#THE BLOOD it just kinda generates. it's just Like That. it's not coming from anywhere and it isnt going anywhere | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rinhaler · 5 months

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DEATH IS NO MORE !

you know you shouldn't be here, right? what would possess you to visit an underground fight club? one of the fighters is kinda cute though...

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ underground fighter!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot Notes: ty penny for beta reading again! picturing sukuna like this art by @innaillus bc i have had nothing else on my mind for days. Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, violence, blood ♡, daddy!kink, size difference ♡, age gap, degradation, fingering, orgasm denial, pussy spanks, dacryphilia, finger sucking, vaginal sex, choking ♡, creampie, squirting ♡, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby). Words: 10k

As your heels snap against the pavement, you can almost feel the pulsing bass from the music surge from your toes and throughout your entire nervous system. The music is loud enough to hear, even from a distance, and it only gets louder as you step closer and closer to the abandoned warehouse.

You shouldn’t be here.

The voice is yours, internally. Though it feels like an out of body experienced as you venture head first towards a destination you have no business being anywhere near. The music muddies your thoughts. It’s confusing you, deeply.

Is there a dress code?

That doesn’t matter, because you shouldn’t be here.

The bass is hypnotic. That pounding bass that makes you feel weak and ethereal all in one dizzying bout. It’s like you’re going to a rave, though you’re not even close to being dressed the part. You’ve been at work all day. The last thing you should be doing is trespassing into a building that has been off limits for five years.

You just couldn’t resist, this.

Not with the rumours flying around and the hushed whispers of secrecy luring you in to investigate for yourself.

With the double doors in sight, you finally see that the entrance is being manned. Is it security or just a ticket holder? You aren’t sure you want to find out. They might take one look at you and shoo you away. There’s no way you can leave until you get what you came for.

You slip out of sight as you see another pair of men get out of a car parked near the entrance and approach. Your breathing is egregious, though you try to calm it. The adrenaline swirling through your every vein and muscle is enough to make you pass out. But the agonising desire to enter and see the truth for yourself is holding you steady.

$100 for a ticket.

“Christ.” you whisper to yourself.

You put your hand in your pocket and fish out your purse. As you open it and begin to look, you halt. The way your hands are trembling is abnormal, even for being this worked up. The pumping of your heart transfers to your brain. The pink, mushy organ pounds dramatically against the inside of your skull, and really, you think melodic beat of the music inside must be slithering its way into the creases of your braincells.

There’s a pain behind your eyes. You feel a migraine coming on and you’re all too familiar with the agonising feeling as you often leave your work days suffering from them.

You deepen your breaths in a bid to steel yourself. And eventually, you find the money to pay the fee. So you wait, patiently, for the other two men to enter the warehouse before you reveal yourself from the shadows. There’s an air of confidence to you as you approach the entrance.

Though it fades, slightly, as the man holds his hand up like a crossing guard.

“Women don’t come around here,” he starts, checking a clipboard that looks too small in his comically large hands. He flips through the pages and then looks at you again. “You’re not on the list.”

“I have the fucking money.” you tell him, slapping it on top of his stupid clipboard hard enough for him to almost drop it. He tries to stop you as you attempt to barge by him, though it isn’t a strict action.

More like a warning.

“It’s not a sight a lady should see, I think.” he tells you, still putting your hard earned money into a tin of other generous donations, you expect. His eyes focus on your own as he continues to speak. “You’re rich. Expensive clothes… shouldn’t have worn those here. Gets messy. Be careful.” he tells you. And with that, you enter the warehouse and heed his warning.

You walk slowly, but with purpose. A chill stabs down your spine as you approach a flight of stairs a group of men are running down. They wolf whistle upon seeing you and it curdles in your stomach. You try to keep your head held high as you climb and follow the sound of that intoxicating bass. Wherever the music is coming from is surely the source of the action, too.

The time of day is indicative of the lighting. It’s pitch black outside and it it’s even darker, still, in the warehouse. Though the moonlight manages to break in through the shattered windows enough to illuminate your path.

There’s a smell that you’re beginning to notice that invades your senses. A potent stench that is so specifically masculine and territorial. It’s sweat. Blood, too.

Once you get to the top of the stairs, there are double doors with a red light bleeding through the cracks. The music is louder, too, as well as the vociferous shouting being contained solely by the big, heavy duty doors.

And now, truly, you worry things have gone too far. The doors part and you slink into the shadows, still approaching without hesitation. You’re scared. God, terrified, really. But the adrenaline keeps you from retreating. There’s one goal you have in mind, and once complete, you can return back to your peaceful, suburban life.

A man holds the door as he waits for a friend to leave with him. You watch them walk away together, bragging about their earnings before you slip inside inconspicuously.

The red light contrasts from the rest of the building. And you think your retinas might explode from the change, you don’t let it divert your attention, though. But it’s hard to deny how distracted you are.

As the atmosphere has changed you begin to feel heady from the scent of sweat and testosterone. You do your best to continue undetected as you try to keep to the edges of the crowd. But a few eyes find you. Nudging and laughing when they see a woman, God forbid, enter their sacred male space. You notice there’s no malice mostly. It’s more leering and ogling despite doing all you can to not give them any attention or feed into their sex drive.

But you scream.

Scream could even be an understatement as you feel a tight squeeze on your upper arm flesh yank you away from the crowd and into the background of the room. Your adrenaline seems to die the instant one red eye matching the ambient lighting filling the room like a brothel in a red light district stare into yours.

Half of his face is covered by some sort of black mask.

Protecting his battle wounds, you assume.

There are a few laughs and stares before they’re pulled back to the main attraction. There’s a feeling of embarrassment rushing through you, but you can barely dwell on it as you look up at the man who had dragged you away so carelessly.

He’s easily the tallest man you’ve ever met. At least 6’5 and towering above you like you’re a puny child as you try and stand confidently beneath him. But the little gasp you emit when he bends down to whisper in your ear gives you away, instantly. He smirks, knowing just how scared you are. He knows just how worried you are and how out of your depth you are.

“And just what is a fragile little thing like you doing in my club?” he asks, a tantalising lilt in his words that would have your knees folding like outdoor furniture if you didn’t have one reason and one reason alone for being here. He pulls away from your ear, an intimidating glare staring back at you as he waits for an answer. “You don’t look like you can fight. Not that I’d allow it, anyway.” he tells you.

“I’m looking for someone.” you blurt out, unsure if you should have said that or kept it to yourself. It’s too late, now, and you see a sadistic smile transform his ravenous expression into one of sheer entertainment.

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’ve got a boyfriend you’re worried about fighting here.” he laughs, and it doesn’t go unnoticed how his eyes move from your face to your breasts. They’re covered, entirely. The decision to wear a turtleneck for work has come back to bite you as the sweltering heat feels enough to knock you unconscious.

It’s suffocating.

He isn’t really looking at your tits, however. His eyes instead seem to hone in on the silver necklace you’re wearing. And you can see how his eyes squint as he tries to think of anyone fighting here who’s initial begins with M before letting his dirty mind race at the thought of the letter slipping between your cleavage had you opted to wear something a little more revealing.

“You look like a cop, sweetheart. Not a good place for you to be all by yourself.” he informs you. A cop? You hadn’t even thought about how you’d stand out in that way. “I don’t need the fuzz poking around here, what do you want?” he asks, his voice a little more pointed and venomous as he raises your necklace with a single finger to toy with it.

If you weren’t so frozen in fear, you would have backed away and hid your necklace down your sweater. But you were scared, statuesque. The only movement you were able to perform was moving your lips.

A pretty trait for you to possess, he thinks.

“My brother is here, I think.” you tell him, calmly, hoping your honesty will earn you some favour in his eyes. His eyebrow quirks as he thinks about you possessing a family resemblance to anyone here. “He’s underage.”

He smiles at that. The pieces suddenly all fall into place as he knows exactly who you’re talking about. And he parts space between you both, grabbing the collar of your white, wool coat and pulling you along with him. The two of you get through the crowd with ease until you’re standing at the front.

A shriek leaves you as the losing opponent hurtles towards you, though your self-appointed escort gets in his way before your clothes can become ruined by the blood that has now smeared on your saviour’s skin. You’re sure he’s thankful that he wore a black vest so that you can’t really see the stains on it. Realistically, he probably doesn’t care, you think.

He wouldn’t be running a fight club if he cared about something as tedious as stains.

As he moves out of the way to reveal the victor, your own blood begins to simmer and spill from you. Megumi raises his arms triumphantly, spitting a glob of blood onto the ground next to the wounded man he’s evidently just beaten to a bloody, unconscious puddle. And you could tear his head off with your bare teeth with the rage that you feel.

But you can’t.

Not when the man who led you here steps into the makeshift ring of people surrounding them and hands him his earnings. And your brother smiles, gratefully, as he accepts and counts it.

“There’s someone here to see you, kid.” he tells him, tilting his head in your direction. Your foot taps against the dirty warehouse floor as you wait for him to notice you. And boy does he notice you. “Oh, are you that scared of her?” he laughs, noticing all of the colour draining from Megumi’s face as he processes the fact that you’re here. That you’re really here.

“The fuck are you doing here?!” he asks, running up to you and attempting to conceal the money as best he can. But it’s too late, you snatch it from his hand and look at him with contempt.

“Me? What are you doing here?! You’re seventeen! You’re not Tyler fucking Durden, Megumi.” you slap him upside the head and drag him away from the crowd. “I’m furious, I don’t even know where to start with you.” you tell him as you approach the heavy doors that are keeping this disgusting little community trapped in the sweaty, blood soaked room.

“Get off.” he shakes himself loose. “I left my stuff in Sukuna’s office.” he announces, leaving before you give him permission. You huff, following him up the steel stairs as you continue your onslaught of verbal abuse and anger at his sheer stupidity.

He should see a doctor, really. But you worry he’ll get in trouble if the police get involved. And he might end off worse, still, if he rats out this place and gets everyone else in trouble. It’s too much, you know you’ll have to cover for him.

You could cry, now. But you aren’t sure if it’s anger or genuine upset. And honestly, you don’t want him to see you cry over this. Weakness is not something you need him to see right now, you want to keep it together. You’re his guardian and you can’t be soft with him just because he’s your brother.

He picks up his gym bag from a locker in the room. Your eyes are laser focused on him, all of the trust you felt towards him is long gone. And now, you aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to take your eyes off him again.

“Megumi… how did you even get involved with this?” you ask him, earning nothing more than an infuriated grunt as if you have no right asking. How dare you care about him and his wellbeing when you’re all each other have? You want to scream, to fucking scream at him for being such an idiot. “I thought you were getting bullied at school. I asked you if—”

“Drop it. Can we just go?” he asks.

“Tsk.” you kiss your teeth. Your gaze suddenly stolen as the man you can only presume is Sukuna walks into the office like he owns the place. He does. You close the distance between yourself and Megumi as his sadistic boss sits on a comfy looking chair behind an old battered desk. “Give me your phone. Go wait in the car. Do not go anywhere.” you warn him as you hand him the car keys.

He sighs, placing his phone in your hand before turning to leave. You don’t look at him, though, too focused on Sukuna to even pay him any mind.

Your blood continues to boil, bubbling under the surface of your skin as you look at Sukuna. A smarmy smirk plastered on his face as he kicks his feet up onto the desk. So, Megumi leaves. He knows better than to push you when you’re this pissed.

“Before you start, princess,” Sukuna stands back up and circles around the desk. Your eyes vibrate with fury as you watch him, backing up as he gets too close. “I didn’t force him to do this.”

“Don’t call me princess.” you tell him, shutting down the cutesy pet name in an instant the minute you get an opening to speak. You rest you hand on your hip as you point at him furiously. It’s rude, you know it’s rude, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not after seeing your little brother like that. “He’s just a kid. I don’t want him involved in this stuff, I’m trying to be a good role model and you’re fucking everything up. He’s not coming back, ban him.”

“Fuck no.” he chortles. “He might be a kid but he’s good. I pay well. ‘n I like him, I do. He’s a moody little brat but he makes me laugh and earns me a shit ton. I’m not banning him for you. Or anyone.”

“Maybe I should call the police, see what they have to say about all of this.” you threaten, immediately regretting it, when the smile drops from his face and is replaced with something akin to bemusement. He hadn’t expected you to threaten him. But the incredulous stare is soon replaced by another smile.

“You wouldn’t risk getting Megumi in trouble… nice try though.” he speaks, leaning back against his desk and crossing one ankle over the other as he folds his arms. He’s thinking. Genuinely thinking of a way to compromise. “What do you do?”

“I’m… a doctor.” you tell him. Earning a set of raised eyebrows and an amused scoff as he looks you over once more. He supposes it explains the fancy clothes and snooty attitude.

But—

“You’re too young to be a doctor, aren’t you?” he wonders.

“I’m a primary care physician.” you tell him. He nods in understanding, but you’re confused now. You shake away his questions and his interest in you before staring at him again with intent. “This needs to stop. I’m not going to call the police but I’m not letting my brother come back here, it’s too dangerous. He’s a child.”

“He’s a man, you’re babying him. He made three grand tonight, he’s earning money and staying out of trouble because he has an outlet for his anger.” Sukuna tells you. The amount of money he’s made surprises you, and you’re holding it in your coat pocket right now. He’s going to be down $100 after you take it out of his earnings, though. But still. Even you can’t deny that it’s impressive. “Stuck up princess. Snooty doctor. Think you can come in my fuckin’ club and tell me what to do? Fuck that.” Sukuna claims.

He doesn’t say anything else as he waits for you to speak. But, truthfully, you’re still thinking about Megumi. The fact that he needs an outlet for his anger is worrisome. You’ve tried to get him to see a therapist, but he isn’t interested in the least.

It’s been hard being a single parent to him when you’re too selfish and irresponsible to even look after yourself, let alone a teenage boy. He probably thinks you’re useless. You have no control over him, really. All you do is make sure he’s fed and has a place to sleep and get his school work done.

But after discovering this, you’re sure he hasn’t even been bothering to attend school.

“Oi.” Sukuna speaks, stealing your stare again as you’re finally brought out of your troubled gaze. “You’re a sheltered little princess, aren’t you? A place like this is just full of scum to you.”

