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#I kept fighting it but I just kept feeling scared and lost and I just gave up last night
angelltheninth · 2 months
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What Goes Down in the Forest
Pairing: Male Forest!Monster x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, predator/prey dynamic, fear play, biting, size difference, creampie, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, rough sex, brat taming
Word count: 1.7k
A/N: It's raining right now so that puts me in a monster loving mood.
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It was you who suggested this little game to him. The forest was his domain, he knew it like the back of his hand, moved through it seamlessly, with out any issue. And then there was you, you who kept tripping on logs, getting caught on crunches, slipping on the dirt all the while looking behind you to make sure you put enough distance between you and the tall monster chasing you.
To make sure you didn't get too lost he marked the trees you passed by every now and then. You didn't have to be scared of getting lost and even if you did you could rest assured he would bring you back home safe and sound.
"What are you so afraid of then?" The voice came from somewhere behind you. "Is is just adrenaline pumping through your veins that's making your heart beat so fast?" You heard him chuckle, "You don't smell very afraid to me. Horny little human, getting your kicks from something like this. I knew I chose right."
The trees and the wind carried and obscured his voice, still making it impossible to know how close he was. This forest, you learned, worked how he wanted it to.
Everything in here was his. Including you.
You stepped back without looking, your foot catching on the thick tree roots. You yelped, expecting a hard hit. Instead you felt strong arms wrap around you, shielding you from impact. "Are you alright?" His voice calmed you, as deep as it was.
You meet his eyes, deep green in a sea of stormy gray, filled with worry. In his forest you were under his protecting, just like everything else. "Pet, are you hurt anywhere?"
"Ah, no. I'm alright. Thank you for saving me. That... that was lame." You ducked away from his gaze only for one big, clawed hand to cup your cheek. His lips, and upper fangs, pressed against your lips, soothing your worried, "Did I ruin the mood?"
"Does it seem like you did? Look." He gazed down to his cock, still very hard between his legs, aching to be inside you. "I want you, clumsiness and all." He assured you in-between kisses. "Can you run for me again? Put up a fight for me? Or shall I take you as you are? You smell more then ready enough." His hands grabbed both of your hips and lifted you up, his nose pressing against your pants and breathing in the horny scent between your legs.
As much as you wanted to give in right now he just asked you to run for him. So you will run, you will fight and you will get him to rut into you until you can't walk.
You pushed on his slightly curved, dark green horns, feeling the intertwined branches and leaves under your fingers. They wrapped around his horns and his head like a crown, almost giving him an air of royalty, or a god. Truth be told you still don't know if he's either of those. All you knew was that he was the protector of this place.
Gripping his horns tight you wrestled his head away which elicited a deep groan from him. He snarled at you when you kicked him away and started running again, in any direction your legs carried you in.
Before you knew it you were out of breath again. Panting you leaned against a tree. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" The tree had claw marks on it! How the hell did you get turned around?! Was this a trick? He did say he liked to toy with his prey.
Or he somehow ran ahead of you and marked this tree before you got to it. Which meant you needed to run back. Unless that's what he wanted you to think! He was playing mindgames with you, and you weren't in the mood. The blood was not going to your brain at this time.
Two strong hands gripped you from behind the tree, one on your mouth, muffling your screams, the other around your hip, keeping you pinned. "Kicking me in the face? Brave human." His voice was now next to your ear. It was then that you realized that the voice and the arms wasn't coming from behind the tree but from inside it. A male body pushed itself from the bark, stepping next to you but your hands and mouth were still pinned, still closed.
He could do that?
As he looked at you in that helpless state he smirked, his pointy teeth catching your eye, "I'll have you know I've killed people for far less." He tilted his head as he bent closer, his eyes roaming across your body. "Lucky for you, I value the pleasure you provide."
"Do you? Because I haven't gotten any in a while. What would you do if I ended our contract?" You smiled at him, watching his cock stir in protest. "Who would fuck you then? You'd have to wait for some other poor human to get lost in here. But if you can make me feel good now, I might reconsider." The truth was you could do this, if you were an asshole or didn't love your boyfriend. But this was part of your game, you egged him on, wanting to see how he would react.
"And you think I would allow you to walk out of my life just like that after I made you mine? Everything in this forest is mine from the moment it steps foot in. That includes you, my pretty human cocktoy." His hand lazily stroked his cock as he approached you. "I decide if you leave here walking, or carried in my arms, with my cock still inside you. And since you don't seem to understand that I will have to remind your cunt who truly owns it."
His nails turned into sharp black claws and tore through your pants. The cold air hit you immediately. You watched as the green of his eyes eclipsed almost all of the gray.
"Wet and ready. Just how I want you." He growled as he grabbed your leg and pushed it up, revealing your dripping pussy to him. "There it is. My prize."
Rough hands held both your legs open as his cock pushed inside with single smooth stroke. His own pre-cum made it easier then ever before, you could already feel his seed coating your inner walls. "I love how you split me open with your cock." You had to get used to the size, the thickness, the slight structure of it that dragged and stimulated your pussy with every thrust.
His horns grew at your praise, hips pushing closer until they were flush against your own. "I love how well you take me. As if you were made only for me. My cock. My seed. My offspring. Yes... I should... maybe if I put a damn bastard child in your womb you'll see how much you love me."
Your back arched and pussy squeezed around him immediately. You didn't have to say you wanted it now, your body was doing it all for you. "Are you sure it's possible?"
"I will make it possible." He snarled. He pulled back until only the tip remained and then slammed in at full force. Again. And again. And again. "My seed will take." The truth was you were pretty sure it was quite difficult between you two. If you could have gotten pregnant easily you would already be pregnant. He hated condoms. "I'll make you swell with it."
As his pace increased the forest echoed with your moans, the wet pussy squelches, skin slapping against skin, the sound of wood being broken and healed. You pulled against the rough bark around your wrists, aching to get closer to your lover.
His claws dug into your meaty thighs, marking you once again.
It wasn't enough for him. No mark was ever enough for him. As soon as one healed he put a new one in his place. "Tell me you accept it, human. Tell me how much your womb wants my seed." He pushed in all the way, letting you feel his cock pulsing inside you, then pulled out, in and out, deep and long strokes that made your breath hitch. "Tell me!"
The booming voice made your body flinch and your cunt spasm around him. "Fuck! Don't stop now, keep fucking my pussy! It feels good, I-" You whimpered, taking in a quick breath.
He wasn't calming down, wasn't letting your orgasm end, pistoning in and out of you and clenching his teeth to hold his own orgasm back until you told him you wanted it.
"I want you to put a baby in me. Fuck me. Breed me full of your cum. Make sure every human, animal and demon knows it was you who got me pregnant, that it's your kid I'm carrying." The forest itself shook and awoke with his deep, guttural roar. "Right in there, right in my pussy, fuck it all in."
"Not a drop will go to waste." He promised as his hips came to a stop against yours, his arms finding the small of your back as your legs wrapped around his broad hips, feeling the soft fur starting at his hips and running down his legs. It was soft and sticky with cum. It should have been gross, but you loved how it was evidence of your love making. Simultaneously the bark around your aching, bruised wrists dissolved, which allowed you to wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your hands into the long black hair that run to his shoulders. "You know I love you. I truly do wish to have a family."
"Maybe it'll work this time. If not we can always keep trying." His forehead pressed against yours, "Hey, even if we can't I won't think less of you. You're the love of my life. And it's not like you see couples like us in nature a lot."
"Nature is supposed to bend to my will. At least in here." His nose brushed against yours, "Let me carry you home."
"Okay. But don't pull out yet. I'm comfy." He chuckled at your cuddly nature. He shared it, so he couldn't blame you. When he walked with you he left new flowers everywhere his foot stepped.
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yawnderu · 4 months
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"Quit lookin' at me like that." He demands, accent growing thicker by the minute at his frustration.
"Like what?" You manage to gasp out, cheeks swollen and bloody at the beating you just took. Your hands are clasped together on your lap, forced to sir on your knees as you look up at him.
What stared back at you wasn't your loving Simon, no— this creature was much different. Ghost was glaring down at you, eyes cold and devoid of emotion other than pure, raw anger.
"Like a fuckin' lost puppy. Like you don't know what you did." His grip on the trigger tightens, holding the muzzle to your temple.
Please, tell me it isn't true. For the love of God, tell me it's all a lie.
"You leaked our information to fuckin' Konni?" He asks in disbelief, just wanting to confirm what he knew all along. It all connected once he found out; the late night escapades, the detached look in your eyes, how you kept missing every single celebration with the team claiming you were busy. Maybe if he noticed sooner, things would have been different.
Your silence and the way your head hangs low in shame is all the confirmation he needs. His gloved hand grips the pistol harder, the rough material almost merging with his skin.
You don't even have the courage to look at me.
"Everythin' we did together... I trusted you with my bloody life. I told you all my secrets and let you see all of me, and this is how you fuckin' pay me?" He doesn't even wait for an answer, three silenced gunshots ringing in his ears as he dumps the bullets into your chest, looking away before he hears the familiar thud of a body hitting the ground.
Goddammit. God damn it all to fucking hell.
Simon chokes on a harsh breath, the corners of his mouth twisting into a frown underneath his balaclava, jaw slackening. He doesn't dare look at you, unwilling to let his last image of you be a pool of blood with dead eyes.
He cried all his tears when he was a little kid, yet he can somehow feel the familiar sting in his eyes, causing him to sigh loudly and shake his head. His pistol goes back in its holster as he turned to leave, not sparing you a single glance.
Dying alone is a scary thought. You come to the world in a room full of people, your mother's happy face looking at her own creation, nurses and doctors smiling and celebrating you even when all your tiny body can do is to cry.
The thought of death isn't what scares you, no. Being a soldier for the special forces only ends two ways: retirement or going home in a box. That's something you came to terms with a long time ago, when your much younger hand held the pen, signing the contract that sold your soul to your comrades, a silent eternal promise of "we fight together, and we die together".
Your shaky hands grasp at the snow as you drag yourself forward, gear all of sudden heavier than ever; crushing you down like Atlas holding the sky. Your blood leaves a dirty trail on the pure, clean snow, marking you down as an easy target if Simon decides to come back for you— you know Ghost won't.
By the time someone manages to find you, your fingers are purple and your lips are painted an awful shade of blue, body adorned with burns from the cold snow digging into your bare skin. You allow yourself to rest as soon as the warmth of someone's hand makes contact with your skin, barely able to register the panicked scream and loud orders being barked.
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Labeled as a hero after saving the country from Makarov's terrorist attack, Simon sported a new brand of chest candy on his uniform. Colorful ribbons adorned the right side of his blazer. His chest is still puffed out with pride as he steps into his small flat in London, all memories of you thrown away, including the ring he kept hidden in a drawer.
''Cute shoulder pads.'' Your finger hovers above the trigger, finally stepping out of the dark.
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7ndipity · 7 months
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When He Thinks You’re Gone
Jungkook x Reader
Summary: When You and Jk have a fight before he has to leave for promotions, he wants to assume that you can fix things when he returns. But what if your things are gone when he gets back?
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Angst, Mentions of reader being sick(nothing detailed tho)
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this!
Masterlist
Requests are open
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“Well if that’s how you feel, then maybe you should just stay at your own place!”
The final words he’d spoken to you last night kept rolling around in his head as he stared out the plane window, waiting for take off, guilt blooming heavily in his gut.
Fighting with you before having to leave for a week was not how he’d wanted your last night to go at all. He couldn’t even understand how things had escalated so suddenly; one minute you were telling him about your frustrations about him being gone so much recently, the next both of you were yelling and saying things you didn’t mean and he was storming off to the bathroom.
He knew he shouldn’t have lost his temper the way he had, he was just stressed with the comeback and frustrated, feeling like he wasn’t doing enough, and your words had been the badly timed final straw.
By the time he’d returned to the bedroom, you were already asleep, or at least pretending to be, he didn’t check, laying down facing away from you and falling asleep without a word.
The next morning, he’d left early before you’d even woke up, choosing not to risk pushing things further on the way out.
Shaking his head at himself, he fished his phone out of his pocket, sending you a short text.
“I’m sorry about last night, we’ll talk when I get back. See you next week, I love you.”
Sighing, he sat back in his seat, not feeling any better.
Over the next few days, his sense of unease over the incident continued to grow, his only contact from you coming in the form of flat, often single worded texts. He knew you were still
upset with him, and he couldn’t blame you, but he knew the two of you could sort everything out when he got home. Just a few more hours to go…
It was quiet as he entered the apartment, most of the lights off other than a few lamps.
“Y/n?” He called gently as he sat his things down, Bam appearing from down the hall and bounding over happily to greet him
“Heya, buddy.” He said softly, kneeling to give the dog a few pats and scratches, still glancing around for any sign of you. “Where’s your other parent, huh?”
When he straightened back up, he headed for your shared bedroom, thinking that since it was kinda late, maybe you were already in bed. As he pushed the door open though, he felt his stomach drop as he scanned the space, finding no sign of you and realizing that your things were also no longer there.
Your charger on the nightstand, your clothes, even the fluffy throw blanket that you kept on your side of the bed were all missing.
“Well if that’s how you feel, then maybe you should just stay at your own place!”
The words echoed mockingly in his head as he stared around the suddenly sparse looking room. You wouldn’t have actually taken his stupid suggestion, would you? Without saying a word?
“Y/n?!” He called again, voice shaking.
“What?” His head whipped around at the muffled reply from the guest room across the hall.
Bolting across the landing, he pushed open the door to reveal a very tired looking you, curled into a ball in the bed, blinking back at the sudden light.
“Y/n! Oh thank god, I was so scared!” He moved forward, but you quickly raised a hand up to stop him.
