalgo off and it’s so silly.
Jason The Toymaker
Age: unknown
Wine problems: the last person he killed is being a nuisance and wreaking havoc in his office. Also got his spell book destroyed, so Slender ordered another one for him.
Head-cannons
-he takes hella fashion inspo from the labyrinth.
-he REFUSES to smell bad or to live bad. Like he likes his stuff at the highest quality. It’s kind of silly.
-all of his clothes is made from spider silk.
-he watches a lot of plays and musicals, genuinely loves orchestras and stuff like that.
-his nails are super sharp and he kinda hates it Bc he can’t do anything with his hands and Jeff edited him to have pink nails saying Periodt 😭 and it became a huge meme in the groupchat.
-tbh he’s kind of an oracle, like he can tell what someone’s future is going to be like. He doesn’t do it on purpose but he’s somehow always right.
-this comes in tie with his assignments. He mostly deletes preteens and teens Bc he can see their future. He’s necessary for deleting future aggressors. He deletes more than his assignments tho.
-sometimes he gets emotional when watching Disney movies Bc he thinks of found family as the creepypastas.
-ice age makes him sob so hard. Don’t tell anyone tho, he’s embarrassed.
Zero
Age: 25
Wine problems: her scarf got stolen and her cat, Maple is hiding behind the TV Ben was previously trapped in.
Head-cannons
-she is very out of the loop. Slenderman had to seriously correct her spirit once she joined. She was way too much for him and the Pastas to handle. Now it’s like a venom situation where Alice and Zero take turns with Alice’s body.
-she has a very distinct style.
-for awhile her and LJ were kind of into each other, but she got the ick once and never looked back.
-she has very random violent outbursts that are hard to deal with. Slender has a detector on her to keep an eye. She’s probably the most defiant creepypasta.
-Jeff and her hooked up once and were in a very toxic relationship that lasted 2 months. Now they ignore each other and act like they don’t exist.
-she is highly into herself. Totally has a smexy twitter account.
-for as long as she’s been with the pastas, she has grown to care for them, though she doesn’t really show that at all. She doesn’t take it personally or care how they feel about that.
Homicidal Liu
Age: 24
Wine problems: accidentally got caught up in teenage drama while bird watching at the nearest park. He’s trying to find a way to back away from the group of teens without drawling their attention. It isn’t working.
Head-cannons
-he doesn’t remember Jeff or his family.
-if you give him orange chicken he’s gonna flip a chair and rip open his shirt.
-he’s able to stomach anything but he will totally critique your food, he does not care.
-his voice is really quiet and sultry.
-he doesn’t really understand or comprehend the spirituality involving Slenderman and other pastas, but he’s put off by it.
-*NSYNC fanboy.
-his favorite movie is probably house of 1000 corpses.
-his scarf was a birthday gift from Jeff from way back when.
-Liu only kills his assignments and no one else. He doesn’t really think about what he does, like he’s confused and very out of it. Though he gets along nicely with the other pastas, he’s respected by everyone there.
-Liu genuinely eats so much food but he doesn’t mean to. Like he loves eating. He’s definitely the kitchen cutie.
-he gets carsick hella bad.
Nina the Killer
Age: 20
Wine problems: couldn’t find her stockings and slender logged her out of the hulu account as punishment for throwing a meatball at the wall during dinner yesterday.
Head-cannons
-bisexual
-her favorite movie is definitely corpse bride, she is Emily, Emily is her.
-honestly she’s kind of a popular loner in the mansion. Like she’s friends with everyone, but she spends time alone a lot.
-definitely class clown material tho.
-she doesn’t crush on Jeff anymore 😭 she’s still demented like that tho.
-one of the only other pastas that kill outside of her assignments from slender. She kills whoever slender and Sally tell her too, but after that she grows obsessive over kind strangers and ends up killing some of them too Bc she can’t handle it.
-she isn’t allowed out often, most of her assignments are required at night to lessen her obsessiveness.
-she doesn’t really obsess over the pastas in the mansion since she’s already used to them. Jeff got lucky with her Bc once he started reciprocating feelings she lost interest 😭
-if she really wanted to, she could literally do anything within 10 minutes. Like she is FAST and hella energetic and such a diva.
CandyPop
Age: unknown
Wine Problems: keeps getting his antiques stolen by Puppeteer. Killed someone with asthma and they hit their inhaler just to blow the smoke out in his face. Mf was flabbergasted.
Head-cannon
-no one knows how he came to be, not even slender 😭 Candypop himself doesn’t even know.
-overtime his purple and blue colors started switching up.
-he says he’s exactly like Ramona flowers. Scott pilgrim vs the world is his favorite movie. Ramona is his favorite character.
-he’s a straight up asshole in a Sheldon Cooper type of way.
-everytime he’s drunk, everyone leaves the house Bc of how annoying and clingy he is.
-DO NOT tell this man your secrets. Everyone will know right as soon as you say “don’t tell anyone I did this, but…”
-he cannot drive, do not trust him in the drivers or passengers seat. Somehow he will fuck it up.
-he’s BESTIES with Clockwork.
-one time he dyed his hair green and it actually looked so terrible on him but EVERYONE was hyping him up, it was so bad.
-he loves going to Denny’s at nighttime Bc he feels special for how he looks. Or Walmart. He LOVES Walmart.
Kate the chaser
Age: 26
Wine Problem: currently trying to calm the chaos before Slender and Toby get home. Also accidentally ate a special brownie while on her antidepressants after downing 3 shots of vodka (don’t do this yall). Straight up tripping balls rn.
Head-cannon
-Fiona Gallagher coded.
-dresses up as a pirate every Halloween and she’s definitely the one who makes all the Christmas cookies.
-she always decorates the house for holidays.
-since she’s Jewish, she also has a Hanukkah setup too for the other Jewish ppl there.
-definitely vegetarian.
-probably the most fit and strong pasta next to Jeff and the supernatural ones (E: LJ, EJ, Candypop, Jason)
-she’s one of the originals.
-she had a short fling with Laughing Jill. They’re like an on and off power couple tbh.
-she bought a vibrator off of wish one time and Jeff opened her package Bc he thought it had his name on it. (Jeff had an odd bruise on his nose afterwards)
-she cuts her own hair and as a joke puts it on Ben’s pillow so that he’ll think someone dyed his hair. Cracks her up everytime istg.
-she drinks coffee like it’s nobodies BUSINESS.
Eyeless Jack
Age: 25
Wine problem: Has to help Ben torture Jeff. Also got lost in the woods for two hours looking for his next target, Toby found him and picked him up once he got back from the grocery store.
Head-cannon
-is normally the last person to find out drama or news.
-has almost walked in on so many creepypastas in the bathroom. The only reason he stops is because he can see the heat light.
-sometimes can’t tell if he’s just hallucinating Bc of how his vision works.
-if you take a picture with flash, his eyes will glow like a cats.
-buys clothes in incorrect sizes all the time. Toby has to go pants shopping for him often.
-the only time he can see normally is with his human disguise on.
-he’s definitely Greek, like his mom was definitely from Greece and his dad American. He can speak Greek and Spanish Bc of highschool. English is his second language.
-he used to get made fun of for the black tar on his mask looking like tears until Ben came along and they started the tear alliance. (They’d defend each other whenever one got teased)
-I feel like whenever he’s hungry he gets increasingly more deranged. So sometimes if he’s too depressed to get his own kidneys, someone else will have to get some for him ASAP.
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lincolndjarin · 9 months
Text
Best Kept Secret
chapter twenty one : te mirci't
ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧
Tumblr media
pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader
rating : 18+ mdni
word count : 9.0k
summary : reader does a lot of thinking, and a lot of expressing of said thoughts
warnings, etc. : language, angst, canon typical violence, smut smut smut smut, p in v smut, food play sort of kind of, din djarin nearly creams his pants over the concept of domesticity, sort of a dom/sub thing, switch!reader & switch!mando, din has a breeding kink and it's addressed, reader has like zero chill this chapter, dirty talk, men whimpering (hooray!), light bondage, use of handcuffs, unprotected sex
a/n : ik y'all are hype about breeding kink din but i'm gonna real quick say that i will not throw in like a surprise pregnancy in this fic, cause it hasn't been tagged with that thus far and sometimes it irks me when i'm knee deep in a fic and suddenly the reader is pregnant without warning and it wasn’t tagged,, so yeah. it would be different if i advertised this as a pregnancy fic from the get go but i didn't so i'm not gonna spring that on people. (reader could still potentially end up pregnant at the END of the fic (possibly maybe who knows) but there will not be any surprise pregnancy, sorry!) that's it lmao, just wanted to throw that out there.
“It means I love you.” 
You aren’t entirely sure how long you stare at him, looking rather silly with your jaw practically on the floor. 
How many times has he said it without you even knowing? How long has he loved you? Maker, your mind is racing as you try to recall when the first time he said it would have been.
You’ve already said it to him. 
Albeit you didn’t realize what you were saying but you’d said those words to him. And hearing you say them had worked him up so much that he’d fucked you like it was his last night alive. 
He doesn’t seem to have much to say now that he’s dropped that bomb on you. You just stare at each other in this blistering silence for an eternity. Until the smell of burning has you shooting out of bed, scrambling towards the oven as you grab the lone oven mit off the counter, removing the smoking baking trays quickly, propping open the single window above the sink and tossing the ruined cakes under the faucet.
“Kriff.” You lean up against the counter, staring at where he’s currently getting up from the bed to join you. Are you a terrible person if you just ignore it? Because currently the last thing you want to do is think about it. “I’m gonna start a new batch, I lost track of time with this one.” You whisper towards him, never actually meeting that thin black line of his helmet. 
“You don’t have to say it back.” He whispers back to you, taking a seat at the table. 
You know you don’t have to. 
Honestly the pressure of having to say it is the least of your worries. The most troubling part of this situation is the question that now plagues you which is, do you love him? 
You rinse out the last batch of batter from the bowl before starting a new one.
You’ve always been so hesitant with him. Even from the start. You wouldn’t let yourself think about him, then you wouldn’t let yourself feel for him, care for him, want him. At one point you wouldn’t even let yourself like him. 
So to think about if you love him? 
The only thing you’ve ever let yourself do is hate him. And you never even really did that. 
“I didn’t mean to upset you.” He leans forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. 
Shit. You’ve been quiet for too long.
“I’m fine, sorry, just… upset about the cakes.” You both know it’s a lie. But neither of you says a thing. He just nods. You work in silence, willing your mind to think of anything else as you scrape the burnt cake tin off into the sink before refilling it with the new batch of batter. As you slide the tin into the oven you turn, unable to face him you turn your gaze elsewhere, to the single shelf in his home. 
A few days ago when you were here it was covered in assorted pieces of metal and scrap. Now it’s mostly bare. In a desperate attempt to change the subject you walk over, picking up one of the few remaining scraps. 
“What happened to all your stuff? You hold a small metal ball between your fingers as he walks up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as he leans down. You feel the chill of beskar against your skin. 
“I used it all.” He’s still being far too vague about all this and you frown, holding the ball up in front of his face. 
“You forgot this piece.” He takes it from you as you say it, you don’t remember him taking his gloves off but they are, his bare hands holding it like it’s a precious gemstone. 
“This isn’t a part of my secret project,” He murmurs, rolling the ball between his fingers. “this belonged to the kid.” 
You have to remind yourself not to pry, that you promised yourself you’d let him talk about it on his own. His free hand snakes around your waist as he stares longingly at the metal piece, you say nothing, giving him the option to go on if he wants. After a brief moment of pause, he continues. 
“I tried to buy him a proper toy. Just once. He used to play with this, I thought maybe he was just bored because we spent so much time on the Crest. On one of my jobs I stopped and got him this little stuffed frog toy.”
You think of the frog he picked up from the lake all those moons ago. A pang of sorrow in your chest.
Every time he talks about the kid it seems like he’s talking more to himself than to you, this time is no different. He adjusts himself, standing up straighter so his chin rests atop your head now. He sways you gently to a song that only he hears.
“He tried to eat the damn thing, I tried to explain that it wasn’t for eating but he didn’t seem to care. Once he realized I wasn’t gonna let him eat it he lost interest, threw it into the fresher and went off to find this again.” He sets the ball back onto the shelf and just holds you for a moment. Just when you’re about to reach down to touch the hand he’s resting on your stomach he speaks again, in a whisper, like he isn’t sure he wants you to hear what he’s saying. “I used to worry that he was bored. Spending so much time on the ship with just me, without any of the things a child usually grows up with.” His grip on your waist tightens. “I thought for the longest time that he’d be happier somewhere else. Now I wonder if maybe he was content with what we had.” 
The more you let him talk out his feelings the more you realize that deep down Din is one thing above all. 
Someone who doesn’t think he is deserving of love. 
You turn around in his grip so you’re facing him and don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist, holding him tight. You might not be ready to tell him you love him but that doesn’t mean you can’t show him that he is cared for. He doesn’t move for a moment but eventually holds you back. 