“I don’t care about this.” you laugh, minimally, not really seeing the funny side but you have nothing else to offer by way of expression. He hesitates a little, seeing the defeated look in your eye. “The injuries and psychological damage these places can cause…”

“Not everyone’s got a fancy college education like you, girl.” he tells you, patronisingly, as if you don’t know that. But he doesn’t let you interrupt. “Some people need a quick buck to get out of trouble. Other’s like the thrill. But who the fuck are you to come into my club and tell us all we’re wrong? Comin’ in here in your doctor clothes… looking down your nose at us.”

“That’s not—”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re doin’, sweetheart.” he continues. “You get to sit behind a desk all day and tell people what pills to take to feel better and then go home to your cosy house in the suburbs without a care in the world.”

“Don’t fucking patronise me.” you warn him, though you don’t have the muscle or means to back it up. He reminds you a lot of how your dad used to be. You didn’t particularly take shit from him, and you certainly won’t be taking it from Sukuna if you can help it. “If you’re letting a seventeen year old walk away with three grand, I’m sure you’re making a lot more money than I am behind my desk. I work hard. You’re lining your pockets from other people’s pain.”

“Only a little,” he smirks at that, knowing you’re right but not entirely. “I fight. I bleed.”

And you scoff. It’s so fucking archaic and you can’t help but pace around with your hands on your hips as you try and decide where to even start with that. What can you say, really? Congratulations? No, definitely not. You stop in your tracks as you realise how close he is to you, now, deciding he wanted to close the gap between the two of you while your mind was elsewhere.

You breathe a little heavier as you fall backwards onto the couch behind you while he towers above you. His eyes rake over your body as he drinks you in. The slight fear lingering below the surface, shrouded by a cloud of false confidence as you do all you can to not succumb to his intimidation.

His arms almost cage you in.

Almost.

He’d let you free yourself if you tried to escape.

But you aren’t trying.

You’re just staring into his eye.

And he likes that.

“Watch me.” he orders. The sentence is soft but with a hard, seductive edge. It’s an offer despite it sounding like a command. You aren’t sure what he’s asking you to watch but your heart rate is imploring you to decline, whatever it may be. He tilts his head, it’s barely noticeable, and somehow you do notice. You notice the way his eye flits from your eyes to your lips. Not once, multiple times. He has no shame, he doesn’t care that you know he’s looking. He doesn’t act on it, anyway. “Watch me fight.”

“Pardon?” you ask, instantly. Bewildered that he would even dare to dream that you’d do something so idiotic. Your brother is waiting, patiently, for you to take him home. Unless he’s stolen your car, of course. But you’d like to think he knows he’s in enough trouble than to do something so stupid.

“You’ve never seen a fight. Watch the best at work, you might change your opinion. Watch me.” he repeats.

He watches as your eyes glaze over with a watery sheen, smirking. There is a breeze left in the wake of him quickly freeing your body from his caging arms and heading towards the entrance to his office. Your breathing is intense and your hands begin to shake. You think to text Megumi and check he’s okay, before remembering that you have his phone.

You look over your shoulder to see Sukuna leaning over the railing. He’s yelling about something but your ears are ringing in your confusion. The music isn’t helping, either. You look down at your phone to check the time, not even really taking it in before you place both Megumi’s and your own in each of your pockets.

Sukuna returns, entering with a cool swagger before leaning on the edge of his desk again.

“You’ve got ten minutes to decide.” he tells you.

Decide?

You’ve already decided. There’s no way you’re sticking around to watch him beat someone within an inch of their life. Or vice versa if his opponent proves to be too much. But with his physique and confidence, you doubt he’ll lose. And almost as if he’s read your mind, he smirks.

“I’m going to win.” he informs you, a cocksure grin saturating his lips as he drinks in your reaction to his words. You cross a leg over the other and fold your arms, still determined to remain and appear defiant as you listen to him. He can sense you’re weakening resolve, though. “I always win, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” you remind him, and he tuts in response. You can’t tell him what to do. You can try, but he won’t listen. And he hears the wavering in your words. Your desire to appear cold and callous towards him crumbling the longer you spend time in such close proximity to him.

“I think you like it.” he tells you, smiling. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m thinking.” you tell him in turn, scowling as you decide whether or not to leave right now or actually think this through. If you leave, you know your pride won’t allow you to change your mind.

“Don’t have all night for you’re thinkin’, doll.” he speaks. “Oh… I know, how about we make a little wager?”

“No.”

“Awe, c’mon, live a little.” he laughs, menially. He smirks as he hears you gasp whilst lifting you up like you’re nothing. He sits you down on his desk and for some reason you find yourself tightly wrapping your legs around his waist. Your chest heaves, panicked from the process. You aren’t sure how that happened and you can’t seem to shake any of it away. Not when your fingernails are digging into his biceps and your lips are ghosting each other’s. What is he doing? “How about if I lose, I’ll tell Megumi he can’t come around here anymore.”

“You said you’ll win.”

He smirks, at that. Scarred hands nip and grab at your entirely covered flesh. He wishes he could just rip the material off you right here, right now. But he wouldn’t feel right about sending you to your car in torn clothing, telling your little brother exactly what kept you busy for so long.

“That, I did…” he speaks as if recollecting an ancient memory. But he looks at you, eyes traversing your body again. “So what—”

“’m not betting with you. I know you’re gonna win.” you tell him, moving your head back slightly so your lips are no longing tracing each other. Instead, you’re looking at him intently. “You’re just trying to get me to agree to something that I won’t be able to back out of. ‘m not stupid.”

“No, you’re not stupid.” he agrees. He tucks some hair behind your ear and grabs your chin so that you can’t break your stare from his own. “I know we both want the same thing right now, though. That pride will do you no good, y’know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie, feigning ignorance as the heat between your legs begins to pool and seep into your panties. You hope he doesn’t notice. God you hope he doesn’t fucking feel it. You hope that your trousers will protect you, the fight should be starting soon. “I’m taking my brother home… but I hope you enjoy your little fight.”

“You’re not going anywhere or you would have left already.” he tells you, matter-of-fact. “The things I could say… I’m gonna say it all after I win.”

“I won’t be here. ‘n I’m not giving you my number.”

“You’ll be in the front fucking row watching me.” he sneers.

You inhale a sharp breath as he forcefully moves your head. A finger hooks into the collar of your turtleneck, lazily pulling it downward to reveal the bare skin of your neck. His lips are close, breath dancing over the expanse of your skin. It’s a battle to withhold the shudder that is creeping through your veins. It makes your eyes water, a tear threatens to spill but you refuse to let it. You weld your eyes shut as he continues to torment you, and they appear even more watery when you open them again. The way your body trembles is harder to mask, though it’s nearly imperceptible as you accept you need to release it. All you can do is hope that he hasn’t noticed.

But he does.

The intensity of your breathing increases as you think he might kiss your neck. Your eyes flutter shut in preparation, but all he does is tease. And when you feel a near empty chuckle fan across your neck, your eyes widen once more.

“It’s time, princess.” he tells you, pulling away completely. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, heading towards the exit to his office before turning back to face you. “Come.”

And like you’re a voice activated toy, you follow him. He quick steps down the stairs while you struggle in your heels. You cling to the railing as you descend, and he waits patiently for you at the bottom.

He’s agnate to a God in this warehouse. You see how people respect and admire him as he enters the room. People part for him so that he can walk through with ease with you in tow. You’re really going to watch an authentic fight.

You wonder how different it will be in comparison to movies. You’re scared, shaking, but part of you is telling you that you need to see it. You need to see the state that Megumi could one day end up in if you don’t scold him correctly.

“Should I go easy on him, sweetheart?” he asks, loud enough for the crowd to hear. “She’s going to decide your fate tonight, listen up.” Sukuna tells his opponent. You want to kill him yourself for drawing everyone’s attention to you. You struggle to find words, mouth drying every time it opens.

“Just… don’t kill him.” you shrug. “But don’t get yourself killed, either.”

He laughs, shrugging his shoulders too. Neither of them look scared, though you suppose that’s the point. Neither of them would be doing this if they didn’t think they could win. They wouldn’t be here if they were afraid of getting hurt.

“She wants me to go easy on you…” Sukuna smirks.

You watch, nervously, as they circle around the ring for a while. He looks at you, briefly, as you fiddle with your necklace as you try and occupy your mind.

A ragged breath leaves you as they both lunge at each other. The way Sukuna dodges and weaves away from each and every attempt that should be hitting him is almost like watching a beautiful ballet.

It’s art, here.

Between these walls and amongst this audience. It is a true art form that is celebrated and enjoyed. The casualties don’t matter, not even a little. Everyone is a willing participant, even you, now. You could have left but decided not to.

It’s for Megumi, you tell yourself.

You need to be better and act better for him. And you can’t possibly do that without the knowledge of how truly dangerous this can be.

But now, seeing it for yourself, you’re starting to understand.

Sukuna is strong. Heavy fists affix themselves to his opponents face again and again until he’s on the ground. Blood pours from the man’s nose and you think he might suffocate from lost teeth and gurgling blood pooling in his throat.

And Sukuna… he’s been starved of this.

You start to think that maybe he doesn’t fight as regularly as he claims. It seems too easy for him, now. No one can beat him, so what’s the point? But he has missed this feeling. The feeling of seeing blood gush from an adversary who whole-heartedly believed they could take him on.

He takes pleasure in it, violence. Particularly the brand inflicted by him. He profits from it regularly, but this is a rare treat nowadays. He’s happy to sit in his office and let idiots do what idiots do as long as his pockets and wallet fill with each event.

This fight… it was on a whim.

Was it just to impress you?

He straddles his opponent as he repeatedly smashes the same fist into his face again and again and again. And he’s laughing. It’s maniacal, borderline insane laughter as you see blood spatter and clots form and congeal against the poor man’s skin.

And why…

Why are you loving this?

You can practically feel hearts and glitter adorning your eyes as you watch on in horror, unable to turn away. You’re mesmerised by it. You should be ashamed, really, you’re meant to be a doctor.

If you were a good person, you’d be breaking this up. You’d be rushing to the man’s side and calling an ambulance to help him. Instead of watching on in astonishment, you should be doing all you can to keep him alive after such a vicious assault. But instead, you’ve sunken to the balls of your feet so that you can be on their level and watch each and every punch land with excruciating detail. You don’t want it to stop. You could watch this forever.

Watch him forever.

You’re sick.

This is sick.

“Sukuna!” you yell, standing upright again and looking down at him. He stops short of landing one final blow to his opponents bulging and split nose so that he can look up at you. There’s worry in your eyes, and it makes his brows furrow. His eyes squint as he examines you. He isn’t sure how to read you or what you might be thinking. But he realises worry isn’t the only thing lingering behind those glimmering, wide eyes.

Something else entirely resides there that he’s longed to see since the moment he set eyes on you.

“Sorry, I got carried away.” he speaks down to the near dead man beneath him. “Were you done or did you want to keep going?”

“D… Don—”

“Thaaaaat’s great.” he responds to the man’s choked attempt to end the fight. Sukuna jumps to his feet, barely a scratch on him, and walks by you without looking back. You hasten behind him, almost unable to keep up in your stupid shoes. You see a man hand him something before walking away. You scrunch your brows as you look between them both.

Oh, he’s been paid.

He reaches the top of the stairs to his office and holds the door open for you to pass through. You duck by him, hiding in the room like you shouldn’t be there. You shouldn’t. You feel so small and inconsequential when you’re near him.

It’s his height, you realise.

It’s effortless intimidation. He’s a giant and you have to crane your neck just to look up at him when he’s close to you. His giant frame and bulging muscles don’t put you at ease, either. If you make him mad enough, you wonder how far he’d go. Would he use his strength to his advantage? Maybe he’d just take pity on you.

“You’re still here.” he rasps, locking the door behind himself and closing the blinds to the room. He likes the privacy as he counts his money. It excites you, for some reason, to see so much in a big fat wad. He looks up at you briefly before focusing back on it. “You liked it.”

“No.”

“Yeah ya did,” he laughs. You watch him as he collects a heavy looking bag from another locker in the room. It’s different to the one Megumi used. It looks shinier, newer. Sturdier. “I can tell you liked it.”

“Well, I’m going now.” you start, turning to walk away before he stretches out an arm to stop you in your tracks. He walks you backwards until your ass collides into the edge of his desk. He doesn’t pick you up, though. He just sizes you up, slowly, purposefully. And what a pathetic size you are in comparison to him. “Megumi needs me…” you whisper, meekly.

His presence is truly all consuming as he lords above you. You’re trapped between his large frame and the tattered old desk that resides in this seedy office. He could afford something nicer. But what would be the point if the place gets raided?

“We wanted the same thing earlier,” he starts. His voice quiet but commanding, still. You look between his lips and his pressuring gaze. He smiles, at that, he can see the way your mind is running rampant with thoughts of him. The dirty criminal who wants to fuck you on his desk. “Bet ya want it even more now.”

“N-No.”

“Yes.” he argues, placing a bloody hand on your pristine coat and making a mess of it. His hand snakes around to your waist, eventually. You gasp when you feel him tug your body closer to his by your belt loops, grinning as the little noise you make hits his ears. “Stutterin’ over yours words and making pretty sounds for me, sweetheart. Did you get all excited from seeing the blood? Bet ya did… bet you’re wet from seein’ daddy get violent.”

You gulp, heartily, your breathing gets heavier the more he speaks. His words rush straight to your cunt and you can barely ground yourself. The only thing keeping you from floating is your fingers curling around the edge of the desk as he continues to tease you.

“You’re fucking frigid.” he continues. Your eyes begin to water as he undoes the button on your pants and goes to pull down the zipper. You grab his hands to stop him, though it’s in vain. “Why are you so frigid, huh? When was the last time you had a good, hard, fuck?” he asks you, each word dripping like venom in a bid to make you squirm.

“That’s none of your—”

“Stop being such a bitch.” he tells you, slight laughter leaving him as he speaks. “Let me guess… got too occupied with your career, right? Bet you had a long term boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you properly if his life depended on it. ‘n then you got saddled with the kid… bought a vibrator and a plastic cock ‘n thought that would make do… you’ve never been fucked before.”

