#and i can’t even tell her that i just don’t have enough energy to speak or think so she just thinks i’m having an attitude or something but | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yueebby · 7 months

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indulge me? — gojo satoru

synopsis you and gojo go on an overnight mission and it goes wrong in every way

contents so. much. pining. (2.8k words of it!?), one bed trope, whipped!gojo, ooc gojo, completely self indulgent, a lot of cardiovascular talk, they’re first years in this!

notes first time i’ve written in AGES. sorry :3 ps this is a little snippet from a satosugu x reader series im thinking about starting. thoughts?

(edit: i wrote a part ii)

Gojo Satoru was born blessed. From birth and to death he will always be honored. It wasn't his fault that the Heavens delighted in him. So when Yaga had announced that he and you would be sharing an overnight mission to Kyushu, he nearly leapt in joy (lucky him)!

You, on the other hand, were less than thrilled to find out that you were going to be traveling alone with Gojo Satoru. For two whole days. It was a death sentence.

“Make sure to text me, so I know you're not dead.” Shoko looks between you and Gojo. Either your head will implode as a result of Gojo, or he is gonna be on the receiving end of your wrath. Shoko can’t wait to see which.

“Do take pictures, I heard the onsens there are incredible.” Suguru slyly adds. Satoru perks up at his comment. The two of them share a knowing look before Gojo speaks up.

“Wanna take a dip with me once we get there, [Name]?” He looks into your eyes, his lips are quirked upwards like he’s up to no good (which he is). “I promise I won’t take a peek!” He winks.

“Keep fantasizing, Gojo.”

“Oh I will.” He hums happily. The smile on his lips is kind of cute, you decide. Just a little.

— — — — — — —

Kurokawa, you come to find out is a very small town in Kyushu. So when people start to go missing, the entire town falls into shambles. Before your trip, Yaga had made it known the enemy you’d be facing.

“A common denominator of the missing persons is that they were all young women.” He had warned you and Gojo. “It’s an unidentified curse, but I trust that the two of you will be able to handle it.”

Three missing girls. All under the age of 25. Two of which were locals, one being a tourist.

The moment you arrive on the island of Kyushu, your guard is higher than ever. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Gojo.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of some horny curse,” He looks down at you as the two of you make your way down a small street to your ryokan. Kurokawa was a traditional town, its pride resting on the old culture causing it to be untouched by modern architecture.

Unamused by his nonchalant attitude, you decide to ignore his vulgar comment, “What grade curse do you think we’re up against?”

He makes a noise to show that he’s thinking. “Does it really matter? It’ll be no match for me either way.”

You roll your eyes, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, we still have to figure out what happened to the victims.”

“I don’t see why that’s necessary, but okay.” Your snow haired peer dismisses. It makes you a bit envious that he doesn’t have to ever feel fear for his life. Must be nice.

The two of you arrived at your designated ryokan soon enough, it was a small town after all. Gojo leads the way with you following right after. You can’t discern any cursed energy in the building, but you still make a mental note to ask Gojo about it after you both are situated.

An elderly lady in an orange kimono stood behind the desk, smiling at you and you returned it back happily.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a young couple here.” She says. That’s right, with the recent disappearance of young girls, there would be a sudden decrease of tourism around this part of town. “You certainly are a beautiful match!”

You gratefully accept her compliment, “Thank you, but we’re not–”

“Thanks granny!” Gojo wraps a strong arm around your shoulder. “I don’t know how I even managed to win her over!” There’s a wide grin on his face that makes your eye twitch. Leave it to him to tell people the two of you were together. Not only that but he totally disrespected the old lady with his informal talk!

“Unhand me, you!” You forcefully whisper at him, while trying to unwrap yourself from his hold. His arm does not budge even as you try to push it off. What the hell is this boy eating? Gojo chuckles with the old lady while you struggle.

“My, the two of you remind me so much of my husband and I in the days of our youth,” She sighs dreamily. Her age must be interfering with her memory because there was nothing inherently romantic going on between you and Gojo. “How long will you be staying here?”

“Only one night,” Gojo decides that he has tormented you enough and lets you go. He slides her his card and she pulls out something from the old wooden counter she stands behind.

A single key.

Your eyes bug out. Gojo’s eyebrows raise. You laugh nervously, face feeling warmer than it was thirty seconds ago.

“There must have been a misunderstanding. We need two rooms, ma’am.” You hold up two fingers to emphasize your point.

The smile on the old woman’s face falls, “I’m afraid I cannot do that.” Your jaw drops.

“Huh? Why not?” You press on further. Surely they could not have been booked out of all of their rooms. Tourism is at an all time low after the strange disappearances.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the strange disappearances in the area. It’s a miracle the two of you have even decided to stay here, which I am very grateful for. That is why I must repay you back by ensuring your safety. Otherwise I must ask you to leave and stay in the next town because I will not allow you to endanger yourself so carelessly.”

You blink. Neighboring town? That was hours away. The curse was here in Kurokawa. You can’t afford to jeopardize a mission just because of your own feelings.

Gojo’s hand is halfway to the key, but he waits for your approval. You sigh.

“It’s fine, we can do one. Thank you.” You bow your head. She smiled apologetically as she handed Gojo the key. Gojo, unbothered by the revelation, whistles happily as the lady leads the way to your suite.

— — — — — — —

operation satoru x [name]!!!!

Gojosatowu added getosugu, shoko.ieiri

Gojosatowu You wont believe it!!! shoko.ieiri What the hell is this gc And what the hell is Operation satoru x [name]? getosugu how come [name] isn’t in this? Gojosatowu Ladies, ladies, one question at a time please getosugu Expect a forehead flick for that comment shoko.ieiri Stfu and just answer the questions Gojosatowu alright alright [name] and i are sharing a room in kyushu!! i may come out of this mission a changed man. shoko.ieiri someone make sure [name] is still alive and well Gojosatowu I dont appreciate your lack of faith in me >:( shoko.ieiri Keep a six feet distance from her at all times perv Gojosatowu I might have to for my own sanity. What do you think she wears to bed? shoko.ieiri You disgust me sometimes getosugu Only sometimes? shoko.ieiri Let me correct myself. You disgust me. Gojosatowu Im feeling the love :(

“What are you giggling to yourself about?” You place a hand on your hips as you watch Gojo smile at his flip phone.

“Oh don’t you worry about it,” He closes it. Weird. “What’s the living situation?”

You sigh. “Despite its traditional arrangement, there is a bed.”

Gojo perks up. “Yeesh I’m glad! If I had to sleep on the floor my back would be all sore right on a mission. Y'know how annoying that is?”

You suck your teeth. “Allow me to rephrase myself. There is only one bed.”

There is an awful silence in the room, save for your erratically beating heart. Of course the old woman decided to place you in a couple’s suite.

“Heh.” Gojo chortles happily. “Wow, this must be a divine sign from God Himself. I mean, who are we to ignore this?”

“Don’t start,” You hold out an accusatory finger at him. “I’m gonna go request an extra futon.”

He pouts, “Don’t be like that, sharing a bed with me can’t be that bad.”

“I’m willing to bet otherwise.” You walk past him. The white haired boy watches you go like a sad puppy.

— — — — — — —

You took your time getting an extra futon, using it as an excuse to get all of the nervousness out of your system of sharing the same room as Gojo Satoru. Sharing a room with a boy was already bad enough, but Gojo? Your heart skipped a beat (out of nervousness, you insist!).