He makes no effort to pull away so you don’t either. Staying like that until you have to get the cakes out of the oven before you burn another batch. He follows you in silence as you set the new batch on the table, he reaches for one and you smack his hand away. 
“You’re gonna burn your hand, stop that. And I still need to frost them.” 
You turn back to the book for the recipe, happy that the two of you seem to be in mutual agreement to not talk about the current situation. As you start pouring the sugar to make the icing you hear a hiss of air, on instinct you turn to face the noise, not realizing until it’s too late that you shouldn’t. 
You should feel regret.
But Maker, how could you. 
Your eyes fixed on the way he parts his plush lips to take the chunk of pastry he tore off into his mouth, his finger lingering on his bottom lip and that tongue. Darting out to lick his fingers clean. The way the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. You know you shouldn’t look, he’s got the helmet pulled up just enough that you can see the tip of his nose which means he doesn’t even know you’re looking, there’s metal between his eyes and you. You can’t, this is so bad, shit. You just keep finding reasons to not look away, especially now that he’s smiling. You always thought his smile would be condescending, maybe a triumphant smirk, but it’s so… dorky. He’s got such a dopey grin.
Stars, he’s got a dimple. 
Are you still breathing?   
And you can finally see the facial hair you’ve only ever felt brush up against you. Surprisingly well kept, with a few small bare patches. You want nothing more than to lean forward and kiss each one of them but you’re quickly reminded of how bad this entire situation is as you hastily turn back around. Stirring the bowl in front of you, acting as if nothing happened. Only a few seconds after you’re facing the counter again do you hear the airlock reseal. 
You hear a sharp inhale and a part of you worries he knows you accidentally looked but he hisses again before cursing.
“Fuck, that’s hot.” You can hear him breathing heavily through his mouth into the modulator.
Thank the gods.
“I warned you.” You chastise him, turning around and pouring a generous amount of the cinnamon sugar icing onto each of the cakes while they’re still hot so it absorbs into them. “These need to sit overnight in the conservator.” 
“Okay, should I put them in now or when I get back tonight?” 
You know what he’s really asking. 
He wants to know if he’ll be staying with you or coming home alone.
The answer is obvious to you as you nudge the conservator open with your foot, sliding the tins onto one of the shelves. 
“I’ll do this now since you won’t be around to. Should we go?” You slip your shoes back on, watching as a bit of tension leaves his shoulders. 
“Sure.”
It’s a quiet walk back but it isn’t really uncomfortable. You just want to get him back to your room, where he’ll hopefully help you forget about this whole mess. 
You waste no time when you get to your chambers. You drag him to the closet, struggling to remove his armor, carefully setting each piece on the floor while he simultaneously lifts your shirt up over your head. Once you have every piece of beskar removed, you find yourself tumbling to the floor as he practically tackles you into the blankets. Both of you fumble for the lamp until finally you manage to flip the switch and it’s like he can’t get the helmet off fast enough because in what feels like a single second, you’re shrouded in darkness, you hear the the sound of air, a thud onto the ground, and his lips are on yours. 
You’re waiting for something more to happen, he’d been so urgent just a moment ago but now that you’re here he’s just kissing you.  
Of course you aren’t complaining. Every kiss with him feels like a blessing from the Maker themself. You’re just a little surprised. 
You had sort of hoped he had plans to ravage you solely for the purpose of distracting you from the question, still searing your every thought, demanding your attention. But instead he kisses you one last time before laying atop your chest, arms wrapped around you. You think about teasing him but there’s something cathartic about this. His willingness to just be with you without searching for more. So you let him.
And when he inevitably falls asleep, his monstrous snores filling the small space, you’re left alone with your thoughts. 
Well, thought. 
Do you love him? 
Do you want to love him? 
Loving him means too much. 
You tangle your fingers in his curls, in an attempt to soothe yourself. 
Loving him is complicated. It means you’ll have to finally answer the rest of the questions you don’t want to so much as think about.
Kids? Marriage? Kodo? Any sort of future.
Loving him puts him at risk. 
He’s always been at risk. His choice to love you meant putting his life on the line. Everyday he wanted to be yours was a day that he could be dragged off by one of your husbands unlimited guard members and killed. 
Loving him means understanding that you’re on a clock. A clock to get off of Naboo as quickly as possible, to somewhere far away to hunker down. To hide from the inevitable onslaught of search parties that would come after a missing royal. 
They’d send bounty hunters.
Kodo doesn’t even like you, but if you ran off with the man he hired to protect you? He would stop at nothing to get you back. The thought of what he would do to Din when he inevitably found the two of you makes your blood run cold. 
But you need to push those thoughts away. Yes, they are important but they shouldn’t impact your feelings. Because at the end of the day you either love him or you don’t. 
And you can’t even seem to figure that out. 
You’ve never been in love before, you don’t really have a frame of reference. 
You’ve certainly never felt for anyone the way you feel for him. 
Is that love? 
If you weren’t already married would you have said it back?
You aren’t even really a wife at this point. 
You’re a prisoner. 
You aren’t sure when he woke up but he brings you back to reality with a kiss to your chest. 
“You should be asleep, princess.” His voice is gravely, still thick with exhaustion. You run your hands along his vast shoulders in an attempt to soothe him back to sleep. 
“So should you.” You whisper into the darkness, he hums softly in response. 
It goes quiet again. His arms tighten around you and you know he remains awake, every so often he’ll place a chaste kiss to your breast. 
Would it be cruel to bring it up again?
At this point he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest that you didn’t reciprocate the sentiment and you can’t keep fighting these battles alone. 
If you love each other, talking about these things is something you would do. 
It might be nice. To not be alone with these thoughts for once. 
“Din?” 
He hums again in response. You feel the scratch of his stubble against your chest as his head turns in your direction. 
You should let him sleep. Shut up and not bother him with this. 
“What does love mean to you?”
It’s such a corny question but you really are curious.
“What did you say?” For a moment you’re worried you’ve upset him but his tone makes you think he genuinely didn’t hear you. 
“What’s it like, to love someone?” 
He chuckles softly and a wave of relief washes over you. 
“That’s an awfully complicated question, cyare.”
“Okay, then, how did you know?” You purposefully avoid saying the words, “that you loved me.” 
“It sort of snuck up on me. It started my first week with you, when being with you started feeling less like a job and more like an honor.” 
Does he have to be so good with words? Even in this state, barely awake, he manages to be a goddamn poet. 
“Eventually it got to a point where I couldn’t ignore it anymore.” He mumbles his words into your skin. 
“When was that?”
“When you gave me a birthday.” 
Right before he had ended things. 
You don’t have to ask to know now that that's why he did it. 
“And that was when you were sure?”
“Yes. That was when I knew I loved you.” 
If he’s upset about you not saying it back he doesn’t make it known, he says it so casually.
“What does it feel like?” You run your fingers along the scar on the back of his head. 
“It feels like being afraid. There is a certain vein of fear that I had never known prior to meeting the kid, when I los-“ He hesitates. “When he left, I didn’t think I’d ever feel that fear again.” He sighs. “When I met you I learned how to be afraid all over again.” 
You sort of understand that feeling.
You felt it when you thought Kodo knew. And you felt it when you imagined Kodo’s reaction to your hypothetical children with Din. 
You felt it just moments ago. When you asked yourself if you loved him. 
“It’s like all the air leaves the room, replaced with terror. That terror eats away at everything until there’s nothing left.”
All you can think of is the night you found him in the hallway, and you’re certain you’ve never felt that level of fear.
“It’s not all fear though. I assume it’s different for everyone but the fear is only a part of it. For me it mostly feels like devotion and temptation. I know what it is to be devoted, for decades I followed my creed without question, and when I finally did abandon it, it was a matter of life and death, fueled by that fear.”
He sounds half asleep as he says it, like he’s telling himself a bedtime story, and you don’t dare interrupt. 
“That’s how I feel about you, except in your case, nothing could make me question my devotion to you, not even a matter of life and death. And as far as temptation goes…” He laughs quietly to himself. “I was unfamiliar with that feeling before you.”
“Temptation?” You whisper to him.
“When will you understand what you are to me, sarad’ika?” He sits up a little, you can’t see him but you feel his nose bump against your jaw as he rests his face in the crook of your neck.
“I know how you feel about me, you tell me quite often.” You’re only half-joking.
“Not how I feel about you, what you are to me. You are so much more than the one I never meant to love, I swear you were created just to tempt me.” You let your hand rest on the nape of his neck as he absentmindedly brushes his lips up against your throat. “If you asked me to remove my helmet, I would.” He murmurs against your throat. 
That’s a rather serious claim.
“You could have asked me from the moment I met you. It took time for me to realize I loved you but I have always, been sworn to you.” His fingers trail up and down your torso. “From the moment I first saw you, when you tried to remove my helmet, I promised myself that if you ever tried again, that I wouldn’t stop you.
Maker. 
How the fuck do you respond to that?
“We can talk more in the morning. Get some sleep.” He kisses your temple and lays back down against your chest.
He can be annoyingly eloquent when he wants too. You can’t help but wish you were as capable of putting your feelings into words the way he does. Seriously, how are you supposed to top, “When I met you I learned how to be afraid all over again.” 
Maybe tomorrow you could try and show him how much he means to you. Since you can’t seem to find the right thing to say, and even if you could he’s already asleep again, snoring at an ungodly volume like he didn’t just profess his profound love to you.
But talking to him helped, from how he describes it, you might just love him too.
This morning is much more coordinated than your last. 
Din wakes you up before the girls arrive. You have plenty of time to pick out one of the simpler pink gowns in your collection, along with a matching pair of slippers. You leave him there with plenty of time to spare. 
The girls don’t question it this time either. Neither of them tries to go into the closet and they waste no time dressing you. Lysa finds you a nice pink nightie from the dresser but you honestly aren’t all that thrilled about it this time around.
It’s getting harder and harder to care about this. 
Being dressed up like a doll every day.
Din certainly doesn’t care about what you look like so why even bother at this point? You’re antsy to get back to him and you’re about to hastily thank and dismiss the girls as they finish but Elaine speaks first. 
“Princess, would you join me for tea this morning?” 
You have no logical reason to refuse and you do enjoy time spent with Elaine.
You just want to be with Din.
But you can’t tell her that. 
“Certainly, shall I meet you in the gardens again?” 
“I will see you there, my lady.” Both girls give you small bows before leaving. Only a few seconds after they’re gone the closet door opens and there stands your Mandalorian. He makes his way to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.
“Shall I escort you to the gardens, my lady?” He leans down a bit so your eyes are level with the line of his visor.
“Lead the way.”
It’s a short walk and you’re once again surprised by how quickly Elaine has set things up, a table and chairs wait for you in the gazebo.
“Do you think you could find something to do for a few minutes on your own?” You say quietly enough that you know only he can hear it as you approach. 
He doesn’t respond but as you step into the gazebo he doesn’t follow you in, once you’re seated he walks off into the garden. 
“Seems like things are better between the two of you?” She pours you a cup, making it the way you like it before handing you the saucer. 
“Much better.” You smile as you take a sip. 
“May I speak freely ma’am?” She sets her cup down and crosses her arms, staring at you. Her tone has gotten so serious so suddenly you’re a bit stunned. 
“Of course.” 
“Lysa and I stopped coming to help you undress in the evenings many moons ago, we stopped waiting for you to summon us.” 
What a strange thing to say. 
“Okay?” Is all you can manage, still unsure as to what she could possibly mean by that statement. 
“Well, my lady, we just assumed you didn’t need the help anymore…” She stares at you expectantly but you’re still giving her a confused look. “You know…” Her eyebrows are raised but you just shake your head slowly, giving her a blank stare. “With getting undressed.”
Oh.
Oh.
Not much you can really say about that, she’s right, and you hadn’t even noticed because someone else was undressing you. Still, she can’t expect you to outright admit that. 
“I don’t need you to say a word, my lady, I just needed to talk to you, to warn you.” Something about her tone makes you shiver, even out here in the sun. 
“About?” 
“You’ve been reckless, princess.” You set your cup down. 
“Spit it out Elaine, you’re making me nervous.” You laugh anxiously but her expression remains stern.
“Kodo won’t take your absence from dinner lightly. And you’ve been too blatant about your friendship with the Mandalorian. You should act with more caution.” 
Well, you had wanted her to be blunt, you can’t be too shocked about that. 
“He is not a man who takes kindly to disrespect. He will retaliate if you aren’t careful, that’s all.” You nod as she takes a sip of her tea.
That’s all she says on the subject, quickly moving on to another topic.
Her warning was genuine and you’re thankful for it but you push it from your mind. You will right this wrong and attend dinner with Kodo this week.
Tea is short after that.
You aren’t in the mood for small talk anymore, you just want to spend the rest of the day with Din.
You whisper a genuine thanks to her before she departs, and you rush over to where he stands in the flowers.
“Cabin?” He asks. Thankfully he doesn’t risk holding your hand in broad daylight but he lets his knuckles brush against yours. 
“Cabin.” You follow him towards the pond and once you’re close enough he scoops you up into his arms to keep you out of the water. “Din! What if someone sees?” You whisper yell at him, eyes scanning the vacant gardens. 