“Stop it.” you tell him. You turn your head away but he quickly forces it back with one heavy, dominating hand. “I have to go.”

“Sure.” he agrees, not letting go or moving aside for you to leave.

Nothing is said, not another word. Several beats of silence pass by as you stare at each other. The hypnotic music continues to play outside, though it’s muffled slightly by the locked office door. It isn’t enough to mask how hard either of you are breathing. Panting. Unable to break your stare from each other as the silence, that cogent fucking silence gets louder and louder.

Not another word is spoken as his lips press roughly against your own. You kick off your shoes and he kicks them aside as you continue to kiss him. Your hands are all over his body, grabbing and squeezing his skin as you lose yourself to the feeling of his lips. He forces down your trousers so that they’re resting around your thighs before lifting you onto the desk. You moan, desperately, as he breaks the kiss to fully remove them from your legs.

He lets them fall and kicks them away in the opposite direction of your shoes. The kiss breaks once more as he laughs lightly as your hips begin to rock eagerly for him.

“Knew you were wet for me earlier, y’know.” he tells you, kissing you briefly before deciding to tease you further. “Felt how your cunt was droolin’ when I lifted you on here before.”

“You’re vile.” you tell him, not caring that much as you lock your lips with his again. His attitude, the way he talks, the way he is. It’s all so nauseatingly macho and you thought you were better than this. You thought you knew better and wanted better for yourself. But having it presented so perfectly for you… you were always going to succumb.

“You like it, you like me.” he continues, forcing your snow-white coat down your arms and off your body. The way his knuckles continue to gush blood, you expect the liquid to seep and stain the white material and paint it the same red as his eyes. “Mmmm, I’m right. Why else would you be so wet?”

The air is snatched from your lungs as he pushes your legs apart from each other one at a time. You don’t dare close them as you watch him pull his vest over his head and reveal his perfectly chiselled body in all of its glory. It’s pervasive. It’s gorgeous. You aren’t even sure it’s humanly possible to look this good.

A soft ‘unf’ sound leaves you and you feel him sink his bloody knuckles inside of your panties. Deft fingers swirl and tease around your firm clit, and your mouth seals shut.

“Tell the truth, princess.” he swipes two fingers over your clit at a heightened pace, desperate to coax another utterance of admittance from your soft lips. “You wanna get fingered by a dirty old man. Go on, let me be your bit of rough, sweetheart.”

“Fuck.” you breathe, unable to withstand his filthy mouth. You’re truly powerless to being spoken to like this. Maybe you’re tired of people speaking to you so politely day in day out.

He doesn’t respect you, though.

Right now you’re nothing but a wet, desperate hole, with a pretty face attached.

“Let daddy finger you, yeah?” he asks, and you can’t stop your eyes from filling with water. He thinks it’s adorable. How the mighty hath fallen for nothing more than a few little rubs on your neglected clit. It makes him sick, truthfully, how many precious little things like you go without being touched properly. You’re about to learn, now, just how quickly you can become addicted to a person and the way they touch you.

“I should- I r-really have to go!” you tell him, still so desperate to remain defiant to the bitter end. He knows you’re bound to crumble any second. You’re biting your lip to keep quiet, but it will do you little good. Not when you are instinctively widening your legs for him. Wider than you knew they could go.

He pushes a single finger into you, hissing when he feels just how tight you really are. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume you were a virgin. He presses the heel of his palm against your clit, constantly adding pressure to the needy nub as he continuously pumps and curls his finger in and out of your sopping hole.

“Sukuna! I can’t d-do this, I shouldn’t be here.” you tell him as you wrestle with your guilt.

“This is exactly where you should be,” he tells you. “You’ll feel better when you cum f’me. Maybe you’ll stop being such a stuck up bitch.” he laughs, again, because you don’t dispute it.

No, instead, you lean back and rest your hands on the desk. Your hips roll urgently against his hand, chasing the stimulation to your clit. He looks down between you, tugging at your panties with one hand until you take the hint. You stop rutting against him, closing your legs so he can pull them down without stopping his rough touches.

They come down enough, the white lace dangling on one ankle as he forces your legs apart again. His vision meets your cunt. The way you’re swallowing one finger with ease now calls him to add another.

And you hiss from the stretch, but your humping doesn’t relent. You’re taking his fingers all of the way to the bloody knuckle until your eyes cross from the pleasure. And he grunts, at that, an attempt to conceal the moan lodged in his throat.

He revels in the way your cunt clenches as he allows a glob of spit to drip to your clit. His jaw hangs low as he massages the heel of his palm into it harder. The way you wriggle from his touch is better than any drug he can imagine existing. It’s addictive, seeing a once so proud woman regress to a needy little pet from the touch of a common man.

“D-Don’t stop.” you whisper, unsure of where that even came from. It was entirely involuntary. Your brain begins to fog as he repeatedly batters your g-spot again and again until your vision turns white. “Fuck, fuck! ‘m cumming, Sukuna! Ah- aaah~!” you cry out.

And just as it was getting good. Just as you were about to topple over the edge, he withdraws his fingers.

“You’re a real slut when you get going, aren’t you?” he smiles, landing a wet slap on your twitching pussy. You yelp, but don’t speak. “Barking orders at me like you’re in charge. Remember who’s office you’re in, now. It ain’t yours, princess. You’re spread open on daddy’s desk. Know your place.”

“I’m s-sorry.” you whimper, trying to focus and ignore the aching pulse you feel between your thighs. You need to cum, now. You need him to make you. It’s not fair, you can’t comprehend how close you were before he stopped you from reaching your high. “I’ll be good, d-daddy, just don’t… please don’t stop.” you beg, the title feels foreign on your tongue. But you don’t hate it.

He tuts, slapping your cunt again and again, repeatedly striking until tears spill from your pathetic, wet eyes.

“Fuckin’ love it when you look at me like that. Needy little whore.” he chortles, moving away from you entirely as he goes to grab something. “I’m gonna do something no one else will ever be able to do for you, jus’ because you look so pretty.”

“Wha—?”

“Lose the sweater, now. Wanna see your pretty tits,” he commands, lifting up the bag he grabbed from his locker earlier. “Hurry up. You need to be naked for this, you’ll enjoy it more.”

You do as you’re told, hurrying to strip yourself of the restricting material that has been suffocating you all night. And you toss it God knows where, breathing a sigh of relief as you feel cooler despite the sweaty heat that is trapped in the office with you.

“Good, good girl.” he smirks, unzipping the bag. You brace yourself for whatever he’s about to pull out. Some kind of sex toy, you assume. Knowing his ego, it’s probably a mould of his cock, hoping he can double stuff you.

But he doesn’t pull anything out.

Instead, he tips the bag upside down. There’s no time to think about what horrible things he could be pouring onto you. Because it doesn’t happen. Instead, you’re showered in bank notes. You laugh, excitedly, as you feel a never-ending stream over hundred-dollar bills pour over your body and onto the desk.

Sukuna laughs, too, admiring the sight of you dressed in nothing but money.

His money.

And it’s everywhere.

You writhe around on the desk before looking at him. He pulls down his sweats, hungrily, just enough to free his length. And, fuck, he’s huge. You knew he would be just by looking at the rest of him. It’s a scary sight, but you don’t care. He was right, no one else will ever be able to do this for you.

“Fuck me.” you request, opening your legs for him again. “Want daddy to fuck me stupid.” you finish.

And he doesn’t need to be asked twice. His fingers are shoved between your lips for you to suck as he lines his threatening cockhead up with your throbbing cunt. You’re too distracted by the taste of his fingers to properly react to how he stretches your hole.

The taste of copper stains your tastebuds along with the flavour of your essence. He watches you, intently, as he bullies his cock all of the way to the hilt without remorse. Though he hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath while examining you, panting desperately when he’s fully sunken into your restricting walls.

“Took that like a champ,” he praises you, withdrawing his fingers from your lips and opting to squeeze the sides of your neck instead. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, swallowing me like this.” he smirks, thrusting his hips shallowly to help you adjust. But the composure is lost when he feels how tight you’re wrapped around him. Like you’re claiming what yours as if he belongs inside, buried deep in your cunt to depths no one has been before.

He's yours.

“Fuuuu—” you start, cutting yourself off as you pout and groan through every pummel of his hips against yours. “Daddy! D-aaddy!” you wince, unable to believe how perfectly each vein adorning his cock stimulates you so beautifully. His leaking tip serves as a painful reminder to how irresponsible you’re being to fuck a literal stranger raw.

But you don’t care.

You honestly don’t care as you think about the desperate desire you feel burning between your thighs for him to fill you up like you’re his. To be claimed in such a disgustingly primal way by this behemoth of a man while you just lie there and take it is the only thing higher on your list of priorities than actually getting to cum yourself.

“No one will fuck you like this again, hear me? No one.” he reminds you. And all you can do is nod dumbly as you can’t even find it in you to formulate one word on your tongue to say in response. “Not a doctor, not a lawyer. No one will fuck you in the money they earn like this. And you look so pretty, princess. Knew you’d like it, can act high ‘n mighty all you like, but you like the blood money, don’tcha?”

“Y-Yes.” you barely managed to squeak out.

“Yes what?” he repeats.

“Y-es, daddy,” you pant, forcing yourself to fix your eyes on him as you speak in a feeble attempt to ground yourself. “I l-like the money.”

“Little money slut.” he chuckles, the angle he fucks in you seeming to hit deeper and deeper the longer it goes on. “I should fuck you up against the window, let everyone see how fucked out you are. Hah? Show everyone you’re not such a stuck up princess after all.”

“N-No, please, don’t.” you beg, gasping as he pulls his cock out of you and drags you away from the desk. He pushes your face against the window and you instinctively close your eyes. Your back arches as he slots himself into you from behind, powerless to his body as he starts fucking into you again. And you’re so thankful for the blinds, despite the fact the ridges dig into your skin as he ploughs you. “Fuuuuck, ‘Kuna, fuck, s’big!” you tell him, feeling him deeper still as he hits you from behind.

“I should let them all see what a whore you are.” he laughs, fingers gripping deeply into your sides as he uses you for leverage to pull you down on his length whilst battering into you. “Pretty mouth is droolin’ for me, look like you’re gonna break.”

Your heart begins to race as he reaches for the cord to open the blinds. There’s no doubt in your mind that it’s something he’d do. You brace yourself, preparing to be put on show for all of the lecherous men below to see.

But instead, he picks you up and forces you to bend over the table again. Your feet don’t even touch the ground as rams his cock into you again and again and again.

“Megumi wouldn’t be able to live it down if everyone knew how much of a slut his sister is,” he tells you. “He’d get the shit kicked out of him every time someone described what your face looks like when you cum.”

Fuck, Megumi.

You’d forgotten all about him, waiting in the freezing cold car for you while his pseudo-boss fucks your brains out.

“Don’t,” you huff, “tell him, about this.”

“Of course not, I’ll be your dirty little secret.” he laughs. “You are a vessel for my cum and nothing more.”

You’ve never felt such self-hatred for yourself as those final, scathing words have you cumming violently around his cock. You tremor and shake as you finish, collapsing entirely onto the desk as he continues to plough into you.

“Fuck, fuck!” you cry, feeling even more embarrassment wash over you as you think you might have pissed yourself. But he gasps, amazed, admiring the stream of clear liquid gushing from your cunt drenching him and his money on the floor.

“Awe, baby just squirted. What that your first time?” he laughs, fucking into you harder so that he can follow you along in your bliss. He bends over, his mouth lining up with your ear so he can whisper more of his rendition of sweet nothings into your ear. “You’re shaking ‘cause of me. A-And now, you’re gonna have to drive your little brother home with every drop of my cum in your cunt.”

“Please, please fill me up. Need it s’bad. Wanna be full of you…” you babble, reality still not fully resonating with you as he carries on fucking into you at a brutal pace.

He grunts and moans as he cums deep inside of you. You’ve made some mistakes in your life but this has to be one of the better ones. Despite your healthcare knowledge telling you that you should know better, you’ve never felt so content as you feel him shoot rope after rope of searing hot cum into your womb.

He pulls out, wiping his dick off on your ass cheek before fingering you slowly.

“Keep my mark inside of you.” he utters, forcing you to squeeze your thighs together so you don’t waste a drop while he gathers your clothes for you.

He hands you your underwear first while he keeps looking, and you pull them up quickly. It feels so revolting and lewd as his cum leaks into the seat of your panties. You sigh as you feel the cold letter M on your chest before you can dress yourself.

“I don’t have a first aid kit here.” Sukuna speaks, not looking at you as he hands you the rest of your belongings.

“I’m fine.” you tell him, quickly pulling on your sweater and instantly feeling sick as the warm material meets with your hot, clammy skin.

“I’m not.” he tells you, watching as you pull up your trousers and fasten them in a hurry before slipping into your high heels again. “Bet you have one at home. You’re a doctor, you’ve gotta look after people.”

You eye him up, cautiously, before your expression changes to a smile. “You’re asking to come home with me?” you wonder, pulling on your coat and making sure you still have two phones in your pockets as well as your purse and Megumi’s wad of cash. “But Megumi will—”

“I’ll drive behind you. C’mon, princess, don’t want my cuts do get infected, do ya?” he asks.

You cannot believe you allowed his dirty fingers inside of you. As good as they felt, it was so stupid. You’re sure there’s probably blood stains on your inner thighs because of him.

Though the thought of him all over you makes your cheeks fill with warmth.

You just nod, opting not to speak as you head towards the office door. You walk ahead of him, finding confidence in your strides again. He puts his vest back on and makes sure he’s decent before leaving the office. He watches you leave ahead of him and stops to talk to his favourite subordinate.

“Clean the mess up there. And I’ve counted the money so don’t get cute.” he says, handing the key to the office over before following your path out.

He’s a little surprised how far ahead you’d gotten. Long gone from the building as you approach your car.

The guilt of leaving Megumi alone for so long got to you, he thinks.

“Hi.” you say, simply, sitting behind the wheel of your car and hoping not to have to talk much for the ride home. He’s a moody teenager who rarely has a word to say to you. And for once, you’re hoping it’ll stay that way. You adjust yourself and quickly put on your seatbelt so that you can drive off without another word.