“Stay away!”
“What?!” He froze, staring at you in confusion.
“I’m sick, the flu or something, and I don't want you to catch it, so please just stay away.” You croaked, pulling your shirt over the lower half of your face as a makeshift mask.
“I don’t care about the stupid flu!” He said, trying step closer, but you backed further across the bed. “Hold on.”
He ducked out of the room, coming back in less than a minute with a mask now covering his own face. “See? Now can I come closer?”
Reluctantly, you shrugged, which he took as an okay, coming over and carefully sitting down next you as he took in your appearance. You were pale, your eyes tired and heavy with dark circles under them, you looked like you hadn’t been eating well either.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked softly, feeling your forehead to check your temperature.
“You were busy.” You said stuffily, avoiding his eyes.
He frowned, not missing the lingering meaning behind your words, before getting up to make you some tea.
As he made his way to the kitchen, he noticed that the rest of the apartment seemed to be well looked after, despite your slightly fragile state, including Bam who was curled up next to you on the bed when Jungkook returned.
“Have you been the one taking him out for walks?” He asked, not able to imagine you keeping the massive dog reigned in in your current state.
You shook your head. “I called your usual service.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry.” He said suddenly.
“For what?”
“Everything. For saying what I said last week, for not being here when you needed me. Just, everything.”
You dropped your gaze. “I should be the one apologizing, I was being stubborn.”
“I still shouldn’t have reacted that way.” He said.
You held your pinkie out. “Truce?”
He chuckled, having almost forgotten your old solution to arguments when you’d first started dating.
“Truce.” He hooked his finger with yours, holding it for a moment before tugging you forward into a hug.
“I love you.” He mumbled against your hair.
“I love you too.”
For a few minutes, neither of you moved, until he insisted on moving your things back to his room so he could look after you, helping you get a shower before ordering you both some food.
The whole evening, his eyes never left you for more than a minute, seeming thoughtful but not saying what about until you were tucked back into the bed next to him, on the verge of sleep.
“Move in with me.”
Your eyes flew open as you looked up at him. “Excuse me?”
“I’m serious, I hate the whole back and forth from your place to mine.” His eyes never left yours, fingers traced patterns over your arm as he spoke. “Coming home and not being able to find you was one of the worst things I’ve ever felt, I don’t wanna experience that ever again.
"So, please, move in with me?” He asked, pressing a small kiss to your hand.
“Okay.” You whispered, swallowing back tears at his sweet words.
“Thank you.” He smiled, pulling you close again, both of you quickly falling asleep in each others embrace.
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scoutswritingcorner · 21 days
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Hello! Thoroughly enjoying your writings!! Deeeelish!! You are fantastically talented and we are so lucky as a fandom to have you!
What if during the battle between Adam and Alastor the reader jumped in front of Alastor and took the hit instead. Up until this point Alastor couldn’t put his finger on his feelings for the reader but seeing them badly hurt, and protecting him clicks it all into place.
Thank you for entertaining the thought!!
Fight For Me
Alastor x GN!Reader
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TW: Blood, Alastor being angry.
A/N: YOU ARE SO NICE IMMA CRY- IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT!
It wasn’t supposed to end up like this, you were supposed to be fighting the executioners with the others. You weren’t supposed to be up here with him and fighting this no good first man. As he collected you in his arms seeing the gash that ran from your stomach to your chest made his smile falter, he had already lost his microphone and now here he was about to permanently lose you. He couldn’t let that happen. Not yet. 
He ignored Adam as his shadows curled around the both of you and allowed him to quickly travel to his destroyed tower. Why would you protect him? He cursed himself as he ripped your shirt open, he was much more of gentleman than this but your fucking afterlife was on the line. Why did he care?  He snapped his fingers as his shadow slid a medical kit across the room, you were out cold so this could go easier, his shadow danced across the walls as he started to wipe as much blood as he could away. Tears stung at his eyes as his smile became tighter, threatening to pull at the hidden stitching. 
Throwing his jacket off to the side as it felt restricting, He could easily finish you off right now. Why does he care? As he carefully stitched the scar back up, he kept glancing up at your face, your heart beat was slowing down and it scared him. You better not fucking die on him, he couldn’t lose you not right now.  He’d tear Heaven down just to make sure you were safe and next to him, but why was he feeling this way? No one got him feeling..like this. He was scared. You are scaring him, get out of his head. Finishing up the last stitch he carefully draped his jacket over your body as he used his own legs as your pillow, he needed to keep your head propped up just in case.  PLEASE- Get up, you’re scaring him. You need to show him you're okay.
He doesn’t know how long he sat there but as soon as your eyes opened he felt a rush of relief wash over him, you were okay. His clawed hands cradled your face with a softness that was foreign to him as his lips pulled into a sneer, “What in the fuck were you thinking? Protecting me from a powerful blast such as that?!” He snarled, he didn’t mean to be so venomous but being scared was foreign to him. He didn’t like being vulnerable and yet he felt safe around you, he wanted to comfort and cradle you close after every day. You didn’t answer him just staring up into his ruby red eyes, “Answer me, damn it. Why? I could’ve taken the hit.” He continued as tears pricked and stung at his eyes. You were strong, yes, very strong. But he couldn’t lose you, he didn’t want to lose you. He hated this feeling. 
“Because..I’m in love with you, Al..” You whispered out and the truth set upon him like the sun's last ray of light. He was in love with you as well.  His sneer vanished as he leaned down closing his eyes as his forehead touched yours and he sobbed like he was a little boy who scraped his knee and ran home to his Mama. His clawed hands carefully caressing your cheeks trying to burn the feeling into his memory, “I love you..” the words fell out of his mouth as if he was back in the hospital watching his Mama slowly slip away. “I love you.”  He repeated this time with much more confidence but he was still apprehensive. 
“I love you, Alastor.” The words came out easy for you and he envied it but the way your gentle and soft hands cupped his made his undead heart skip a beat. But he didn’t need to be scared anymore, he had you with him. “Don’t pull that silly stunt again.”
A/N: THE AMOUNT OF TIMES I CRIED IS UNBELIEVABLE
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iamasaddie · 1 month
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moaning, panting
paring: Lucien Flores x f!reader rating: explicit warnings: explicit sexual content, fisting, dirty talk, not edited/beta-ed word count: 1,6 a/n: the thought came to my mind and then @covetyou cemented it with her interest <3 this is a surprise to me but now I kinda have a fisting fic masterlist
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“Fuck, no, Lucien, are you kidding me?” Your jaw dropped when the man that had just been eating you out for the last thirty minutes ascended from between your legs and asked you a truly terrifying question while still licking your cum off his lips. 
“Why not, bonita?” His face reflected a genuine surprise, thick eyebrows raising above the dark chocolate eyes.  
You propped yourself up on your elbows, meeting Lucien's gaze. He didn't break eye contact, forcing you to squeeze the words stuck in your throat out of yourself.
“It won’t… fit.” Heat rose from your quivering belly to your rising and falling chest, dragging the waves of embarrassment to your neck and cheeks.
“This thing?” Lucien chuckled, raising his right hand, three of his thick fingers were still glistening with your wetness and he sucked them all in his mouth. When he slowly released the digits now shiny with his spit, he let out an exaggerated moan. “You said the same thing about my dick and now there isn’t a hole in your body I didn’t fuck.” He kept a moment of silence and then corrected himself, “out of the classic ones, of course.”
Your thighs tensed through their relaxed state, the feeling barely there because of how good he made you feel moments ago. Hypothetically, you knew what your body was capable of, but in practice you were still terrified. Unfortunately, the curiosity already left the indents of its teeth on your brain. As scared as you were, the idea how far you could go thrilled you, and doing it with Lucien… well at least you knew you were in experienced hands, even if those same hands were the most frightening part.
“What if… it hurts?”
The succumbing notes in your voice painted a smile on Lucien’s face. His hands dropped on your thighs, kneading the soft meat in a calming gesture. 
“I will stop, immediately. No question.”
You hummed, and closed your eyes. Your lungs burned with the amount of air you tried to fill them with. In your head you were already fighting the shock of how easy it was to give in when his voice was so soothing, when his hands were so sure and knowing, when his tongue already drew circles around your tight nipples.
“Okay.” Your whisper was barely audible, lost in your exhale. 
“Good girl.”
His lips distracted you from his right hand that moved from your sternum to the curve of your belly, lower, where your pussy was molten lava. 
“If it makes you feel better,” Lucien murmured in your skin, “you’ve easily taken three before, and where’s three there’s four.”
He left a wet kiss on your collarbone and you felt his teeth sink into the tender skin at the same moment as three of his fingers entered you. Just like he said, without any problem. Your relaxed pussy welcomed him with lewd wet sounds and you wanted to hide your face but stopped yourself when you heard Lucien’s moan. He was never shy in bed. Never hid his pleasure. It made you addicted to him.
“Fuck, baby, your little sloppy pussy is more than ready to stretch wide for me,” his words stumbled upon each other in a hurry to get out in a filthy stream. “You’re so wet, amorcito, leaking all over my hand. At this rate we won’t even have to use lube.”
“W-wha—?”
“I’m kidding,” Lucien kissed your shoulder and pulled his fingers out. “Face down ass up, baby, let’s stretch that pussy.”
His hand left a wet stain on your left thigh as he slapped it while you were getting in the position obediently. It wasn’t a new one, so you made sure you were laying comfortably as Lucien rummaged the bedside table for lube, almost singing a happy “a-haa” as he clutched the pink bottle in his hand. 
You could almost feel his eyes on your fluttering hole, the wet folds heating up in anticipation. A gentle finger traced a single line between your lips, gathering cum mixed with arousal and patting your clit.
“You have the prettiest pussy in the world, baby. Looking at her is like looking at stars, or fire, I can never get tired of it.”
“Stop with your—“
Three fingers parting your silky malleable walls interrupted whatever you tried to say. It was a lot, it was always a lot with the size of every part of the man’s body, but it was also never bad. It was just right so you wondered if more would be too much. 
As if reading your thoughts, Lucien probed the edge of your stretched hole with his pinky. “So pretty,” his whisper was wet and trembling just like your core. A drop of sweat traveled from your temple down. You held your breath waiting for the sting that never came. There was just… tension. The same familiar stretch but more intense.
“Good?”
You lifted your head from the mattress and you looked between your legs getting an upside down view of Lucien’s thighs and hard cock.
“Yeah,” you panted, “good.”
His fingers moved inside you, flexing them together into a cone shape. The closer he got to the knuckles the more intense the stretch got. He patiently fucked you with the digits, placing his left hand on your clit to help you relax further. He was more than familiar with your body to press just the right buttons. Lucien’s knowing fingers danced tight circles around your pulsing clit while his other hand worked on stretching you more and more. Your thighs trembled, teeth sinking in your lower lip until the copper taste filled your mouth. This was more than any toy you’d ever put inside you, thicker than even Lucien’s cock. When the push and pull became easier, he bent down to place a kiss on your asscheek.
“You’re doing so good, baby, if you could only see how fucking pretty your pussy looks stretched like that.”
His thumb was last, the thickest of his fingers, it caught your attention a lot with the shiny sparkle of a gold ring Lucien often wore.  
When the tip of it touched the skin of your already stuffed pussy, you slapped your palm on the mattress.
“Wait, wait.”
Lucien stopped immediately, concern in his voice. “Pain?”
“No,” you squeezed your eyes, admitting, “I’m scared.”
The fingers that played with your clit resumed the motion while others stayed still, filling you up. “It’s okay, baby. We can stop, or I can help you relax some more.” The tension in your pussy made your orgasm come quicker, the ringing sound in your ears almost drowned Lucien’s voice. “You call the shots.”
His heavy breathing interlacing with your loud moans for more told him exactly what you wanted. He was still four buckles deep inside you, his left hand furiously working over your clit to bring you closer and closer to the edge. 
“That’s it, good girl, squeezing my hand so hard, baby.” Praise spilled out of him in a generous stream, “fuck, your pussy is gonna break my fingers, amorcito. Feel so good.”
“Move,” you croaked the words out, “move your fuckin' hand, Lucien.”
You didn’t have to tell him twice, as soon as both his hands started to move in a despicable tandem you felt the tightness that was once only in your pussy spread all over your body, tying it up in a knot. Your teeth sank in the bedsheet as orgasm crashed on your body in violent waves. 
You tried catching your breath as scream after scream oxygen left your body. Not giving you a chance to recover Lucien used the perfect moment of post-orgasmic trance to push his thumb along his other fingers inside your throbbing pussy. 
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” your brain was incapable of forming any other word as you felt another wave of pressure. It wasn’t painful or scary, it was almost teasing. Your exhausted thighs pushed back on their own accord, accepting more of his hand inside. 
“Last push, baby,” you just hummed, feeling your body being boneless, stretchy like a chewed up gum, sticky like toffee; ready to be fresh mold for him.
It was like time stopped and then sped up ten times. Stretch, pressure and then it all erupted. Lucien touched the parts of you that were hidden from anyone, even yourself, and he did it magically. 
“I’ve never seen anything prettier, baby.” You wish you could hear the words Lucien was saying, the compliments he was peppering on you, but the blood pumping in your ears made it impossible and you lost yourself in the rapid beats of your pulse and the dragging out feeling of pleasure.
Or was like orgasm after orgasm was flowing out of you, transferring the feelings of peace and content through your veins. 
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“Squirted all over me and passed out, huh?”
A gentle finger traced a line on your cheek, bringing you back to reality. You were laying on your back, naked, but under a warm blanket with Lucien’s body close.
Flashes of the night gave you some clarity, reminding you where you were. “Sorry, you didn’t cum.” You still felt breathless, your eyelids too heavy to open.