By the time you make it back to the room, the lights are out. You assume that Gojo decided to go to sleep early. You don’t blame him. Tomorrow is gonna be a long day of hunting for the curse rampaging Kurokawa.

The only light source in the room is coming from the bathroom. You sigh. The idiot must’ve forgotten to turn it off. Nonetheless, you were gonna go get unready either way so you make your way to the half open door.

On the sink is a complimentary toothbrush that you help yourself to. You apply some paste and–

There is a sound of something sliding shut from behind you. You look up at the mirror. Standing behind you was Gojo. Wet. And naked.

“Oh my gosh!” You spit out your toothpaste and ran out of the room. How did you fail to see that Gojo was in the restroom? You blame it on the sliding doors separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom. Oh my gosh. Your face feels like it’s on fire. He has a six pack. And why does his stupid hair look like that when it's wet? Your heart was beating at an abnormal rate. This is so inappropriate.

Shortly after your freakout, Gojo steps out of the bathroom. There was no way you could face him now.

“Aw, don't be so shy now. It’s not like this will be the last time you’ll see me like this.” Gojo stands in the doorway. There is a towel wrapped around his waist, still leaving him indecent in your eyes.

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating Gojo! And lock the door when you’re in the restroom you creep!” You look anywhere but him.

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault, was it? You were taking so long I thought you left me here alone.” You can practically hear him pouting. “Either way, you were the one checking me out.”

Your eyes widen, “I was not checking you out! Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Don’t feel ashamed, this can all be yours,” He gestures down to his body.

“You freak.” you blanch.

He winks at you.

This was going to be a long night.

— — — — — — —

It takes you about half an hour to calm down from the bathroom catastrophe. By now, you’re situated in your futon while Gojo is tucked on the bed. If you had to guess, it’d be nearing midnight around now. You just need to close your eyes and get some sleep before your mission tomorrow.

Except you can’t sleep.

Every time you close your eyes, your mind betrays you and an image of Gojo post shower illustrates itself in your mind. And it doesn’t help that he sleeps shirtless. You seriously need your mind cleansed.

That wasn’t your only issue. The room was sub zero. Who knew traditional ryokans had such advanced air conditioning systems? All you could hear was the air conditioning machine overworking itself. You could even argue that it was colder than Shoko’s morgue. And your sleep shirt and shorts were doing little to help insulate you.

“Wanna come cuddle with me?” The last person you wanted to hear from breaks the silence. You pretend to be asleep. “I know you’re not asleep! My six eyes tell me that you’re shivering.” Busted.

“I am not cuddling with you.” You stare at the ceiling above you, arms crossed. How could he even propose such an idea? Has he no shame?

“Well I can’t face the old granny here if my girlfriend ends up dead by freezing!”

“I am not your girlfriend, Gojo. Nor will I die.”

“That’s not what she thinks. Plus we have a mission tomorrow, so I can’t have you getting sick on me now.”

“I’ll be fine, Gojo. Now go to sleep.”

“I run hot when I sleep, y’know. Let me be your personal heater.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning.

“I refuse.”

“Well I refuse your refusal.”

You blink.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Now c'mon,” He pats the spot next to him. “I’ll even make a wall in between us.”

You hear the bedsheets shuffle and you have to sit up to see that Gojo was stacking two pillows in the middle of the bed to prove his point. You’re nearly certain that the only thing you’ll be catching soon is a headache if you keep up with his antics. It was a tempting offer, one that you would surely accept if it wasn’t Gojo Satoru.

“Gojo, I—”

“...Please?” His voice is softer than you have ever heard it. It was unfair how Gojo was making it harder and harder to reject his offer.

A silent moment passes by.

“...Fine,” You reluctantly get up from your pathetic excuse of a futon. “But no funny business!” You warn him.

You see Gojo perk up from the bed. He looks at you with expectant eyes, “You got it!” He gives you a thumbs up.

Whatever. If Gojo knew what was best for him, he wouldn’t try anything. You take in a deep breath before turning to face the opposite direction of where Gojo laid.

“Good night [Name],” You hear Gojo whisper. You sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, goodnight Gojo.”

Eyes closed, you pray a silent prayer that everything will be fine for the remainder of the mission.

— — — — — — —

Ever since Gojo was young, his body has been used to getting little amounts of sleep. Unsurprisingly, that caused him to have a natural alarm. It was always annoying whenever he woke up at the crack of dawn on a day when he didn't need to, but luckily for him, today it proved to be a blessing. There was an unfamiliar warmth radiating onto his body. Satoru opens his eyes.

He thinks he feels all of his six eyes widen when he feels himself wrapped around another body.

There you were, in all your beauty, lying fast asleep. In his embrace. Soft snores were escaping your mouth and there were stray hairs in your face. Did he mention how beautiful you looked sleeping? He might have to ask Shoko about heart disease because of how fast his heart was beating.

Unfortunately for him, you also seemed to be drifting away from dreamland and back to reality. Your eyes flutter and your eyebrows furrow. Gojo takes this to his advantage and does the worst thing he can think of; pretend to be asleep.

When you wake up, your mind is still hazy from the good night’s rest you had gotten, but not hazy enough to realize that your body was tangled with another’s. And you’re pretty sure the pillow you had been laying on last night was not this hard. You try to delude yourself into believing that this is all a dream, but the effects of your sleep were fading.

It takes all the strength in you to summon the courage to open your eyes. To your horror, you were firmly wrapped in Gojo’s arms and your legs were intertwined.

“What the hell?” You pull yourself away from him. On the floor below the bed laid the two pillows that Gojo had set up as a makeshift wall. You stare at them utter shock.

“No, don’t go, I’ll freeze to death,” Gojo whines, miraculously waking up. You glare at him.

“Explain to me what just happened or I swear Gojo, I’m going to–” You try to threaten him, but you can’t seem to formulate anything.

Unlike you, Gojo looked unbothered by the sudden turn of events. He even looked pleased. There was a lopsided smile on his face as he sighed, “What can I say, I guess you subconsciously want me after all.”

"I do not—"

“But if I had to guess, I’d say the room got too cold and we most likely cuddled for warmth unconsciously.” He shrugs it off like it was no big deal. You note that his hair is tousled from the night before.

You leave the warm bed you and Gojo had made. His theory was probably true, meaning it was neither of your faults. You purse your lips.

“I suppose that makes sense. I apologize for overreacting, I guess I was under the impression that we had done something lewd last night.” With that comment, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up both your mind and body.

You don’t end up seeing how red Gojo’s face got. It was foreign to feel all the blood rising to his cheeks. He takes one of his hands to slap it over his eyes before chuckling to himself. Yeah, he definitely knows why he likes you.

All of a sudden Gojo feels like he’s on top of the world. For you, it was just a moment of weakness.

┊⋆｡˚. ੈ ┊

Extra notes:

gojo wished he and you got to go to the onsen together.

gojo also regretted not taking a photo of you sleeping soundly in his arms. it would’ve been his new wallpaper.

for the remainder of the trip, gojo was at an all time high, successfully locating and exorcising the curse in less than an hour.