“What took you so long?” Megumi asks, huffing as he looks at you. His eyebrows knit as he sees his bossapproach with a confident swagger. He wonders if he forgot something or he didn’t pay him the right amount.

Sukuna leans into his open window with a shit eating grin on his face. He wants to question it, to question you. But his eyes meet your not so pristine white coat as he turns to look at you again. “Is that blood?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as he waits for an answer.

You look down at your jacket, holding your eyes closed with a sigh as you realise what a nightmare it’s going to be to remove the stains. Megumi leans in closer to you, moving your hair out of the way as he examines you.

“Um…” you mutter, too frozen to even continue starting up the car.

“It’s on your face and neck too. What did you—?” he stops, turning around to look at Sukuna and see if he can fill in the blanks in his mind with any form of answer. But they’re filled, instantly, as his eyes fall to see Sukuna’s bloody knuckles. “For fuck sake.” he speaks, quietly, covering his face with both hands as the revelation dawns on him.

“I’ll be right behind you, lead the way.” Sukuna winks as he walks away from your car and heads towards his own.

You don’t say anything, copying your brother’s action as you both sit in silence and absorb the never-ending supply of cringe filling the atmosphere. Until eventually you decide, this won’t do. Sukuna honks the horn of his Mercedes to signify that he’s ready.

So you start to drive, fleeing the scene while your partner in crime follows behind.

“Fucking good role model you are.” Megumi speaks sarcastically. “I can’t show my face there again. Why do you ruin everything?”

“Nothing happened!” you lie, earning a scoff from him.

“Let me get this straight. You came here to tell me to stop fighting, and then you fucked the man who pays me to do it. So, am I allowed to fight or not?”

“Obviously not, Megumi.”

“You’re a fucking hypocrite.” he scathes, turning his head to face away from you while he sulks. “You can’t tell me what to do after this. Some fucking moral compass you got there.”

“Oh shut up.” you respond, trying to keep a cool head as you continue. “Nothing. Happened. I watched him fight and I hated it, we talked it out and here we are. Stop being so pissy.”

“Why’s he following us home, then?” he wonders, turning to face you and see if he can detect an honest answer or a lie from you.

“He doesn’t have a first aid kit.” you tell him, which is true though it isn’t really an answer. And you feel his green eyes burn into the side of your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “I’m a doctor, he needs his wounds tending to.”

“… Oh my God.” he starts. “Oh my God you actually fucking like him. You’re so embarrassing.” he huffs, pulling a cigarette out of his jeans. He closes the window to light it and opens it again just as quickly. You’ve never liked that he smokes, but you know nothing you say or do will stop him.

Just like the fighting.

And then, you find yourself laughing. Unable to stop yourself as you think about what a stereotypical angsty teen your little brother is. And, God, you’ve made yourself into his biggest enemy just because you care about him. But now… Christ, you’ve gone above and beyond.

“I lied. We fucked. And it was great.” you laugh harder when you see Megumi’s horrified expression the longer the conversation goes on.

“I can’t stand you.” he sighs. “He’s never gonna let me forget this. What is wrong with you?”

“Serves you right, you little shit. Lie to me again and see what happens.” you warn him, your laughter lets up a little as you try and focus on being serious.

You’re never going to be his mother, and you’d never want to be. But what you can be is his big sister. You can be an annoying pain and embarrass him whenever he acts up. But you’ll always be here to take care of him and keep him on the right track when needs be.

“I love you, shit head.” you smile, and he sighs.

“… love you too… bitch.”

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shares-a-vest · 2 months

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@steddielovemonth Day 25: Love is… Asking, “Do you want a blanket?” (Prompt by @thefreakandthehair)

wc: 952 | Rated: T | cw: Hospital setting, mild descriptions of injuries and general hospital stuff, physical pain, one mention of blood

Tags: Post-s4, Fix-It, Eddie Munson Lives, Hospital

'Hospital Blankets'

“Steve? Hey, Steve?”

Steve is pulled out of a restless slumber by Eddie’s stage whispering. A twinge in his back fully rouses him as he remembers exactly where he is – in Hawkins General, bent up like a pretzel on what is quite possibly the world’s hardest chair, wearing nothing but a hospital gown and his underwear. He blinks harshly, his vision blurry as he looks in the direction of the chattering, dark-headed form lying in the bed in front of him.

“Huh?” he grunts, his voice thick with sleep as he becomes very much aware of the overall pain radiating over his whole body.

His throat burns too, even from a single word. He instinctively reaches a hand up to the reddened scar there – already a formed habit – only to scratch himself with his patient wristband.

“Do you want a blanket?” Eddie continues, his weakened voice indicating he is barely conscious, let alone aware of Steve’s discomfort.

Steve arches his back this time but it causes his chewed-up sides to ache, the bandages stiffening and contorting. Their tacky borders pinching at the already tight skin and scar tissue.

He gives up and slumps back in the chair, clutching the armrests for dear life as a twang shoots directly up his spine to his head. He runs a hand through his hair, impossible to keep from flopping in his face considering all he can do is give himself a goddamn sponge bath these days.

He should have just listened to Robin (and more than a few disgruntled nurses) when they begged him to stay in his own room.

But his room feels empty. Big and dark, just like his family home but a little more white and clinical smelling. It gives him nightmares. If he manages to settle enough to sleep that is…

It’s kinda hard when your friends are scattered throughout the bowels of the local hospital, all in varying states of distress meanwhile, outside the world has half caved in.

“Steeeve,” Eddie whines this time as he repeats, “Do you want a blanket?”

He half dry-sobs his query and Steve has no choice but to shimmy upright – thankfully, the slippery cover of his stupid seat helps him up this time.

Blanket… he finally considers and finds himself stifling a shiver.

He didn’t think to bring a blanket with him as he was much too focused on getting out of bed and down the hall to Eddie’s room. A room that is much colder than his own, which the occupant clearly knows.

Eddie’s fist is balled up in his blankets, offering them up as he raises his shaky arm.

“No,” Steve says softly, shaking his head and waving him away.

Eddie needs it more.

With a herculean effort, Steve moves the chair a few inches closer to the bed, hoping it isn’t scraping the floor or tangling up any of the wires and tubes hooked up to beeping machines – god knows where they each begin and end. His sides all but seize up as he sits back down and forces himself to correct his posture.

“But you’re cold,” Eddie frowns, his voice impossibly small.

“I’m fine,” Steve protests.

Eddie’s weak hand punches at his banket in a haphazard swish motion.

“Get into bed with me…” he mumbles, closing his eyes, “Rest with me, sweetheart.”

His head lolls to the side and Steve huffs out a laugh. Eddie is certainly on one hell of a cocktail of meds, mixed with the overall exhaustion that must come from almost dying. Steve can barely keep his own eyes open and he wasn’t anywhere near as close to it.

His heart thuds in his chest as thoughts of Eddie’s almost lifeless body rush back to his sleepy brain.

Dustin’s sobs… Robin scrambling to tear up clothes and sheets from the Upside Down version of the Munson’s trailer to make bandages… Nancy forcing everyone to focus as she devised a game plan, stopping every few moments to shoot down undead bats…

Steve screws his eyes shut and stands, bracing his arms on the sides of the chair before swiftly moving them to the bed for purchase.

At least Eddie’s right side is a little less banged up – but only just enough, Steve thinks as he hikes back the three warm layers of blankets enough to sit himself down on the bed. He swings his legs up next, clenching his jaw as every muscle in his body aches and pains from what transpired however many days ago.

The bed is a tight fit, but Steve doesn’t mind. The mattress is perhaps a fraction more comfortable than the chair, but he soon warms as he settles down and rights the blankets, smoothing them out for good measure and double-checking he hasn’t disturbed Eddie too much.

His body warms almost instantly as he rests his head beside Eddie’s on his pillow, positioned close enough that he can feel frizzed dark curls tickling his cheek. Eddie’s wispier than he expected and smells of the generic hospital soap – but at least the dried and caked-up blood is gone.

“That’s good…” Eddie coos, turning his head to face Steve, those tickling tendrils now replaced with a soft woosh of his breathing.

He can see the scar on Eddie’s cheek now. The bandage patch has been removed, exposing raw stitches today. Steve sighs, relieved by the smallest of steps forward.

Eddie can’t do much more than reach his hand out. And Steve takes it, interlacing their fingers despite the heart monitor clipped onto Eddie’s right index finger.

“Blanket’s... warm…” he mutters, nodding as he feels slumber tugging at him once again.

Eddie hums in agreeance and lightly squeezes his hand.

#i'm baaaaack (to posting - i've been sprinting my heart out)#big thanks to sandy for checking in and sending the positive vibes that got me back to writing 💖💖💖#steddielovemonth #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #healing steddie #(now lets see if i can remember my new tagging system)#tw hospital #tw medical #tw blood

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nerdykorgi · 2 months

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GRIMWALKER BIOLOGY & ANATOMY STUDIES [pt 1 / ?? ]

(aka, my ideas and thoughts on how these bad but sad boys work!)

with pictures :D !

ok for starters! I tried my best to make real life connections with actual biological stuff and yeah but there are some things ima have to bullshit lol

i hope yall like rambling

[ ^ Basic ideas ]

Lets talk about anatomy!

From what i can tell from the grim walker ingredient book they have some pretty ... interesting ingredients...

GALDORSTONE:

Heart and Power apparently. What i can make of this is that the Galderstone not only powers and animates the non-organic materials but acts as a circulatory system, flowing blood and nutrients to keep the body stable by creating magical pulses of pressure that makes the blood flow. Blood is kind of ideal for homeostasis and living and om pretty sure we've seen hunter bleed at least once... Perhaps the Galderston can create an artificial vascular system to carry oxygen, magic, and nutrients throughout the growing body instead of just making veins from scratch. I want to say the Galderstone can generate energy for the grimwalker but that would mean they wouldn't need to eat, and I don't think that's true. I think its main purpose is just activate the magic materials and is like the generator to a car, keeping it running. If the Galderstone were to break or fail, the grimwalker probably come unglued and fall apart to its components (which would be pretty horrifying)

ORTET BONE:

Very key component! The ortet bone kind of helps form the blueprint for the species of the grimwalker, as well as supplying blood, a skeletal system, and components of DNA. The most basic definition of the word ORTET is as follows: the original plant from which the members of a clone have descended. Fun fact: since were using cloning terms, Hunter is to Caleb as Ramet is to Ortet (Ramet is an individual clone) I did research for cloning and as it turns out you kinda need a complete genome for cloning but for bullshitting reasons (which will be explained) we can clone with incomplete DNA and make synthetic dna from scratch! I hypothesis that the reason grims can look different from the ortet instead of just straight carbon copies is due to the bone that is used and how much of i there is. Like example a grimwalker made using just a toe phalange is going to look A LOT less like the ortet compared to a grimwalker made from something like the cranium and bigger bones and such. Basically smaller bones dont carry as much dna info and leads for room to fill in the blanks. Sadly this means alot of Grimwalkers had A LOT of health problems (this can range anywhere from immune system problems to liver failure which is quiet typical in clones, that and it is often that clones appear different from the ortet due to enviromental factors and influences)

[ As the image above shows, subject #103 has a very close resemblance to the ortet due to the bones that are used ] There are pros and cons to using bones! Pros being that they can hold DNA for much longer than tissue, but the thing is bones can degrade really easy if not preserved, and i don't think belos had a bottle of hydrogen peroxide laying around that he could dunk Caleb in, so let's just assume he made sure his brother's corpse was well cleaned and kept. Biggest con is the human body only has so many bones (about 206) I believe that the reason Grimwalker can generate organs is by using the ortet and making the stem cells created from bone marrow. Stem cells are very important because they can turn into different types of cells like blood and tissue cells as well as repair tissue. I believe the process of growing grimwalkers is kind of like "Self-renewal" the process in which stem cells divide and make more of the body

STONESLEEPER LUNGS:

Im just gonna assume stone sleeper had very small lungs because aint no way those t rex lungs fit in a teenage boy. I originally thought The reason that Grimwalkers can stay underground for so long is because the lungs, similar to how a stonesleeper hibernates for centuries (kind of like how wood frogs can basically cryo-hibernate) by petrifying but a grimwalker IS growing and therefore needs resources to grow, like how a baby does in the womb. So it has to be actively getting said resources so it cant be petrified. I now think the reason that grimwalkers have these lungs is because theyre easily compatible to the galderstone, which needs oxygen for the blood and that they can be easily harvested and stored in stone form. But that does give room for cool adaptations like self-petrification! (which i will get into next time :D )

PALISTROM WOOD:

Ok its says that the wood is used for keratin, which is a fiberous protein which can make all kinds of things like scales, hair, nails, feathers, horns, claws, hooves, and skin! And since its also a plant means it can grow 4 times as fast as normal keratin can! This explains why hunters hair grew so ridiculously fast in season 3, was because his hair can produce its own carbohydrates and nutrients on its own... This means his skin and surface wounds can heal quite fast! (down side is it might give him something similar to PSS (Peeling Skin Syndrome ) ...) I think Palisman is very important becasue of several reason! 1 Like palisman, it can "animate" if you will, more or less help pull off the illusion that he is alive. 2 Like mentioned before, Grimwalkers need nutrients to grow and I believe the palistrom wood aids in that! Using a process called cellular diffusion, the grimwalker can take in nutrients from the ground around them (which i theorize to be highly fertilized) through THEIR SKIN! and into the veins and flesh of the grims 3 I believe that in the process of forming, the galderstone "activates" the palistrom wood, forming into skin or hair but this process of rapid growth leaves the skin all undone and fragile because a proper cutaneous barrier was not formed yet (which is useful for being malleable. This is why Hunter's ears are so 1 .god blessed big because they are fake and molded to look like that. Its also why The grimwalker Belos possessed fell apart so easily, like he said "It wasnt ready")

SELKIEDOMUS SCALES:

This one kind of confused me because... well why do we need the seal flesh when the ortet can just regenerate it?? I think its kind of like the stuffing if you will, it also speeds up the process of producing flesh by a lot! Especially if you want to make grown grimwalkers! Im thinking that Grimwalkers don't have a set "age" theyre just as big as however many materials they are given to work with. Even though the book says they can start as babies, if you look closely there is a check mark towards the more adolescent figure, so im thinking that they are not ready to be unearthed until they reach a certain growth ima guess around the age of over 10-ish?? We don't know how young Hunter was pulled out of the floor but it seems like he was fairly young, or atleast younger. This means while Hunter appears to be 16, he might have only been living for around 5 years or so.