“Nah I totally jerked off on your stretched out pussy, sorry.”
“You’re insane.” You giggled quietly, thankful that he had enough strength to clean you up after.
“Insanely depraved, and lucky to have you,” he murmured, spooning you and placing a tender kiss on your neck.
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chaoticbardlady99 · 4 months
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I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)
Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.
While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.
CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut
To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess
Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂
*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me
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*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!
You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.
You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.
You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.
It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.
A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.
A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.
For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.
Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.
Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.
“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”
You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.
Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.
You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.
You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.
You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.
You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.
Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.
He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.
He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.
After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.
The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.
Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.
They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.
Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.
When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”
Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.
The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.
Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”
Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.
“Sick? For how long?”
Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”
“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”
“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.
Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.
Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?
Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.
“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.
Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.
Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.
Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.
If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.
Shadowheart be damned.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!
You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.
You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.
You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-
“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”
“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”
“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”
Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.
“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.
You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.
Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?
Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.
Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.
It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.
You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.
“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”
“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”
Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.
“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”
“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she’s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”
Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!
Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”
“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”
“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.
Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”
“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”
“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”
Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.
You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”
Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.
You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.
“A girl?”
His question breaks the air.
“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”
“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.
A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.
“You don’t want to be involved?”
Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.
“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”
You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”
His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.
“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”
You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.
“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”
Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.
“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”
Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.
You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.
Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”
“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”
“What wish?”
It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.
“Right… that.”
The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.
“Astarion-“
“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”
You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.
“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”
You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.
“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”
You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.
Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”
Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.
“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”
“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”
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ponderingmoonlight · 4 months
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How JJK men act when you have insomnia (can't sleep)
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Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader; Toge x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader (special thanks to @belovedvamp for that jaw-dropping gorgeous Megumi requests, like wow)
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: nightmares, angst to comfort in everyone, I would like to point out that Megumi is my favorite part and that I'm thinking about doing a Part 2, so if you're invested definetely let me know 😭not 100% proofread yet
Gojo Satoru
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„Huh, why are you still awake babe? Aren’t you tired?”
Satoru takes in your gorgeous sight, how you lay curled up in your shared bed with your sleepy eyes darted towards him. God, why do you have to be so stunning, why does the selfish urge to keep you awake a little longer become almost unbearable for him when he knows exactly why you’re unable to sleep?
The mattress gives in under your boyfriend’s weight next to you, his hand gently caressing your head. You feel drunk, as if your body doesn’t function properly anymore. No wonder, after all you were awake for more than 30 hours by now, fighting and fighting to finally exorcise a bunch of special grade curses while Satoru was busy somewhere else.
But you’re scared to close your eyes again, to get confronted with the horrible things you’ve saw today. After each and every mission, your brain haunts you with awful nightmares, reminds you of all the death, all the injured, all the things you’ve lost.
No, you just can’t take it. You’d rather stay up a little longer in desperate hopes to be spared than risking to have another bad dream.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it”, you mumble into your heavy blanket, eyes drifting to the window.
It began to rain, heavy droplets pounding against the glass violently, thunder erupting in the dark sky. Carefully, Satoru lays down beside you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist.
“I know you’re lying”, he mutters against your sensitive neck.
“Is it because of your nightmares?”
You turn around to face him in utter surprise. When did you ever told him about those nightmares? You always kept them to yourself, suffered through them on your own. After all, Satoru is a very busy man who shouldn’t have to worry about something like a bad dream. Yes, it seems pretty ridiculous to whine about your nightmares when the strongest of them all is the one you’re talking to.
“Don’t worry about that, I’m fine”, you lie into his face, gifting him a small smile to convince him.
But your eyes don’t lie. They show nothing but terror and dread, nothing but fatigue and alertness at the same time. Suddenly Satoru’s heart feels heavy. He should have realized it sooner, the way you always go to sleep after him when you were out on a mission. Why did it never cross his mind that all of this might be too much for you? Maybe because you’re so damn strong, maybe because you make it look so damn easy every time, carrying the weight of all those missions so that his students don’t suffer.
“It makes no sense to lie to me. Why didn’t you tell me about it, babe? I’m sure Shoko might be able to help you-“
“There’s nothing anyone could do about this”, you interrupt him immediately.
“Trust me, I tried everything out there. I guess this is just how my brain tries to cope with all those things, the people dying and stuff…”
“But you don’t have to go through this alone. We’re a team, remember? Why don’t you wake me up whenever you feel upset? Why do you go to sleep after I’m already passed out? (y/n), don’t do this to yourself.”
Gently, he cups your cheek with his hand, forcing you to look up at him. Oh, how much you hate that familiar feeling. That feeling of being useless, of being weak. Are you really too frail to even sleep after a mission? Why aren’t you able to handle the things you see like the others, like Kento and Satoru? All that training, all that power just to cry in your sleep over the things that happened hours ago.
Truly pathetic.
“Do you really think you’re alone? Especially in the beginning, Kento was plagued by nightmares each and every night so much that he couldn’t even fall asleep. Suguru and I…it is always rough, remembering the faces of those you weren’t able to save. But don’t let them keep you awake, don’t think you have to simply endure this. I’m here each and every night to hold you, okay? I’m here, you’re not alone (y/n).”
Oh Satoru.
Without thinking twice, you turn around and intertwine your body with his, desperately trying to keep your composure. How do you even deserve a man like him? A man who seems goofy most of the time but hast the softest side, a man who cares more about everyone around him than himself.
Your boyfriend, the strongest with a heart of pure gold.
“I hate when they haunt me in my sleep”, you finally give in, hiding your face against his warm chest.
“I know, babe. Trust me, we all do.”
Ever so gently, he strokes your hair and back, embraces you in his very own warmth. Satoru feels like home, like the perfection you are chasing each and every day. What would you even do without his loving arms as your home? Where would you be without his constant support? All those nights he stood by your side, watched a awful romantic movie so you’d feel good again. The countless times he cooked your favourite meal for you, only to throw it away and order food afterwards. All those times he rushed to your side when you got injured, how he always manages to be right by your side when you wake up. And oh, how tender is touch feels against your skin, how his warmth embraces you with every inch of his body. He feels so good, so comforting…
Satoru watches with a small smile as your lids grow heavy and finally close, your breath leaving your mouth evenly.
“As long as I’m the one holding you, no nightmare in the world will dare to wake you up, babe”, he breathes against your ear, holding you tightly in his arms throughout the whole night.
Inumaki Toge
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You stare at the full moon blankly, mind racing. How are you supposed to get out of this alive? Are you even strong enough to lead your very own mission without someone by your side? This will be the first time you’ll be completely on your own. Without Maki, without Panda, without Toge…You trained hard these last months, you know what you’re capable of. But still…
Is it enough?
“Kelp.”
His tender voice rips you out of your poisonous thoughts immediately, glossy eyes shooting up to take in his sight. Why does he have to look so delicate with the moonlight highlighting his features? Why does his mouth have to be so damn captivating?
Why is it so easy to fall hopelessly in love with Toge Inumaki?
“Sorry, I thought y’all were asleep”, you explain visibly uncomfortably.
How embarrassing, getting caught by your crush while silently crying into the night about a damn mission. A silent yawning escapes your lips before you can stop it, tired eyes covered by a curtain of tears. God, you are so tired.
“Salmon roe.”
Before you even comprehend what’s happening, the white-haired boy takes his hand into yours gently, staring at you so intensely that you forget how to breathe for a moment. It’s like he wants to tell you that everything will be alright, that you have nothing to worry about.
“I don’t think I can do this alone, Toge. I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this…”, you finally give in.
“Bonito flakes”, he immediately replies.
Without thinking twice, he takes out a small notepad and begins to write frantically. You know he always carries a writing block with him for time that require more than a few words, more than gestures are able to say.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, you worked hard these last weeks. And you’re great! Just do as good as you always do, I’m counting on you, (y/n)! Please try to get some sleep now :)”
With every word you read your heart beats a little faster, with every word your grin grows a little wider. If he only knew how much his words truly mean to you…
“So you really think I can do it on my own?”, you question.
“Salmon!”
“Thank you, Toge”, you mutter touched.
You don’t know why, but suddenly your eyes start to burn in tears. Toge holds nothing but affection in his gaze, hand still resting on yours while squeezing it ever so slightly. He truly believes in you and your abilities, shows no doubt in your save return. Maybe…maybe you’re actually able to do this. Maybe you are indeed ready for your first solo mission.
Toge stands up again, signalling you with a gentle squeeze to stand up as well. You follow him through the dark hallways of Jujutsu High, right into the dorm you know so well.
“Tuna”, he whispers into the night before pressing you against his warm chest.
You feel as light as a feather, too stunned to speak by the way his arms feel wrapped around your body. He smells intoxicating, so good that you can’t help but sniff in and out. Is this really the first time Toge Inumaki hugged you for more than 10 seconds? It definitely is hard to let him go again.
“I believe in you, (y/n).”
Did he…Did he just speak?
“Toge…”, you breathe out, watching as his smile grows even wider.
With a last wave, he is gone in the darkness of the night, leaving you standing in the middle of your room on your own with your feelings scattered all over the place. Toge Inumaki just hugged you. No, Toge INumaki just spoke. He told you that he believes in you.
“How am I supposed to sleep now?”, you mumble to yourself.
Fushiguro Megumi
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Your eyes snap open in an instant, ice cold sweat running down your face. Where are you? Is it over? You…
You breathe out. It was a nightmare. Again.
“Fuck”, you hiss to yourself while rubbing your aching head.
Why do you have to get haunted by these horrible nightmares, when will it finally stop? Even Gojo-sensei seems to be clueless about your condition, about what keeps you up each and every night.
But you know something that will help you to get through this night. Or rather someone.
Your bare feet stick to the wooden floor ever so slightly while you wander through the dark hallways on your way to his doorstep. Is he even awake? Maybe he won’t open the door at all.
Little do you know that Megumi sits in his bed with his eyes wide open, staring at the door knob in sheer excitement for your return into his arms. He knows it doesn’t mean much to you and at the beginning, it didn’t mean anything to him either. You just came into his room from time to time, searching for comfort in his hug to chase your nightmares away. And since you were friends, Megumi had nothing against stroking your head gently and wrapping his arms around you.
But something seems different now. Something about the sensation of you visiting him late at night sends shivers down his spine, your moonlit features let his heart hammer against his ribcage. It’s like he wants to hold you even closer, wants your breath to brush against his face. Why does it dawn to him how delicate your curves look and how soft your hair feels? There is no use in denying it, no sense in fighting against the obvious.
Megumi Fushiguro has fallen hopelessly in love with you.
The knocks against his wooden floor send him to his door straight away, opening it before you’re able to think twice.
“Oh, I didn’t knew you were still awake, Fushiguro”, you mutter into the darkness.
God, how much he hates the fact that you always call him by his last name. What would he give to hear his name out of your mouth once?
“What do you want here, (y/n)?”
His voice sounds harsher than anticipated while it takes all his strength to not swallow you in his arms immediately.
“I had a bad dream again…”
The vulnerable tone of your voice kills him from the inside. Without saying another word, he steps aside, allows you to enter his dorm without hesitation. You position yourself on the left side of his bed like you always do, hiding yourself in his already warm sheets. Without hesitation, he crawls back into his bed, inviting you into his arms with a long breath.
You smell as good as you always do. Why did it take him so long to realize that you smell absolutely intoxicating, that the mixture of your shampoo, body scent and perfume is addictive? Maybe he should tell you about the way he feels, finally confess how you make his heart beat out of his chest. But how would you react?
Would you…reject him? For all these years of knowing each other, you were never more than friends. Good buddies, pals, but not more than that. None of you ever crossed the line of plain cuddling each other to sleep. Not once did your lips brush over his, not once did your hands move further than his chest. Would you even love him back?
“Come on, you have to have a crush (y/n)! Is it Chris Pine, Tom Holland? Are you more into Korean guys?”, Nobara inquired over and over.
You just rolled your eyes with a playful grin, almost making Megumi fall out of his chair next to Yuji.
“I don’t have a crush on anyone. I’m perfectly fine by myself”, you insisted.
“I like tall woman with a big ass”, Yuji interrupted out of nowhere, gaining a punch in his face by Nobara.
That was it, the first time he noticed something strange. The way his heart suddenly grew heavier than metal, sunk into his chest, took his breath away. He was hurt by your words. Megumi Fushiguro was hurt by the stinging fact that you didn’t say his name like he secretly hoped for, that your eyes didn’t even flinch towards him for the split of a second.
“Hey, are you alright? Why did you tense up like that?”, you mutter against his chest while drawing circles onto his t-shirt with your delicate fingertip.
“Oh, it’s nothing for you to worry about”, he lies into this tender night.
He presses you against his own body a little tighter, watches how your eyes grow heavy with every passing minute that you listen to his steady heartbeat. This shouldn’t mean more to him than comforting an old friend, it shouldn’t make his heart flutter and palms sweaty. But the soft snores leaving your mouth sound oh so lovely, the way your eyes move behind closed lids makes his heart skip a beat. You have to be the most precious creature on this earth, so valuable that he never wants to let you go again.
Until he has in the morning. Until you return back into his arms when nightmares keep you up another night.
Thank you so much for reading! Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul@chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly   @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @aeliusbbg
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nyctophicbtch · 1 year
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The Songcord - Neteyam
[ Neteyam x Omatikaya!reader ]
Request: Can I request a Neteyam x Omaticaya!reader
Author’s note: I recommend listening to From Darkness to Light, The Spirit Tree, and The Songcord if you have tissues prepared
Warnings: angst, mentions of blood, death
Word Count: 3,101
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“Feels like I haven’t been here in ages,” you muttered, hands brushing the glowing strands of the tree of voices. Kiri and Tuk were already immersed in their own worlds, not hearing a thing you were saying. Spider was out exploring on his own, eyeing the sky, the flowers, the tree, and basically everything else.