#i’d like to think they had a meet ugly that made him fall head over heels for [name]#[name] also believes her sole purpose on this earth is to humble him hehe #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kt.writes.·:*¨༺#i feel like i didnt make gojo mean enough. maybe next time #remember spring days!au

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smileysuh · 1 year

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hotflash

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. There'd been a time when leaving you alone to deal with your heat as an extreme precaution against unwanted pregnancy had been something the alpha could live with. But in the months he's had you as his mate, your cycles have synched up- and the thought that you're ripe and ready to be fucked - to be fucked by him - well, the wolf inside won't be tamed anymore. And Hyuck doesn't want it to be.

cw/ tw. dubious consent/cnc, pussy eating fiend, multiple orgasms, temperature play, popsicles, face riding, 69, oral (f/m receiving), deep throating, fingering, overstim, slight dacryphilia, spanking, power play, a/b/o alpha x omega dynamic, possessive hyuck, dirty talk, praise, knotting, protected sex, mentions of breeding kink, 'just the tip', etc... I pet names. his: alpha. hers: needy baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 5.3k

🍭 aus. alpha!hyuck, a/b/o, omega!reader, establish relationship, heat etc...

☀️ mlist + an. sometimes, attacking a bestie with her favorite tropes and her favorite boy is the best idea you can have... sorry Jewel ❤️

“Hyuck-” your strangled voice makes the hairs on the alpha’s arms stand up, his skin prickling with energy. He can tell - even through the phone - that you’re not doing well.

“You’re early,” he concludes- because your heat can never truly stick to a schedule, and Haechan supposes that - out of all the mating bullshit he’s already dealing with - of course this would be the cherry on top.

“Maybe you shouldn’t-” you begin to tell him the same thing you tell him every month, but Haechan’s not having it. He’s endured too many months already- paced outside your door like a wild animal for too many nights in a row-

“I have to bring you your suppressants,” he insists. The package of pills is in the back with Mark, who makes the bag crinkle when he holds it tighter. “I can’t believe you’re four days early-”

“Hyuck-” you whine his name again, a reaction to the anger tinged in his voice no doubt, and he grips the steering wheel tighter, pressing down on the gas.

“I’m bringing you suppressants,” the alpha states, leaving no room for argument this time.

Your meek “okay” is the only response he gets, and then the line goes dead.

The car fills with silence, the air thick with energy and tension.

“Don’t say anything,” Hyuck snaps at the man in his passenger seat.

“Wasn’t going to,” Jaehyun sighs, his voice much too calm for Haechan’s liking.

“I’ll say it,” Mark quips up from the backseat, “slow down, please.”

A growl tears its way out of Haechan’s chest, and he locks eyes with the beta in the backseat through the rearview mirror. “Fuck off, Mark.”

“I just mean- we’re already late to the start of her heat- speeding could end up with us dead, and then your omega is down a mate and her suppressants, which doesn’t help anyone.”

There’s truth in his words- but Hyuck is done listening to truths and rationals- he pushes the engine even harder just to spite the man who dares speak logic to him.

There’s no logic in this for Hyuck, not anymore.

There’d been a time when leaving you alone to deal with your heat as an extreme precaution against unwanted pregnancy had been something the alpha could live with. But in the months he’s had you as his mate, your cycles have synched up- and the thought that you’re ripe and ready to be fucked- to be fucked by him- well, the wolf inside won’t be tamed anymore.

And Hyuck doesn’t want it to be.

“I still think it’s very responsible that you’re listening to your mate and giving her at least some space during her heat,” Jaehyun notes. “Shows a lot of control.”

“Right, because I’m known for my control,” Haechan rolls his eyes.

In fact, he’s known for being impulsive. And the breeding kink he’d exhibited on your off-heat cycle had been enough to prompt you to shut your legs to him during your time of the month.

Regardless of any precaution taken by an omega in heat, knot condoms still break, alpha spunk still leads to pregnancy, and despite the best efforts of everyone involved, two of Haechan’s friends have accidentally gotten their mates knocked up in the past four months.

“But hey,” Mark says helpfully, “remember, you’re not the only alpha abstaining- Taeyong-”

“Taeyong’s mate hates pups,” Haechan seethes. “And she knows he’s not ready to be a father.”

“Are you?”

“You know what?” Haechan pushes his car as fast as it can go, “Yeah. I am.”

You hear Hyuck’s car pull up outside the heat cabin, tires kicking up gravel, and you await the onslaught to your senses that comes next.

Everything is heightened for you, and the second your mate opens his car door, the inklings of his scent become known to you.

The familiar smells of Jaehyun and Mark are on the periphery, and you hear the crinkle of a bag being passed off, your mate barking at his friends to ‘Fuck off-’

God, Hyuck telling others off shouldn’t be such a turn-on, but it is-

The sound of his footfalls suggests he’s jogging towards your little heat cabin, and the shaking of pills in a bottle brings you both peace and anxiety-

Part of you had been hoping Mark would be the one delivering your meds. Mark, a beta who you wouldn’t jump even in the worst of your heat-

But no, of course Haechan’s the one bringing them to you-

He’s always toed the line during your time of the month, and it appears this one won’t be any different.

You struggle to hold your breath, trying not to take gulps of air filled with his scent, which is becoming stronger and stronger-

Haechan stops outside the door, and you hear him take a breath-

“Fuck.”

He can say that again.

“You smell-”

He can say that again too.

“I’m not letting you in,” you tell him from where you’re curled up in bed, in the corner farthest from the door.

“Even though daddy has your meds?” His voice is lower than you’re used to- and he doesn’t usually refer to himself as daddy- but you’d be lying if you say the term isn’t affecting you.

You can feel your sleeping shorts getting wetter by the second, body beginning to come alive at the notion that your mate is just a few meters away.

“I mean,” Haechan coughs. “Come on baby, you need your meds.”

“You’re horrible,” you groan, hating how easy it seems to be for him to switch between lust and seemingly perfect composure-

“Is that any way to speak to the guy with your suppressants?” you can hear the smile on his voice- the playful teasing. You wish it was truly just playful… but you know there’s an ulterior motive.

“If I open this door,” you tell him, “you’re going to come in and stay.”

“Maaaybe.” At least he’s not lying to you. “But come on- I could easily break in through the window if I really wanted- and I’m not, that’s gotta count for something right?”

“You’re horrible,” you repeat for the second time, burying your face in your pillow.

“Baby,” he places his hand on the door, pushing gently, and the wood moves everso in its frame, “let me in, let me help you with this.”

“By knocking me up,” you groan, mind already beginning to buzz with all the things you wish he’d do to you-

“I mean- sure,” you hear him swallow, “if you want, but… there are other ways.”

“Condoms break Hyuck, we’ve been over this-”

“What if I don’t even take my dick out?”

It’s the first time you’ve laughed all day, and it definitely relieves some of the tension in your shoulders. “You? Not taking your dick out?” Now it’s your turn to swallow thickly, a new rush of wetness tingling out of your core. “As if.”

“I could try it-” he insists, and this time you hear him press his forehead against the door, pushing forward again. “Come on- listen, I even got popsicles- I know you’re really hot right now, with your heat and everything… imagine the feeling of my cold tongue licking at you.”

“God-” you squeeze your thighs together, hating that he’s right, hating that what he’s suggesting sounds like the perfect cure to your predicament.

“That’s it baby, think of how good it will feel-” he coos, “you smell so fucking good, I could just eat you up-”

“Just tongue?”

“Maybe fingers too- I bet you’ve got ice in there, or I could put my hand in a bucket of cold water or something so it feels good- anything to cool you off.”

Your eyes go to the jug of ice water next to your bed that you’ve been sipping on, and you toy with the wet cloth that’s already lost its cool as it wraps one of your bare thighs, exposed by the fact that you’re only wearing sleeping shorts and a bralette to cover your modesty-

“No cock, I promise-”

He sounds so sincere.