Now typically normal seals have a lot of blubber which is a thick layer of fat, also called adipose tissue, directly under the skin of a marine mammals. Its used for insulation. The thing is tho, it says Selkiedomus Scales, not flesh... Dont worry there are mammals that have scales like Pangolins but i dont know if these scales are like thick plated or small and stretchy. Magic bullshitting time, Im goin to assume Selkiedomus scales refers to a layer of scale-like flesh that protect the creature from boiling but is also highly malleable and easy to work with. Maybe the reason they can withstand such heat is due to unsaturated bonds of butadiene molecules mixed into the blubber that are highly heat resistant Selkie domus flesh is molded and into the relative shape of desired body and using the DNA of the ortet the flesh is reshaped and reused into the desired muscles shapes. The vascular system created by the galderstone spreads throughout the flesh and binds with it. healing together and becoming flesh, kind of like a speed up version of skin graft maturation! This is useful for growing them quickly because they don't have to grow an entire adult body from scratch so this speed up the process by eeeerrm 20 years or so lol

Thats only the basics for now, sooner or later i shall get into the more fun stuff, like adaptaions of Grim walker, the growing process, ad more!

Hope you guys enjoyed my ideas, if i got anything incorrect let me know, my research isnt exremly searched through.

last question ill leave you all with, it kind of stumped me while i was working...

i have a theory but i wanna know your thoughts...

(i worked hard on all this btw, i really hope people read it lol /lh.)

#the owl house #toh #toh hunter #hunter toh #caleb wittebane #philip wittebane #emperor belos #grimwalker #golden guard #how tf do you draw a nipple #ima gonna sleep now...

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pearlsinmyhair · 2 months

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⚔︎⊹ ࣪ MODERN!MIZU HEADCANONS

i had to write something for her- i was itching. headcanons are always kinda scary for me so i hope you like them

anyways: very light on x reader, with general mentions of mizu having a partner. that being said, no nsfw (for this one).

real quick! : i use she/her pronouns for mizu in this. if this is triggering for you, which i completely understand if it is, then please don’t proceed.

≈ she most definitely owns a cat. mizu is one of those pet owners whose animals reflect their personalities. her cat will tolerate some and scamper away from the rest of those who dare try to pet them. the feline avoids taigen, is chill with akemi, and pretends to hate ringo (she purrs as soon as he walks into her apartment, but she does so with a grumpy face).

≈ surprisingly, the fur baby let you scratch her under her chin when you first came over- which, believe me, mizu noted.

≈ has a butterfly knife.

≈ can do extremely elaborate tricks with it -are we surprised-

≈ one time taigen tried to copy her and it ended with him slicing a finger open and almost flinging the knife into his face.

≈ there’s a blood stain on the rug in mizu’s living room, and whenever taigen brags she’ll just silently point at it to humble his ass.

≈ also has a fish. specifically a beta fish. they’re solitary and will fight others if kept together, and i think mizu would find some kind of kinship with a little angry beta fish.

≈ no, her cat doesn’t try to eat her fish. everyone is convinced that the three beings in the mizu household can read each others minds.

≈ this idea isn’t squashed when you eventually move in, because three simply becomes four, and you all move around each other and communicate perfectly without so much as a look. it’s freaky, and taigen, akemi, and ringo will watch them in silence trying to figure it out.

≈ she wears those giant bermuda-cut jean shorts. akemi hates them, which just makes mizu love them more. she loves seeing her face scrunch up with disgust when they meet up.

≈ gym girlie gym girlie gym girly-

≈ girl’s got a snatched waist, it’s not faaaaiiiirrrr-

≈ definitely has tattoos, and everyone of them is meaningful. there’s a teeny tiny pheonix at the nape of her neck, a dagger on her ankle for swordfather, and a Hokusai wave trailing down her bicep that she gets extended every now and again.

≈ speaking of the wave tattoo, mizu has a deep seated love for the ocean. as in, she’ll never tell anyone outright, but if the group is anywhere near the beach for the day, mizu disappears. they find her via taigen (he has her location under the guise of knowing where to find her body if she gets killed), and she’s waist deep in the waves, just kinda meditating.

≈ she doesn’t get visually cold. like, cmon, sis was wandering around in the snow and sporting a little red nose. she doesn’t complain, doesn’t shiver, and her teeth don’t chatter.

≈ that is, unless you’re close to her.

≈ she’ll allow herself to be babied after putting up a fight (ahem ringo) but a bitch will melt if you fret over her.

≈ factory reset when you try to warm her hands up by cupping them in yours and breathing on them.

≈ taigen will gag if you both show pda, and mizu will threaten death.

≈ this woman has enviable fashion sense. off duty model vibes, even though she’s not trying.

≈ favors baggy clothes, and likes a more androgynous appearance.

≈ that being said, the eyeliner on her slays. just as sharp as her sword, and she’s got ariana grande skills when it comes to applying it.

≈ rbf all the way. most people think she hates them (she does, but she’ll never confirm it) because her default expression is stern.

≈ i think she’d wear rings. all kinds- she likes to twist them when she’s thinking.

≈ if she were to go to college, i feel like she’d pursue some kind of history degree or art history and specify in either japanese military history or traditional art (im projecting-)

i’m actually fighting fear to post these-

#— “should i have been counting?”#blue eye samurai #bes #blue eye samurai mizu #— mizu my beloved #mizu x reader

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yyokkki · 3 months

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If They Had Dating Profiles

Format modelled after Bumble So many profiles either disgust me or make me laugh so here it is All characters have been aged up to 18 or above for this btw

Dormleaders

Riddle Rosehearts

Pictures: His top pic is his passport photo, he’s wearing the full suit, tie and blazer and his hair is perfect. The rest of the pics follow this pattern.

About Me:

My name is Riddle Rosehearts and I intend to date with the intent of marriage so if you are seeking “something casual”, please swipe left.

I will not tolerate smoking, drinking in non-social settings, an untidy presentation, inappropriate language, or any of that “fwb” nonsense. Thank you.

My Basics: Has every category filled out except for height

Leona Kingscholar

Pictures: Only one photo and the angle is tilted upwards from his chin while he’s lying down, it’s also kinda blurry

About Me:

fwb or chess

My Basics: Mf only has his height filled out

Azul Ashengrotto

Pictures: His top pic is of him cutting the opening ribbon to his restaurant and the rest are perfectly tailored, photoshoot level pics of him doing things like signing papers, wiping his glasses or casually leaning against an expensive car

About Me:

Proud owner of the restaurant, Mostro Lounge, the product of my blood, sweat and tears.

If we have our first date in my restaurant you get a 50% discount on all items 😊.

My Basics: Pretty much everything is filled out

Kalim Al-Asim

Pictures: A really cute pic of him doing the thing where he’s standing in front of the Eiffel tower and pinching his fingers to make it look like it’s in his fingers, the rest are of him with dorky filters on or more travel pics at famous landmarks

About Me:

HIII, im a hugee extrovert and i love love LOVE going to partyz so if you wanna come too just hmu!! lookin to go on dates but if you wann just hangout i don’t mind either ^^

I LOVE spoiling all my friends and family with gifts so get readyy HEHEHEHE

My Basics: Yup filled out

Vil Schoenheit

Pictures: Literally the best pictures you can find on the site, you probably won’t believe it’s him until you meet him irl, they’re that gorgeous. If Azul’s was photoshoot level, Vil’s is AI generated level

About Me:

Yes, I am the real Vil Schoenheit, if you don’t believe me, the photos I’ve used can’t be found anywhere else on the internet.

My MagiGram is vilschoenheit_real

My Basics: Only a select few are filled out for privacy reasons

Idia Shroud

Pictures: Only one and it’s an anime character

About Me:

hmu on valo lsersss lmaoooo @ is nekurasamurai

pls swpe right if ur a gamer uwu

My Basics: Nothing is filled out but gender and height

Malleus Draconia

Pictures: Black screen with red edges you can tell he accidentally took a pic facing away from him and his finger was in front of the camera

About Me:

is this the text to speech function oh hello child of man i am cooking looking for a suitable spouse that will rule over the valley of horns thorns with me thank you

My Basics: N oth ing

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst headcanons #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #twst riddle #twst leona #twst azul #twst kalim #twst vil #twst idia #twst malleus

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fleetways · 6 months

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OKAY! It’s time for the Chimera Baby Lore Post!!

🌼 How did you come up with the OC's name?

In both a meta and non-meta sense, Chimera Baby’s name is probably the most notable part about them. The name Chimera Baby is a reference to m-flo and LiSA’s Tripod Baby, ft in the game Shadow the Hedgehog. For over 6 months that was her official non-official name, as I couldn’t decide on a name for her. I received over 15 name suggestions, but in July I ran a poll at which point she was dubbed Mira!

As it turns out, Mira happens to be the name of a binary star system. Two stars in a dance doomed to end in supernova—rather fitting for a chimera character, wouldn’t you say? I like to imagine Shadow was the one to name Mira something meaningful and space-themed like that, meanwhile Sonic named the other child something totally arbitrary (“His name is Mochi because he's white lol”)

On that note, I’ve also decided Sonic calls Mira “Chili” exclusively, because its silly and he would. So Mira, Chimera Baby, CB, and Chili are all names she goes by!

🌸 How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

I like to depict them anywhere from baby to teenager, but in their most recent incarnation I’d say they’re somewhere between 15-17

💖 Do they have any love interest(s)?

At the moment no. She’s generally too aloof and off putting for anyone to approach her with romantic intent, but maybe in the future….

🍓What is their favorite food?

Strawberries and Triangle Chao Fruit

⭐️ What do they do for a living?

💥 Do they have any hobbies?

Besides combat training, CB enjoys the occasional outdoor activity. Sometimes her friends goad her into a game of soccer (which she is an absolute beast at), but she generally prefers solo sports such as archery, rock climbing, or hiking. Sometimes her brother convinces her to fish with him, but she finds it pretty boring (but would never turn him down)

💃 What do they do best?

Mira excels at hand-to-hand combat. As the reigning champion of Chao Karate, Mira takes their martial arts training very seriously. They also possess exemplary control over chaos energy, and incorporates this into their technique. While they may not be as fast as their fathers, they make up for it with not just raw power, but an extremely disciplined technique.

Her skills also happen to make her an amazing breakdancer, but she’ll break your face if you ask her to demonstrate.

☀️ What is one of your OC's best memories?

A tie between making her baby brother laugh for the first time and the time she drew first blood for the first time in a fight with Shadow

🌧️ What is one of your OC's worst memories?

The aftermath of almost drowning as a child after she saved a chao friend.

✍️ Is their current design the first one?

For the most part—I did redesign their shoes because originally they were rocking some McDonalds drip.

💡What originally inspired the OC?

This post i made ^^

Basically its a mix of me poking fun at the phenomena of Sonadow fan-children all looking kinda similar, and this plush reminding me of actual chimerism in animals and wanting to create a character with that characteristic! Over the months my ironic love for her has grown into genuine fondness—so while she remains primarily as a parody, she’s also a character I’m having fun exploring concepts with <3 Much like both Shadow and Sonic the Hedgehog, you can take her as seriously or not seriously as you wish!

👾 What genre do they belong in?

PS1-era graphics Jet Set Radio game

🏳️‍🌈 What is your OC's gender identity and sexuality?

Non-binary and trans (you decide what direction). And she’s bisexual bc i love bisexuals <3

🍃How many sibling does your OC have?

One little brother Mochi—he is a perfect angel who is also her closest friend. She adores him, but you wouldn’t know from seeing them interact.

⚠️ What is the OC's relationship w/their parents like?

So I mentioned that Mira was reared in a chao garden, where her dads basically only visited once every couple days if not longer (Sonic and Shadow are not very attentive parents, go figure). However, this was honestly a perfectly fine arrangement as I headcanon mobian children don’t need the same level of parental contact as human children (Hell, Cream is kind of an outlier FOR having a present parental figure in her life).

That being said, I imagine Shadow spent more time with her when she was really young before stepping away, which made her really latch onto Shadow more than Sonic during that time. Especially seeing as Sonic is the most laissez-faire parent ever but simultaneously was the type to abandon her on a floating platform in midair with a trail of badniks so she can learn how to homing attack.

Much like her father before her, her latent Black Arms genes have caused her to develop a burning desire to destroy Shadow—a fact that Shadow seems strangely indifferent about. While this fact has pretty much wrecked their previous relationship, there are circumstances where Mira will put aside her goal and work with Shadow against a common enemy or towards a common objective (of course, this doesn’t stop her from trying to stab him in the back during these operations).

Her relationship with Sonic has remained mostly the same, with Sonic treating her much more like a friend or little sister than a daughter. They have lunch together at least once a month, and usually she’ll go to him for advice on any social interaction matter—conversations that have become much more frequent now that she’s begun to make friends.

💗 What do you like most about the OC?

I think I popped off with her design—chimerism is such an interesting concept and I loved balancing her two sets of genes without making it seem too busy. I also love her dynamic of trying to kill Shadow and how you would think her growing up in chao garden basically alone would have contributed to that, but that's not the case at all she’s just like that <3

‼️ Who is your OC's arch-nemesis or rival?

Shadow the Hedgehog is her self-proclaimed nemesis, but she makes a fair share of enemies and rivals wherever she goes due to her punch-first-ask-questions-later attitude. One notable rival is another OC of mine named Sauvik the Badger—another cold and brooding anti-hero much like her. Sauvik and Mochi are something of a team, but being a protective big sister she wants him to stay away from her brother. This generally leads to a fight that Mochi is inevitably forced to break up.

⏰ How long have you had the OC?

She was created in January of 2023!

—

That’s all! Feel free to ask any other questions and remember to vote for her here!

@sonic-oc-showdown

#chimera baby #sonic oc #soandow fankid #mochi #text

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

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Could you do A, C, I, G, K, L, and P for EJ in the fluff alphabet? It would make me reallyyyy happy :3

Fluff Alphabet w/ EJ!!

ive been waiting for someone to do EJ you dont understand!!! i saw this earlier but the power went out when i finally had time to sit down and get to writing </3 my apologies as for other stuff/for everyone else, requests are still open, and the fluff alphabet will be open indefinitely!!