“This isn’t any less damning than you walking in on your own. Besides, no one’s around, promise.” He pushes open the door before setting you down, locking up behind the two of you. “I’ve lived here for long enough to know that nobody comes out this far except us. Now, what do you want for the rest of the day?” He kicks off his boots and you set your slippers next to them.
It’s past noon at this point, you have nothing planned. 
“Do you want to just stay here? I think today I just want to stay here.” You walk over to the bed, lifting your skirt and taking a seat. 
“Works for me, I’m going to get some chores done if you don’t mind.” He removes his gloves, tossing them on the table before kneeling beside the dresser. 
“I don’t mind at all.” You scoot back a bit to rest against the wall, you’re actually quite curious to see what he’ll do, and you need time to think of how you’re going to show him how much he means to you. 
You watch as he takes out different weapons and tech that you don’t recognize. He tosses his gloves to the side and starts methodically cleaning every item. 
You’re sort of hypnotized by his attention to detail, it lets you think.
What does he like? 
Green, you, the kid, classic ships. 
None of those things can really show him how much he means to you though. 
He’s setting different things aside as he finishes any maintenance required, every so often he looks up at you before returning to his work. You feel a little useless just sitting here so you get up to take the cakes out of the conservator. 
Suddenly you have his attention. 
You don’t dare say a word, letting him just observe in peace. He drops whatever he’s working on, you don’t look but you can feel his visor trained on you. 
You take the tins out, setting them on the table before finding a dull knife. Each cake is small enough that you can fit your hands around each tin if you hold your fingers in the shape of a circle. You carve each cake out of its tin and he watches you intently the entire time, you can see him in your peripherals. 
So he likes… watching you do a shitty job at taking cakes out of tins?
It’s crass but you go through the list of things that have worked him up before. Things you’ve said to get him to give you what you want during sex. 
Two instances come to mind. 
The time you unknowingly said I love you.
And then last night, when you told him he could finish inside you.
And now? Your head tilts up just in time to watch him adjust himself in his trousers before sheepishly tuning back to his work when you catch him watching you. It takes a second but eventually things start to click.
He likes watching you look at home in his cabin. He likes the intimate feeling of a simple life. Watching you bake, saying I love you, having kids. 
Things a normal couple might do. 
He tosses something up onto the bed, you stare at it for a moment as he starts putting other things back into the dresser.
Handcuffs. 
Thick, padded, and metal. 
You know he intends on using them on you but you act fast, hurrying over to him, taking his hand. 
“What are you doing mesh’la?” He chuckles as you sit him down on the bed.
This is gonna be a shot in the dark, but if you’re confident enough, (and right) it’ll be worth it.
“Just, let me take care of you.” 
“You already take care of me.” He insists, starting to get up but you firmly plant your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down. Your plan is rapidly forming in your mind.
“I mean it, now stay put.” He sighs loudly but nods, tilting his head to the side in confusion. No sense in being coy, might as well be clear with your intentions to see if he’s actually into it. “Don’t be a baby, I know you get off on this kind of thing.” The moment you say it he scoffs but you’re already across the room, taking one of the little cakes and putting it onto a plate. 
“Excuse me?” “His voice is already terribly defensive but you just laugh it off. 
“You’re not the only one who can make observations. You think I didn’t notice the way your tone switched when I offered to bake for you?” He starts to argue but you cut him off. “And I’m definitely not going to ignore how quickly you came when I told you you could finish inside of me.” That surprisingly shuts him up. This might actually be the only time you’ve caught him so off guard that he doesn’t have a response. 
You bring the plate over to the bed, setting it on his nightstand.
“You like domesticity.” You lean in to whisper to him. “You want me to take care of you, don’t you Mr. Tough Mandalorian?” You can’t gauge his reaction because of the helmet but you can gauge the tent in his pants perfectly fine. 
“Djarin.” He certainly doesn’t sound stern now. 
“Djarin?”
“Din Djarin.” You hadn’t even realized until just now that you didn’t know his last name. 
You straddle one of his thighs, spreading his legs with your knees.
“Well then, let me take care of you, Din Djarin.” You like the way his name feels in your mouth and based on the way his cock twitches against your leg you’d reckon he does too. 
He’s always been so open with you and you’ve always kept him at a distance. 
Right here right now, if you weren’t dealing with the worst possible circumstances (your husband), you know that you’d tell him you love him, that you ache for him, that you know fear because of him. You know you love him. And you’re pretty sure he knows it too.
You just aren’t ready to say it. 
So you’ll have to show it. (And maybe say a few things that you are ready to say.) 
You love each other, at the end of the day you can’t keep censoring yourself when you think about him, he doesn’t deserve that. 
You want to show him what he deserves. 
You reach behind him and grab the cuffs. As you do his hands wrap around you to tug at your corset strings, an act that he’s getting rather good at. 
“You gonna put those on for me, mesh’la?” He drawls. Once he’s loosened your corset enough so that you’ll be able slip out of it you lean back again.
“No.” You grin at him and he immediately shakes his head. 
“Absolutely not.” He says the moment you start smiling.
“You’re always in charge, just let me be in charge, I’m doing this for you.” You grab one of his wrists but he easily pulls it away. 
“You were in charge last time.”
True, but irrelevant.
“Do you love me?” You stick your bottom lip out a little. 
“You’re terrible.” 
“I know.” But it works, because when you grab his wrist again he doesn’t pull away. 
“You know I can get out of these right? Very easily.” He says, watching you close the first cuff around his wrist, removing the belt around his torso and the one around his waist. 
“I know that too, but you love me, so you’re going to leave them on until I take them off.
“This feels less like you’re taking care of me and more like I’m your prisoner.” He mumbles. 
“Oh hush, you’d be happy either way.” Once again he seems at a loss for words as you cuff his other wrist, he sets his hands in his lap. You smooth out the fabric of his cowl before carefully removing it, folding it and walking it over to the table and setting it down. “I’ll make you a deal.” You say, turning back to face him. “If you don’t like it then I will stop and we can do this your way. But if you don’t then I will assume I was right, and you do want me to take care of you.” You straddle his thigh again and play with one of the releases on his chest plate.
“You’re being purposefully vague. What does taking care of me entail?” The impatience on his voice trails off as you start releasing his chestplate, finding the little locks, undoing them one by one. 
“Well… I just think that you like certain things, and I think you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”
“What things?” 
You click the last release and remove his chest plate, walking over to the dresser to set it down carefully before returning.
“You like that I baked for you.” You remove his gauntlets, setting them on his nightstand.
“Who wouldn’t like that?” You swear you almost hear him stutter. 
“Oh but I think you really like it. Because you know I did it just for you.” You remove his pauldrons and kneel between his legs to remove the pieces of armor on his thighs. “You like when I hold you, you like seeing me here, in your home, in your bed.” You slide his remaining armor down his legs, setting them aside before standing again and spreading his thighs with your knees to slot yourself between them, your hands grip the edges of his helmet. 
“Can I?” You whisper. 
After a moment's hesitation he nods. 
Your fingers snap the airlocks and you gently lift. 
Before closing your eyes you allow yourself one peek. 
You’re graced with a bashful smile, and you know that it’s okay, so you squeeze your eyes shut and completely remove the helmet, setting it on the bed beside him. Almost as if on instinct he leans forward and you feel his lips on yours as you gently push him back. 
“Let me do it, Din.” You laugh softly. “You don’t have to do everything.” You lean forward this time, hands on either side of his face, running your tongue over that bottom lip you wish you could see. “I’m going to take my dress off.” You mumble into his mouth before pulling back, you turn around and quickly slide your gown down your body, you grab the plate on his bedside table before closing your eyes and turning back around. His restrained hands play with the front of your nightie. 
“What are you-” His unfiltered voice is like warm honey, deep and raw, but you silence it by putting two fingers from your freehand to where you assume his mouth is. He starts to speak again so you gingerly slide your thumb between his lips and you hear any more questions he might have flicker out. 
“Can you go more than five minutes without asking me a question?” The moment you say it his lips purse like he’s going to ask again, you place your thumb over his tongue. Once you’re certain he isn’t going to interrupt your actions again you remove your hand from his face and tear a chunk of the cake off of the plate. “Open.” You laugh softly as you bring your hand towards his mouth, he immediately starts to protest again but you take the opportunity to stuff the pastry into his mouth, you get lucky and actually manage to get it in on the first try. 
If you’re being honest, you aren’t completely sure if this is going to work. You’re still acting on a hunch. A very presumptuous hunch, that deep down he wants nothing more than a quiet, soft life. 
A home. 
Unless of course you’re wrong. In that case you’re going to be rather embarrassed. Which is starting to be a worry as you realize he isn’t moving, two of your fingers just barely past his lips, he still hasn’t moved and you fell you nerves starting to get the best of you, just as you’re about to withdrawal and apologize for the entire silly affair, his lips close around your fingers. You can’t help but gasp at the feeling, accidentally taking a step back in surprise.    
His fingers immediately grasp at what fabric they can on your undergarments, trying to pull you closer again. You’re about to say something smug, along the lines of “I told you so.” But you’re stopped dead in your tracks.
Because Maker, he whimpers. 
You let him tug you back between his legs. The cold metal of the cuffs brushes against your thighs. 
You reach down and tear off another chunk of the cake, his bound hands guide you back to his mouth, which you're shocked to find is still open as you gently feed him. This time you don't flinch back, his lips close around your fingers and his tongue licks them clean.
This is the temptation he spoke of. 
You respect his creed. You’ve sort of taken your own creed, a vow to yourself not to look. But right now it takes all of your restraint to not look. Nothing could possibly make you happier than knowing what he must look like right now, lips wrapped around your fingers, trying to pull you closer. 
But just like him, you resist those temptations, finally pulling your hand away. 
“I told you I’d take care of you.” You whisper, a slight teasing edge to your voice.
“You’re a strange woman, sarad’ika.” He whispers back.
“So you don’t like this?” You tear off a piece for yourself, popping it into your mouth, feeling the icing coat your tongue. You bask in his silence before picking up the remaining pastry, gently feeding him, tossing the plate blindly onto the bed.
The only answer you need to your question is the way his tongue drags across your palm when he’s finished, you waste no time after that to push him down into the mattress. Letting your lips find his.
His mouth tastes just like it did the first time you kissed.
Vanilla. 
His arms go over your head, trapping you in his embrace. 
“Tell me I was right.” You pull back from him, grinning.
“I wouldn’t exactly go so far as to say that you were right.” His mouth latches to your chin, peppering a trail of kisses back up to your lips but you pull further back, as far as his arms will let you, eyes still shut.
“You’re a terrible liar, you know that right? Because about thirty seconds ago you were quite literally eating out of the palm of my hand.” He continues trying to kiss you to silence you but you keep turning your head to the side, he settles on your jaw eventually. 
“That doesn’t prove anything, I’ve barely eaten anything today, maybe I was just hungry.” He mumbles against your skin. 
“Mhmm, sure. Are you sure you don’t like playing house? I think you like imagining me as Mrs. Djarin.”
Whoops. Where the hell did that come from? 
“Don’t say that.” His voice isn’t playful anymore as he sits up, keeping you in his lap. 
“Kriff, I’m sorry Din, that was too fa-” You hear a metal thud behind you on the floor and his hands are no longer cuffed, they hold your waist now. 
“If you don’t mean it, don't joke about that.” His breath is hot on your face and his grip on you tightens. 
If you don’t mean it. 
So you were right. 
Your mind screams at you to be rational. You have a husband, there are a million reasons to apologize and to move on from this. 
Stop using the husband that was forced upon you as an excuse.
You can’t keep holding back when it comes to Din. It isn’t fair to him. Not when he gives you everything. 
“If I do mean it, can I joke about it?” Your voice is the quietest it’s been all day. 
He takes your hands and brings them up to his face, so you can feel him nod. 
“I’ll keep joking about it if you tell me I’m right. I’ll joke all night long.” You laugh a little as he brings one of your hands to his mouth so he can kiss your wrist. 
“You’re right.”
You can’t help yourself.
“About?” 
“I like this.” He drags his lips down your arm before dropping it. “I like when you take care of me.” 
“Turn the lights off.” He doesn’t hesitate once you say it, the curtains are all already closed 
Once the lights are off he flips you onto your back, you hear everything on the bed clatter to the floor as he tosses it aside.
His bed is lower than yours so his hands grab you by your hips, lifting your bottom half into the air a little, making you squeak in surprise. 
“Tell me another joke.” He says under his breath as he spreads your legs so he can grind his still clothed erection against you. 
“I thought you were going to let me take care of you?” You scoff at him, hearing his zipper.
“I am,” You gasp as he drops you back down onto the mattress, climbing on top of you. “I’m letting you tell me jokes.” You can practically hear his grin as he guides the blunt head of his cock into your folds. Lazily rubbing it against your clit and leaning down to whisper to you. “You started this with all your talk, is that all it was? Talk? I thought you said you meant it?”  