Your pussy practically throbs at the notion of letting him in- you can’t believe how much your body reacts to the mere presence of your mate, and you can’t even imagine how good it will feel to let him enter the heat cabin and take care of you-

You have half a mind to tell him to fuck off, suppressants and all-

But your body wins, the tingling between your thighs taking over as you inhale a deep breath, allowing Hyuck’s familiar scent to wash over you and make you practically brain dead. “Give me a second- I have to get up and open the door-”

Your legs are wobbly as you stand from the bed, and the coolness of the hardwood floor offers some reprieve as you approach the only entrance to the heat cabin.

“Stand back?” you suggest, heart racing wildly in your chest-

You can’t believe you’re doing this.

There are three locks in total, and you undo each with shaking fingers.

The moment the last one clicks out of place, you scurry back to your bed, something like fear overtaking you.

You trust Hyuck- you do- but you’re not so sure you trust yourself. And you suppose, seeing as you’ve never allowed him near you during your heat, maybe you shouldn’t trust your mate after all-

He pushes open the door, and the full weight of your decision hits you.

The alpha takes a deep breath, and his chest rumbles with a primal growl as he releases it, his gaze taking you in inch by inch.

In one hand, he holds your meds, in the other, a plastic bag of what you assume to be heat provisions.

“Suppressants?” you question, skin prickling with sweat-

You need meds, you need at least some relief- something to dull the ache between your thighs-

“Needy baby,” Haechan says lowly, stepping into the cabin before closing the door behind him. “And four days early- at least we were already out getting you these,” he pulls the bottle of pills from the parchment bag, tossing them at you.

You catch the meds, cracking open the lid and spilling a few of the blue and white pills onto your hand, where you decide on taking two. Then you pop them into your mouth, grabbing the large ice water jug next to you to help wash them down.

“That’s it, baby-” Haechan says from where he’s putting provisions in the ice box. When he turns to face you again, he’s unwrapping a popsicle, “take those pills.”

“Hyuck-” you whimper, setting your drink and the suppressant bottle down to focus entirely on your mate.

“Your heat hit you pretty fast huh?” He licks the frozen treat, leaning back against the fridge and watching you. “Have you cum yet, baby?”

Instead of answering verbally, you take to nodding, gnawing on your lower lip.

“How many times?”

“Do you really have to be so far away?” you whine- and an even better question, has he always looked this fucking sexy?

“Just getting my tongue cold for you,” he responds, in the most non chalant way-

But you can see how blown his pupils are, and when you focus hard on his mouth- you see that his breathing is shallow-

“Now answer my question, babe,” Haechan presses. “How many times have you cum already?”

“Twice-” you tell him. “Once from- when you called and- I heard you speeding faster to get here- and then- again… from thinking about you-”

“Cute baby- couldn’t cum until you heard my voice huh? If I’d had known I had that sort of effect on you- we could have had phone sex your past few heats.”

You think you might cry if he doesn’t come closer, and the words that come out of your mouth as a response betray your growing irritability; “woulda, shoulda, coulda.”

“Oh baby,” Haechan releases a chuckle, but there’s little humor in it, “you’re gonna get it now.”

“Please-” you open your arms to him, and Haechan finally approaches the bed.

“Open your mouth baby,” he tells you, settling onto his knees at the foot of your mattress, “and come closer.” His hand wraps around your ankle, and he drags you towards him.

“Hyuck-” you go to say something, but the popsicle is presented to your lips, and you accept it, welcoming to cool treat into your mouth.

“That should cool you off,” he muses, pushing your legs open, “this might too.”

He presses his lips to your inner thigh, and you’re taken aback by how cold his mouth is- it’s an interesting feeling, but one you quickly begin to enjoy, as he gets closer and closer to your core.

“Lay back,” he tells you, “relax- and let me eat you.”

You release a moan around the popsicle you’re sucking on, letting your head fall back against the mattress, eyes closing-

Haechan pulls your sleeping shorts to the side, and he blows cool air across your pussy, making you twitch and whine even louder.

You garble his name around the popsicle, reaching down to play with his hair-

Your mate smacks your hands away. “Don’t touch me- it’s too hot to touch me,” he insists, and when you look down, you see his eyes are red with intensity.

“Hyuck?” you whimper, recougnizing that eye flares like this are one of the first signs in an impending rut-

You’re early, could it be that he’s going to be early too? Are you two that in sync?

This is probably a bad idea, you realize, as Hyuck dives into your pussy, pushing his long, cold tongue into your hole-

A horrible, terrible, very bad idea.

But fuck- Hyuck’s tongue is no joke, even on a non-heat day-

Alpha’s are known for having long tongues, perfect for pleasuring their omega mates- and Haechan has always been a pussy eating fanatic-

He pushes his face between your thighs like it’s his job, licking and lapping at you with his cold tongue- it feels absolutely incredible.

But then he’s pulling away, and you’re crying out-

“Give me your jug of ice water,” he commands, voice gruff-

You follow through immediately, stretching to grab it off the nightstand, hurrying to give it to your mate.

You’re curious about what’s going to happen next- but Hyuck simply allows the jug to smack down against the floor next to him, and then he returns to your pussy, grabbing the back of your thigh with a warm hand to tug you closer-

Part of you wants to call him out- to say it’s unfair of him to touch you if you can’t touch him- but the words die down as his tongue sinks into you, and your focus returns to the deep feeling of pleasure growing in the pit of your stomach.

The popsicle you’re sucking on is getting widdled down shockingly quickly, the cool liquid running down your throat aiding in your temperature regulation while the man between your legs works you closer and closer to orgasm with a tongue that’s also beginning to lose its cool.

As you finish the frozen treat, you find yourself teetering on the edge of pleasure, and with your focus now fully on Hyuck- “I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me,” he growls into your pussy, nose flicking by your clit, “cum on my tongue.”

He buries the wet muscle into your core, lapping at your walls-

And he knows you can never say no to your alpha- your body is physically incapable.

Your pussy clenches, hard, and an electric wave of euphoria rushes over your form, white-hot and all-consuming.

“Alpha!” you moan, back arching- your hands seeking out an anchor, which they find in Hyuck’s hair.

You grind yourself down against his face, riding out an orgasm that has your mind going practically numb.

And your mate works you through it with an unrelenting vigor, until you’re a shaking, quivering mess, struggling to get away from his mouth to escape the sensitivity.

Hot tears roll down your cheeks, and you’re in disbelief at how good it feels-

You’ve had orgasms during your heat before, but none of them have ever been like this- none torn out of you by your alpha.

Hyuck pulls away from your pussy, and your body slumps against the bed, your breathing labored while your heart races madly in your chest.

A drop of cold water hits your abdomen- and then another- the feeling making you flinch, hot body suddenly overtaken by goosebumps-

You open your eyes to see Haechan, holding his hand just above your stomach, and you realize he’s the source of the water. His hand is dripping with it.

“Did that feel good baby?” he asks, bringing his fingers down to touch your skin, dragging a cold, wet line from rib to naval-

You squirm against the bed, body conflicted between your hot core and the coolness being brushed over your skin.

“Your hand-” you whimper, unable to finish your sentence, but you don’t need to, Hyuck understands you.

He always understands you.

“Put it in your water jug while I ate you out,” he tells you simply. “Wanted to get my fingers cold like my tongue… gonna fuck you with them now, and it’s going to feel so good. Trust me.”