ATTRACTION- Honestly I think you gotta be a real catch to end up as Jacks partner, considering his entire hermit thing... I personally think that he separates himself from society after he becomes Eyeless Jack via a funky cult sacrifice thing... which he was kinda pretty much unwillingly roped into. I think he would want someone who's capable of taking care of themselves, and perhaps someone whos smart. maybe even lower maintenance. its not that he doesnt want to treat you as you deserve, its that sometimes he cant given he sometimes legitimately goes feral (though this is only really due to him pushing off his needs, blood frenzy type deal for when he pushes off eating people, can get real ugly). understanding as well, he needs someone whos willing to be understanding of his position and current predicament and know that eventually jack is going to fully not. be there anymore one day (possible angst idea? ooo?) but also even before the whole, demon thing, jack wasnt the most cheery or social and things definitely havent changed

CUDDLING- hes really cold so thats good for hot nights! not good for cold ones though </3 but hey maybe you guys are somewhere where its perpetually hot. as for the actual act of cuddling, he prefers to be the big spoon. likes sleeping closer to the door, kinda makes a barrier of himself for you in case someone were to come in. which is unlikely since if this were his place, its literally a cabin in the woods in bumfuck nowhere, but the point still stands. only engages if youre asleep or ask for it. if youre the one holding him, he kinda. freezes still and doesnt dare move. poor dude, hes so scared hes going to bite you or something

GIFT GIVING- since he lives in the woods and doesnt have a job he cant exactly go out and give you gifts. he also isnt fond of taking belongings from victims, since he already takes pieces of their bodies. coughs. anyways, i think hes more of an act of service person (will talk more about that in L)

INJURY- youre in luck, he had plans to be a doctor, thats what he was going to college for! plus i think he had a little fixation on medical stuff in general growing up. little hc that his other choice was to be a microbilogist. idk, i can see it. but i dont think it needs to be said that neither became reality. but he does know how to treat some injuries and illnesses! so youre both in luck! but how does he react, emotionally? honestly, as long as youre not bleeding while hes in his frenzied state hes more than willing to help you... although its more so because he doesnt want the scent to trigger anything in him... he cares about you, i promise! its just that ultimately its better he doesnt go feral on you- now if he was the one injured hes already patching himself up... oh but imagine convincing him to let you clean up a wound he got while trying to do his thing.... ouuuugh... let the man be vulnerable, let him be taken care of... ueueue... anyways- yeah

KISSES- he doesnt wear his mask when hes at your place or his cabin- in fact he only really wears it when hes 'hunting' or 'prowling', so!! loves kissing your cheek. will absolutely refuse to kiss you if hes just ate, though, let him wash his face and brush his teeth first. and change his clothes. he likes being kissed anywhere; forehead, mouth, cheeks, hands, ect ect ect. now in terms of frequency i dont think he likes it too often, but that may be some internalized thing about no longer being worthy of love or something but hey who am i to say (loudly winks)

LOVE LANGUAGE- as previously mentioned, acts of service is how jack shows his appreciation and love for you. need something done? hes on it! need to do some chores but dont feel like it? you dont even need to ask! stuff like that, hell, even if something doesnt need to be done he will probably tinker at it and try to make it better if its an appliance or something that can be upgraded to be more efficient and effective. when it comes to receiving he likes words of affirmation, this man has been through hell and hes still going through it, so reassuring him that you still love him even though hes changing makes things a little less scary

PET NAMES- he likes calling you babe and baby. he likes being called hon! doesnt really do petnames, he finds saying someones name intimate enough... which honestly i kinda agree with, i kinda hate how utilized it is in romantic media. just two characters loving each other, sharing a moment, and one softly utters the others name in a sweet tone. GUH!!!! anyway

#creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack imagine #eyeless jack headcanon

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 1 year

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valentine

pairing: steve harrington x reader

WC: 1.9K

warnings: cursing, some suggestive stuff, a little nightmare sequence that involves punching and blood mentions. should be it!

summary: you blinked and suddenly, you had a valentine. ❤️

A/N: a late v-day post, i guess. inspired by the lovely Laufey song. much love to @alecmores for proofreading 💗💗💗

it cut off some of the ending when read on mobile 😒 but it’s looking completely fine on computer. just an fyi

masterlist

I’ve rejected affection for years and years. Now I have it and damn it, it’s kind of weird.

Out of your twenty-one years of living on this planet, this is the first year you have a relationship and it’s simultaneously the greatest feeling in the world while also making you want to run away. But you can’t find it in yourself to run, not from him.

Steve. Steve Harrington is your boyfriend.

You feel like you need to pinch yourself every time he looks your way and throws a smile meant for you, or feel the furnace heat of his fingers grasping your hips before pulling you into a kiss, sweet or searing.

He tells me I’m pretty.

The two of you are just laying in his bed on a lazy saturday morning, with no hurry to be anywhere, facing each other as you practically share his pillow causing your noses to bump with a simple shift. The blanket covers both of you from the waist down, your top half open to the slight chill dancing through the room.

Steve's shirtless and you're wearing an oversized shirt you found at a garage sale, one that goes to rest at the top of your thighs, but right now it’s bunched up high, allowing Steve to toy with the elastic of your underwear and drag his knuckles over your exposed waist. Legs tangled together, your cold feet pushing into Steve’s calf causing a gasp of shock from the boy which pulled a heartfelt giggle from your lips.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” A hand instantly moves to tuck loose strands behind your ear.

You don’t say anything, you can’t. Not when he’s looking at you like that. Soft eyes that twinkle, an easy smile that displays his stunning smile lines, his freckles, and moles that mark his face and body that you smother with thousands of kisses when given the opportunity. How his bed head of hair is curled and twisted this way and that, the ends tucking and touching his ear lobe and neck or even his jaw.

You don’t know how to respond to the sudden compliment, you haven’t received much in your years. So as you memorize him, you instantly say the words back to him, in your own way, of course.

“You’re quite pretty yourself, Steve Harrington. Very nice on the eyes.” A finger trailed his nose and down to his jaw.

A deep rumble from his chest filled you with a warmth that pushed away the February chill. You weren’t sure if you should’ve called him that. Most guys don’t like the word "pretty" being used when complimenting them, most like strong or handsome, pretty to them seems weak when it isn’t towards a girl. But when you looked at Steve he was all those to you, but pretty will be the one to always come to mind when you look at him, especially in moments like these. Intimate and away from prying eyes.

With every passing moment, I surprise myself.

You’re usually scared of guys, whether it be in a general sense or a relationship kinda sense. You’ve been on dates, didn’t like the guy and stopped talking with him or you liked him and went on a few dates but those ended up fizzling out as well.

But Steve Harrington made you feel scared, but the good kind of scared. The roller coaster adrenaline scare, where you’re whooping and hollering at the top of your lungs. Clinging to the metal bars for dear life worried you’ll fly away, but they're holding you securely in their grasp.

Steve constantly made you smile and laugh, scream out of slight fear or extreme pleasure. He held you in firm hugs, his chin digging into your scalp as he slowly swayed your bodies. He made you feel safe and loved.

Loved. You’ve fallen in love with him after just a year. Now you were scared.

What if he’s the last one I kiss? What if he’s the only one I’ll ever miss? Maybe I should run, I’m only twenty-one.

You began to panic. There was no real reason to panic, but you're an overthinker, constantly making useless scenarios in your fast-paced mind, thinking the worst of peaceful times. It’s a terrible flaw, but one you can’t push away no matter how much you try.

‘What if he gets bored of me? What if he thinks I’m clingy? What would he do if I told him I love him?’

Evil thoughts that would creep up in the time of silence.

You stared at nothing while you sat behind the counter at Family Video, body unconsciously swiveling the rolling chair from side to side. Steve and Robin are out on the floor putting away new releases and returning stock, their friendly banter becoming white noise to your ears as more corruptive thoughts came to mind and cramp every single space in your brain.

Your fingers pick at your nail beds, you don’t even feel the pricks of pain or feel the little trickles of blood pooling to the top. Only when you feel someone else’s hands pulling yours apart into their hold do you snap from your trance.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Steve's melodic voice rings in your ears.

“Huh?” Not too sure what he means.

His eyes are focused on your hands, pulling each finger in his eye line and then bringing a kiss to each nail. It made you flush at the sudden display of affection.

“I was calling for you,” another kiss, “and you didn’t answer so I came here,” kiss, “and your eyes were just wide and you were picking at your nails. I thought you stopped that.”

‘Great now you disappointed him’ ‘Probably thinks you’re a liar’

You bit your bottom lip, “got lost in my thoughts. That’s all.” A shrug of your shoulders.

He still held your hands, fingers laced together and his thumb ran atop your knuckles. He was warm and comfortable, it pushed the negative thoughts away just a bit.

Then he crouched down, hands placed on your knees and head tilted to look up at you with your small bit of height. His head tilted and swayed, trying to find your eyes that you wanted to hide away from him, he could always find what was wrong in the end.

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, “I’m not gonna make you tell me what’s wrong, or I won’t act like a mind reader, cause I’m not-“ “Beg to differ on certain days.” You interrupted.

He breathed a laugh, “if you believe so. But I just want you to know you can talk to me if something is bothering you, especially if it’s about me. Cause I don’t want you to think the wrong thing.” He squeezed your knees.

You looked at Steve, held his eye contact, and said, “I really like you, Steve Harrington.” The closest thing to I love you right now.

He smiled wide, “I really like you too, sweetheart.”

I’ve lost all control of my heartbeat now.

He said the words. He said the words.

“I love you, (Y/n).”

It felt like all the air left your lungs and now you probably looked like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing. Trying to process everything that just happened while also trying to find the words for a proper response.

“(Y/n)? You okay?” He has a firm hold on your biceps.

Your own hands are also holding his biceps, eyes dancing across his face. You wanted to memorize this moment, the way he looked in the overhead lighting of the grocery store where you were buying snacks for a night in.

He just had to say the words that rocked your heart in the freaking grocery store!

“Sweetheart, say something, please. You’re scaring me a bit,” a chuckle but you knew he was concerned.

“Uh,” you blinked a few times, “really caught me off guard with that.”

The both of you chuckled, you from the absurdity of the moment and Steve from your comment. But it felt so perfect, a special moment to remember for the future.

When I hear I love you, now I’ve got someone to lose.

You tried fighting back, you desperately tried with all the strength you could muster into your bones. You yanked hard against the metal cuffs, the skin on your wrist starting to sting from the breakage. You tried kicking with your legs, but it was no use, you weren’t close enough to hit anything or anyone.

You could only stare and scream as you thrash. Watching helplessly as the soldier beats Steve down with his knuckles. How his skin breaks and bleeds, the loud cracks of his nose breaking causing blood to spill from his nostrils.

“Stop! Stop! Please! We’re telling the truth!” You tried to plead with them.

They just laughed and continued the harassment. Steve always being the hero, making sure they don’t lay a finger on you, causing him to be the center of their attention and attacks.

When the soldier got tired from throwing punches, he gripped Steve’s neck tight. You could slowly see the blood leaving his face, the air not making its way to his brain. His feet scrambled against the floor to find some purchase.

In what seemed to be his final moments, he looks at you.

“Steve!” You cried as you blotted upward from the bed.

Your chest heaved with heavy breaths and sweat formed at your temple while your back and chest were sticky with perspiration. A hand touched your chest to feel your heart as you pushed sticky strands from your face.

‘Just a nightmare’ ‘It was just a terrible nightmare’

“(Y/n)?” A scratchy voice was heard through the darkness of the bedroom.

“Steve, sorry.”

You felt him sit up, his hand rubbing circles to your back along your sleep shirt. He laid his head on your shoulder and placed his free appendage on your thigh.

“Was it a nightmare? Cause usually if it's dreams, there’s a different way we go about things.” He tried for a laugh and you gave him one. “There we go,” he sighed.

“Can you just hold me?” You whispered. An unspoken ‘I love you’

“Always, sweetheart.” ‘I love you too’

The first one to ever like me back. I’m seconds away from a heart attack.

“You know you are my first boyfriend, like ever.” You randomly blurt one day in Steve’s kitchen.

“No way, I find that hard to believe.” He called over his shoulder as he worked on breakfast.

“Oh!” You hop onto his counters, “and what makes you think that? Do enlighten me.”

He didn’t say anything quickly, so just as you were about to say something, he spoke up, “because you’re… you. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

He said the words so easily like they were the most obvious answer to your question. He was trying to give you a heart attack with how sugary sweet he is.

“Like I can’t believe I get to call you mine. Every day I wake up and remember I’m dating you and it makes my day one hundred percent better already. And knowing I get to call you or see you throughout the day, it keeps me from going insane during the boring or terrible moments.”

You were speechless. Steve caused every word and thought to leave your mouth and brain, all you could say was, “I love you.”