“Better make the most of it then,” Lo’ak replied, attaching his queue to a strand.
Neteyam was standing near the bark, and it looked like he wasn’t going to join them any time soon, so you followed Lo’ak and did the same.
It had been a while since you’d done this, or had been anywhere near the tree at all. Although there were plenty of excuses to use, you knew you were just scared of what you’d see.
It was moments like these, where you’d hear and see your actual parents, that made you afraid. You had been fighting so long to earn your place here with the Sully’s.
Even though you started off wanting to befriend the family of the person who insisted on becoming your friend, it’d grown into something deeper over time. And every time you looked back to your parents whenever you visited the tree made you realize that you could never have what you actually wanted.
The feeling overwhelmed you, screamed at you until the bond was forcefully broken and you were thrown back off your balance. You didn’t know what was happening, but you could somehow make out Lo’ak’s muffled yelling over your blurry vision and ringing ears.
“Neteyam!”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know!”
“Move!” You felt hands grasping your shoulders, but you were too caught up on trying to breathe to see who it was. It felt like the air was sucked out of you and none of your senses were working properly. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re here.”
There was no coherent thought on what was going on, but you could feel the thumb gently rubbing small circles on your shoulder.
“Shh. You’re okay,” Neteyam whispered, leaning his forehead to yours.
Your shallow breaths slowly returned to normal, and you started to make sense of what was happening. You could start to feel the numbing of your legs from the uncomfortable position, and you could see Lo’ak’s worried gaze on you. You started to hear Neteyam’s comforting words clearer and feel the way he was holding you.
You heard the sigh of relief Lo’ak released when you felt yourself calming down and Spider running towards you, closing your eyes to let yourself succumb to Neteyam’s comforting hold.
He kept his eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours for as long as you’d like to assure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. It was only when you felt the numbing of your legs begin to worsen when you pulled away, finally looking at your surroundings.
Kiri and Tuk were still engrossed in their memories and it looked like they did not witness the scene that had just unfold beside them, much to your relief. You didn’t know how you’d explain this to the cheery child.
“Hey, you okay? What was that?” Spider questioned.
“I don’t know.”
They all decided to leave you to yourself and give you time to think, well except Lo’ak who wasn’t going to let it slide that easily.
“What did you see?” he asked as he sat down beside you, leaning his head against a tree.
“The usual.”
“Then why did-“ Lo’ak stopped himself with a sigh before he could interrogate you any further. “Don’t leave me hanging for too long. Talk when you’re ready.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“Guys, it’s dark out we need to get back.” You heard Kiri call out from a distance.
“You were the one that took so long,” Lo’ak replied as he stood up, offering a hand to you for support.
“Let’s go, children.” Neteyam rallied everyone, placing a hand on Tuk’s back when she almost lost her balance.
You all ran back from the way you came, anxiousness gripping at each one of you when you saw the sky completely dark, the only thing lighting it up were the stars and moons.
But there was no room to worry about curfew when all you could think about was what had happened back there. Everything happened so fast you could barely process it.
“You coming?” Neteyam’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.
You looked up to the boy waiting for you, his head turned back to face you expectantly. In a matter of seconds, you regained your senses and jumped up to the branch near him.
Maybe you didn’t really regain all of your senses after all, considering how you slipped on the moss and fell backwards. Lucky for you, Neteyam had incredible reflexes, grabbing your hand before you managed to fall. Being the Olo’eyktan in training had its perks.
“Careful.”
“Thanks,” you muttered half-heartedly.
Neteyam decided he wasn’t going to press you further on it, giving you some space for whatever is going on in your head.
The branches suddenly felt further apart than they were, and your legs felt heavy as you leaped from branch to branch, following the Sully kids.
“Mom’s going to be so mad,” said Kiri as she ran past Lo’ak to catch up with Spider. Poor Tuk was left behind, so you grabbed her hand and matched your pace with the youngest Sully.
“Come on, Tuk,” you encouraged her when you saw the big jump she had to make. She pursed her lips and made a running start before leaping, Neteyam steadying her balance on the other side.
“Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” he whispered as you passed him.
You could see the circled-outlines of the moons in the sky, their glow being the only thing that allowed you to see your path, apart from the glow behind the opening in a tree bark that indicated you were finally there.
“And where-“ Neytiri started as Neteyam joined your circle. “Have you all been?”
Technically you weren’t actually family, you thought as you slowly backed away from them. With it being so dark and you standing on the edge of the group made your escape seem pretty easy. Neteyam noticed your movements but didn’t comment on it.
“You too.” You froze in your spot, Neytiri’s eyes trained on you like a spotlight.
You doubted that they saw you as family, but Jake and Neytiri had an odd way of making you feel like it. You had been a little younger than Tuk when Lo’ak had found you, and from there, each day you spent with the Sullys brought you closer to the family. But in times like this, you wished you didn’t feel like part of the family enough to escape Neytiri’s scolding.
-
“Why do they get to do the fun stuff while we sit here? I’d rather join them.”
“Suit yourself. I like it here,” replied Kiri.
Just on time, you stopped your pacing and ran out to the sound of the people shouting for the war party. The scene that greeted you wasn’t what you had initially expected, but it was no surprise either.
You kept your distance as you watched the two boys look down guiltily when Kiri approached, trying to drag the older brother out of the situation.
However, the huge gash on Neteyam’s chest worried you more than anything. His tail was swishing gently, showing the unease he felt.
Eventually, Jake let them both go and you followed them into the tent, and when the boys saw you, their faces lit up.
“Hey,” you approached Neteyam who was sitting on top of a wooden table with Kiri tending to his wounds.
“I’m offended you didn’t come to me first,” grumbled Lo’ak from the corner of the room. He had his arms crossed over his chest stubbornly, and the bright look turned into a sour one.
Although you knew he was messing around, you heard some truth in his words. Besides, it was Lo’ak that had befriended you first, and it was him that had spent his nights up to no good with you when his brother was busy being a good child.
“Missed you too, Lo’ak.”
“Ouch. Can you not?” Neteyam flinched as Kiri pressed into the cut a little too forcefully.
“Do you want me to help?”
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“No I’m not,” she scoffed before pressing his wound even harsher, making him slap her hand away. “Now that was on purpose. You do it, I’m gonna find Tuk.”
Kiri gave you the bowl before exiting the tent. You were never one for healing, but you saw her plenty of times and she knew that. It was usually Kiri that did all the work when her brothers came back all bruised and bleeding.
“It’s fine. I don’t need it anyways,” Neteyam argued and started to get up when you smeared the sap on his cut.
“It’s deep. You’ll get an infection.”
“No it’s-“
“Sit down.” You gently pushed the hand that wasn’t holding the bowl to his chest and Neteyam sat down. He kept his eyes on you as you continued working on him, making sure to be extra gentle.
“I’m still here,” Lo’ak called out, unamused. “This is getting sappy. I’m leaving.”
“How come you’re younger than me and you get to boss me around all the time?” Neteyam started once his brother was out of earshot.
“I’m Lo’ak’s age.”
“And I see him as a baby.”
You sighed, feeling around his head to find any injuries. Neteyam could tell you were distracted and that your thoughts were everywhere but here with him just from the look in your eyes. You’ve been welled up in your thoughts ever since your last visit to the tree of voices, and the change of mood that came with it was evident.
“You okay?” Neteyam finally decided to speak up, wincing when you pressed on a sore spot in his scalp.
“Hmm?”
“You’ve been like this for the past week,” he explained. “Distant.”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on. I know you better than that. Lo’ak thinks it has something to do with me and he won’t shut up about it.”
“I’m fine.” You applied the sap with just a bit too much pressure on his head and he grasped your hand in his, bringing it away from his head.
“I won’t tell him,” he started when you finally looked at him for the first time ever since Kiri left. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
Neteyam saw your hesitance and reached for the bowl in your other hand to set it down next to him. He lowered his voice, speaking gently as if he was afraid of hurting you. “What happened when we were in the tree of voices?”
“I don’t know. I saw my parents and when it stopped I just panicked and I don’t know why. This never happens. Then I started thinking about your family and how they don’t really consider me a part of their family made me wish I had something like that.” You didn’t even realize the tears were falling until you felt Neteyam wipe the ones that fell to your cheeks. He stood and put an arm around you to bring you into an embrace, allowing you to bury your face in his shoulder.
Every welled up thought and feeling from the past week you’ve tried to shove as deep in the back of your head as possible suddenly resurfaced all over again. Maybe you were too scared to admit it, but Neteyam’s comfort was what you’ve been needing.
“You’re as much of the family as I am,” he softly assured whilst pulling away, tilting your chin upwards with a finger to look at him. “It might not look like it, but we all care. Even mom and dad.”
And then Neteyam did something stupid.
He leaned in to press his lips against yours, his grip around you tightening to pull you closer. You could taste the salt from your own tears as you responded with the same amount of intensity, all the built-up emotions finally pouring out into the kiss.
Your hands reached out to wrap around his neck when you felt his tail brush against your leg, the slow loving movements indicating how blissed out he was.
You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed in that tent, but when you pulled away breathlessly, Neteyam did the same with visible effort.
“How am I going to tell Lo’ak?”
Neteyam breathed out a small laugh and closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against yours.
“I’m more worried about dad.” At his words, you parted from him anxiously. “Relax. You’re family. If anything, they’ll be more worried about you than me.”
He wasn’t wrong. Jake looked like he was having a panic attack when the two of you told him and Neytiri.
“You want to tell me how this happened?” He pointed between the two of you who looked like guilty kids that had gotten caught stealing. You both glanced at each other hesitantly as Jake grew impatient waiting for an explanation from either of you.
“Neteyam kissed me.” Your voice came out so quiet you weren’t sure whether you’d said it out loud or if you’d only said it in your head.
Jake and Neytiri looked purely out of it. They cast their son a look while he looked anywhere but at his parents.
“Neteyam,” Neytiri warned.
The Olo’eyktan made sure to make the list of rules clear for the both of you. No wandering off too far alone together and definitely no sleeping together, even just next to each other separately. Jake mentioned how he knew it wasn’t uncommon considering how you’ve been doing that since you were children, but now it was off limits. He also mentioned a whole set of other rules and how he would kill Neteyam if the boy laid a hand on you or hurt you in any way.
In a way, the protectiveness they held towards you made you feel welcomed and accepted. It made you feel as if you were actually part of the family. And even more so when they offered you to join them to pursue lands beyond the Omatikaya clan.
Since the only people you’ve stuck to since you were young were their kids, Jake and Neytiri knew you’d be devastated if you had to part with them, especially when you were now attached with their eldest son.
There was no dismissing their offer from your side either. You weren’t going to leave the only people who truly knew you, and you weren’t going to leave Neteyam. Though you had to admit, you missed the forest just as much as everybody else.
“What’s that?” asked the youngest Sully as she peeked over your shoulder to get a closer look at what you were holding.
“A bracelet I’m making for you.” Her face brightened even more.
“It’s pretty!”
“It needs more shells. I’ll fetch some more outside and woah-“ your eyes widened when Neteyam and Lo’ak entered, all bruised and bloody. “What now?”
“Got into a fight with Tsireya’s brothers. They were picking on Kiri. Hey Tuk,” Lo’ak said, ruffling his sister’s hair.
“You too?” You looked at the older brother.
“What? Was I supposed to stand there and watch him get beaten up?”
“I could’ve handled them on my own.”
Neteyam snorted. “No, you’d be with Eywa if it wasn’t for me.”
Lo’ak grumbled his way to Tuk, who looked like she had so many questions for him. He picked up the bracelet you made and twirled it in his hands, earning an angry protest from his sister who snatched it away from his hands.
You were about to leave to go shell-hunting when a thought passed through your head after seeing blood on Neteyam’s lips.
It looked like it hadn't dried up, so you acted on impulse when you approached him and brought your hand to his jaw to pull him into a gentle kiss, making sure to lick his bottom lip where the blood was.
The kiss took Neteyam by surprise, and once he was about to respond, you pulled away, leaving him puzzled.
“You got blood on your lips,” you whispered, tracing your fingers along his jaw before reluctantly letting go.
“Gross, you two. Poor Tuk’tirey’s tainted.” You barely heard Lo’ak’s words as you walked away from them.
The rest of your days were filled with the same routine. You’d learn a thing or two from the Tsireya and then Lo’ak would stir up trouble with her brother and his friends. How they had managed to get along after some time was a miracle.
Everyday was filled with new discoveries of their waters. Tuk would ask to see something new almost every hour, and being the favorite, you’d accompany her almost every time. If you weren’t with Tuk, you’d be sitting somewhere with Kiri. If you weren’t with Kiri, you’d be exploring the waters with Lo’ak, and if you weren’t with Lo’ak, you’d be discovering new places on land with Neteyam.
Today, you were with Lo’ak, and you hadn’t expected that warning his Tulkun friend would turn into something much much worse. You weren’t even sure how it came to this point.
You were escaping the sky people when Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk were taken. It was one thing after the other and the next thing you know, you were trying to keep your composure as you watched Neteyam writhe in pain from a bullet wound in his chest, your palm caressing his jaw to let him know you were here.
It’s okay. He’s going to be okay.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Jake voiced your thoughts.
“I want to go home.”
No. It’ll take more than a bullet to kill you.
“I know, I know. We’re going home.”
No. No.
You felt your heart breaking followed by a tear with every sob and pained sound that came out of his mouth.
“It’s okay,” you quietly assured him as your thumb gently stroked his cheek, the first word you’ve spoken coming off as a whisper.