“Please-” you find yourself pushing your hips closer to his face again, and Hyuck notices too, releasing a chuckle.

“Look at you-” he coos, “and your… needy behavior. Is that what you are? A needy little baby?”

“Yes-”

“Needy to be finger fucked till you cum?”

“God,” you groan, “please!”

Haechan’s gaze returns to your pussy, and he brings his fingers to your entrance, toying with you. His thumb brushes by your clit and you nearly choke, jolting a little at the sensitivity you’re still feeling.

“Don’t play with me-” you whimper.

Haechan laughs. “For a second, it sounded like you were giving your alpha a command,” he presses his thumb to your clit harder, “you weren’t doing that, were you, baby?”

“No-” you gasp, squirming against the bed again, grasping at the sheets.

Two of his fingers slip into your aching hole and the shock of the coolness of his skin makes your toes curl.

“You’re mine, right?”

“Yes, alpha,” you whimper, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of his digits exploring you, working you open-

“Gonna let me do whatever I need to do to help you cum, yeah?”

You let out a sound of affirmation.

“Gonna need to hear a ‘yes, alpha’ or I won’t help you cum,” he tells you, sinking his fingers into you even harder-

“Yes, alpha-” you correct yourself, “help me cum- please, I need it so bad-”

“Already?” he leans forward, letting his lips brush by your sensitive clit. “Didn’t I just make you cum?”

“‘S not enough-” you whine, already feeling another orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

You’ve had intense heats before, but nothing has ever felt like this. You’re practically dripping onto Hyuck’s hand and you know it-

In fact, you can hear how wet you are with each pump of your mate’s fingers, which he expertly uses to stoke your sweet spot-

“Alpha-” you moan, holding the sheets tighter.

“Come on, needy baby,” he says, thumb finding your clit, “cum for me- I know you want to, your pussy’s gripping me so fucking tight- cum on my fingers, do it, cum for me.”

You’re thankful you’re in the heat cabin and there’s - hopefully - no one around, because the scream you release as your orgasm tears through you is almost embarrassing. You claw at the bed, hips lifting-

Hyuck’s free hand finds your abdomen, and he forces you back down, continuing his assault on your pussy and leaving you no room to escape.

“That’s it baby-” he groans, “Just. Like. That.”

“Alpha- please-” you whimper, feeling tears in your eyes again from how overwhelmed your body is-

“Your ‘please’ means nothing anymore baby,” your mate tells you, “first it was ‘please make me cum’ now it’s ‘please let up,’ you’re too messy to make up your mind princess, that’s why you need a big alpha to do it for you.”

His fingers begin to slow inside of you, and you’re able to take a breath-

Which is when you smell something sweet, and it’s not the discarded popsicle stick.

You find yourself licking your lips, taking in deep breaths-

“Something smells-” the saltiness of it hits your nose and you realize what it is that you’re identifying-

The same way you’re slicked from your heat, alphas give off a specific scent when they’re in their ruts.

What you’re smelling is definitely Hyuck, a musky spiciness twinged with pine- and today, the tree notes remind you of sap; syrupy, sticky, sweet sap-

“Look at you, licking your fucking lips-” your mate growls, removing his fingers from your core and bringing them to his mouth to clean. He releases a groan of ecstasy before asking, “Am I the only one who’s gonna get a taste today? Or should I let you suck your alpha’s cock like you devoured that fucking popsicle?”

“Please-”

“Say it,” he tells you. “Say you want to suck my cock.”

You moan, writhing in the sheets, and you truly mean it when you whimper the words “I wanna suck your cock.”

“Yeah you fucking do,” Haechan groans, standing up from where he’d been kneeling at the foot of the bed.

His hands go to his belt, and you sit up, ready to get into any position he wants you in to suck him off-

You discard your bra-

“I’m not done with you yet, baby, still wanna enjoy you- think I’m gonna lie down and have you ride my face while you take my cock deep into that fucking throat of yours-”

“Please-” you whimper, shuffling forward to see if there’s any way to help him undress-

But your alpha is two steps ahead of you, pushing his pants down and tearing off his shirt.

You’re only able to appreciate his beautiful body for a moment before he’s moving to lie on the bed, his hands grabbing at you to help you into position.

“Sorry about these,” Hyuck tells you as he lets you settle with your core over his face, his fingers hooking in the sleeping shorts that he tears in two and throws to the side.

“No you’re not,” you whisper, grasping the base of his cock-

“No, I’m not,” the alpha laughs, both hands grasping your ass and forcing your core down on his mouth.

His tongue isn’t cold like it was when he’d prepped it with the popsicle, no, it’s warm, and long, an invading appendage that has your toes curling as well as his fingers had.

You try to focus on the cock that you have your own lips wrapped around, and as you force yourself down on him, his tip hitting the back of your throat, you remember that he’d promised not to take his dick out at all.

You realize, again, how much trouble you’re in.

You’d not intended on letting him into the heat cabin, not intended on letting him get his cock out, and yet here you are, grinding your pussy down against his face while he buries his length in your mouth-

The alpha under you pushes his hips up, and his cock makes you choke-

It’s shockingly enjoyable, and you lift yourself off of him just long enough to take a breath, marveling in how messy you’re being-

Tendrils of spit connect you to the cock that you go back to sucking like he’s your favorite popsicle-

And in all honestly, right now, he is.

It feels almost as if you and Hyuck are in a pleasure war, his tongue working better than ever against your pussy, hands on your ass, keeping you where he wants you- and you’re determined to suck the soul out of your alpha, until all that’s left is the man you’d fallen in love with.

You’re shocked by the sudden swat to your ass, and you mewl longingly around him, enjoying the tingles his hand leaves in its wake.

“Slow down-” Hyuck growls against your pussy.

You pull yourself off of him to respond, hand continuing to pump his length expertly. “Want alpha to cum,” you whine.

“I’m not cumming in your mouth,” he tells you, delivering another rough smack to your ass.

“Then where-”

“You know where.” He buries his face in your pussy again, and you can’t help the rush of wetness that gushes out of you at his words.

You do know where.

Part of you had known he’d be fucking you, properly, when you let him in the cabin.

There was only one way this was ever going to go- and it’s Hyuck’s.

“Never said to stop sucking,” another smack to your ass, “just slow down. Gonna make you cum one more time like this, then- we can try just the tip.”

So he’s gonna lie to himself and you?

Part of you wants to laugh at the idea, and you feel Haechan let out a small chuckle of his own as his lips wrap around your clit.

He’s such an ass.

You’re hopelessly in love with him.

Your third orgasm since Haechan arrived is beginning to form, you can feel it tingling through your limbs with each lick and prod of your lover’s tongue.

Your mouth returns to his cock, but you make a conscious effort to slow down, to focus on your own pleasure instead of his-

The sounds Hyuck releases as he fucks his tongue into you is enough to satisfy an inkling of your praise kink, and you wiggle your hips, looking for more stimulation-

Two hands grab your ass, holding you exactly where he wants you as your alpha mate lifts his head up, burying his tongue in you as deep as he can go-

You pull off his cock to moan his name, your voice sounding so whiney and desperate that you’re almost taken aback by the fact it came from you.

A smack to your ass is as good as a command to cum, and you nearly faceplant against Hyuck’s thigh, whimpering and moaning while your orgasm overtakes you.