You’re trying to remember how he got the upperhand so quickly but it’s hard to concentrate when he keeps nudging himself against your most sensitive spot.
Everything always happens so fast with him, just once you’d like to turn things around on him and have it work.
“I-I meant it.” Is all you really manage to get out, he brings his cock down a bit to tease your entrance, never actually pushing in. His voice has that condescending tone to it that tells you he’s willing to play this game for a while and you hadn’t really factored in just how aroused you’d get during your display a few minutes ago. You’re soaked and there’s a good chance he’s going to draw this out in retaliation. He swipes his tip back up to your clit, the both of you hiss in unison. 
You still have one ace up your sleeve as you recall your conversation from last night. 
“So you liked one of my offers?” 
“I might have been interested in one of them”
One thing you know he wants. 
“Come on, sarad’ika. Where are your jokes?” He chuckles against your skin as he kisses your shoulder. 
“I was just trying to think of a baking joke. Can you give me a second?” You gasp out as his free hand reaches underneath you to squeeze your ass before coming up to rest on your hip. 
“I know you can do better than a baking joke.” You can feel him grin against you now, his teeth lightly graze your shoulder.
“It’s a shame, you would have liked it.” He goes back to teasing your entrance, pressing himself into you just enough to make you squirm but not enough to actually be inside you. You try to shift your hips downwards but his hand keeps you pinned in place. 
“I liked your jokes about Mrs. Djarin.” 
It’s now or never.
“Well you liked my cooking as well, so I thought I’d make a joke about a bun in the oven, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Filling me u-”
His hips buck forward and his grip on you tightens to the point of a sharp pain. To seemingly both of your surprises, in an instant he’s buried nearly to the hilt in your heat. 
“Maker, Din!” You’re gonna have a brand new set of bruises tomorrow. 
“Sorry! I, fuck- sorry.” He’s grunting in your ear, not bothering with your shoulder anymore, burying his face into the pillow next to your head. 
“Dank farrik, Din…” You’re reeling from the sudden motion, your head tilted back into the mattress. You need to catch your breath but the muffled groans coming from him distract you. The sting from the sudden stretch you're experiencing is quickly fading and you bring your hands up to his head, one resting in his hair and the other at the nape of his neck. 
He wanted to make this a game so you’re going to play, and you’re going to win.
You’re still panting a little as you turn your head to the side so you can whisper into his ear. 
“Stars Din, it’s that easy to get you worked up, huh?” His breathing is starting to level out, his grip on you lightens up. “I thought I was easy to rile up but look at you, all this just at the thought of a bun in the oven.” 
He isn’t making noise anymore, he’s still against you, listening intently as you run a soothing hand down his spine and back up again. 
“I can’t imagine what you’re going to be like when you actually get me pregnant.” 
You’re surprised by your own words, like your brain is on auto-pilot and you can’t filter yourself but he fucking whines so you don’t care in the slightest. High pitched and needy, muffled by the pillow. His hips start slowly rocking into you and you bite back your moan, wanting to maintain your advantage. 
You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling his head out of the pillow, savoring the whimper that comes from his as you do.
“Oh come on, you can’t even  handle the thought of it?” You breathe out the words and his head falls downwards as you release him, he bites your shoulder. “What does it for you?” He unclenches his jaw, starting to bury his face back into the pillow but you pull him back up again.
“Is it just the idea of finishing in me?” 
He doesn’t answer, to be fair you’re barely holding it together either at this point.
“Or do you just want everyone to know I’m yours? Want everyone to see that you knocked me up?”  
You get your answer with that because he’s trying to bury his face back into the pillow. A low wail leaves his lips as he frantically ruts into you. How quickly everything’s escalated has you hurtling towards your climax and you can tell by the desperate whine that leaves his lips as he presses them into your collar bone that he won’t be far behind. 
“I know you can do better than that, Din.” You mock his tone from earlier but he’s unfazed, pounding into you until finally you can’t tease him anymore because he’s reduced you to gasps and moans.
It doesn’t take long after that. 
One after the other.
You first, when his hand travels downwards, it takes only a few precise circles rubbed into your clit and your grip tightens in his hair, your walls flutter around him.
Just like that he’s going over the edge with you.
He pulls out, finishing on your stomach. 
You shouldn’t feel upset but there's the tiniest bit of disappointment as you feel his cum against your skin. 
He collapses onto the bed next to you, pulling you into his arms.
“I love you.” He presses a kiss into your hair. 
“I know.” 
You sit in the quiet dark for a long while, until finally, you have to ask.
“Do you actually want kids someday?” Your voice breaks the silence of the pitch-black room. “Little Djarin’s running around?” 
He rolls over so he’s hovering above you now.
“Are you trying to start round two?” He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours, your nose bumps against his. “I’ll need a few more minutes before I can go again, sarad, but I can keep you occupied until then.” He kisses you quickly, already starting to move his mouth south but you stop him. 
It’s so effortless right now. To be happy with him, in the darkness, pushing away thoughts of royal responsibilities. Letting yourself be with just Din, even if it’s brief. 
“I’ll take that as a yes?” You ask.
“Yes. Someday.” He kisses your sternum, laying down on your chest.
“With me?” 
“No, with Elaine.” You smack the back of his head when he says it, he laughs against your skin. “Yes, with you.” 
You let him lay on top of you as you nod to yourself. 
“Is it weird that everytime we have sex it turns into a competition?” He starts to laugh once more as you say it.
“It’s weird that you keep losing.” 
You smack him again.
Your peaceful break from reality is brief, as always, as you sit up. 
“We have to go. I can’t be out all night.” The last thing you want to do is return to your room right now, you want to stay here, the cabin feels more like home than any room in the castle ever has. 
He seems as unhappy with this as you are. The two of you dress in silence once he flicks the lamp back on, you turn around until you hear him reattach his helmet. 
You hold his hand on the walk back. You don’t have much to say right now, you’re certain at this point that you’ve made it clear that you love him.
That you just aren’t ready to say it. 
And he doesn’t seem to mind. 
You’re ready to just sleep. Your blanket nest seems more and more inviting the closer you get to the castle. 
The two of you sneak in through the back entrance and as always the castle is quiet at night. You keep your hand in his as you make your way up the steps. 
It isn’t until you get to the hallway where your chambers are located that you hear it. 
A persistent banging sound and someone yelling incomprehensibly. 
Din immediately drops your hand. 
Neither of you speaks as you walk but he shifts himself so he’s walking ahead of you, as you get closer you recognize the distinct, nasally voice. 
In the dim light of the hall you see Kodo, banging on your bedroom door.
“Wife, come now, you can’t ignore me, I’m your husband.” He hisses, you can smell the alcohol on him from here.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Kodo, are you okay?” You plaster on a faux look of concern as you approach, Din tries to put his hand up to stop you but you ignore it. 
He turns to stare at you, his clothes are askew and he isn’t even wearing his crown. 
“Wife! Where have you been?” He slurs, leaning in for a kiss that you sidestep, he doesn’t seem bothered by your rejection. 
“I went on a walk.” You answer quickly and he takes hold of your waist, you try not to look too repulsed.
“You skipped dinner yesterday, dear wife.” He teeters a bit, leaning towards you as you again try to avoid his kiss but this time he holds you firmly in place, it’s sloppy and you have to wipe a bit of spit from your face after.  
“I did, I wasn’t feeling well.” Your voice is getting smaller and smaller as you feel fear bubbling in your chest.
“Where are your guards?” There’s no respect in Din’s voice, no “your highness” or “your grace.” No one speaks to Kodo that way, not even you, but he’s too drunk to even notice. 
“I dismissed them, as is customary when one is visiting his bride’s chambers.” Kodo lurches forward, his hands sloppily grope the fabric of your skirt and you make an audible groan of discomfort. 
“We should get you back to your own chambers, come now dear husband.” You try to sound patient, you know he’s capable of violence and you don’t want to push him in this state.
“Why would we do that, wife? Come now, tonight I shall join you in bed. I missed you last night.” He hisses the words and you know he didn’t miss you in the slightest, this is a punishment.
This is what you get for disobeying. 
For skipping your dinner with him.
This is the inevitable thing that has made you unable to tell Din you love him. This looming promise of Kodo.
There’s nothing you could possibly do right now to escape the fate before you. The fear you feel right now is certainly not the fear of love that Din described to you. 
But that quickly changes.
You don’t get a chance to react as Din takes a step between you and Kodo, he doesn’t even wind up, he just drives his fist forward and you hear the sickening crunch of your husband's nose just before he slumps to the floor. 
As you stare at Din, you know your fear has changed. His shoulders heaving, his rage fills the corridor as you listen to his ragged breaths through the modulator. He turns around to face you, but you just stare at his hand, where the evidence of this potentially deadly mistake is dripping down his fingertips. You have never been more terrified for another person's life the way you are right now for Din. 
You’re mesmerized by the little speckles of your husband's blood, a stark contrast to the yellow fingertips of his gloves.
And suddenly it feels like all the air leaves the corridor as you finally look into his visor, you don’t see Din though, all you see is what they’re going to do to him for this.
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tojiwrd · 9 months
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3: fate is fickle ; gojo satoru
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pairing gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary when satoru breaks off your engagement, you understand and accept it. but when he marries someone else, you don't understand because he didn't want to be tied down.
content warnings drinking, reader being referenced to as a party animal, nanami being soooo fine lol, mention of drugs but nobody does it, mention of death, gojo being meannnnnn and weird
word count 3.1k
a/n thank you SOO much for the support i luv u guys <33 interaction is always appreciated i love talking to u guys also first part is set in the past j in case there is any confusion
send requests ↞ prev next ↠ to be added to taglist
When Gojo Hana, Satoru’s first wife, had come up to him after going to the bathroom for only a short of three minutes with a baffled expression, he wasn’t sure what to expect. 
Her lithe fingers curled themselves around his biceps as she found home between his thighs. Satoru’s mind was fuzzy, especially after three drinks and four shots, and that merely intensified the feel of her skin against his. It was her expression that he wasn’t sure if he was imagining to be tenfold more worried than it truly was, which pulled his lips into a straight line before he asked, “You okay?”
“Satoru,” she started, a small crack in her voice and Satoru leaned back against the chipped wood of the high table. “You know L/N Y/N, right?”
It was funny, and Satoru realized it was funny because he let out a small, nervous chuckle as his wife dropped your name, that all it took was a mention of your name to get his muscles to tighten like he was going to war. He had gone through every single opportunity for Hana to find out about you—not your existence, because there was hardly anybody within his circle that didn’t know of you—and come out of it unscathed (translation: Hana remained unaware). This couldn’t be any different, though she’d never outright mentioned you before. 
He remembered when Hana sat across the quartz tabletop, writing down name after name in delicate cursive, and asked about the L/N family. He’d stiffened, but only momentarily, before he said something along the lines of of course, father would have it no other way. And that, for the time being, was true because there was no way his father wouldn’t want your family to be there after so many years of working together. Satoru wanted to ask Hana, at that moment, if she was sending out invitations addressed to family but he held off until later to make it not seem suspicious. She’d said, ‘Of course not! I want them to be personal and meaningful.’ Satoru felt as though he was ready to change her mind, but how could he argue with something as sweet-intentioned as that?
“My father worked with hers,” he replied, pushing away memories. “Why?” he asked hesitantly. 
There was no suspicion on her face, just curiosity, and Satoru hated himself at that moment. 
“I think I saw her in the bathroom?” It felt as if all his senses perked up and heightened at her words. Fuck. “She was with another girl. I don’t know her name—brown hair, brown eyes, and… about this tall?” Her hands raised up to demonstrate how tall Reina was. He knew exactly who his wife was talking about because if you were out, Reina was with you. He’d always joked how both of you came in a package, and even Suguru only informed one of you about a party and when the other asked him if they were invited, he always said you both always come together.
It had been ages since Satoru saw either of you, but it was hard to forget how Reina always fought for you when you were his girl. And he was glad you still had her because she wouldn’t leave you abruptly, figuratively packing up all the pieces she left in your life in an instant like he did.
“I wouldn’t know,” he coolly said. 
Hana’s lips curled into a small frown. “Her friend said something about how all I know is Y/N’s dad and yours work together.”
“Well, not anymore but yeah.” He feigned indifference, though every nerve of his body felt as if it was on fire. He noticed how her frown only deepened, and he asked, “Were they mean to you or something?”
Hana, sweet, precious fucking Hana, instantly shook her head before she paused and looked down at his chest, as if cowering away from his gaze. “Kind of? I don’t know, maybe she was offended that I only knew her because of your dad?” When she realized she was implying you were being righteous, she took her hands from his arms and raised them in surrender. “I mean, I don’t think she’s, like… a bitch or anything! I might’ve heard them wrong.”
Satoru tried to stop himself, he truly did. But he had to ask. “They still here?”
When she nodded and subtly pointed to the table you sat at with Reina, he couldn’t stop his neck from immediately turning in your direction, a haze of confusion and animosity behind his eyes. Not because you were being rude to his wife, but because he had to be in your presence after months. With his wife. It was truly a miracle that Hana hadn’t noticed the entire emotional turmoil behind his eyes as soon as your name was brought up, which is why he turned to meet her eyes once again and said, “She won’t bother you again, love.”