Neteyam glanced your way one last time at your voice before the pain in his eyes turned lifeless and his convulsing body went still.
“No. No, no-“ Neytiri begged and it felt like the air was sucked out of you. “Neteyam!”
You couldn’t even hear your own scream over the ringing of your ears. Everything happened all too fast.
“Neteyam,” you sobbed, cradling his head close.
You can’t leave me. Come back.
:)
3K notes · View notes
rianavi · 5 months
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the cold
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spencer reid x f!reader
content; tooth rotting fluff, oblivious spencer, awkward spencer, best friends but crushing, mutual pining
summary; after a case in alaska the snow is too thick to get a plane ride back so you and the team spend another night in a small motel. the only thing is, spencer doesn’t know if he can take another night of sleeping on the floor in your shared room. and you cant stand seeing him in pain.
based off 05x21
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hotch enters the motel with a heavy sigh and a shake of his head. “they said it’s to heavy, we’ll have to stay another night.”
the team sighs and jj and emily disperse, going back to their room, followed by rossi.
spencer stays standing behind the chair you sit in. hands tucked inside his pockets and tongue poking his inner cheek.
derek takes penelope by the hand and leads the way to their room while hotch stays behind to call strauss.
you stand - finally - and begin the tread to the bed thats been holding you for the past three days.
you don’t expect spencer to catch up to you considering youre a fast walker and he’s been dealing with back pain this whole case.
it had given you a feeling of guilt, you and spencer were sharing a room with a single bed and you had lost the fight to sleep on the hardwood floor.
all you wanted was to invite him into the bed with you, under the comforter and cuddled into you as you cling onto each other for warmth.
but you were scared and knew he would never agree to it. so you kept your mouth shut and turned away from his shivering body on the floor.
tonight would be different though.
you couldn’t stand seeing him in agonizing pain any longer, tonight you would finally build up the courage and invite him into bed with you.
when you got to your destination you grabbed a pair of pajamas and made your way to the bathroom.
just as you closed the bathroom door you heard spencer enter the room and sigh before seeing the shadow of his feet walk past the bathroom.
you turn on the sink to wash your face and hands, then changing into a pair of pajama pants and an undershirt.
when you exit the bathroom you make sure to leave the light on as to spencers fear of the dark.
you find him changed into his sleep clothes and making his bed on the floor.
before the chance was taken away you speak softly, “spencer,”
he looks up at you with his big eyes and carved features that make you weak in the knees.
“i’m not letting you sleep on the floor again, it’s way too uncomfortable and i can tell that it’s bothering your back.”
his eyebrows tug together, “well there is no way im letting you sleep here instead.”
the thought of him taking the pain just so you wouldn’t have to has your heart clenching and stomach turning.
“that’s not what i’m saying. there is more than enough room for both of us on the bed.”
you can see the way his cheeks redden and his posture tenses.
at first you think he’s gonna turn you down but then he speaks.
“y-yeah sure.”
youre taken aback to say the least but you smile brightly and make your way over to the bed.
you pull back the covers and fluff the pillows to your liking before crawling under the blanket and waiting for spencer to join you.
he does so slowly and awkwardly, he lays stiff and flat on his back staring up at the ceiling.
you laugh softly at how scared he looks before turning on your side to face him.
“better?”
he nods softly, and pulls the comforter up to his neck while shivering.
“you know.. if we huddle close together the body heat from us will warm each other up.”
“usually im the one speaking facts.”
you laugh at that, airy and light. he smiles at the sound and overcomes his fears by grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers.
you gasp lightly at the coldness of his hand before smiling at him and squeezing his palm.
the air is less tense now and you both can breathe normally now.
“spencer?”
he looks at you for the first time this night and hums in acknowledgment.
“can you hold me?”
he releases a breath before pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around your waist tightly -like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life-
you smile into his neck and wrap your arms around his neck while your hands land in his hair.
“youre very warm,” he speaks softly
you laugh again, tickling his neck. the warmth of his breath hitting your forehead. he places a soft kiss there and you smile into his neck, tightening your grip on him while sleep overcomes you both.
742 notes · View notes
ruggiezz · 7 months
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— TWST CHARACTERS PLAYING ROBLOX : twisted wonderland
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[synopsis] twisted wonderland characters play roblox and some of them fail miserably
[characters] heartslabyul, octavinelle, and scarabia
[extra] play roblox, is very entertaining, especially apeirophobia, 10/10 would reccomend. adeuce is a package deal you can't separate them. i may or may not have gotten carried away writing these
★﹕RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS — word bomb
He didn't even want to try it at first. That's a game for kids, right? He's occupied with his studies. Then you introduced him to Word Bomb, a game where he could show off the fact that he read an entire encyclopedia when he was a kid. He destroys people in the game; like, ok, you're supposed to write a word with the letters they give you, but how did Riddle come up with the word "uvulopalatopharyngoplasty"?
Now he plays in his free time, but he does it like his family's honor is at risk. He only lost once since he started playing, and he took it personally.
★﹕TREY CLOVER — bloxy bingo
One of the two who decided to pick a chill game. Trey is just trying to take a break; why are people insulting him in seven different languages because he won once? This game feels like he is in a retirement home playing with old people, except the old people are beefing with each other and buying like six different sheets to fill and have more chances to win. A kid even wrote him a whole paragraph in a language he couldn't even read; the only thing he knew was that they insulted his entire bloodline. At the end Trey got frustrated, but not to the point of fighting kids on Roblox.
★﹕CATER DIAMOND — 3008
Cater is not as nice as Trey; he actually does fight kids on Roblox. No, 'Progamerkiller1234', you cannot stay at his fort; it took him three days in the game to make it aesthetically pleasing; no, he doesn't care that the employees are chasing you and that you're about to die; that sounds like a you problem. People have tried to steal his place from him before, and he won't take the risk again. At this point, Cater doesn't even care about the SCP aspect of the game; he's just there to do a whole mansion with the furniture and to show off his pretty avatar. Now, if you ask him to let you stay at his place, he will let you, since you aren't a random person trying to rob him. But please help with collecting food while he's building.
★﹕ACE AND DEUCE — apeirophobia
It started with Ace saying something along the lines of "let's play this game just to laugh at how dumb it is", and somehow progressed into Deuce screaming because a Smiler scared him, Ace screaming because Deuce startled him, and you having to carry them through the game. The backrooms suddenly aren't funny anymore, but Ace doesn't want to quit because he "can't lose to a kid's game". So now the three of you keep replaying and replaying the game, dying in the most stupid ways possible. A Doppelganger killed you, the Titan Smiler caught Deuce because he got stuck, and a Skin Stealer kept killing Ace. You even had to spend 2 hours replaying the funrooms level, and when you thought the horrors were over, you lost the next level.
Please free Deuce from this suffering. It's 4 am and some random entity is chasing him, his throat will be sore tomorrow from how much he screamed. And never mention ever again that Ace screamed because he got startled when Trey knocked on his door.
★﹕AZUL ASHENGROTTO — work at a pizza place
The second Azul started playing, he overthrew the manager and took their position. There's a problem though: nobody works in this game; Azul has to do everything, and I mean everything. He's the cashier, the chef, the delivery guy, and the supplier; he's running around doing all the work. If he could name himself the employee of the month he would, but he's the manager, so the game doesn't allow him. This game got him stressed, and they didn't even pay him well.
Did that teach him to pay his Mostro Lounge employees better? No, the only thing he learned is that he shouldn't play Roblox again because, clearly, nobody there takes having a business seriously.
★﹕JADE LEECH — murder mistery 2
If you don't know what the game is about, it's a game where you're assigned a role every round: citizen, murderer, or sheriff; guess which one is his favorite role. Jade is having a blast; he acts like a pro in the game, and he always wins whenever he is the murderer. The worst thing is that nobody suspects he's good at playing because he has the basic Roblox skin; he refuses to change it because it's useful when playing. He is passively aggressive in the chat whenever someone provokes him, either that or he's just making fun of some random kid who got angry at him.
★﹕FLOYD LEECH — ragdoll engine
The only thing you do in that game is make your character suffer; Floyd likes that very much. The first thing he did was throw himself down the stairs, and then he just couldn't stop. Throwing himself off the highest stairs he could find, down a building, launching himself from a cannon—he just finds it extremely funny to see his character suffer. But his favorite thing is pushing other players. He's a menace; you can be doing your own thing, then he randomly approaches you and starts pushing you around, and he won't leave you alone. I mean, at least he isn't pushing people down the stairs in real life.
★﹕KALIM AL-ASIM — bee swarm simulator
The other one who chose a chill game. It's repetitive, yes, but Kalim is having the time of his life. You caught his interest the second you mentioned the cute bees; they all had cute faces and everything. He got emotionally attached to his bees, so now he plays every time he can. You know those types of players that you see and they make you think they have been playing for years? That's Kalim, except he has only been playing for a month; he has already spent a ridiculous amount of money on the game and on his avatar. He will show you his bees as if they were his kids.
★﹕JAMIL VIPER — natural disaster survival
Stressed, really stressed. Tell him why his character fell off a building because of a tsunami, or why he blew up, or why a meteorite fell on him. WHAT HAPPENED TO HIS LIMB? DID IT FLY AWAY WITH THE TORNADO?? There's so much going on, he's confused and can barely keep up. He has to admit that it's funny when your character dies for some random reason though, you're receiving the same treatment the game gave him.
"WHERE DID MY HAIR GO? WHY AM I BALD??" Jami said a few seconds before a tornado sent him flying.
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rxdidz · 11 months
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⨳ ethan landry with a bad bitch gf !!
synopsis: yk those girls that have absolutely flawless makeup, speaks her mind, sarcastic, sweet to her loved ones n always has the cutest fits?? basically that’s you.
note: comeback era????? THIS HAS BEEN IN MT DRAFTS SINCE THR MOVIE CAME OUT MY BAD
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hid his feelings for you because like EVERYONE liked you, why would you like him??
but you did like him
you were in class and you saw him come in late with a guy
you instantly thought “i want him” n it’s like you picked him out help
you ended up asking the professor to switch seats so you could sit next to him
after a couple weeks you got together 🤭
even though y’all are already together he gets flustered around you a lot
he’s always asking himself why your dating him
if anyone says anything about your relationship your instantly snapping at the person
worshipping you 24/7
“walk him like a dog” irl 😭 he’s constantly following you around like a lost puppy
always calling you sweetheart or pretty girl <3
basically begs for forgiveness when your mad at him because you scare him
he loves teasing you because you don’t expect it from him but when he does LORDD
he’s head over heels fr
he lets you do his skincare before bed 🤭
even let you do his makeup one time but DAMN he can’t sit still he kept giggling
your very protective of him, you threatened to fight a guy one time 😓
but ethan always reassures you that he doesn’t care what people say <33
it’s also vice versa but no one really messes with you ⁉️
him holding your bags when your shopping
that one cuddling position where he’s laying on top of you with his head on your chest is his FAVOURITE
HIS LAUGH AND SMILE ARE SO CUTEE
like you try not to but you just want to hold his face in your hands when he’s talking
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angelltheninth · 5 months
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Meeting and Treating an Injured Mizu
Pairing: Mizu x Reader
Tags: fluff, angst, blood, injury, first meeting, developing a crush, showing off, kissing, literal sleeping together
A/N: I love her a lot, I can't get her out of my head.
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You were getting ready to sleep when you heard hard banging sounds on your door. Since it was late at night you suspected trouble, not someone being in trouble. The last thing you suspected was an injured!Mizu covered in blood, with an equally bloody sword collapsing into your arms. You heard about the blue eyed samurai but you figured it was just a tale, that it wasn't a real person but there she was, bleeding out in your arms.
When she wakes up the first thing she does is look for her sword to defend herself with. You wouldn't dream keeping it from her but you also didn't leave it by her side for this exact reason. As grateful as injured!Mizu is that you helped her she had no plans to stick around. There are a lot of powerful people hunting her, and you're just a civilian, you shouldn't deal with her problems.
You weren't even supposed to see her, she wanted to... burrow your horse and leave, but as luck would have it the horse got away from her, which then lead injured!Mizu to waking you up. It may have been a bad strategy but with how much blood she lost she did good walking all this way.
Injured!Mizu insists that she can leave right away, just give her a clean set of bandages and she'll be out of here. She's surprised when you told her to stay a while. Well she has to repay you for scaring off your horse of course, you're not letting her off the hook that easily. That would make you a very poor healer. While she's here she needs to follow your rules.
As annoyed as injured!Mizu is with you she can't deny that you patched her up pretty good. And you are a healer so you'll probably do a better job then her too. Quickly shows how stubborn she truly, slapping your hand away when you try to take a look at her wounds and saying she can unwrap the bandages herself, you just need to apply the medicine. She keeps her guard up around you even with a fever, always glancing at her sword.
Despite her injuries she's still up early every morning to train but she doesn't use her sword but it's scabbard as per your orders. It's lighter and there's less ways for her to injure herself if she begins to feel sick. When injured!Mizu notices that you're watching her with great interest she smiles to herself, amused that you could look at her in awe when she's used her techniques to kill people. But she suspects you already know that.
When she gets a little better she starts to chop wood for the fire, for cooking, for warmth, early in the morning. Injured!Mizu can still wield an axe with one hand, although that isn't that odd when you take into a count that she's in really good shape. You try not to stare too long though, that wouldn't be appropriate, she's a stranger and on top of that she's a patient.
Before she got better you used to eat together in silence but after she got better injured!Mizu got a bit more talkative. She kept her past and most of her identity hidden but she talked about her travels to many towns and villages and the people she's met. Most of her stories end with her getting in a fight and having to leave. Hopefully she leaves on good terms with you.