There’s nothing to do but accept what Hyuck is doing- no ability to pull or move away- and the greedy wolf in you doesn’t want to. You take everything he gives, surrendering yourself to the pleasure he’s providing until you feel its electric heat throughout your entire form.

Your mate pulls away from your pussy when you begin to twitch, and in a second, you’re thrown onto your back.

You feel the bed dip as Haechan sits up, but you’re too far gone to care, eyes closed, chest heaving-

You hear him walk a few feet, hear a bag and then something tearing-

A hand wraps around your ankle, and you’re spun so you’re propped against the pillows, eyes opening to watch your alpha find his spot between your legs.

“You know how I said we could try just the tip?” he asks, rolling a knot condom onto his cock- which looks to be just aching- He lines himself up with your entrance, leaning down to kiss your nose, “I lied.”

His cock sinks into your core, and you both release groans of pleasure-

“Wish you’d let me-” he grunts as he begins to fuck you, “let me breed you- but you want to be safe, we can be safe.”

You’ve had this talk before, and you don’t have energy to rehash it.

You also realize you don’t care as much as you have previous to this-

Hyuck could get you knocked up here and now and you’d thank him for it.

“Are you gonna-” you swallow thickly, lacing your hands around the back of Haechan’s neck. “Are you gonna knot me?”

His eyes flare crimson, and your alpha mate releases a growl, pressing his forehead to your own. “Yeah. Does that scare you?”

There’d been a time when it had. But not anymore, and you shake your head. “No, alpha.”

“No?” he fucks you harder, hot breath fanning over your face. “Gonna take my knot like the good, greedy, needy little baby you are?”

“Yes-”

“Trust me, you’ve never felt anything like this,” Hyuck tells you, and you know he’s right.

Everyone knows about knotting, but, because you’ve never let your mate fuck you during your heat and his rut, you’ve never gotten to experience it for yourself.

Today is as good a day as any to pop your knot cherry, and you’re thankful Hyuck’s worked you out, gotten you prepped.

You’re practically a sopping mess for the alpha that decimates your pussy, your muscles tired from three orgasms-

You’re ready to take everything he has to give you, ready to wrap your arms around him, ignoring your increasingly hot skin- ready to have him stretch you out like you’ve never been stretched before-

“Fuck baby,” your alpha groans, hot lips finding yours, “you’re squeezing me so fucking tight-”

“Want you to cum,” you tell him, nearly in tears from how much you want it-

“Yeah?”

“Want you to knot me and make me yours forever-”

“Aren’t you already mine?” your mate moves his lips to your neck, teeth dragging against your pulse point, intent on scenting you more than he already has.

“Yes, alpha-” you tangle your fingers in his hair, back arching, “please, I’m so close-”

“You know that-” he swallows thickly, rutting into you harder, “that when I cum- when I knot you- I’m gonna be stuck inside you for a little while, right?”

“Yes- please, I want it-”

“You want it?”

“Yes-”

“How bad?”

“So bad-” you whimper, “Alpha please-”

“Keep saying please,” he prompts, fucking you so hard that the bed is hitting the wall with each thrust.

“Please, please, please, please, please!” your fingers claw at his back, and you’re completely lost in the sensation of being filled so perfectly-

“Fuck, fuck-” Hyuck releases a groan, burying his face against your neck while his thrusts become erratic-

You feel something at your entrance, the base of Hyuck’s cock swelling, pushing and stretching your hole-

“Alpha!” you’re sure you’ve drawn blood on his back now, and you clutch him like a lifeline while his knot splits you open, anchoring his cock deep into your pussy while you’re both wracked with orgasmic shudders of pleasure-

“Just like that-” he groans loudly. “Take it, take it, take it-”

He smashes his lips against your own, taking your breath away and muffling the sounds of pleasure that have been leaving you-

You find yourself getting lost in the kiss, tightening your legs around his waist, reveling in the feeling of being completely flooded with the best pleasure you’ve ever had.

Your body is practically thrumming with warm, wonderful energy, and you realize: this is what heat is all about.

It’s about being filled, so completely, so perfectly, that you lose all sense, that you’re truly one with the feral nature that is always bubbling inside of you.

To be in this moment, with your mate- nothing in the entire world will ever compare.

“Fuck-” Hyuck groans, breaking the kiss to return his lips to your neck, where he continues to lap and lick at the mark he’s been working on, “Feels so good-”

“So good,” you echo, eyes closed, head resting against the pillows.

Your lover releases a deep breath, slumping more weight onto your body, pushing you into the bed. It feels wonderful to be cocooned by him, even though the heat between your bodies is bordering on overwhelming.

“I could stay like this forever,” he says softly.

You realize - as you hold him tighter - that, you couldn’t agree more.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I was missing the a/b/o au, and i figured temperature play, hyuck and heat would all go very nicely together lol, if you liked this fic, check out my other a/b/o fics here :)

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. Now that you know how good it feels to have Hyuck fuck you through the worst of your heat, it almost feels like a sin not to let him blow your back out. After all, you were both truly made for this.

cw/ tw.oral (f receiving), shower sex, dirty talk, praise, temperature play, protected sex, a/b/o knotting, multiple orgasms, nipple play, slight pain kink, slight orgasm denial, overstim, etc...

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.1k I teaser wc. 160

🌙 staring. haechan x afab!Reader

bonus teaser :)

“I really didn’t realize he was serious about this,” Jaehyun sighs for the third time since he and Mark were tasked with driving into the city for heat provisions.

“Me neither,” Mark matches the alpha’s defeated tone. “But at least he’s being safe right?”

The bag of knot condoms is held tightly in his hands, resting on his lap. He’s never been more uncomfortable to be an errand boy.

“What happened to his mate’s whole thing about knot condoms breaking?” Jaehyun asks, taking the turn off the highway that will lead them back to the compound they live at with their pack. “Johnny and Yuta-”

“Maybe he convinced her Johnny and Yuta are stupid and he knows how to use condoms… better?” Mark suggests, earning a deep laugh from the alpha in the driver's seat.

“Right-” Jaehyun laughs, “because an alpha like Hyuck is a master of condoms during his rut.”

Mark decides to pray to God for your uterus.

☀️to read the full 2.1k bonus, subscribe to my Patreon - then - click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, here's my m.list

general taglist:

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee

@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy

@mocha000 - @darthlunaa - @just-here-to-read-01

nct taglist

@milkyway-vxm - @nctsawrus - @shiningdery - @freezerandfame

@fairieblog - @fairybr3ad - @peachyjaemin - @chemaistry

@sehunniepot

and thanks to everyone who interacted with the teaser :)

@idkwhatursayinh - @jujusimsstuff - @carelessshootanonymous

@sleepinghyuck09 - @milkyway-vxm. - @d0nghyck - @gyulfriend

@goquokka - @thebubsz - @kosmoreads - @dejavernon

due to tumblr restricting the number of people i can tag, i'll be reblogging with a few more tags of people who interacted with the teaser :)

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jennifer-jeong · 2 months

Note

Reader plays LDS game and little does she know that the boys can feel her emotions whenever she plays it or whenever she gets the card or memories of her fav boy for example-Zayne and the other two gets jealous idk and how they wish to be real and be with her.......