“You look especially happy today,” Reina commented as her body slithered into the passenger seat of your car. 
She was right, you did look happy and you felt it, too. After the conversation with your mother—the unmangling of a burden of emotions between mother and daughter—you felt as though a weight had finally been lifted off your shoulders. The small conversation with Satoru felt like a faraway memory, one which your mind didn’t feel the need to unpack and decode anytime soon because, as Reina had said, he was a taken man. He had a girl at home, and that scratched away any possibility of you and him ever being anything, even friends, because you were engaged to him at one point.
Did that fact hurt? To a whole different level, but you weren’t going to let it tear you down like it had over and over again in the past few months. 
“I’m just happy to be invited to the biggest club opening of the year in Kawasaki,” you replied, giggling as you began driving to the location. This was a date you marked on your calendar months ago in big bold letters that said ‘PARTY CLUB LEVITATE.’ It was mere seconds after you opened the dark papered invitation with gold embossed lettering inviting you to a new club, Levitate’s opening. You had dressed yourself in leather pants that hugged your skin perfectly and a shimmering silver halterneck top that covered everything it needed to and just that.
You and Reina glossed over the fact that both of you would be drinking, which meant neither of you would be in condition to drive back. And, even though there were a few people from your circle who would be there, too, it was a hard guess to assume who wouldn’t be drinking. 
That was a bridge to cross later because as you stepped through the large gates, flashing your pearly whites as you said your name to the security guards, you were overtaken by the instinct to let go completely loose. Within a blur of moments, you’d downed five shots and you were nursing a glass of—what the bartender said was—a fucking expensive glass of hennessy. 
Once you deemed yourself buzzed enough to go onto the dance floor and find Reina, your hips began moving off their own accord. You loved letting go. The music reverberated off the newly-done walls, a sheen of excitement running through the air as everybody had large smiles plastered on their faces. You and Reina’s arms were on each other's shoulders as you both let the heavy thrumming take over. 
At one point of the night, many drinks and dances later, you were sitting comfortably on the high chair in front of three bartenders who made small talk and recommended drinks. They recommended the ‘sinner’s delight’ to you which was a combination of fuck-knows-what, and you had to admit it was delicious. Reina was still on the dance floor, taken with a man that had been giving her googly-eyes all night, and you were merely trying to catch your breath. 
“Hey, stranger.” You heard someone say as the bottom of the chair next to yours scraped against the floor, indicating they were sitting next to you. You, your mind hazy, turned to your side and were stunned to meet a pair of familiar dark eyes. 
“Geto…” you trailed off, and he shook his head as a small smile overtook his lips. 
“I’m out of here if you want, trust me. If you—y’know, don’t wanna talk.”
It was your turn to shake your head, and you did it with vigor. “No, no. Stay. I’ve actually been meaning to get in touch with you.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. You were planning on getting in touch with Geto, you just weren’t thinking about it to the point you’d actually go through with it. “It’s just been crazy hectic recently.”
There was a sad smile on his lips, and you could imagine he was probably thinking that by recently, you had to mean just about a year which clearly meant you were lying. You were lying, but you also felt you had every right to since you and Geto became friends through Satoru, and Geto was always going to choose Satoru if he had to. In fact, he did choose Satoru because from all the posts you saw on Instagram, they were still as thick as thieves. 
“What have you been up to?”
Your mind was blanking, it was a combination of the alcohol and reconnecting with your past, but you tried to go through your timeline since the last time you truly talked to Geto. “I’ve been looking to start a company—or something, I’m not really sure—and my father was helping until… Well, yeah. Right now, though, I’m just helping my mother out with papa’s company and getting stuff in order. Reina and I are actually doing this thing where we read twelve books a month, too, so—” You cut yourself off, realising you were rambling and you felt your cheeks warm up when you noticed Geto was hanging onto each of your words. “I don’t know. Anyways, how about you?”
“I’m sorry. About your dad. I know I wasn’t there for you but—”
You raised your palm, attempting to stop him because you didn’t wanna get too deep into the topic of your father. “No, I know. You called, texted, sent letters, Geto. You don’t have to apologize.” He looked forlorn, and your fingers instinctively reached up to place themselves on top of his own to reassure him. “Trust me.”
Geto took that with as much stride as he could, and attempted to make normal conversation with you. He told you about his art gallery which you knew was picking up since the last time you met him. He asked you for your opinion on some pieces he was looking at, and you tried to give him your best advice. And even though you knew he hadn’t meant to scroll through his camera roll of paintings and accidentally scroll past an image of Satoru and Hana, your lips still curled into a frown because it reminded you he was friends with not just him, but Hana, too. Hana was Geto’s friend the same way you were his, through Satoru. Geto masked his mistake by immediately giving you a backstory of one of the artists, and it did get you interested, but not too distracted from your new realization. 
“Suguru! You made it.” Your head snapped up and you thanked every God above for the intrusion of the new voice. Geto locked his phone and looked up at the same time as you at the blond man whose eyes were crinkled up showing the tiniest hints of a smile. “And you.” His gaze shifted, landing on your figure that was leaning against the table. “Glad to see you made it too.”
You remained silent, unsure of how to respond to a stranger as charming as him. 
“Of course, I did, Nanami,” Suguru said, rolling his eyes lightheartedly.
A lightbulb flickered in your mind and you were instantly on your feet. “Oh, god. I’m L/N Y/N, thank you so much for the invite. The opening is great.” You were standing across the owner of Levitate, and you couldn’t help but drink every feature of his in. He was tall, and if you got any closer to him, you were sure his figure would cast a shadow over you instantly. 
He laughed. “I’m Nanami Kento.” He bowed slightly, and his hand reached out for yours and his fingers gently lifted it up before he grazed his lips over your skin. “The pleasure’s all mine, of course.”
Geto shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and you realized it was probably because neither you nor Nanami were pulling away from the other. You cleared your throat, mustering up an awkward smile as you slid back onto your seat. Your eyes still remained on him, and his remained on you and you found yourself slightly burning warm under his gaze. 
“I gotta go, duty calls,” Geto said over the silence though the music was still going on. He flashed his phone screen that displayed an incoming call from his assistant before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug. It wasn’t much—not the bone-crushing huge the two of you used to share—but it bloomed a sense of familiarity within you, and you could sense Geto felt the same too because he smiled slightly. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
You nodded, overcome with a sense of joy that only occurs after you reunite with somebody that has done you no wrong. 
Nanami bids him goodbye, too, before he slides into the seat Geto was occupying.
“Are you liking the place so far?” he asked, hands gesturing to the surroundings. “I wasn’t sure if I should invite the area’s biggest party animal because you’ve seen many of these kinds of places. But I can at least expect an honest review from you, right?”
You gulped at how he referred to you as a ‘party animal’ and you knew that people had begun seeing you that way over the past few months, too. You weren’t sure if it sat right with you, but you didn’t have anything particular against it. 
“Hmm,” you hummed, trailing a finger over the wood of the table, feigning serious thinking. “I think you could change…” You paused, noticing how his brow went up at your words in curiosity. “Everything. It’s trash.”
He narrows his eyes before he lets out a laugh, and you follow along. His hand lightly covers your knee as the two of you laugh a little too obnoxiously over a joke that was hardly funny, but you blame the ‘sinner’s delight.’
“I thought I’d have to close this place down, no joke,” he said, still between bits of laughter.
You smiled. “Hey, don’t do that. This is my new weekend spot, I’d hate to have it taken away.”
His eyes turned warm and he tilted his head at your comment. “Yeah?”
You nodded, ignoring the feeling of his hand against your knee. “Yeah, to the point you’ll have a drink named after me.”
He blew out a breath as he called the bartender over and whispered something into his ear.
“What was that? You order drugs or somethin’?”
“Oh yeah, the code is strawberry and pickles if you want some.”
“I’m glad to know this place has options, then.”
“No, but I just ordered you a drink you’d like.” When you pointed at your half-full glass of ‘sinner’s delight,’ he shook his head and said, “This one’s not on the menu. Just for you.”
Gojo Satoru always hated meetings.
He hated having to prepare what he would say, and hated even more whenever the conversation didn’t go the way he’d prepared. It wasn’t good that he saw meeting his father as a meeting, but that was what it was. An extremely rage-filled meeting that he was never prepared for because he had no idea what his father would say. 
“Listen, Satoru.” Oh, Satoru was listening, alright. “Mrs. L/N isn’t backing down. I fear she’s taking selling the company off the table.”
“Probably because you told her you didn’t want to buy it and just have it.” Satoru knew his words held bite to them, but that was the only way his father would realize that he can’t merely get whatever he wants. And also because he couldn’t stand talking about your family at all as the memory of the last time they had dinner was still fresh in his memory.
“I said I wasn’t paying the money she asked for, not that I wasn’t paying at all.”
“Father,” he said, letting out a strained breath. “You have to ask, not demand. And I’m not talking about this anymore—it’s not my problem and I’m not getting involved in it.
When Satoru walked out of the office, he realized that he was being harsher on his dad than he ever was. Hana seemed to realize the same, because she froze up when he opened the door and caught her standing a few feet away, probably having heard the entire short conversation. 
He brushed past her, giving her a small smile, towards their shared bedroom but she followed while saying, “Satoru, darling, are you okay?” She followed him to the bed where he laid down, fingers rubbing at his eyes as he tried to alleviate some of the tension away. “Talk to me, Satoru. Are you upset with your father?”
Of course. Of course he was upset with his father because when was he not?
“Hana, please—”
“No, Satoru.” She cut him off and he could barely inhale at her tone. Rarely had she sounded so curt with him, and everytime she did, he wasn’t sure how to pull her out of it except for leaving her alone. He hadn’t been able to figure out the specifics, despite it being many months since they’ve been married. “You’ve been acting off for the past week, and it started after dinner at the L/N’s. Did something happen?” “No.”
“Then what is it?”You. It was you who he couldn’t get out of his mind. He couldn’t forget how you’d once and for all, completely solidified that you and him were over. He couldn’t forget that he could’ve tried harder. He couldn’t forget that he could’ve explained everything. He could see that you were still seeking closure, and he knew he should give it to you but he couldn’t have. Not unless he wanted you to fall down the path of having to heal all over again. Because of him.
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perictione00 · 5 months
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Oops!...I Did It Again
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Ch 4: Fuck me like you hate me.
Pairing: Nanami x reader
Warnings: MDNI, smut, unprotected sex, angst, use of curse words.
Synopsis: When life was throwing you uncountable curveballs, an unexpected reunion with your high school friend helped you dodge every single one of them. Coping mechanisms leave you both in a complicated situationship. So what happens when one of you ends up catching feelings? The cliche or the unexpected?
Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist
Ch 3
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Fuck me like you hate me? That particular expression from you conveyed the exact opposite of Nanami's sentiment. The dynamics between you two underwent a noticeable shift after that exchange. Previously, you instigated random conversations with him while sharing dinner, but now you steer clear of interactions and instead aggressively approach him with sex on your mind. Suddenly, that was all it was about. Secret visits to his office evolved into regular and conspicuous events. He wasn't complaining; he enjoyed having you in his arms; however, it felt like there was a wall that kept him from reaching you.
"You're doing it again, y'know." He confronted you as he saw your form entering the room.
"Doing what again?" you inquired, diligently drying your hair.
"Pushing me out-"
"You're just too big for me, but I promise I'll try to make it fit this time." You replied playfully.
Kento audibly sighed at the apparent endeavor on your part to ignore his inquiry with an innuendo. His gaze traced your motions, uncertain if you intended to swiftly segue into intimate matters or address the pending discussion. The predictability manifested as you opted for the former, leaving your bathrobe on the floor, settling onto his lap, adjusting your damp tresses, and drawing him closer, close enough to kiss. Your mere presence proved intoxicating, and despite his earnest attempts to grapple with his dilemmas, the overpowering sensation of your lips meeting his was enough to conquer his doubts and uncertainties. And right when he had started to drown himself in the kiss, you pulled away. It looked like you wouldn't listen to him, so he decided to speak your language and give into you.
What were you doing to him? You pondered as you observed every detail on his face that reflected nothing but his unwavering devotion to you. He was a great person, and yet you could never be the same as him. A lingering feeling of fear, borne of past disappointments and betrayals, veiled your sentiments. You had experienced them far too many times from far too many people you considered close. Your trust was fractured by the scars of abandonment etched by some friends, some endgames, who left you when they were bored. Were you the problem? Were you the catalyst for their departures? You don't know. There's one thing you know for sure, though: you are never going to grant anyone that power over you. You're never going to surrender dominion over your emotions or believe in anyone because people suck no matter how perfect they appear to be on the outside. You are tired of being on the receiving end of pain. Maybe now you'll take your sweet time giving it. Kento appears to be flawless, and that's uncanny because you don't know what you'll do if he leaves you like everyone else. So you have decided to own him without having him—an attempt to possess without being possessed—to lay claim to his heart without the surrender of your own, as yours remains beyond his grasp.