You notice that she has trouble sleeping and despite her insisting otherwise you manage to talk her into sharing your bed. Injured!Mizu is scared she might bleed all over your bed, and you if her wounds open up. However you can tell by the blush on her cheeks that there's more to it than that. Given how she never mentioned dating anyone you assume she hasn't slept next to many people. She hardly sleeps at all the first night, only on the third does she begin to relax a little.
A big part of you wishes injured!Mizu stayed longer, but a week is already too much for her while she's on the run. She's grateful, she really is, you're a wonderful person and she's lucky she feel into your arms, but she can't stay forever. This is for your own good too, your own safety.
Injured!Mizu may not have had many crushes but she can tell that you've been giving her heart eyes while she was working. Of course she'd notice you staring, she probably has heightened senses too. Since you're crushing on her would you take a kiss on the cheek as payment? Mind you this is a once in a life time thing. So rare. How could you say no to such an offer?
When others arrive asking about injured!Mizu, about a blue eyed samurai passing by here you tell them you've seen someone like that in the past few days. But of course when they ask not only do you ask for payment, enough to buy yourself a new horse but you also point them in the opposite direction.
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I just got out of my psychology class and I kept having thoughts about Leon and how his mind works. Here’s a psychoanalysis on Leon bc I truly do like how his brain works:
TW: mentions of mental illnesses, substances, substance abuse, suicide. (Guys- I am not a medical psychologist or a medical psychiatrist. This is strictly based on my psychology class, take this with a grain of salt.)
Leon suffers from Combat and Violence Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). This type of PTSD (because there’s subcategories) is most often common in veterans and in men.
More often than not, one can tell when someone’s suffering PTSD (flat voice, substance abuse, inability to sleep, change in personality, etc.)
Leon in RE2/RE2R didn’t necessarily show signs of PTSD until after the events took place. Leon was too busy trying to survive that his brain shut off the emotions he was feeling “in the heat of the moment.” He was scared but it was his survival instinct that allowed him (or the player) to move forward. Hence why I think he also suffered from Depression and Acute Stress Disorder (ASD).
ASD is commonly found in patients with PTSD, ASD is kind of like the first stage after a traumatic event took place. PTSD victims often find themselves having frequent panic attacks. I think it would be safe to assume that Leon in RE2/RE2R had several panic attacks during or after Raccoon City. I don’t think he’d go to therapy/psychiatrist/psychologist because in RE4R he stated that he immediately got called to the White House after he survived RC. And this is where I think it got worse.
RE4 and RE4R both portray very distinct Leon characters. One is more “fine” than the other in short words. Leon in RE4og doesn’t necessarily show signs of having mental issues but maybe he’s just good at masking them. Leon in RE4og often finds himself being very witty or very lean back. He’s less serious but I think it’s a coping mechanism. Up to that point in his life, he’s been in very serious situations that I think this is his way of gaining some of that control he lost when the virus first started. His brain is fighting battles of being in control or letting others control him. In this case- the situation is controlling him. He wants to have that sense of individuality and most of the time this is a coping mechanism. To gain back some of the things he’s lost in the process.
In RE4R, however (and I’m going to be very bold with this one), we don’t know much about how he feels. He is flat and his demeanor is distant to an extent. I’ve noticed a few changes to him from when he first started the game to where the player made it halfway. In the beginning of the game (when he’s with the two Spanish cops) he’s similar to RE4og- sarcastic and a little unserious. Which can be guessed as his normal personality. He doesn’t really show how much he’s actually been through with those two strangers. He’s got better things to worry about- he neglects his own issues. When he tries to find Ashley and he sees the zombies again- his PTSD gets triggered and it makes him be able to pull the trigger (aside from the player lol) There are few types of reactions when PTSD gets triggered and I think Leon’s reaction is a bit depressing.
When Leon sees these zombies again, his brain automatically jumps back to the memories of Raccoon City and almost immediately finds himself back in his former self’s shoes. But he doesn’t have time to linger, he forces those thoughts away and keeps going. I don’t think he wants to have time to think about what just happened because he’s often trying to keep his brain occupied “sorry, must’ve slipped” or any other phrase he says makes me believe that he’s just trying to make himself laugh (because believe it or not, laughter really does help with mental issues) or he’s trying to make the situation seem lighter. Or maybe he’s in denial, his brain hasn’t processed that the same thing that happened in RC is happening all over again. And when you’re in denial, you are repressed. Sigmund Freud said that repression is when someone turns something (trauma, thoughts, events, feelings) away. They deliberately choose to cast their thoughts and feelings aside. Leon bottles his emotions, it’s his defense mechanism. He doesn’t smoke (as mentioned in the game) nor does he drink (there’s a Reddit post that perfectly summed it up for me) He knows substances aren’t good for you and the fact that he’s against them makes me believe that he has other ways of dealing with PTSD such as exercise. I’m not saying this just because Leon looks very built, I want to think that maybe half the reason he works out isn’t just for his job. I think it also because it helps him mentally.
Mobility, sleep, and nutrition are the most important things to keep yourself mentally and physically healthy.
I’ll get on to RE6 because in that game, he pulled a 180 imo. RE6 Leon is more empathetic. He cares about the people that could’ve survived. He suffers from survivor’s guilt. After RE4/RE4R, Leon probably became more aware of his struggles and has tried to deal with them. He’s become more human, he’s allowed himself to feel human. He’s still the same serious guy with the flat effect but he’s becoming more open about his thoughts and feelings. I think the game is trying to hint at us that MAYBE he’s getting better. (Guys this is a stretch okay. RE6 is lowkey messy)
Now on to the films (I’ve done the liberty of researching a ‘order’ of when these may have taken place and not by the release date order so you guys won’t get confused):
ID Leon: He’s very compassionate in this one. He has a sense of self righteousness but I know why. He wants to make up for the losses of the people he’s seen die. He wants to fight against the corporation and wants to end the spread (submarine scene when he talks about RC) He wants to make up for what he couldn’t save. (Hence why he didn’t give Claire the chip- he wanted to protect her because he cares for her)
Degeneration Leon: Protection can only go a long way. Leon is more… assertive in his objectives, if you will. He’s back in his RE4 days in other words (any of the two games tbh, this Leon is complex) Leon wants to keep fighting for his cause. Not only is he forced to be a soldier for the government but he also has found a drive. All his pent up PTSD and trauma has shifted into something else. If no one could’ve been the hero then HE’LL be the hero himself, does that make sense?
Damnation Leon: Haha Russia go brr (sorry) Again, he’s become more chill. When he’s with JD, he’s funny but still cautious (bc let’s be honest, JD could’ve still shot his ass) nothing much to comment, I think he’s been consistent since Degeneration.
Vendetta Leon: NOW WE GETTING JUICY. This man- this Leon is the epitome of what a relapse does to you. Leon is seen drinking away his problems. He’s relapsed back into the mentality where his brain is finally processing everything. He’s even tried to attempt suicide- that’s how bad he got. His PTSD, his ASD, depression (bc you can’t tell me he didn’t have depression) it all came back to him and it made him feel shitty. He lost his power over himself, he no longer feels useful. He feels empty and broken. That’s sh he drowns himself in his own sorrows. Because he’s learned that if you drink until you pass out, you don’t dream. He doesn’t sleep- no. He’d rather black out because when you’re in an unconscious state, you don’t dream at all. You’re simply just lying there on the floor with your eyes closed. And that’s the feeling Leon wants to feel. He wants to forget everything for one minute and just calm down. And alcohol does that to you, that’s why people with PTSD become addicted to substances.
DI Leon: homeboy somehow got better (I’ve yet to watch DI lol) but from what I’ve seen, he’s definitely back to his “normal” self. He probably learned that maybe living life is the best thing. That if his attempt would’ve succeeded, then he wouldn’t have been able to live to his fullest. Regret makes people do a lot of things and I think Leon matured and learned.
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flametrashiraarchive · 8 months
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So, since @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi fed me real real good with her Muzan smut I wanted to write something in exchange, and as per usual I got carried away and the Giyuu "blurb" I promised became nearly 3k words of smut and feelings.
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Stay With Me
Giyuu Tomioka x F!Reader. Childhood friends to lovers. A lot of handholding.
NSFW below the cut. MDNI
It began innocently. 
You and Giyuu were just kids, given barely enough time to catch your breath and begin processing your grief after final selection when you were sent on your first mission together. The fight was messy and hard. Other slayers died. You survived, and that was a burden you both would always carry.
By the end of the fight, the pair of you were so exhausted you could barely stand. Giyuu's sapphire eyes stared at the snow-covered ground as the demon's body crumbled to ash and was lost to the wind. Your comrade’s bodies remained along with the guilt. The weight of everything sat atop you both, crushing and relentless; the loss and responsibility far too great for hearts so young to bear. 
You were hurting but so was he. Giyuu’s heart has been hurting since the day he emerged from that accursed mountain and stood unblinking in the wisteria grove. Back then you hadn’t known how to comfort that scared, silent boy, but as he sat beside you on that first mission, you reached out and offered him simple solace. You held his hand.
“Giyuu,” you said, “stay with me. It’ll be okay.”
His hand was small and trembling back then, calluses barely formed and skin peeling where the hilt of his blade had rubbed away the top layers. The skinned peaks of his little knuckles broke your heart, even though your hands were just as small and battered.
His hand just hung loosely in yours as you curled your fingers around it. But he didn’t try to pull away. He simply let it be. 
You kept a hold of his hand all the way back home.
“Thank you,” he said solemnly as you finally parted ways at a fork in the road. Those were the first words he had ever spoken to you.
As he walked down the road toward his village, your hand flexed around empty air. You missed the warmth. 
The next mission you were sent on together ended in much the same way. And the next. And the next. 
It became a habit. He would come to your side when the fight drew to a close, his hand nudging yours, inviting you to take it. He never spoke much– which you didn't mind at all; his presence was comforting enough for you. Some said he was weird. Others that he was too haughty to speak. You quickly silenced those whispers. 
Giyuu was just quiet and sad, carrying so much on his shoulders. And though you barely knew a thing about him, he was your friend. So, after every mission you found yourselves on together, after every death, you held Giyuu’s hand.
But the years passed and he climbed the ranks faster than you did. The silent boy became a stoic man; his hand feeling larger, rougher, and heavier after every mission. Before long your fingers couldn't surround his fully, but you still tried. And despite the strength of his grip on the hilt of his blade, he remained passive in the gesture, his fingers never once curling to squeeze yours.
Then, Giyuu became a Hashira, tasked with eradicating demons far stronger than you could even attempt to fight. Your missions together grew fewer and farther between.
You missed him; missed the weight of his hand in yours, the constant comfort of his presence, the deep blue shade of his eyes. A hollow, almost painful feeling surged in your chest wherever you thought of him, but there wasn’t time to dwell. There were demons to kill, lives to save. You took the ache and pushed it down, burying it beneath your responsibility. 
And then the time came when you were charged with leading a squad of lower rank slayers on a mission. Your quiet friend was engaged elsewhere, and at that point you hadn't seen him for months. Perhaps you never would again.
You tried not to think about him.
The mission went badly. Your entire group was wiped out. All of them, even the kids you'd silently sworn to protect from harm. The grief and the guilt were crushing. If only you'd been a split-second faster, if only you'd stood an inch the the left, if only your instincts hadn't told you to duck.
You sent your crow to fetch help, and tortured yourself with what-ifs, sitting on the earth in that forsaken forest. Waiting… surrounded by shrouded little figures. Two days later a troop of kakushi arrived to clean up and recover the bodies as you stood numb, staring… lost.
You were so close to disassociating entirely that you almost missed the glimpse of Giyuu's haori in the corner of your eye. Even when you registered what you had seen, you doubted your senses. Why would he be there? There was no need for a hashira; the demons were all gone. But no… your grief-stricken mind hadn't lied. He was there. For you. 
He approached you silently, standing by your side, his knuckles brushing against the back of your hand. A moment later he curled his fingers around yours, firm, reassuring, but so gentle.
"I heard what happened and came as soon as I could,” he said. 
"I should have protected them." Your voice trembled.
"I know it hurts. You can't blame yourself." His hold on you tightened. "Not even for a moment."
"Giyuu–"
His lips parted for a moment at the sound of his name coming from your lips, but he quickly recovered his composure. "Come with me."
Down the mountain he led you, away from the horrors, his hand cradling yours the entire way. His grip never once faltered. Even when you reached a village tucked away among the foothills. He brought you to a house whose door was painted with a wisteria seal. 
He had the mistress of the house fetch a doctor to check over your injuries, which were miraculously minor, and told her that yes, you would require food and tea when you couldn't summon the words yourself. To your surprise, he knew exactly how you liked your tea brewed and what foods you liked, even though you had never talked about it. It seemed he had paid close attention to your preferences over the years. 
He stayed by your side, guiding you gently through that difficult day. When the time came for you to rest, your hands remained linked across the space between your futons.
The sounds of his soft, slumbering breaths lulled you to sleep. And for the first time you could remember, you slept well.
When morning came, you awoke to the warm, comforting security of his embrace, your face pressed to his shoulder, and his fingers still entwined with yours. Sometime during the night you had rolled across to his futon and burrowed into his arms. 
With a gentle murmur he began to wake and opened his eyes a little; a sliver of deep blue appeared half-concealed beneath his thick black eyelashes.
His breath audibly caught in his chest at the sight of you curled against him, but he didn't move. Neither did you. 
Giyuu's shallow breaths fanned across your brow as you gazed into his eyes, caught in the duality of wondering if you had unintentionally crossed a boundary and feeling as though you were exactly where you were supposed to be.
"Is this okay?" you whispered.
He nodded once, and his hand gently tightened around yours. "Please… stay with me."