I blinked and suddenly, I had a valentine.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington reader insert #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #Spotify

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sayitdido · 9 months

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Hi could you make a story where yeonjun and the girl are academic rivals and then ended up in the same shower room (you could do what you want before this happens) and they do things lol

i couldn't find a way to wrtite this without lots clichés and gender neutral reader. and sorry if it feels rushed. and the part where smut starts has no chemistry but i tried my best. but i am really disappointed in myself in general. but i shouldn't, right? it is just a fanfic it can have clichés and low chemistry from time to time. it happens.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

warnings: slight mention of food, mentions of a handjob(yj receiving), nipple play(reader receiving), reader also receives some pleasure with yeonjun's hands but it is not detailed to keep it gender neutral so yeah, also the rivalry is kinda one sideded

looking up the results of your midterms with worry since it seems like you will not be on top of your major and that means no scholarships for you. and it is not because you are a bad student. there is a person to blame. it is because choi fucking yeonjun. as you feel your blood boiling, you just scream at the screen. choi fucking yeonjun, he doesn't even need that scholarship and just studies this major to "learn" which meant he already has a job ready in his father's company and he is just here to socialize so it is not like he needs to be valedictorian.

you hate him, you definitely hate him. you also hate your so called progressive school that only gives scholarships to selected few and only does gender neutral dorms and bathrooms to make themselves look progressive. doingjust one thing is not enough though. especially if you have struggling students who can't pay tuition.

you decide to go to cafeteria as you are starting to get hungry due to energy you lost with having a tantrum over your grades. filling your tray more than usual as you fell like you are starving.

as you are carrying your tray to closest empty table, you lose you ballence which causes you to drop your tray resulting with ruining yours and the person next to you's clothes. as you rise your head to see who it is, you see the most annoying face. "aren't you going to apologize?" he asks. "i am not going to apologize to a scholarship stealer."

you leave for showers without saying anything. you quickly get undressed. yeonjun has to ruin everything. if he didn't, your life would be actually peaceful. you think to yourself as if you aren't the one who dropped the tray.

you take your time to get clean. hoping the shower will calm you. but you suddenly flinch as you feel presence of someone else. to your surprise, it was yeonjun. you call out to him. "aren't you too fancy for communal showers?" he just roles his eyes and answers back. "for your information, i faileda class due to low attendance rate so the scholarship is yours and i am not a stealer. also i am not too fancy for anywhere. and aren't you tired of the rivalry you made it up in your mind?" you admit that he had a point. "maybe you need to relax." he suggests. "how?" your innocence amuses him.

he laughs before he says. "for such a smart girl, you sure have trouble getting the hints." you think you start to get what he means when he puts it this way. "i pleasure myself on regular basis." he laughs again. "yeah but it starts to get frustrating after awhile."

he might be right. "i can try to be assistance if you give me your concent." his boldness makes you cringe but you also find the hottest guy in campus attractive like any other person. you can continue to hate him after this. " okay. you have it. you have my consent. i say yes."

he walks towards tour cabin. his hands immediately finds your nipples and starts to play with them. as it only makes you ticklish rather than aroused, you just whine.

"be patient, it will help you feel good i promise." he says while his other hand comes dangerously close to your between your legs.

as he starts to also play with it his mouth kisses one of your nipples. he is rather slow and sensual unlike how you imagined him. yes you imagined him. soon you start to feel the pleasure. as he focuses on playing with your breasts, you slowly start to moan implying your pleasure.

his one hand piching and caressing your nipple while the other works wonders that you, yourself, could never achive.

"that's it. such a sweet voice to hear." he says when your moans get louder. you are glad that it is not the time where it usually is crowded.

"yeonjun, i am about to cum." you say and his hand fastens to help you reach it. as you shiver while orgasming he laughs in pleasure.

him about to leave, you call his name. "what about you?" you ask. "no worries, you don't have to do anything back. i just felt like helping out." but you insist which eventually makes him confess that he would love a handjob in return.

#txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun smut

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diacripticcomplex · 5 months

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Can there be more ayayui? I've only seen one of the fics that u wrote with ayayui and I would like to see more please and thank you :)

(Inspired by a scene in HDB)

Ayato's POV:

She's been avoiding me. I tried snatching her up earlier and she found a way out of that. I don't know what's gotten into her but there's no way in hell she gets to avoid me. I'll make her regret that. I wait for her after one of her stupid classes, I technically should be in that class too but what good will it be for me to learn human literature? Anyway, the students start exiting the classroom, I notice her titless self coming out, she always has this ditzy look on her face, it's hilarious. I quietly stalk behind her, making sure she doesn't even notice my shadow, which wasn't difficult at all. She's an airhead half the time. I cornered her at the staircase and revealed myself. I could see the sheer panic written all over her face. I welcomed that look, it definitely does it for me.

"Ayato...!!" She yells out, I couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes, it's the great Ayato, who you have been avoiding, why?" I questioned her, she wasn't looking me in the eye so I took my hand to grab her chin but she managed to escape, she really is an idiot, I can smell her 5 miles away. She ended up running into a storage room, I teleported in and made sure to lock and block the door. She's not going anywhere.

I push her up against the wall, taking her chin to look directly at me. Yet she still averts her gaze. "What's going on with you??" I asked her, I was seriously confused, she never acts like this. "Ayato..you really don't understand emotions at all.." she replies back, what does she mean by that? I gave her a confused expression and asked her what she was going on about, but then it dawned upon me. Ha! this cheeky virgin. "You're acting this way over a kiss? haha you're hilarious." I tell her, and she gets all defensive. "Well it wasn't really a kiss though! You were just drinking my blood from my lip..there's no way that would count as a kiss.." she says then looks down, I couldn't help but laugh a little at her, this was too cute. She's such an intriguing girl her reactions kinda turn me out. "You're right, I think I can give you some better kisses." I say and catch her off guard, I press my lips to hers and give her a nice lovers kiss. My tongue slips in and I can feel her melting, she's never been kissed like this, she's never been kissed in general, I'll be her first everything, I'll teach her body, mind and soul to obey me. I snake my hands to her butt, and I grip it tightly, she's got a pretty nice ass to make up for the lack of breasts. I smack it, and this catches her by surprise. She pulls away but I bring her back into the kiss, I'm not even close to done. But she pulls away again, she's panting like crazy, of course. Honestly she looked so enticing I couldn't help but kneel down, I told her to take off her panties, she refused. Of course she would refuse she's a lil virgin, not for long. I'm about to take her. I drip her legs and then take off her underwear, she tried crossing her legs, that won't stop me. Her attempts did fill me up with joy though, I liked seeing her fiery spirit, humans can be so lame sometimes. I pry open her legs and then place light kisses up her thigh, licking and sucking her inner thigh leaving my marks all over them, she was lightly moaning at this, but still telling me to stop, that's fine the more she hates it the more I will do it. I take a bite out of her thigh then take my finger, lapping some of her blood, I pop my fingers into my mouth to lick off the blood, I make sure I give her eye contact because then I place my fingers into her soaked sweet part. "A..Ayato why..?" She stuttered out, I smirked at her, and stuck my entire tongue in there, I licked it from bottom to top, but before I could go crazy on her, a 4 eyes clean freak opened the door and disrupted us.Oh man, here comes a lecture. "Ayato, I never imagined you would do such a vile thing at school, see to it that you both clean yourselves up and take these activities elsewhere." Looks like she's saved for now, I won't let her get away next time!

#diabolik lovers #diabolik boys #dialovers #yui komori #diabolik brothers #diahell #smut #ayato sakamaki #ayato x yui #yui x ayato #light smut #smut fiction #haunted dark bridal

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abloomingsunflower · 4 months

Text

Meet Snowflake!

[E.L.A oc's go brrrr-..]

[I haven't introduced her yet so- I'm doing it now. This is her official design because I wasn't sure about the old one-]

Basic information:

Snowflake is Albedo's adopted daughter, who apparently can control winter. But she can't control her ice power very well, which results in little accidents to happen often. Hope is training her.

She's 18 years old, a month younger than Lux, 5'6 ft tall and enjoys reading Marvel comics.

Snow is a menace to society/aff

She is Lux's non-blood related long lost twin/j/nsrs

Snowflake is a descendant of Quetzalcoatl, the deity of war. Corr.Nightmare tried to kill her once he found out about her existence. The girl fought back as best she could but was quickly overpowered. Luckily she was saved from "an mysterious winged lady".

Now Snowflake is striving to control her power better and learn more about her ancestor.

(Fun fact: Her real name is Estelle. Snowflake is just a nickname.)

Origins:

It's unknown who her parents are or where they are. But Snow never bothered to find that out.

"They abandoned me, whoever they are. Valid reason or not, I'm better off without them right? I'm sure they must've thought the same. My life is fine as it is, I already have an amazing adoptive father."

Snowflake is actually a part of Quetzalcoatl's soul, his will. All those years ago when he died, a part of him refused to give up. He refused to succumb to the fatal wounds. He refused to let his kingdom fall in the hands of his enemy.

So that strong determination caused a part of his soul to separate from it's owner. It reincarnated as different people over the years, while Quetzalcoatl wandered the earth as a spirit.

Now, Snowflake is the current reincarnation.

Only when Corr.Nightmare gets killed and the kingdom is free, Quetzalcoatl will finally rest and his will shall return to him.

Abilities:

-Summoning weapons made out of ice.

-Manipulating the weather.

-Control over ice in general.

-Can survive just fine in extremely cold temperatures.

-Can sense and distinguish people's different auras, including the dead's. (But she can't see the dead, which makes it difficult to guess who it is. She can find out from the aura alone if the spirit is a threat or not.)

-Can create snow giants and creatures.

[Will be updated.]

Her opinion on the people she knows:

-Albedo.

"We met when I tried to run away from the orphanage. Then as I went further and further away, I bumped into him. He asked me why was I crying, and he comforted me. He took me back to the orphanage and on the way we were talking and getting along. When we arrived, he told the caretaker he wanted to adopt me. Much to my own surprise. Now here we are. He's actually a very supportive dad, the kind of dad everyone would want, to be honest. No matter what, he always thinks about me first. He comforted me when I cried, defended me on arguments, never turned a blind eye on me, and even gives great advice. He is the reason I'm happy."

-Cross.

"That baker my dad likes so much. His pastries are awesome! He's a nice guy, really. I genuinely think him and Albedo would make a good couple, I mean- Have you seen the way they look at eachother?? They NEED to get together already, I swear to god-"

-Dream.

"I love and respect uncle, but- Someone needs to teach him how to be less oblivious of your surroundings. He's blind when it comes to love, and I can tell he would be an easy target to manipulate..- I noticed he looks down sometimes, maybe because of his marriage?"

-Ink.

"The second most beautiful woman? Her? Are you kidding me? Ink is nice and all but not only does her sense in fashion suck, she's also kinda dumb. I'm just being honest! She's a mother, a grown ass woman, yet she's almost never by her husband's or kids' side, or anywhere near the castle. I swear I saw her in a bar drinking once. No, twice. That second time there was a strange man with her. I just kept walking to avoid being seen by her."

-Palette.

"We only really meet when uncle Dream invites me and dad over. Sometimes we talk. Lux told me he used to bully her and frame her for things she didn't do when they were younger. Even now, he's doing some pretty bad stuff. But he looks..Well. Miserable. I almost feel bad for him sometimes. Maybe he is getting his stress out on her? Anywho I can only suggest one thing for him: Therapy. And I will drag him there by the feet if I have to."

-Lux.

"We're complete polar opposites, and still get along just fine. I can't help but see her like a sister I never had. She's got everything! Is a princess, does nice things, is rich and lucky in lottery, has amazing dresses, has a handsome fiancée, is famous and all, and she's very pretty! Like, damn!- I think she really deserves all those. I'm glad she's not like those corrupt rich people, she actually donates to charities and orphanages. I look up to her a lot. In fact, I want to be like her."

-Hope.

"Miss Hope is the one training me and Lux's fiancée. They are so skilled..! It's hard to keep up with them sometimes during sparring. They've beat me countless times.. But I won't give up there! No way in hell. This is to get revenge on that bastard for nearly murdering me.."

-Merciless.

"Him and Lux seem perfect, to be honest. We get along very well. I've read almost all the books he wrote. He's like an older brother to me. Apparently, he wants to be a wizard. He's trying to make fire, like Miss Hope. Though..once I accidentally froze him- I don't understand how it happened, I was just patting his shoulder and then BAM! Thank god we had Miss Hope and their fire. I apologized so much that day..I'm still embarrassed."

-Angst.

"..I've heard about that guy. Isn't that the one that can see spirits? I think he could help me, something with a powerful aura has been following me around for days on end and I need answers."

-Artemis.

"She's that famous singer, and Merciless' little sister. Not gonna lie, she makes amazing music..I listen to it all the time. Some of her songs are calming and perfect for reading. She's also Palette's best friend. I think these two are in love, even their fans are making rumors about them being together-"

-Goth.

"She used to make fun of me and bother me at every chance she got. Along with that group of fans- Until..well, I snapped one day. I caused a snow storm, since I felt overwhelmed. It blew everyone away but her. I think I shoved her away after that, but then realized I didn't die. At first I thought 'Maybe it's my power', until I found out from Idiotka that a grim reaper's soulmate doesn't die from their touch. ..Nothing is confirmed yet. Because apparently Lux and Palette didn't die from Goth's touch either. This situation is very confusing. Anyways, we became friends in hopes of finding out. All we do is hang out and gossip about every single thing we can think of. It's actually nice being around Idiotka.."

-Corr.Nightmare/Alphonse.

"Can you believe Artemis speaks good about a moron like that? He clearly didn't think twice before deciding to attempt murdering a little girl, so why should I feel sympathy for a tyrant? I still remember his face... ... He scares me. What if I fail to kill him?"

-Killer.

"I don't believe she chose to marry him on her own will. What kind of psycho would?? I feel bad for her. She's very pretty too."

-Crescent.

"Isn't that the priest in that one church..? I dunno, I'm not religious. So I don't visit churches at all. But his face reminds me so much of that bastard.."

-Quetzalcoatl.

"My ancestor! I'm gonna call him grandpa, it's easier. Man, I wish I could meet him.. Idiotka took me to this secret library and I've been studying about his history. I have to say, I admire him even more now. As I read all those history books, I pictured the sceneries of the old kingdom in my head. For some reason, everything described there feels so familiar.."

Fun facts:

-She's allergic to chocolate, so she is always eating fruit pastries or vanilla. She found that out when she once tried chocolate cake in Cross' café.

-Snowflake is a fan of horror games and movies, even playing with Goth sometimes.

-She never really had real friends until she met Goth. Snow only had a small group of online friends.

-Albedo's nickname for her is "Tuna", which Snow is always complaining about.

-Snowflake always wondered about the identity of the winged woman who saved her that day. She wishes to thank her.

-She has a true/guardian form <3

-She is the key to Surprise Ending in Sunflower AU.

[If she interacts with Angst and Angst decides to tell her about the timelines, the two of them will try to make Cross and Hope tell the truth to everyone and the game will end.]

Evil Lux AU and all the characters made by @anotherrosesthatfell <33

Snowflake belongs to me.

#a sunflower in full bloom au #evil lux au #snowflake [e.l.a]#character info #oc design #fun facts #idk what i'm doing with life.