Kento lithely guided you onto the plush mattress, divesting himself of his shirt. A heavy breath escaped him as he traced a path of delicate kisses along your neck. Captivated by the allure of your taut nipples, he indulged in drawing one into his mouth while ardently caressing the other, savoring the sensation of your hands entwined firmly in his tousled locks. Sucking indelible marks on your bosom, he earned fervent moans from you. Intertwining his fingers into yours, he slowly moved down to your pussy. Interlocking his fingers with yours, he moved down to your pussy to bestow his attention upon the realm of your desire.
"Ah, Kento!" Your limbs entwined around his head, where his adept mouth and tongue worked a beguiling dance upon your sloping core, his hands asserting control over your hips. The vice of your thighs clamped down upon his head, giving him an unspoken insistence to continue his abuse, and so he did. Swiftly, Nanami wasted no time, seamlessly immersing himself between your parted legs.
"Don't move," he commanded as his sizable hands encircled your hips, conveying a tacit warning to stay still when you tried to move away due to the overwhelming sensitivity.
“K-Kento, I'm coming.” You whimpered while grinding your cunt against his tongue, riding through your orgasm.
Without a break, he pulled you onto his lap, seating you with your back leaning against his chest and his already-leaking cock rubbing against your bare cunt. Keeping one thick arm around your waist and the other holding your jaw, he kissed you passionately as he entered your warmth.
"Shi-shit, hah-...fuck" Curses slipped out of his mouth as your wet pussy swallowed up his whole length. He started drilling his cock into you at a dizzying speed, snapping his hips against yours.
"Does this feel like I hate you?" He asked in between his thrusts.
There it was again. Why doesn't he understand that the thrill will be lost the moment they commit? Why can't he just continue this no-strings-attached relationship? Why can't he accept that this feeling of love won't last and all that will be left of it will be dispair?
"A-answer me?" He questioned you as he violently rubbed fast circles on your clit and mouthed at your neck, savoring your taste.
"No."
This wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. It frustrated him to no end that you would go to such lengths just to deny his questions. Pounding relentlessly into your cunt, his tight hold on your waist left bruises.
"Umf-yesh...jus like tha..." You arched your back as he started thrusting at an animalistic pace, each stroke greater and more urgent than the last. You were nearing your climax once again. His teeth pulled at your bottom lip, kissing you over and over as you continued bouncing on his cock. You came with a high-pitched squeal, causing his jaw to clench as he felt your pussy spasm around him.
A series of guttural groans escaped his lips as he climaxed within your embrace. Exhaling deeply, he gazed upon you, a glistening sheen of sweat enveloping your entire form. Your disheveled, damp locks clung haphazardly, yet in this disarray, you appeared flawless. The most beautifully perfect being. Why couldn't you view yourself through his lens?
"I can't do this anymore." He smiled softly, his eyes gleaming with tears.
"What? Why? Is the sex not good?" Why was he doing this?
"Can we be something more than this?" He asked hopelessly, almost sounding tired.
"Where's this coming from?" You inquired.
"Answer me."
"What the fuck is this-"
"Why can't you see it?!" His sorrowful voice gave away his dispair.
"I dunno what you're talking about. Y'know what? Let's take a breather." You stated to avoid the matter at hand.
"No... please. I need to know."
"Kento, let's not-"
"I love you."
"No. Don't do this."
"I love you-"
"Stop it!" you screamed, gasping, a tear escaping your eye. "It's not worth it; let's act like this never happened."
"I can't-"
"Why not? What more can you want? I'm giving you everything, aren't I?"
"I want you." Nanami embraced you in a hug. "I want all of you, and I'm willing to wait."
You pulled away.
"There's nothing there for you to wait for. I don't want you if I can't have you like this. I'm sorry, Kento, but I guess you will only ever be just another good fuck for me."
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gyuvision · 4 months
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goodnight ricky
wc ; 1k - pairing ; ricky shen x fem reader
summary ; before your roommate left she promised she’d find you a replacement. 3 years later she never did, until now, leaving you as confused as ever while you looked at the 6ft male sitting in your room.
contains -> fluff/slight angst
you came back late, having class at a top (and painfully competitive) med school plus the late shift at the local coffee shop. you were tired especially during exams. all you wanted was to stay in your bed and read a book, or sleep for the rest of the night. however you pleased.
so naturally being that exhausted you were absolutely not expecting the man sitting in your desk, drawing towards the conclusion that you were hallucinating and that maybe sleep sounded like a better idea than a book.
“someone told me to wait for you here”
“what?”
“you know, your roommate?”
oh. right.
your roommate was your best friend. you were inseparable, shared the same dreams, got into the same college together.
but everything changed. she got a boyfriend, and suddenly your future wasn’t as intertwined as you originally planned it to be.
they broke up and she realized she wasn’t sure what she wanted. everything about her had changed and your schedule almost never lined up because of how many times she changed it for her ex.
so, she cut ties, peacefully. she explained she no longer wanted the same thing as you and left but promised to visit soon and that she’d find someone to take her place because she knew how much you hated being on your own.
guess that explained why the man (who you later knew as shen quanrui) was waiting for you, in the same spot she always waited for you to come home.
“its been.. 2 years since she left. how could you have found me when she couldn’t even shoot a text?”
“unbeknownst you, you mean a great deal to her more than you seem to think you do. i was her partner in art school before we had graduated, and she sent me here. she knows how you are, with your life plan laid out in front of you, for you. she knows you’d still live here even after almost 3 years. she knows you’d end up getting into med school after college. you’re not that unpredictable jung y/n.”
“so i’ve been prepared all my life, and what about it? i don’t march towards things without a plan. and how could you address me by my full name when i don’t even know yours?”
“shen quanrui.”
“shim what?” “shen. quan. rui. shen quanrui. its not that hard.”
“so you’re not korean?” “obviously not. i’m chinese.”
“can you say your name one more time?”
“my god. you can just call me ricky.”
“lovelicky.” “what?” “nothing.”
“i brought back food. it was supposed to be a snack for me but i guess you can have it now that i know i’ll be accommodating for two from this point on.”
“thanks. but uh- can we just go to sleep?” ricky asked, moving from your desk to sit on your twin bed.
“what? this is a two person flat. go sleep in her old room.”
“uh- i would, assuming she left behind her bed. but you kind of boarded up her room and i’m not looking to take it down at midnight on a thursday.”
“oh. i guess you’re right. i forgot about that. i just never assumed she’d actually send someone to me so i didn’t want to look at everything she left behind.”
ricky shrugged and laid down on one side of your bed, while he let you climb into the side touching the wall. since when was he wearing pajamas?..
“isnt this weird?” you muttered.
“not really.”
“i just met you.”
“your couch looks stiff as fuck and i’m not sleeping on the floor.”
right. you had a couch.. maybe med school is taking a toll on your memory. you feel like your frontal lobe is deteriorating.
ricky watched as you reached for a book, before he quickly grabbed your hand and set it back down on the shelf above the bed.
“no. sleep. you have school then the night shift at the cafe.”
“how did you-” “you leave your schedule framed on your fridge.” “right..”
“goodnight y/n.”
“okay. goodnight ricky.”
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a-very-tired-jew · 20 days
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Fandomization, Fervor, and Fuck Off
A consistent and appalling behavior since October has been the fandomization of the I/P Conflict by anti-Zionists and co. Many of us on this site have documented and talked about such behavior. From my own personal experience it reminded me of certain anime fandoms back in the day when they first emerged. If you weren't talking about it and it wasn't all consuming then you were a problem. I remember conventions being hell as these new fandoms crashed photo shoots and panels that weren't about them. The way in which anti-Zionists crash into other issues to make it about their particular one is reminiscent of these behaviors. As I've stated before, my toes are dipped into a variety of scientific topics as an ecologist. One of them is climate change and for the past few months the conversation within CC spheres has been forcibly turned to I/P and the "wanton destruction of the Palestinian landscape by the evil Jews Zionists. Thereby proving they're not indigenous because no indigenous culture would destroy their landscape." Never mind that the conversation prior to that moment was about pollinator loss due to climate change and habitat loss. This is Fandomization and Fervor. The want to drive your fandom into every single topic and make it everything. But now? We're in the Fuck Off stage, and I don't mean this as us telling anti-Zionists to fuck off, I mean the Fandom is telling people within it to Fuck Off or, at least, shut up. Since the beginning of this conflict there have been moderate voices within the anti-Zionist activist movement. We talk about the outright antisemitic and hate fueled ones here, but don't talk about these persons enough. The Moderates are the ones within these spheres that get pointed to when we bring up antisemitism because they bring nuance to the movement and try to curb the worst of the vitriol. They are the ones that screen capped and held up besides the token "Good Jews". While they didn't necessarily have as much of an impact in the beginning of the conflict due to the lack of numbers and the overwhelming fervor, zealouness, and righteousness of anti-Zionists, they are being noticed now. Many of the spaces I am in that posted incessantly every day and had multitudes of conversations about I/P throughout them have now become relatively silent. There might be a brief conversation over the course of 30 minutes here or there, an article gets posted every few days, and the AJ update is the only daily posting. Now, when larger conversations kick off there is more attention paid to the Moderates and the nuance they bring because it's not rapid fire anymore. People don't have to scroll back through hundreds of messages to find the nuance, it's right there and it's loud and clear. So they're being told to Fuck Off In every space I am in I have seen some variation of "Shut up, every time you talk the conversation ends" told to the Moderates. Why? Because each time they are addressing something that would have radicalized people earlier in the conflict. They are addressing outright hate and/or contradictory messaging. The culmination of which has been talking about the Islamic Republic's recent attack on Israel. I have seen them blatantly call out their activist community for celebrating an attack by a country that stands antithetical to everything its members say they stand for (LGBTQ+ rights, women's rights, political rights, etc...) and jails, tortures, and kills people like them. As such, the Fervor and radicalization of new fandom members can't happen, and I see it angering the people whose entire identity has revolved around the Fandom and the hatred associated with it. The cognitive dissonance that the Moderates invoke in the radicals has resulted in some outright hatred in these communities that I thought was reserved only for us Jews. But now? Now it's clear that the most ardent members of the Fandom are just full of hate. That's it. They don't actually care of Palestinians, they just want to justify their hate and wallow in it.
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captain-mj · 4 months
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Superhero au
I got inspired and made a little superhero x antihero au, hope you guys like it <3 Part 2 should be out soon
Ghost was good at what he did. Very good. He got up, he killed villains that the heroes were too pussy to deal with and he went home. Today had been easy. One freak that liked to hurt animals to try to make some weird chimera that he found great joy in murdering.
Ghost had been nice. He had left his face and teeth intact so he could easily be identified. The police were fucking useless and he didn’t want them trying to insist he killed an innocent again. The amount of civilian deaths pinned on him (all later redacted because they were never true) was ridiculous. 
As he slowly went around his living room, considering what he’d do with his night, he heard a creak of his floorboard. Ghost threw one of his knives at that area, seeing… 
“Soap.” He recognized the stupid superhero in his stupid get up. Too much spandex and gold for him personally. 
“Ghost.” Soap smiled at him brightly. “I finally found out where you lived!” Already his smoky tendrils, ones that were so commonly associated with him You couldn’t have one without the other, had wrapped tight around his wrists. Soap tries to break free but they didn’t budge despite his super strength. His smile faltered as he was lifted until his toes were barely touching the ground but he quickly put it back up. 
Ghost hated him so much. His smile was so bright. Literally, there was a light around him that kinda hurt Ghost’s eyes. He was happy he still had his mask on and that Soap did not see his face. 
“How dare you.”
Soap wiggled one hand so Ghost freed it and he pulled out a flier. “So Ghost. I believe that we can find an advantageous alliance for all of us if you were to join th-”
“No. I’m not joining shit. Get lost.” 
Soap smiled tighter, an almost grimace. “Well, ya see. We could pardon you of all crimes.”
“I’ve committed no crimes.”
“You’ve murdered many people.”
Ghost glared at him, the tendrils dancing around him. They felt like nothing against his skin but judging by how Soap was reacting, they must be unpleasant. He was a being of smoke and darkness rather than human. It was for the best that no one knew how human he was under everything. “I murdered monsters. It’s your fault they roam free. I’m just cleaning up the trash.”
Soap tsked. “Such messy morals.”
“Morals? Morals? Are you serious? You let these freaks get back out and hurt more people. Children. Animals. Innocent people. And you think it’s better to let them out? They prove time and time again they won’t change and you insist they will.” 
Soap stared at him blankly and Ghost wondered if he had just tuned him out entirely. “So our lea-”
“I will not be joining any leagues or organizations. I’m already going to have to move thanks to you.”
Soap tapped his fingers against each other for a moment. “I’m not going to tell anyone. But can you just consider it? I think you’d be a good fit.”
“You just said my morals were messy.”
“I did. But a lot of these people can be rehabilitated.”
“How many people have to die while we wait for one of them to heal?” Ghost asked as he started to make himself tea. 