Heart thrumming against your ribs, you raised your interlocked hands to your lips and pressed a slow, tender kiss to each of his scarred knuckles. “Always.”
A sharp exhale blew across your forehead. You heard him swallow before he mirrored the gesture, his lips brushing against your aching hands, as soft and tender as new leaves warmed by morning sun. And when he had kissed each knuckle, he pressed a long, slow kiss to the pulsepoint of your wrist, closing his eyes, pulling in a deep breath.
Outside the world carried on as normal; birds sang, people chattered, carts rolled down the streets, but in your shared sanctuary everything changed. You repaid the kiss to your wrist with a kiss to his shoulder. He gave you an achingly soft kiss to your temple. You pressed your lips to his cheek, and he exchanged it for a kiss to the very corner of your lips which curved into a smile to mirror his own.
You were both breathless, pink-cheeked and dizzy with trepidation as the space between you closed and he touched the very tip of your nose with his. The warmth of his breath against your lips stirred up butterflies in your stomach. The hazy, almost drunk look in his eyes made your chest tighten. 
Bringing up his palm to cup your cheek, he stroked his thumb along its curve. He closed his eyes and kissed your lips; softer and lighter than mist at first, then deeper, and deeper. You might have missed the quiet moan which escaped him if not for the vibration against your fingertips which pressed lightly to the hollow of his throat.
Kisses cascaded between you, each deeper than the last. Giyuu moaned again as you slid your tongue over his bottom lip, opening his mouth to permit your entry. With every new sensation he grew bolder, pressing his body against yours, sliding his hand down to your thigh to hitch it over his hip, rolling you onto your back with his weight and pressing you down, once more interlocking his fingers with yours.
The soft smile Giyuu had given you as you exchanged kisses faded, replaced by a silent intensity as he rocked his hips against you, shivering at the sensation. Both of you were clad in thin pajamas, and the shape of his body, as well as the heavy swell of his erection were unmistakable. He groaned as he felt the intoxicating heat of your pussy through your nightclothes, both of you desperately craving closeness in any form. 
“Please…” he whispered, the only word his mind could summon as he pressed his forehead to your shoulder, fighting with the compulsion to keep rubbing his cock against you.
Heat tingled on your cheeks as you nodded in consent. “Yes.”
You were no less desperate, wetness soaking through the fabric of your pajamas as he grinded against you again. 
You were both functioning on instinct as you pulled off your shirts, and Giyuu’s lips closed around your nipple, lapping at it with his tongue. He lifted his hips and the pair of you pulled down his pajama pants, freeing his erection. It wasn’t the first you’d seen, but it was by far the prettiest– gently curved toward his belly, crowned with a sweetly blushing tip and adorned with serpentine veins. It was also the largest you’d seen. By a long way. 
He must’ve noticed the widening of your eyes, or the trepidation written across your face at the sight of it, because he released your nipple and glanced down with a worried expression which made your heart ache.
“You’re big,” you explained, wrapping your hand around it and giving him an exploratory stroke. 
A choked cry burst from Giyuu’s lips as his cock twitched against your palm and a white rope of cum shot from the tip, spraying over your stomach. He hurried to clean it up with his pajama shirt and collapsed into you, burying his face against your neck, red with shame and arousal. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. Oh, Gods, I didn’t mean t–I’ve never felt anyone touch–”
“Giyuu…” You placed your hand on the back of his head and stroked his hair, gently and shushing him. “Stay with me, it’s okay.”
His breaths blew hot and heavy against your collarbone, each one accompanied by a ragged whimper until the sensation of your fingers threading through his hair calmed him. “I don’t think I’m done,” he said, lifting himself up and glancing down at his cock. He was still erect, a pearl of cum dripping from the tip. “I…don’t want to stop… please…”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure. Please don’t stop.”
You smiled and spread the cum over the blushing head with your thumb, arousal flushing your chest as his face darkened and his eyes fluttered shut. As much as you craved his touch, watching Giyuu fall apart was the most beautiful and delicious thing you had ever witnessed, and a part of you wanted that again and again. 
But Giyuu’s fingers gave yours a reassuring squeeze and then let go. He drew back away from your hands to kneel between your thighs. Inch by inch, he removed your pajama bottoms, kissing every bit of skin he exposed; your lower belly, your hips, your thighs, down to your knees. He removed the garment completely and glanced at your rosy face before his gaze fell reverently to your pussy. 
His lips were maddeningly soft as he kissed your cunt slowly, his tongue delving into your entrance as his groan curled your toes. His eyes flicked up to you, gaging your reaction before he traced the shape of your pussy lips, with his tongue. After each experimental caress his eyes returned to your face, so desperate to please, to give you everything he could. 
He lapped his tongue against your clit and your hips bucked toward him. “Fuck, Giyuu– that... Gods, yes–!”
Oh, there was nothing of the shy, quiet boy in his eyes then. Seeing your reaction, knowing he was pleasuring you well, tilted his lips into a smirk before they returned to their newfound purpose of driving you to absolute ecstasy. The blush on his cheeks spread as he licked at your clit, breaking away to breathe and circle it with the tip of his nose before continuing his kisses. His hot, wet mouth against your slick skin applying such divine pressure you couldn’t help but place your hand on the back of his head and sink your fingers into his thick, black hair, silently encouraging him to go on.
His name tumbled from your lips as you fell apart, grinding against his mouth. He savored every drop of your essence. Everything was new and fascinating to him; the way your thighs tensed and trembled, the powerful throb of your muscles as you rode the waves of your orgasm. He adored it. He wanted to give you more. More pleasure, more kisses, more love. He needed it. 
 As you came back down to earth, Giyuu kissed your pussy with such affection and tenderness your heart ached. He desired you, deeply and truly.
“I want–” he began, losing his voice to his shaking breath. “I want to be closer to you… can I…?”
You sat up, still trembling, anchoring your hands on his shoulders as you kissed him. The taste of you remained on his lips, mingled with the comforting scent of him. You wanted it too. You needed to be closer, to feel him inside you. 
Pulling him back down, you stroked a hand up the back of his neck as the other pressed his cock between your folds, coating the tip of it in your slick before pushing it into you.
Despite the fact he had already cum, he was entirely unprepared for sensation of fucking you. His back arched, pressing his pelvis firmly against yours, bottoming out in you suddenly and eliciting a cry from both of you as his feet slipped against the futon for purchase.
“F—fuuuck,” he gasped, lowering his head and gritting his teeth as his arms trembled beneath him. It was all too much. 
His body pressed to yours entirely, craving intimacy and closeness. He didn’t thrust–he couldn’t– he simply ground his hips against yours, the base of his cock rubbing against your clit as he gasped and the crease in his brow grew deeper. He was hanging on by a thread, overwhelmed and desperate to hold on, to make it last, to–
“Giyuu,” you whispered, placing your hand on his, “stay with me.”
He nodded, intertwining his fingers with yours and pulling in a breath. “Always… always.”
You held each other’s hand; that simple, innocent gesture of love and comfort, now more meaningful than ever. For years you had shared grief and guilt, loss and loneliness and the sweet comfort and solace you found in each other. And now you shared this. 
Giyuu Tomioka, that quiet boy whose hand once trembled in yours, now held firm and just as securely as you did him.
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lvrhughes · 5 months
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How You Get The Girl | C. Bedard
1989 TV fics masterlist!
pairing: Connor Bedard x fem!reader
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings: none?
Summary: How Connor got the girl (you ever listen to the song? it's basically just that)
not my gif!
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“Are you insane? Get in here!” The panic in your tone as Connor stood on your doorstep, shaking from the rain, pale as a ghost, brought a smile to his face. “You’re soaked, what are you doing?”  The words coming out quickly as you ran to grab a towel, sifting through the linen closet in search, quickly wrapping it around his shoulders when you found one. 
“I was too scared to tell you what I want, I want you.” His words stunning you, standing still in front of him while the words washed over you. 
“What?” That was all you managed to get out, looking at him in shock. 
“For six months I’ve been so scared to tell you that I want you.” 
It had been a long six months. 
“Connor-” You started, quickly being cut-off by the boy. 
“No it’s okay if you don’t feel the same but you need to know that I love you.” 
“I love you.” You settled on, watching the calm cover his features compared to the stubble stress that covered before. 
“Really?” His voice filled with uncertainty, as if he thought he couldn’t trust what you’d just admitted. 
“I love you so much Connor.” You grinned, reaching up to latch your arms around his neck, his arms looping around your waist. 
“Can I kiss you?” He kept his voice quiet, leaning enough to almost touch you, barely not. 
Quickly nodding before leaning into him, pressing against him. Letting yourself melt into the kiss, him doing the same while you ran your hands through the damp ends of his hair. 
“Did you run over here?” You asked as he pulled away, almost panting for breath. 
“Maybe.” He grinned, pecking your lips again before picking you up, electing a squeal from your lips. 
“What are you doing?” you laughed as he walked through your house, carrying you bridal style to your room. 
“I’m cold and it’s late, we’re going to bed.” He smiled, pushing your bedroom door open with his foot before placing you on the bed. Digging through your closet for the clothes you’d stolen from him, ending with a pair of his sweats and a canucks t-shirt you had taken the other week. 
He quickly changed, ditching his wet clothes in favor of the warm, dry ones. He crawled in the bed beside you, laying before grabbing you, pulling you tight against him. Smiling at the boy as he did the same, looking down at you where you laid in his arms. 
“I’ve been wishing for this for six months.” He mumbled, kissing your lips once more before reaching over you, flicking off the lamp that sat on the bedside table. 
“You could’ve had me six months ago too.” You answered, curling impossibly closer into him while he sighed. 
“I wish I would’ve but I got you now and I’m not losing you anytime soon.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head, mumbling a goodnight before drifting to sleep. 
Pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks, scatters along your walls, every happy memory filled your space. Fighting to tear all the pictures down, taking them down to immediately put them back up again, tears flooding your eyes as you looked at them. The picture on your nightstand, you and Connor, at the annual fair, his lips pressed to your cheek as you smiled. He’d disappeared now, it felt as if he was hiding, staying away for some unknown reason to you. 
Knocking on your door pulling you from your trance, wiping the nearly dried tears from your cheeks, giving you notice of how long you’d been sitting there. 
“What’re you doing here?” 
“I must’ve lost my mind,” He started, his arms covering your body before you could react. “Leaving you without an explanation, God I had to have lost my mind.” He mumbled, kissing the top of your head. 
“What are you doing? Connor, you broke my heart!” You cried, subconsciously leaning into his hold as you sobbed. 
“I’m so sorry baby, one more chance that’s all I need. I broke your heart, I’ll put it back together.” His words are soft, keeping them in a gentle tone to keep comforting you. “It’ll be just like before, promise. I’ll never leave you again. I want you for ever and ever.”
Nodding against his chest, him looking down at you. Looking back up at him, nodding again while the smile grew on his lips. 
“I get another chance?” He asked. 
“One more.” You nodded. 
His movements quick, pressing a kiss to your lips before you could even think, his arms holding your body against his as he kissed you. 
“I’ve missed you so much.” He mumbled against your lips, leading you towards your room. 
He moved back, reaching to open your door, leading you into your room. His eyes scanning the walls, the same as he’d remembered. 
“You kept all the pictures?” His eyes traveled in awe, stopping to admire each picture.
“I couldn’t get rid of them.” Admitting it in a tone barely above a whispered, his eyes snapping back to yours quickly. 
“I love you so much,” His eyes staring at yours, softening his expression with each word. 
“I love you, too.” You smiled, moving towards his arms before he fell onto your bed, laying with your body on top of his. 
“I want you for worse or for better, I would wait for ever and ever,” HIs hands held yours as you stood, on some random pier in Vancouver, his jacket wrapped around your body to protect you from the wet cold he grew up with. “I broke your heart, I put it back together, I want you for ever and ever.” 
Tears flooding your waterline as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a simple velvet box in one hand. 
“It’s not a proposal,” He clarified, earning a small laugh from you. “Not yet, it’s a promise ring, that I’ll love you for ever and ever.” 
“Connor,” His hand coming up to wipe away the stray tear that fell. “I love it, I love you.” 
He smiled, his hands coming up to place the ring on your finger, pressing a kiss to your hand before letting go. Letting you stare at the ring adorn your hand now before wrapping your arms around his shoulders to kiss him, tangling your hands through his hair while his encircled your waist. 
“This definitely means you’re going to marry me one day now right?” You grinned, whispering the words against his lips. 
“Definitely.” He smiled back, pressing another kiss to your lips.
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3lushkiii · 18 days
Text
Soaked nightmare - Sukuna Ryomen x Reader
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Synopsis: Ex-boyfriend Sukuna is struggling with your absence, stumbles to your apartment a mess.
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CW: alcohol, self harm, violence, other self-destructive behavior
This is my first ever one-shot! Any constructive criticism is very much appreciated! (P.S: English isn’t my first language, sorry if i use any words with the incorrect meaning!)
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Sukuna has always been a beast. He was rash, impulsive, downright stupid. He still is. He knew that, he was especially aware of it while dating you three years ago.
You were like a wisp of smoke in his hand, disappearing into the air as soon as he had his hands on you. He grabbed you once, clenched his fist tight, and prayed you’d stay.
Sukuna stopped drinking, stoped going to that shitty bar in the worst part of town just to come back home black or blue, or to not come home at all. You’d find him splattered outside your doorstep like a puddle after a few too many whiskeys, mumbling incoherently.
With you Sukuna was different, he’d try his hardest to be quiet, to be calm. He knew you deserved it, deserved a million times more than what that he could give. He enjoyed it while it lasted, how you willingly put your hands on him, how you made him a crazy good omelette sometimes, how you kissed his temple before bed. He wondered why you weren’t scared, why this scarred and tattooed man didn’t make you shake like a leaf in the wind. But he was glad he didn’t.