HELLO I'M SORRY THIS TOOK ME A HOT SECOND I was stressing and thinking about how to approach this but I think I got it now >:) (also school and life is kicking my ass but we don't talk about that)

[Fluff] [Love and Deepspace x Reader] "Virtual" Boyfriend

Rafayel sneak peak LMAOOO^

CONTENT Fluff, slight angst, gender neutral reader, Rafayel crack, mentions of the boys trauma, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

What I’m thinking is that the boys are conscious within the world of your phone. They can feel you and hear you but they can’t quite see you. You’re almost invisible in a way but they can feel your energy when you’re present. They feel it when you poke them in destiny cafe or touch them in the kindled memories. They hear your voice when you speak in game. They’ve lived the lives outlined for them in their lore and you’re who they’ve been searching for. They’re restricted in what they can say to you when you interact, it's some weird force they don’t understand. They know when you’re online but the same weird force prevents them from finding you, you have to go to them. (Zayne lives both lives of doctor and dawnbreaker, which he is happy about. He would’ve passed away if he had to be the one of two Zaynes to be dawnbreaker)

XAVIER hates that whoever made this world made him suffer for like a century only to have him find you and you aren’t even actually there. But he still loves feeling you there everyday, even if he's not the one that got chosen to sit in destiny cafe. Whenever you listen to his audios or interact with him through cards, destiny cafe, or playtime, his hands are shaky. It’s the only thing that he actually gets to express to you of his own free will. They shake because he’s so nervous but excited to finally be with you. He’s a patient man, he’s willing to wait for you everyday, he just wishes he could be where you actually are ): . He’s a smart man with an excess of free time, he’ll figure out how to get to you, someday.

ZAYNE has spent his whole life in this world in love with you. But now that he’s got you, and he can’t even see you, he’s started to accept that you’re just always going to be out of his reach. He loves when you do visit though, it makes him feel so warm. When you interact with him, he wants so badly to just be able to freely speak to you and tell you how much he loves you. His character is pretty cold because that is his personality, but when he sees you, he desperately wants to stop being distant with you, he wants to tell you all the soft and warm things he has to say. He wants to be where you actually are, he’s sick of basically just being Dawnbreaker Zayne where he just dreams of you and never gets to see you. He’s solved so many mysteries in the medical and wanderer hunting world though, he’s probably genius enough to figure this one out too.

RAFAYEL has been looking for you this whole time and is so frustrated that he found you and can’t even freely speak to you. Rafayel often ends up in glitches in the game because he desperately wants to break out of his confines and just talk to you. Every time you interact, he’s trying to find some way to tell you he loves you and that he’ll always be here no matter what. He gets pretty jealous when he doesn’t get to sit in destiny cafe with you, he doesn’t know who exactly sits in his place but he wants to be the only one you have eyes for, the only one that you touch, even if it’s not quite “touching.” He’s already lost everything he has except for you. He’s willing to do anything to get to you, he just hasn’t figured out how to do it, yet.

Rafayel glitch collection:

+ THIS video LMAOO

Personal follow up hc that they can interact with you when you daydream of them!!! It’s the only way they can reach you and feel you properly. Pretend they eventually figure this out and you live happily ever after !!! (cope)

Photo credits from twitter! https://x.com/nonbiriotome/status/1754530273033683337?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4ghttps://x.com/miyabi_lad/status/1754318127339639244?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4ghttps://x.com/zaynerei/status/1760258500746445149?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4ghttps://x.com/xaviersdaily/status/1759516449758908615?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4ghttps://x.com/yubeljin/status/1752770210124210303?s=46&t=Y5PdanktIFDztaAr8_sv4g

Thank you for the ask and for reading!

|| MASTERLIST <3 ||

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace crack #xavier x reader #xavier fluff #xavier crack #zayne x reader #zayne fluff #zayne crack #rafayel x reader #rafayel fluff #rafayel crack #my asks <3 #j's silly ramblings

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cxrsed-angel · 1 year

Text

girls night out | joel miller x fem!reader

word count 1k

summary: joel takes care of you after your first girls night out

warnings: mentions of sex but isn’t actually, drinking, age gap, (joel is in his late 50s, reader is in her 20s), mentions of puking

gif credits: @/ pedrohub

“Joel I think your girl had a few drinks too many,” Tommy laughs taking a sip of his drink before walking away. joel says silent prayer hoping you werent making too much of a fool of yourself.

He knew you had a hard time adjusting to jackson, used to surviving not living, when you told him about a group of girls your age inviting you out to go drinking with them be encouraged it, and tagged along since you were nervous, he expected you to makes some new friends but he didn’t expect those friends to get you drunk of your ass.

He sighs and sets his drink down, and turns around to see you on top of one of the tipsy bison’s tables, dancing with one of the girls, grinding your hips against hers, the short dress one of the girls gave you, riding up your thigh as you moved your hips, his jaw clenching when hears a few of the younger guys that were watching whistle at you.

“For fucks sake.” he mutters as he approaches the table.

“Hi ladies, hey sweetheart I think its time to go.” he holds his hands out to you, but you stay on the table, refusing.

“Noo Im having fun, I haven't had fun in forever and Im making friends look.” you gesture to the girls, and they wave as your words slurred. continuing dancing on the top. Joel lets outs a tired sigh, hoping you don't fall off and hurt yourself.

“Can you refill it please.” you beg, pouting and giving him your best puppy dog eyes handing him your empty glass. he’s about to refuse when Tommy comes over, he pats Joel’s shoulder.

“That’s what happens when you’re dating a younger girl huh she has to much energy for you.” he jokes as he watches you still dancing and taking a sip of your friend's drink.

“ Fuck off, Tommy. C’mon you've had enough darling can you please get down.” he asks again but you refuse again moving away from him as he tried to gently pull you down you lose your balance in the hells you had spent all week learning how to walk in, a foot slips off the table, luckily Joel catches you before you could hit the hardwood.

“You okay?” he asks but you're not paying attention. You're focusing on Joel's brown eyes and how they shine in fairy lights strung long the wall. You silently admire him for a few minutes. Not realizing he was speaking to you. “You with me sweetheart?”

“Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are” you sloppily run your hand up his chest clumsily, trying to be sexy.

Joel lets out a small chuckle at the state you were in. “Yes baby you have, come on let’s get you home ” he lightly grabs your arm helping you with your footing, one of the girls, just as drunk as you if not more comes up to you.

“This is joel? you’re right he is hot, you’re so lucky.” you smile and slip out of Joel’s hand taking the opportunity to gush about him more.

“I know he’s so hot, you should hear him when he’s pissed. His southern accent gets stronger it’s so sexy, it makes me so we—“Joel cuts you off before you could finish your sentence, blushing a bit.

“Okay! baby it’s time to go.” you wave to your new friends as joel leads you to the front. He finally thinks he managed to get you out of there one of the younger guys watching you dance blocks the door

“Hey you looked good dancing up there what’s your name.” Joel’s grip on you tightens, he’s about to tell him to fuck off, but you beat him to it

“Ew, no i have a boyfriend” he looks at Joel hand on your waist and scoffs.

“Who? not this old fuck, come on I bet the old man can’t even get it up anymore don’t you wanna someone who could go all night doll .” before you could come up with a response Joel fist collides into his nose, you could tell its bad when it starts bleeding, probably breaking his nose.

You hear gasps from everyone in the bar; but before anyone can do anything, Joel is already leading you out the door walking you home.

After many stumbles and you puke up all the alcohol in your system. Joel finally makes it home into your shared room. He sits on the bed next to you and rubs your back, as you lay down on the bed staring at him.

“Joel youre so hot”

He lets out a laugh “you’ve said before baby” he tries to get up from the bed, but you hold onto his hand, making him stay next to you

“No don’t leave please” you start tearing up at the thought of him not being next to you.