Soap didn’t answer. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. But… even if you won’t join the league, I see no reason we can’t be friends, ya know?”
Ghost glared at him hard. “Get fucked. I won’t help you. I don’t need your help. I work alone.”
Soap smiled. “Well…” He pulled out a business card and put it on the table. “Just in case.”
Ghost waited until Soap disappeared to look at the business card. He faltered when he actually looked at it. 
All of the heroes had business cards. It included their names, a small rundown of their powers and what league they were a part of if they were a part of any. 
This was not that. 
“John MacTavish”
His actual name. 
Along with his contact information and his address. 
Ghost was a little stunned but he decided to keep the card. He doubted he’d ever need it, but if Soap ever revealed his little flat to anyone, he could spread his information just as fast.
———
Soap was making himself coffee a few weeks later. He had been keeping tabs on Ghost. It was his job. His team even encouraged it. 
After the first week though, he didn’t bother to kid himself. He knew this wasn’t because of duty. Soap did not spend over an hour watching Ghost grocery shop for the greater good. 
Soap didn’t call it stalking. Stalking implied he watched him constantly and he really didn’t. Just when he had a little spare time, he’d use a tiny tiny bit of his reality bending powers to watch what Ghost was doing. He’d usually use mirrors or his phone and it felt almost like a tv show. 
Soap never saw his face. Not just because Ghost constantly wore a mask, but he blurred it. Don’t get him wrong, he’d look in an instant if it was almost anyone else. There’s a reason most super villians never kept their secret identities for long. But with Ghost… it felt wrong. It felt like cheating. 
Ghost was funny. He’d rescue kittens from trees, buy little kids balloons, and seemed to have a thing for gardenias but he never bought them. Just looked at them. 
Soap had been trying to stop. Besides the ethics, his team was starting to notice how much he watched Ghost and he knew if they saw the depth of it, they’d figure it out. Plus Ghost hadn’t done anything bad recently. As far as they could tell, he was laying low. Possibly moving. 
As if he knew Soap was no longer watching, Ghost appeared in his dreams. Usually the dreams were… Soap didn’t know how to describe them. They weren’t nightmares. Certainly not wet dreams despite Gaz’s teasing. Too fragmented and they always left him empty and sometimes… sad. 
Soap had never met a material he couldn’t rip through. Except Ghost. Whatever that living smoke was made of, it had to be indestructible.
He sighed and drank more coffee, trying to tell himself not to watch his favorite tv show. He had managed all week. Just a few more hours and he’d hit it. 
Something hit his door. It sounded… weirdly wet. He sighed and opened it. He wasn’t dressed as a superhero luckily and no one besides his team should know where he lived. 
And there he was. His object of obsession. 
Ghost looked at him, blood dripping down from a wound on his stomach. Soap couldn’t really see it, the smoke was wrapped so tight around him and it hit him suddenly that he was holding the wound together. 
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.” 
Soap quickly ushered him inside and sat him down on his couch. “Why aren’t you healing?”
Ghost frowned. “I don’t have super healing. Sorry to disappoint.”
“So when Captain Price threw you off that building last week you were actually hurt?” Soap asked sarcastically. That made no sense. No one without super healing would fight them so regularly. 
“Yes. That’s why i was taking it easy this week. He bruised my ribs. I nearly fractured some bones in my legs apparently. I thought i was good to go though…” Ghost adjusted himself. “Look, if you can’t help, maybe i should go. I can leave.”3
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blackreaderfics · 7 months
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🎃Wildcard | Jason Todd x Reader🎃
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↳ Pairing : TitansDCverse!Jason Todd x Virgin!Reader
↳ Rating : E (18+ minors dni‼️)
↳ Summary : A round of Cards Against Humanity gets a little wild during “Game Night” at Titans Tower
↳ W.C : ~3.4k
↳ A/N : welcome to spooky season. this is my first ever fic for kinktober🧡👻 idk if this is controversial buuut I love that actor’s portrayal of Jason🫣
↳ Tags + Warnings: dubcon elements, oral (male receiving), face-fucking, orgy, stripping, degradation (“slut”), coercion, alcohol consumption (beer), teabagging, bullyish!jason x shyish!reader, reader wears glasses, reader is a virgin, jason is kinda a dickhead lol, side characters (rachel, rose, gar, and conner) are there, for sake of convenience they’re all 21+
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“Oh come on,” Jason groaned exasperatedly as you set your glasses on the coffee table. “Glasses don’t fucking count!”
After a successful mission and saving the world for the hundredth time, the Titans decided to unwind in the best way they knew how: a night in with board games and beer.
As usual, Jason had tried to make the games a little bit more exciting by adding a “fun twist”. Jenga became a drinking game; drink if you make the tower fall. Uno had become “draw or dare”, you could choose to draw four cards or get off scot-free by doing a dare. 
The “grownups” of the team—Dick, Kory, Hank, and Dawn— had excused themselves to do “grownup things” leaving you and the remaining group of young adults in the living room. Currently, you were now in the middle of another particularly heated game of Cards Against Humanity, the interesting twist being the person with the best card could choose for someone to strip an article of clothing.
Jason had been targeting you the whole night; teasing you for the baggy clothes you always wore. Purposely, just to annoy him, you’d only taken off your accessories and your zip-up hoodie.
Admittedly the clothes you wore didn’t really fit you right. You’d opted to wear oversized sweaters over fitted shirts, and unflattering pants over a more hip-hugging and slimming fit. Before you became a Titan, you were shyer than you were now. It had only been recently when you started to come out of your shell and get closer to your teammates. 
“Be for real. Glasses do so count!” You retorted. You had all but discarded your outer layers and were now left in pants and a tank top. You could take up a few turns with your socks and shoes if you needed to.
“Why do you guys wear so many layers?” Gar piped up. All he had on were his boxers and a single sock. Conner, who was sitting next to him, was equally fucked, only, with no socks as a buffer.
“Because we play idiotic games like this,” Rachel remarked dryly while drawing an extra card from the pile.
You and Rachel were the only ones currently safe from any unnecessary exposure. Rachel did wear a lot of layers, and despite having lost multiple rounds, still looked very much clothed. Rose sat far off on the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal looking on with about as much judgment as a girl with one working eye could. 
“You know, offer still stands. You can still join us, Rose,” Jason addressed the grey-haired, eye-patch-wearing girl without looking up from the cards in his hands.
“Hard pass. I’d rather watch you losers get destroyed.” She then unceremoniously returned to munching on her cornflakes.
Your gaze settled on Jason who’d shed his leather jacket and still remained in a plain black tee and jeans. He was unfairly attractive in the most basic of clothes. And though you hated his playground jibes and dirty humor, you couldn’t help but develop a little bit of a crush on the messy-haired boy. When his eyes caught yours, you could see the wheels in his brain practically turning as his smirk grew wider.
“How about…” He started slowly, “Boys versus girls. If you guys win, then we’ll get naked. If we win, you guys get naked.”
Of course he would suggest that, you thought to yourself glumly. The thought of showing your naked body to your crush didn’t excite you, it only made you more nervous.
“You’re just saying that ‘cuz you’re losing,” you said, masking your anxiety with a chug of your beer, “Conner’s literally only got his underwear left.” 
Conner, hearing his name, suddenly perked up. “For the record, I have x-ray vision. I can already see everything anywa—” Gar nudged him in the ribs to keep him from talking.
Jason shook his head. “It’s no fun if we already know who’s gonna win. Let’s vote on it then. Who here agrees to a wildcard match?” He raised his hand, and predictably the two other boys followed suit. “And who wants to play the way we’ve been playing; the boring virgin Y/N way?” He taunted cheekily.
You felt your cheeks warm again. He was never letting you live down the fact that you had confessed you were still a virgin during a past game of “Never Have I Ever”. You raised your hand and looked around for support. “Rachel,” you hissed desperately when you found she had not raised her hand. 
“Seriously? They suck at this game. It’s not like they’re gonna suddenly win out of nowhere," Rachel whispered back.
“In that case, I’ll play too,” Rose hopped off the counter and plopped on the couch next to you. 
“So nice of you to finally join us,” Jason crooned. “I’ll let you do the honors.” He passed her the deck he’d been shuffling for her to deal and sat back. 
After Rose had dealt all the cards, you looked at your hand. The deck you were playing with was a custom-made deck that Dick had ordered to round out the Tower’s impressive board game collection.
As a collective, you all pooled in ideas resulting in a deck of cards ranging from the peculiar to the mundane; from “taking shots off Nightwing’s ass”; to “Batman’s Worst Nightmare”; to names of each of your superhero aliases including all of the Justice League. For some reason, however, all the cards in your current hand were names.
“Make me laugh,” Rose ordered primly as she set down her card and folded her arms in expectation. It read: 
“If I could fuck anyone right now, I would fuck ______”
“Damn,” Rachel sounded impressed, “that’s certainly one way to start a round.”
Gar immediately threw his card down, followed by Rachel, then Jason. Only Conner and you were left.
“Time’s ticking Y/N,” Jason tapped a nonexistent watch on his wrist. Usually you would fire a comeback at him, but this time you could only frown as you chose your safest option and slid it tentatively over to the pile in the middle. 
“Time’s up, Conner,” Rose said as she gathered the cards. He passed it over face down, obviously not very happy about his choice. 
“Okay, we have a ‘Wonder Woman’,  a ‘Poison Ivy’….” She glanced around the room to see if anyone would give themselves away. “A ‘Robin’—wait...” She barked out a laugh. “I can’t not address this. I pick this one. Who fucking put down Robin?”
The room erupted into fits of laughter rivaling a high school classroom as they watched you sigh and bashfully raise your hand. 
“Oh, would you now?” Jason raised a curious eyebrow at you. 
“I-in my defense, there’s more than one Robin,” you sputtered pitifully before he could tease you further. You watched him stand up and begin to raise his shirt, giving you an eyeful of v-line and toned midriff. “W-what are you doing! I didn’t pick you!” 
Despite being only in a tank top, you felt yourself getting hot. Gar and Conner had equally toned bodies, but they weren’t affecting you the way Jason had been. Just to spite you, he kept his eyes on yours as he raised his shirt as suggestively as possible, bringing it up over his head and tossing it in a pile on his leather jacket.
“Just giving the person who wants to ‘fuck me right now’ a little preview.” He said, smile smug like he was doing charity for letting you see his 6-pack. 
Yea, real fucking Mother Theresa.
“Well, too bad I can barely see it.” You waved a hand in front of your face, “No glasses remember?”
“Come sit on my lap, mama, I’ll give you a closer look.” Jason plopped back on the sofa, abs flexing as he reclined with his legs spread wide, inviting you to sit with a pat on his thigh and a wicked smirk to match.
“Ugh, gross,” Rose made a face but appeared to be humored by Jason’s antics. 
“Anyway,” you interrupted desperately trying to change the subject. “Since I won, technically that means the girls won too. Rules are rules.” 
You had barely even finished your sentence when the boys immediately moved to take off their clothes. Your mouth went dry as they sat nonchalantly before you now, cocks resting against their stomachs.
In any other situation, you’d probably find this extremely inappropriate. They were your teammates. Sure, you lived together and had walked in on the occasional member changing or just getting out of the shower, but you were a bit buzzed off of the booze already, and this was different— you couldn’t help but stare.
“So uh…what now?” Gar’s nervous laugh broke the silence and everyone turned towards him; he blushed under the newfound attention.
“New game?” Conner suggested. He appeared to be just as clueless as Gar but with less of the blushing.
Rose looked over at you and Rachel for guidance, but seeing as neither of you knew how to react, the grey-haired girl merely shrugged back at the boys. “I’m down.”
“Ok, new game,” Jason agreed. “If you can make all of us cum in 10 minutes then the girls can get TV remote control privileges for the rest of the year.”
“All of you including Conner?” You asked brow raised, “He’s a super, that’s not fair.”
“What? It’s not like he has ‘super cum control’ too.”
“Actually, yea I—”
“Don’t answer that,” Jason cut in, annoyed. “Ok fine, I’ll give a handicap. If you can make one of us cum in 5 minutes untouched then the TV’s all yours.”
“Do you think we’re stupid, Todd?” Rachel narrowed her eyes at him. 
“Well…” He paused and tapped a finger to his chin to consider Rachel’s rhetorical question, flinching playfully when she raised her fist to jab in his direction. “Ok ok, but 5 minutes is a long time!”
“I meant the untouched part.”
“Your handicap is you can’t touch us, and our handicap is Logan.” He jabbed a thumb to gesture at Gar who looked like he was meditating to calm himself down. “He’ll probably reach the big ‘O’ before he reaches nirvana.”
“Deal, but if it’s gonna be like that then let’s raise the stakes a little.” Rose countered. “Not just remote control privileges. We get control privileges. Over you guys. If we win, you have to do whatever we say for the rest of the year.”
Jason fished his phone out from the pocket of his jacket and set the timer for 5 minutes. “And if we win, the same for us too.” He started the timer and sat back.
You, Rachel, and Rose made a beeline for Gar, who’d still had his eyes squeezed closed in the middle of the sofa.