You knew he could do whatever if he wished, even hurt you, it always lingered in the back of your head, but it never surfaced. Not until that day, in a fit of anger, a petty argument about him disregarding his health, his job, his life—his large palm collided with your cheek. His head got too loud, the thoughts he felt you drowned out only got louder. He knew he fucked up, when he saw the words die on your tongue, when he saw you freeze over in shock. He knew then and there, that he’d forever lost you. He saw the thoughts you’d never considered as possible surface in your mind.
And as you left, he realized he never held that tantalizing wisp of smoke. He just kept his fist closed and assumed it was in his grip. That you were tied to him like he was tied to you—and in an instant, his North Star, his guiding light, left him.
Sukuna doesn’t know how he found himself at your apartment door, absolutely soaked in the rain, droplets trickling down familiar pink strands of hair. He looks down at you, that familiar face, and he almost feels like he can see the red mark on your cheek from years ago. The guilt gnaws at his insides, like a parasitic alien in his gut. And the only way this so called ‘parasite’ would stop tormenting him is with random flings, alcohol, tattoos, and the occasional pain—inflicted either by a random fight he’d start, or by his own means. Anything to dull the pain of the gaping hole your absence left in him.
His gaze was all you needed, you gave a simple nod and stepped aside to allow him into the familiar apartment you owned. Sukuna sat down on the leather couch in your apartment, silent as a mouse. The apartment is clean, cleaner than we he stayed here, filling the place with the scent of cigarettes, throwing around beer bottles galore. His gaze is downturned, and he brushes strands of his hair aside, ignoring the wet footsteps he left on your pristine hardwood floors—he muttered out a “Just for the night.” And you complied.
You grabbed a spare indigo blanket and a pillow, giving them to him quietly. Its still tense, staring at the man you used to hold dear like he’s a stranger. He offers a nod in acknowledgment, scarred hands grabbing the soft blanket and pillow as he lays down, in a familiar apartment, with a person he holds dear, but far out of his reach. That wisp of smoke. That wisp of smoke who let a wretch like Sukuna still stay at their clean apartment after he put his hands on them. He could never forgive himself.
He stares at the ceiling, his soaked clothes sticking to his body like a second skin. He wants to let out a sob, he’s sorry, he’s so very sorry about what he’s done to you. If only he could crawl into your embrace just this once, sleep without those agonizing dreams replaying in his head of the night you left, of the silence in his apartment, of the passing days where he felt all traces of your presence fade. The cleanliness, the smell, the cooking, it was all gone.
He presses the base of his palm over his face, nearly pushing his eyes out on the other side of his head. He even sees those little rainbow flashes of light under his eyelids. He really cant tell when his eyes are open or closed from the dark, except for the sliver of light coming from the crack in your door. You always were like a guiding light, how touché.
He knows it’s wrong, he shouldn’t have snuck into your bed. But he misses you, how he misses your tender kiss, how those compliments and promises at something more slipped from your lips like you were made to say them. He’s just so sorry, sorry for wetting your bed with his clothes, sorry for ever raising a hand to you, for driving you away from him.
“Sorry,” he whispered, his muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as he relishes in your warmth. He never forgets what pushing you away did to him. It ruined him, permanently scarred him, literally.
“Sorry.” He mutters once more, noticing your eyes flutter open. He just wants you to let him have this, this one thing. He may just go mad if he’s denied this, if he cant be next to you anymore. God, maybe he already is crazy. He yearns for your simple warmth, this touch, more than the flings, than the passionate embraces with other women. The vile things he’s done in bed with others can never measure up to you. He may never admit how much he years for true intimacy instead of a fleeting touch from a random blond at the bar.
“Sukuna?” Your eyes flutter open, the uncomfortable feeling of water on your neck jolts you awake. Your voice is quiet, holding a twinge of confusion more than any fear. It��s beginning to be hard to fear a man who just seems so… small.
“M’cold, soaked to the fuckin’ bone,” Sukuna’s response is quick, but quiet, the same old rough voice. Its not how it was, yet why does he sound like it is? He’s burried in the crook of your neck, his weight pressed against your body as he lays there. His breath hits your skin, feeling more and more uneven with each breath. “Sorry, i forgot to give you a towel.” You apologize softly, your features contorting into a mix of regret and pity. He doesn’t seem alright, he looks like a wet cat. Sukuna feels pathetic, he knows he looks like a damn puppy on the side of the street. He’s never thrown his pride aside so easily, so quickly for a sliver of the paradise that is your embrace.“Yeah, I’m fucking soaked.” He scoffs, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt, his tone more harsh than intended. When has he ever been okay in the few years since your split? He can’t remember the last time he was alright without you. It doesn’t really exist.
He’s a hollow husk parading around like a man, filling his life with booze, sex, violence and substances to see if it’ll drown out the voice in his head scorning him for his stupidity. At how he pushed the walking angel he’s laying on out of his life so carelessly, how he had the sheer audacity to think he could lay a hand on you.
He grumbles, the words unable to leave his lips as he nuzzles the column of your throat. His expression almost hard to decipher. Like those paintings where you cant tell if the subject is looking at you or away from you—you cant tell if he’s sad or just numb. “M sorry, fuck—” His voice cracked, breath hitching. He couldn’t cry, monsters like him didn’t have the right to tears. “Just needed ya’.”
“Let’s get you dry, sit down.” You mumble, your voice quiet from being recently woken from your sleep. Sukuna freezes, sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s surprised. Surprised at how easily you command him without even trying. He sits down, looking over at you without a word.
You come back to the room with a towel and some clothes, and he eyes the sweatpants and hoodie carefully. Something seems familiar, but he cant place his finger on it. “You couldn’t sleep?” You ask, standing in front of him, a towel on his head as you dry his hair yourself. Sukuna has never been the best at caring for himself, it always felt better when you did it. He cared for himself most when he was with you, because it made you smile at him, look up at him with that pretty expression. “Nah,” he says dryly, looking down, not a word of protest to his hair being dried like hes a child. Honestly he enjoys it, enjoys feeling your touch. No matter if this pesky towel is in the way.
He holds the fresh clothes in his hands, looking down as he comes to a realization. Thats his hoodie, these clothes are all his. The cigarette burns carefully etched into the black cotton, the fading grafic of a band he knows you don’t like on the front. He wondered where this hoodie went, he thought he’d just lost it. But you kept it, you kept his hoodie after all this. It just makes him feel like a monster.
He curses himself for hoping it brought you comfort, he curses himself for even daring to think you were comforted by a little remanent of him in your life. He should assume you kept his hoodie in a box under your bed, collecting dust. But when he’s hit with the sweet scent of you from the hoodie, his assumptions are proven right. You wore the damn thing, your familiar smell is woven into the fibers of the hoodie. He wished he could weave you into the fibers of himself, he could laugh at himself for envying a hoodie.
“How’ve you been, Sukuna?” You ask casually, trying to lighten the mood as you dry his hair. “Fine,” he spits out, the only words he can say right now are ‘fine’ or ‘sorry’. You look down at him, a frown on your face from the lack of detail. He stands up abruptly, peeling off his soaked shirt as he wears the hoodie. It smells like you. He finds himself bringing the collar of the hoodie up to his nose just to get a whiff of your comforting scent, like a man starved. He carefully slips the sweatpants on, the soaked clothes a little puddle of fabric on the floor as he sits back down.
You worry, worry about what hes doing, because he doesn’t appear to be fine. Far from it. “That’s not what i asked.” You say, your voice a bit firmer. You expect a response, a real response to your question instead of a nod or a hum. “S’been shit,” he says, shrugging his shoulders as he speaks in that gruff tone of voice. He isn’t really living, just making it through the days. He’s waiting out his clock, counting the days since you left. What is there to even do when the one person who kept him anchored to this shithole of a world left? All because of him.
“Drink, smoke, fuck, work, repeat” He says, trying to be a bit more specific to make this simple conversation last a bit longer. Anything to hear your sweet voice, no matter what you say to him. Cuss him out, say he’s a prick, tell him he has no future, he wont care. The way you dry his hair, care for him so tenderly, he’ll never care. He just yearns to be yours again. “Thats all?” You ask softly, trying to keep your obvious judgement to yourself. Hes not your boyfriend anymore, you have no right to nag at him to be healthy or careful anymore. But oh, how he longs to hear you nag at him again. “Just that?” You question, raising a brow in curiosity. “Nothing else?”
Sukuna looks up at you, a heavy sigh leaving his chest as his shoulders drop. “Can’t seem to stay out of trouble without ya, y’know?” he mumbles, trying to resist the urge to pull you closer, to feel you one more time. He just doesn’t know what else to say, he cant admit all the stupid things hes done without you there. How he went totally batshit crazy once, how he nearly died choking on his own vomit when he drowned himself in alcohol. He cant tell you all the new scars he’s inflicted on himself, all the substances he takes, all the times he’s been taken to the police station for another petty bar fight.
“Any new tattoos?” You ask, looking down at him. Sukuna nods, scratching his scalp as he speaks. “Few,” he replies. “A couple random ones. This one—“ he pulls the fabric of his sleeve up, exposing a tattoo on his forearm. Kanji going vertically down the limb, with delicate vines and flower blooming in between the bold ink. “Is for you. Always regretted driving you away.” His admission is vulnerable, crimson eyes scanning your face to gauge your reaction. Its definitely for you, Sukuna doesn’t get these delicate and soft tattoos. You expected maybe a heart or something with your initial, but this is art. It’s something he got done while sober, thats obvious.
“For me?” Your brows raise in surprise, a bit confused. You grab his arm, looking at the tattoo more intently. “This was a bad decision, you know that, right?” You say in frustration, slightly frustrated to still be tied to a man you tried your hardest to forget.
“Course it was a bad decision.” He replies nonchalantly, trying to ignore the weird feeling in his chest. “Ain’t that what I’m best at?” He’s been a wreck without you, even got a tattoo to keep any part of you with him. Trying to drown out his head in anything, leaning toward alchool and nicotine for the normal days, substances and violence for the days that were quite hard to deal with. He remembers the day he got the tattoo vividly, which is a surprise considering any days without you faded from his memory as soon as they came. His head felt full of you, and nothing else.
“For all its worth—“ You pause, looking down at him with a slight frown. You gaze at the tattoo once more, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and art is subjective. But his memento to you, “It’s beautiful.” You comment softly, deciding not to scorn his decision this time. And it truly is beautiful.
“Means alot,” his voice holds a twinge of joy, hands move up to grasp at the towel, inked fingers brushing against yours. “You�� it’s late, you should sleep.” His tone lacks any true conviction, his gaze moving up to your face, trying to read your expression. And the pity and concern on your face makes him want to rip his hair out. “I can’t let you sleep with wet hair, you’ll get a headache.” You comment, carefully drying strands of poorly dyed pink hair. Sukuna wants to reach out and pull you close, to wrap his arms around you and hit himself as many times as you say just to get your forgiveness.
“I’ve been through plenty of headaches, baby.” He says, eyes falling shut as he forces himself to stay awake. The nickname leaves his lips so naturally, he forgets he has no right to call you that anymore. He cant do anything without knowing you forgive him or not. He wants you back, he needs you back or he might just lose it. He can feel himself unravel by the day, he’s almost lost his grip. Didn’t know how much he needed you till you were gone.
“Sukuna, you alright?” You break the long silence, features the picture of a worried lover. It makes his heart clench. Just look at you, how could you gaze at a man like him with such tenderness? How do you touch him without recoiling in disgust? God, how he misses you.
“Do i look alright to you?”
“Not really...”
“Exactly.”
You look down at him, a heavy breath leaving your chest as you remove the towel, looking down at him. His eyes seem glazed over, like hes not fully in the moment. Sukuna knows you see it, and hes trying not to focus on you too much or he might just burst into ugly tears. “Missing ya, every second of every day.” He mumbles, gently taking your hands as he allows the briefest brush of his lips across your knuckles.
“Do i scare you?” He blurts out.
“What?”
“I won’t blame you if i do, just tell me.”
You pause for a moment, looking down at him as he holds your hands close to his lips. “Not right now.”
“Other times?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” He cocks a brow. “Like when i hit you?”
Your voice is awkward, your gaze averted from his tender affections. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” He cranes his head up to gaze at you, breathing deeply to steady himself. He almost thought you’d be joking, but seeing your expression solidifies it for him. He’s been thrown off guard. He knew he frightened you that day, hearing you admit it is just more horrid. He just wishes he wasn’t so damn scary. “‘M sorry,” The words can’t form in his brain, let alone leave his lips.
Apologize to her, say something! Im sorry, im sorry for hitting you, im sorry, i love you!
“I still care about you, ya know?”
“I know, Sukuna.”
“You care too.”
“...”
“Been shit without you, baby. Im going crazy here.” He chucks dryly, not a hint of humor in his tone. It’s not funny, he’s serious, he’s off the rails without you. He needs you there, to keep him on a leash, to be there for him, to put your hand on his shoulder to make sure he doesn’t blow up at some granny in the grocery store for being slow. To gently help him after a hangover, to clean his bloody knuckles after another fight.
“You’re not crazy. Just hurting.”
“In other words—im crazy.”
“Its been years, why?”
“Why what?”
“Why all of this? Why are you hurting? The tattoo, coming to my house, looking at me like… that!” You blow up, face the picture of hurt as you look down at him. Why does he torment you like this? You already struggled with the split, he cant come to your house and look at you so sweetly, speak so gently.
“Cause i need ya,” he mumbles, fingers intertwining with yours. “Cause i love you.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Its the truth, you know I’m bad at lying to ya’.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“I want you to hear it.”
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