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rubykgrant · 4 months

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Simmons would rather talk about ANYTHING ELSE besides his own gender/sexuality... but I have some thoughts~

(mostly connected to stuff that comes up in my big RVB story-line)

First of all, his parents are just sucky people. In general. They only wanted to have kids in the hope of impressing a relative, get some of that inheritance money... however, the baby was a little over-due, the relative passed away before the birth even happened, so no extra kid added to the will. Poor baby was a "disappointment" from the start.

By the time the kiddo turned 7, the question- "What if I was a boy?" had become- "Can I BE a boy?". Mr and Mrs Simmons had actually hoped for a son anyway, so they were "accepting" of this (but make no mistake, if this wasn't something they wanted for themselves, they would have been more UNPLEASANT). Because they already moved a couple of times and changed schools, Richard was able to start over where nobody knew who he was previously. A relief in some ways, however... mom and dad were very insistent that the "past" never be discussed. Again, it was encouraging to begin transitioning (first socially, then later medically), but Richard was taught not to acknowledge he was trans at ALL, which began a lot of internalized self-resentment from the get-go.

His dad was the one who would keep on "testing" him as he grew up, purposefully putting Richard into situations where he would have to prove himself, in the most backwards, nonsensical, and frankly- sexist ways; "A REAL MAN is better at sports than girls, so prove you can win against all the girls in your PE class!" and so-on. Obviously that's BS for SEVERAL reasons, and it just sets Richard up to have a weird ego-failure complex, and also think there is such a thing as "running girly laps".

Richard was always pretty scrawny, and during highschool, he had a growth-spurt that made him extra tall and lanky. More awkward, basically. He had a flat chest all on his own, but thanks to teasing from other kids, he was extremely nervous about EVER taking his shirt off. Thanks to the weird background-sexist-radiation from his dad, he thought it was just a given that he should be interested in girls... but he's a little afraid of girls (especially all the competitive jock girls who hate his guts for making them lose during team competitions). He almost tries to force himself into having crushes, but nothing ever clicks.

Once he's out of highschool, he gets surgery (no need for top, because- flat), and is hoping that he'll be able to start having A Real Life now... but he doesn't get into college, he can't get a job anywhere, he doesn't have any friends to live with, and his parents are threatening to just kick him out if he doesn't prove himself yet again. The last option is to join the Red Army, so that's where he goes... and then ALL THAT happens.

Simmons didn't exactly "come out" to anybody while in Blood Gulch, but after the whole surgery incident with Grif, Sarge knows about Simmons' medical history, and he doesn't call attention to it. In many ways, it is similar to what his own parents did (and partially why Simmons imprints on Sarge as a father figure). However, even through all the weird insults and ramblings, Sarge ironically gives Simmons more "attention" than his actual dad. It isn't always GOOD attention, but this is also the first time somebody has known this aspect of who Simmons is, and didn't treat him differently after the fact. So. That's almost kinda-sorta good? (it is still not great, because Sarge is an a-hole, but you take what you can get).

Simmons the proceeds to spend the next decade+ bickering with Grif, and not noticing MORE is going on, because they're both stupid (affectionate) (also FRUSTRATED). Simmons is still dealing with a lot of issues that are basically set in stone within his brain. When he starts to finally have genuine friendship feelings toward Grif, that alone is weird, because he barely likes anybody, and almost nobody ever likes him. When a whole CRUSH starts to happen, Simmons does not even get it. WTF is with all these weird gay thoughts in his head? Where'd that come from? For somebody who claims to be SMART, it takes him a while to do the math on this.

Eventually, waaaaay down the road, there would be some event, maybe around the younger generation on Chorus, where people are sharing things they've learned about gender/sexuality. A few of the Reds and Blues are kinda casually like- "Oh, I didn't know there was a word for that, I guess that's me!" or even- "I don't share this often but, yeah. I'm transgender," and- "I guess some of you already know, but I still want to say it. I'm gay"... and Simmons. He is just petty enough to FINALLY say- "I'm GAYER". It also takes him a full minute to remember, and add- "Oh, uh. I'm trans, too. More trans than you. I named myself Dick. I WIN"

He also works on un-packing internalized sexism and what-not, and when he reconnects with the girls on his team, he's much less nervous and better at treating them as individual people. He's aware of how much he used to suck, and it took a long time, but he's finally doing the whole "personal growth" thing. His parents still suck, but after the extended family of friends in his life have gone through changes as well, Simmons can see where he actually belongs

#red vs blue #rvb #dick simmons

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bobmckenzie · 6 months

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Let Me Help ⇢ selfshipvember day 3

word count: ~2000 (I swear this was supposed to be like 1k max idk how this happened LOL) blurb: Bob hurts himself getting a snack, and Caitie helps patch him up when she learns about his dizziness around blood. tw: blood/scar/general wound talk, (almost) fainting

Hockey just wasn’t the same without a snack, but the McKenzie house was low on anything good. The crackers Bob’d been eating were stale and boring, and needed something—he hated to leave his spot on the couch next to Caitie, but remembered there was a block of cheese in the fridge that might still be good and headed off to the kitchen to slice some, hoping he wouldn’t miss any goals.

He should’ve waited for a commercial break, since he was still trying to poke his head around the corner and catch a glimpse of the TV as he worked—Bob winced when the blade caught his thumb, a little groan of pain escaping him as the knife in his left hand clattered to the floor, gaze shooting to his other hand as he mentally scolded himself. He was preparing what was probably the world's simplest snack, and yet he’d managed to screw it up.

Beads of blood were already blooming on the wound, and Bob’s breath caught in his throat at the sight. He could handle pain well enough, but blood…

He tore his gaze away, turning to reach for the nearby roll of paper towels, but his vision was getting fuzzy, darkness looming around the edges. The roll slipped out of his grasp, knocking a mug into the sink, dishes clanging.

Doug called out sarcastically from the living room, though he sounded much farther away. “Who knew someone could be so loud getting cheese, eh?”

In the other room, Caitie smiled but rolled her eyes at Doug’s remark and stood up from the couch to see what Bob was up to, or if maybe he needed some help. Truthfully, she was there more to hang out with him than to watch hockey—and maybe was hoping to stay late enough that he’d nod off and fall asleep on her shoulder like he had just last week.

She was so into the thought that she barely noticed as Doug said something about a commercial break and stood up to rush to the bathroom. But the hopeful little daydream she was having was cut short as soon as she stepped into the kitchen—Bob was leaning against the counter, white as paper as blood trailed down from his thumb to his palm.

“Oh my god–!” She started heading to grab a chair from the little table by the window so he could sit, but saw him sway and rushed over to put her arms around him instead. She wasn’t strong enough to hold him up when his body was dead weight like this, but her support helped lead him down to the floor a little more gently.

“Bob?” She asked, eyes scanning from his injury to his face, which she quickly took in her hands, trying to get those glazed eyes to look at her. The cut didn’t seem too bad—she could tell the bleeding was slowing to a stop already. Everything else was worrying her far more, her heart pounding at the sight of him, and not for the usual reasons. “Doug!” she called, but got no response.

“‘Mm'okay…” Bob mumbled, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch. He meant it, too—something about his arm slinged over her shoulder, and her hands on his face, was making everything come back into focus. “Jus’... gimmie a minute…”

“Can you look at me?” She was pretty sure that was one of the things you were supposed to ask in a situation like this. In her fainting spells in the past, anyway, once she closed her eyes it was usually lights out. “Maybe you should lie down.”

“No, really, I’m okay.” He blinked his eyes open, looking at her like she asked—hey, if he had to look anywhere, he liked this view most of all. And it wasn’t every day he had an excuse to be this close to her. “It’s just… bleedin’ makes me kinda…” He shrugged, heat crawling up his neck at the admission. “I never been good with it, s’all.”

She gave him a soft smile, glad to see some of his color returning. “I think it’s stopping, if that makes you feel any better. Let me help you get it clean and everything—Do you have a first-aid kit?”

He snorted a little, shrugging, trying to play it off like it was a silly question—the truth was with her looking at him all doe-eyed, holding him that gently, he just couldn’t think straight enough to be sure if there was one in the house or not. “I don’t think so, eh.”

She laughed a little, relieved to see him acting more and more like himself. “I have some band-aids in my bag—lemee grab a couple, and then I’ll clean it.”

His smile faltered, brow furrowing a little, stomach twisting with guilt—she was being too nice to him, and he was ruining her night because he was a klutz who couldn’t handle the sight of blood. “Caitie, y’know, you don’t gotta do all that. I’ll be fine—”

“I’m getting the band-aids.” She took his face a little more firmly in her hands, looking at him pleadingly. “Don’t try to get up yet, okay? Please?”

He was too tired to come up with some sort of quip, though he wished he could think of something to stop her from taking her hands off his face, to have her sit there with him just a little longer. “Okay.”

She gave him a gentle little pat on the cheek before picking his arm up off her shoulders and standing up, heading back to the living room. He kept his eyes trained on the table at the other end of the room, not wanting to risk another glance at his thumb. He didn’t want her to have to worry about him again if she came back and found him all woozy, or worse, out cold.

She was back in just a few seconds, two individually wrapped plasters in her hand. Hosehead trailed in behind her, pausing for a second to look at Bob before heading over to his foodbowl, clearly not too concerned.

“How’re you feeling now? Less faint?” Caitie asked as she tucked the bandages into her pocket, standing beside him to use the sink.

He squirmed a little at the questions, her voice so genuine and caring. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had fussed over him like this. He nodded, looking up to see her washing her hands. “Lots better, eh.”

“I’m not sure how to… Oh! I have an idea.” Reaching for one of the cabinets, she pulled out a bowl. The next thing he knew she was handing the pull-out faucet from the sink down to him. “Hold this for me?”

He took it, understanding dawning on him as she reached for the soap and finally sat next to him again, setting everything on the floor beside them—she didn’t want him standing yet, so she was bringing the sink to him to wash the cut.

“Can I take your hand?” She met his eyes, continuing as he nodded, “It might sting a little.”

“‘S’okay.” If there was anyone he trusted to be gentle, it was her. For good reason, obviously—she took his hand softly in both of hers, her touch careful and slow. Her thumb brushed over his knuckles, butterflies blooming in his stomach at the sensation. “Guess you must think I’m like, a total wuss now, eh?” he joked to distract himself from how tender she was being with him, how close she was, the softness of her skin and the fact that he could smell the scent of her perfume—she was wearing the one that always reminded him of apples.

She smiled, briefly meeting his eyes over the frames of her glasses before her attention returned to his hand. “I know you better than that.” She rolled up the sleeve of his flannel so it wasn’t in the way. “And lots of people get unsteady around blood.”

“S’usually just when it’s me who’s bleedin’,” he explained, feeling her gently spread soap over the wound. “I do okay when like, the other guys on the team get a nosebleed or somethin’. But when it’s me, and it happens out of the blue like that…” He shrugged, flushing again, wondering why he was even saying any of this when it sounded so lame. “I dunno. It started when I was a kid—Doug and I was fightin’ one day in the living room, and I ended up fallin’ on the coffee table. I had this big gash on my shoulder and had t’go get stitches, but Doug was still mad at me and kept tellin’ me all these lies on the ride to the hospital about how much blood there was, and that he could like, see my bones coming out—‘cause I couldn’t really see back there, y’know?”

“Sounds like Doug.” Her tone was light, though the story made her heart clench a little. She shook her head, understanding perfectly well why that might’ve messed with his head. “He’s lucky I don’t go and barricade him in the bathroom.”

Bob laughed, still not looking at his thumb even as she took the faucet from his other hand to rinse the soap off over the bowl. He kept his gaze on her face, finding distractions in the way she looked so focused, so careful. “He said he was sorry, so.” He shrugged a shoulder. “‘S’not his fault it freaked me out so bad. Or that I was too stupid to know he was lyin’.”

He was so forgiving, she thought, gently drying the wound with a paper towel. And way too hard on himself. “You were a kid.”

“Hmm.” Bob hummed noncommittally. He stayed quiet as she took out the band-aids and finished up, overlapping them in a crisscross that made them feel extra secure on his finger. Finally he looked down, wiggling his thumb a little, all traces of blood gone. “Good as new, eh? Thanks, Caitie.” The word didn’t seem like enough, but was all he could think to say. If he tried to say something else, something more, he’d probably just make an even bigger hose of himself.

“No problem—it feels okay and everything?” When he nodded, she bumped her knee against his. “You never finished your story—was your shoulder okay?”

His face lit up, eyebrows raising. “See for yourself, eh,” he said, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his flannel so he could push the collar down far enough to show his shoulder.

It was silly, she knew, but she couldn't stop herself from blushing at the sight of the exposed skin, the hair on his chest and a few little freckles on his upper arm she'd never gotten the chance to notice before. He turned so she could see the three inch scar right above his shoulder blade, raised and pale from time.

“Looks like it hurt.” Her hand moved, wanting to touch, to run her fingertips over the skin, but she pulled it back before she could fall victim to the whim. “Did the stitches hurt? I’ve never had any.”

“Well…” He smiled as he adjusted his shirt back onto his shoulder, but it was a sheepish, embarrassed smile that almost looked more like a grimace. “I don’t really know. Turns out that sorta thing makes me pass out too. Thought maybe I grew out of that one, but…” He hesitated, but lifted a hand to brush his hair back from his forehead with an embarrassed chuckle, exposing the little scar at his hairline. “Got this one during a game two seasons ago and found out pretty fast that I didn’t. I was all stitched up ‘fore I even came to.”

“Well, you handle band-aids pretty well,” she joked.

He laughed, moving to stand. “C’mon. Let's go before we miss the whole game, eh.”

“Oh—” She stood up, quickly wrapping an arm around him. “Not too fast.”

“Caitie—” He was about to tell her it wasn’t necessary, that he wasn’t feeling lightheaded at all anymore—then wondered why on earth he’d do that when she was up against his side again, holding onto him and letting him rest his head against her shoulder.

“Yeah?”

He smiled up at her. “Thanks.”

#this prompt list has a lot of stuff that inspired me for fics so 👀 in my posting my writing era PERHAPSE...#anyways heres another installment of 'I LOVE WRITING BOB'S DIALECT/ACCENT/SPEECH PATTERNS'#kits selfshipvember #selfshipvember #self shipping #self ship community #caitiewrites #peanut butter and jelly donut

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