“Fuckin’ hell, I should’ve known you’d try ‘n cheat,” Jason grumbled and stopped the timer. “No double or triple-teaming. One to one only and I get to choose the pairs.”
“And why should you be the one to choose that?” You turned toward him, trying (and failing) not to look at his dick. It was long and thick, with a slight curve and a pretty pink color at the tip.
“‘Cuz you wanna fuck me so bad,” he simpered, an impish grin playing on his lips.
“Oh god,” You rolled your eyes.
“Let him choose,” Rose challenged unfazed at Jason’s constant goalpost moving. “Whatever strategy he thinks he has isn’t gonna work.”
Jason ignored her and carried on with making the pairs. “Rachel and Conner, Rose and Gar.” He pointed directly at you, “You and me.”
Upon his directions, the three of you moved to stand in front of your now-designated partners. Finally satisfied, Jason set the timer again and pressed start. Almost immediately Rachel and Rose set to work on their mission, stripping their clothes down to their underwear. You tentatively followed suit, shimmying out of your jeans and kicking them aside. Jason eyed you, fully reclined in his seat with his hands comfortably behind his head. 
“Well, this is gonna be easier than I thought,” He yawned, looking as nonchalant as ever. 
“I doubt your porn-addled brain has ever seen a real woman before, Jason.” The taunts you directed at him should’ve sounded more confident, but instead were dulled by your nervous fidgeting at the hem of your shirt. 
This was the first time you’d ever been half-naked in front of a boy. And not just any boy, but a boy you liked. But the way he always seemed to tease you and make sexually insensitive jokes at your expense made you anxious. It wasn’t overt bullying, but the little comments he would sneak here and there were beginning to eat at you. If you showed him any more of your body, would he make fun of you even more?
“Trust me, I’ve seen plenty,” He assured, “But how ‘bout you jog my memory and demonstrate?” His gaze moved down your chest and back up to your eyes, daring you to take it off. 
You fidgeted again under his stare, feeling a sensation growing in the pit of your stomach. It was a mix of anxiety, embarrassment, and something else you could quite place. When you glanced over to the other pairs, Rachel had already taken her top off and Rose was in the middle of a strip tease. 
“Four minutes,” Jason announced, with a bored expression. 
Feeling a sense of urgency, you pulled off your tank top, exposing your lacy bra. When his dick twitched, both your eyes shifted to the hardening situation in his lap. You could see him fighting the urge to touch himself now, and that gave you a burst of confidence. 
Rachel and Rose were now in between Gar and Conner’s legs, not touching them, but teasing them by blowing hot air on their cocks. You followed suit, with only three minutes left you had to do something. After all, forfeiting your will to the whims of three boys with raging hormones didn’t seem like a fun idea, especially since you knew how playfully vindictive they could get. They’d probably try and make you human furniture or whatever other sick and twisted thing they could think of. You shuddered at the thought of the kind of torture they could come up with.
You sank to your knees and sat between Jason’s legs. You watched him involuntarily swallow and sit up straighter, pulling his hands down from his head to steady himself and clutch at the couch cushion beneath him. 
“Three minutes,” Jason glanced at his phone, but he wasn’t as confident as he was before. If anything, he seemed much more distracted by your presence at his feet.
Satisfied with his change in demeanor, you only smiled at him, fluttering your lashes at him as you brought your mouth closer to his balls. You opened your mouth and exhaled softly.
He hastily brought a hand to his cock—beads of precum already spilling from its tip—and made minute motions with the pad of his thumb to calm himself down. His chest raised with shallow breaths as he looked down at you now, eyes heavily lidded with lust and wanting. 
“Fuck it—” He hissed and without warning, reached his other hand around the back of your head, pushing your nose into his balls as he began to jerk off. Your eyes widened, taken by surprise at his sudden actions.
From where you were kneeling you could already see Rachel and Rose giving their partners full-on blowjobs, completely forgetting the game they had agreed to earlier. The sensation in your stomach moved down to your clothed sex, and you could feel a tingling sensation as he rubbed your face obscenely against his balls, moaning with need.
“Open your mouth —oh fuck— please.” His voice sounded strangled as he held you at the base of his cock, masturbating desperately to chase his release.
You obliged his request, opening up and taking his balls into your mouth, looking up at him as you felt his grip on the nape of your neck tighten. He was clearly getting off from the sight of you beneath him, massaging thoroughly with the flat of your tongue. He brought your head back and, with his other hand, held his cock by the base. 
He groaned again when he saw your lips now glossy with spit. “Open f’me again, baby?” he asked despite the fact that the tip of his cock was already being pressed to your lips. Your cheeks warmed as he let out a moaning “fuuuck” when you opened your mouth again to allow him inside. He pushed your head down deeper to take all of him in, and your eyes began to water as the tip of his cock grazed the back of your throat. 
“You don’t know how fucking pretty you look with my cock in your mouth, Y/N,” he murmured, releasing the pressure off your head for you to catch your breath. He let out a short laugh as if your gasping for air was funny to him.
“Had no idea you were such a fucking slut under all those clothes. How’re you a virgin when you’re takin’ my cock this good, hm?” His voice was gentle and soft but borderline condescending as he spoke. 
Jason brushed away a tear from your eye and leaned over to bring you into an open-mouthed and sloppy kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. A string of saliva connected at both of your lips when you separated. 
“Gonna fuck that pretty little mouth of yours. Keep it open,” He instructed. Within seconds he was guiding your head back on his cock, bucking up into your mouth and against your throat. You made a garbled sound, which only seemed to make him thrust harder. 
“Oh fu— that’s so fuckin’ good, baby keep doin’ that,” he moaned, though you weren’t doing much except letting your head loll up and down like a brainless doll with the support of his hand at the back of your neck. 
The living room was now filled with the pleasured moans of the three boys and the gagging ‘gluck gluck’ sounds of the three girls as each of them fucked into your mouths, getting off on the lewdly slick sounds of their cocks pistoning in and out in a relentless rhythm. Your mouths became just another hole for them to fuck.
“Shit—” His hips stuttered; he was close. He brought both hands to your head pushing it down so your nose pressed against his base. “You know how to swallow right, baby?” He grunted. 
You couldn’t respond with words readily—your nose was plugged and his cock clogged your windpipe— instead, your throat closed over his tip, as if a Pavlovian response to his question. He groaned and not shortly after, you felt his hot cum shooting down your throat. 
When his softening cock finally left your mouth, you swallowed his sticky release as best as you could with your punished throat. He swiped some of the cum the had dribbled down your lips with his thumb and pushed it past your lips, making you suck it. 
“You’re so fucking hot,” he said breathlessly as he watched you suck his thumb, mesmerized by the way your eyes locked on him. A loud moan from Gar interrupted, making both you and Jason tear your eyes off each other. The green-haired boy was currently stroking his cum onto Rose’s waiting tongue. About a minute later, Conner came too. 
It was only then that you realized that Jason had come the fastest; faster than the “handicap” he’d claimed Gar to be.
“So…I’m guessing that means we won?” Rachel had already started pulling her clothes back on. Since she started dressing, everyone else mundanely followed suit. 
Jason tugged his jeans back on, “Sure. Fine. Whatever, we’re all yours for the next three months,” he sounded less than enthused but still took the time to find your discarded tank top and jeans and toss them over to you as well.
Rose threw her shirt back on and adjusted her eyepatch. “Girls, what are we thinking? Anything we want our new servants to do for us?”
“Hmm…” You tapped your chin in mock thought, giving Jason a sly look that could give one of his own cheeky smirks a run for its money. “Oh, I‘ve got a few ideas.”
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©️ blackreaderfics // dividers by cafekitsune & poison-aesthetics
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AITA for writing a paragraph on how I want to drop my friends?
(15F for ref, everyone in here is also F and around the same age)
In 2022, I returned from a six-week camp session with friends I only see once a year (pretty shitty experience ngl, but I still had fun), A couple days later, they accused me of stealing this girl's shirt since I was the last one to wear it. I told her I didn't and I wouldn't. I had a similar steal it because. They proceed to accuse me, so to get out my feelings I write this lengthy paragraph in my notes app expressing my thoughts and what I don't like about the group. This never gets sent out, and we stay friends.
In 2023, they went to camp again (for the last eligible year so it was very special to them), but I stayed home due to pre-existing commitments. This was also the time when the notes app trend was going on, a.k .a. where people would post their notes app and all the antics they wrote. I also posted a video like this, and on the sixth slide, I put the paragraph that I wrote in 2022 (it said 2022 at the top). They didn't immediately see this because they weren't allowed to have their phones, but I private the video before they got back due to a mental health issue I had accidentally aired out. At this time, I saw nothing wrong with the paragraph being included because all the issues had blown over.
A couple months later, I un-privated the video because YOLO and the group found it and immediately got hated on so hard for the video. They post pictures of me to social media stories write paragraphs about how awful of a person I am, create lies about me, and comment on all of my Tiktok posts where I talk about the issue, despite me being vague.
I don't know where I stand in this issue because yeah, I didn't go to the trip this year, and the paragraph was admittedly rude, but they didn't even give me a chance to explain, and getting body shamed on a private Snapchat story when they know I had an ED isn't something i think I deserve, but I need outsider perspective.
The paragraph for reference:
I’m sorry but I can’t do this anymore. The whole entire time I was at camp I felt isolated because I was not as involved and as social with the boys as you guys were/are, and that might not be your fault, but you guys have no care in that being the only thing you discuss on this group chat. Every time I text about something else, it always gets pushed to the side and now you are accusing me of stealing (name)’s top. I agree, I was the last on to wear it, but distinctly remember throwing it back into (name)'s trunk. I am sorry it did not make the trip back home, but it is not my fault. I don’t want your slutty top anyways, I only borrowed it because my ebb to street wasn’t going to work. I have done so much for you guys, like letting everyone borrow my clothes, giving away my lululemon, and while some of my pieces were stolen, I am not pointing fingers at random people because I have control of my feelings. So many words have been wasted protecting the reputation of Cabin 10 from others who think you guys are attention-seeking whores (you want names? It’s the whole fucking camp), and everyone looked at me in pity when I cried into my hands because I was so sad. I have heard you guys talk shit about me in front of my face (*giggling and whispering* Are you going to try out for the play? No that’s weird. Both heads turn towards me, and laughter erupts out of the two mouths. You know who you are), and you guys have talked shit about each other to me, so I can only imagine what has been said about me. I felt ashamed about my passions, the only personality trait you guys addressed was that I was so mean and I was smart (you only revealed the latter on in private, the former was told to everyone). I am done feeling horrible about myself because you guys are so wrapped up in what every (camp) boy thinks of you, so I am cutting contact. You have ruined my camp experience to the point where I am not coming back.
What are these acronyms?
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theworldissocool13 · 1 month
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i can’t be the only one who thinks the response to the whole situation with wilbur was so strange. saying you hope his mental health gets worse is such a weird way to respond because unless he has a chance to truly become a better person, the cycle is just going to continue and he’s going to hurt more people. there’s no reason to sugar coat it, you can tell by his solo music that he struggles with very bad mental illness and it’s pretty clear that he has some kind of addiction and if you’ve struggled with either of those things you know a) how debilitating it is and b) how easy it is to hurt those around you when you’re in that state. if you really care about victims, you would not be enabling him to hurt more people by saying you hope he gets worse.
you cannot say you’re a mental health advocate nor that you support victims if you wish an unstable man becomes more unstable. this is not me excusing wilbur’s actions, nor trying to explain them away but instead giving an explanation FOR them.
i have struggled with debilitating mental illness, i hurt myself and those around me and fucked up my life and had i not gotten help i would’ve continued hurting more people and eventually i would’ve taken my own life. this is not me supporting wilbur or trying to excuse his actions, but not only does no one deserve the kind of hate he has been getting, the world would truly be a better place if instead of wanting everyone we don’t like to die, we encouraged people to actually get better and find happiness. people have been talking about him as if he has no feelings, as if he’s not a person, and that’s just not right. people are not black and white and neither is morality and we have no insight into his perspective.
i am so proud of shelby for speaking up because that takes a lot of bravery and i fully condemn what wilbur did, there is no excuse, and she is under absolutely no obligation to forgive him regardless of whether he changes or not. i genuinely wish shelby nothing but the best, a lifetime full of happiness and love. tbh this post is not about her, it’s about the fans who responded the way they did. for anyone reading this, if you ever hurt people when you’re at your lowest, i truly hope people treat you with more empathy and understanding than they treated wilbur with.
and in terms of the statement he put out, yes it was shit but he is in a band that is definitely in some kind of contract with his record label. of course they will stop him from saying anything beyond purely addressing that he’s seen the allegations, they do not want to risk getting sued by saying something that could be used against them.
i really think we should treat others with more love, respect, and care, than i’ve seen many people doing recently because at the end of the day we all only get one go on earth, this is everyone’s first time living, and we all deserve a chance to be truly happy. i hope you all have the grace to look to the people around you and be kind to them, not because they’ve proved they deserve it, but because kindness is the most valuable thing we can give to others.
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