Joel frowns not understanding why you were crying “I’m not going anywhere just gonna get you a change of clothes and some food, maybe a bucket or something.” he tries to explain, but you cling onto him, crying a bit harder.

“No Joel please don’t leave me.” Joel’s caught off guard by your bawling and sits back on the bed.

“Okay Im not going anywhere Im right here just go to sleep baby.” he lays next to you but sees you still sniffing and crying.

“Sweetheart why are you crying,” he asks, full of concern, worried someone did something or hurt you. his worries only grow when you shake your head and refuse to tell him. “C’mon baby it’s okay you can tell me.”

You take a deep breath wiping your tears and face him “They’re gonna kick me out.” You cry out, Joel’s face frowning confused

“Who baby?”

“They! Everyone. Jackson, Maria. I fucking don’t know who does it specifically! ” Joel looks at you, trying to piece together what you’re saying.

“Why would they kick you out?.”

You stop cry a little and sit up, “This morning at breakfast I put my dirty plate in the wrong place I put it with the bowls Joel, the bowls! I was gonna fix it but then the girls started talking to me and lead me out talking about girls night out and what time to meet and I didn’t get chance to go back.” Joel stared at you with wide eyes at your babbled confession, he tried to hold in his laughter not wanting to upset you more.

“Baby they ain’t gonna kick you out because of that okay I promise.” you look at him sniffling,

“Really?” Joel nodded reassuring you

“Yea it was just an accident, sweet girl it didn’t hurt anybody, I doubt they even noticed.”

You stop crying and lay down cuddling against him, “ok, but if they kick me you out I’m telling you I told you so.” Joel smiles laughing a little as you closed your eyes slowly falling asleep.

Joel relaxes as you calm down. He thinks about it and realizes he’s never seen you drunk, he’s seen you drink here and there but never enough to let your guard know, not like this. It makes me happy that he had found a place for you and Ellie, that was safe, and you could relax, He knew that the both of you had been through so much and were forced to grow up fast. It was times like this when he remembers just how young you were, still in your twenties.

He rubs your head on his shoulder, lying down; he thinks about how he would take care of you every day if it gave you a chance to have a somewhat normal young adulthood. He closes his eyes to sleep, and it’s quiet for a few minutes until he heard your voice again.

“Joel. I think I need to throw up.” Joel laughs a little before sitting up to help you.

₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

Bonus: Joel woke up early to go to the dining hall hoping to grab some of your favorite breakfast foods, he was placing the food in a to go container when he hears a group of whispering behind him.

“god he’s so hot,” he turns around and sees the group of girls you were with last night; he sees them looking fresh and awake and wonders how they weren’t hungover. he turns back and continues getting your food but they continue whispering.

“aww he’s getting her hangover food, I wish I had a sexy older man taking care of me.”

Joel shakes his head but continued ignoring them, moving over to get some coffee.

“I know I bet he fucks her so good.” Joel eyes widen at the comment and spills the hot coffee on the table and a little on his hand, cursing under his breath. he starts cleaning up when Tommy walks over, making joel jump slightly as he playfully slaps his shoulder.

“Jesus Joel why are you so jumpy just came to check on your girl.” Joel relaxes and continues filling up the coffee cups.

“It's - Im fine, she’s fine I actually need to go check on her now.” he answers quickly, trying to leave the dining hall before he hears anymore of their conversations but not fast enough.

“No, he’s definitely the #1 DILF here. Do you see him?”

“We don’t even know if he has kids. ”

“He doesn’t have to have kids to be a daddy.”

Tommy and Joel overhear their conversation as the girls walk by, Joel feels his face starts getting red, wondering how much you told them last night.

“Were-are they talking about you?” Tommy asks but Joel just shakes his head and heads towards the door.

“I gotta check on her, know she’s gonna a bad hangover. I'll see you later Tommy” he says as he leaves out the door, hoping to forget that whole situation ever happened.

#angel writes #joel <3 #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #joel miller #tlou x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic

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alloftheimagines · 1 year

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roy kent | just friends

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | KO-FI

words: 3k

warnings: strong language because it's roy fucking kent, mentions of alcohol but not intoxication, bad date experiences with rude and not nice people, including comments on reader's body.

single parent!reader (they/them, bi/pan) x uncle roy in which he is your best friend and go-to babysitter when you have an awful date that ends early. protectiveness, hurt/comfort, and a heated confession ensues.

prompt: Roy Kent x Reader, Friends to lovers?

You’ve never been more relieved to be home, even as the sound of screaming children drifts from your house. You press your forehead against the cool door, taking in a deep breath. “Past their bedtime. Again,” you mutter, but your best friend allowing your daughter to have a late night with his niece, Phoebe, is the least of your worries after what you just experienced.

Horror. Pure horror.

“Oi!” you hear the deep, gritty voice of Roy Kent echoing down your hallway. “Come back ‘ere and do my other hand! Can’t be walking around with only one set of fucking nails painted!”

Giggles follow, and you smile despite yourself. They give you the energy to open the door finally, and you step in to find your hallway lit brightly, Phoebe flying out of the kitchen with chocolate smeared across her face and bright blue nail polish in her hand.

“Don’t be getting that on my carpet!” you warn, alerting everyone to your presence.

Your daughter, Maisie, skips out next, waving. “We’re painting Uncle Roy’s nails!”

“Lucky Roy!” She’d been calling him “uncle” for the past year, though neither of you is related to the footballer-turned-manager. Maisie picked it up from Phoebe, and Roy hadn’t seemed to mind, since you’re practically best friends anyway. You’re constantly trying to tire the kids out with play dates at one another’s house, or else exchanging babysitting duties so one of you can have a free night. Of course, Roy isn’t a single parent like you, but he watches Phoebe enough that you’ve formed a bond over the years, one that stemmed from your shared love of your chaotic children.

That bond has blossomed into something much more than you bargained for, though. After all, he is Roy fucking Kent, and his rough exterior matched with his hidden, softer side was always going to be your downfall. But since he’s been in and out of relationships and never made a move, you’ve let the small crush lie, trying to distract yourself with dates.

Terrible, terrible dates.

Like the one you had tonight.

“You’re back early.” Roy emerges last, leaning against the doorframe as he blows on his wet-varnished nails. “It wasn’t the one who speaks like someone’s pressed fast-forward on the TV remote again, was it? I told you they’re a loser.”

“No. No, it was someone far, far worse than Fast-forward Frank.” You sigh and try to ignore the flickering in your chest, because gruff footballer Roy Kent is currently being pampered by two ten-year-olds and seems to be enjoying every minute.

“Fuck,” he deadpans. “I’ll grab the wine.” He wanders back into the kitchen.

You huff again, kicking your shoes off your aching feet and heading into the living room, where the girls are painting one another’s nails. It was at least nice to snuggle up on your couch and watch, legs curled under you. They’re arguing, of course, but you’re good at tuning that out most of the time.

“You look very nice, Y/N,” Phoebe compliments. “Are you dressed up for my Uncle Roy?”

“No.” Even so, your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but hope he noticed your appearance before you left earlier. In fact, you’d been wondering all through dinner why he’d pursed his lips, jaw ticking, as he’d looked you up and down with shiny, dark eyes. It hadn’t exactly been the look of a man who lusted after you. More the disapproving stare of a father about to tell his child to go and change. “I went on a date.”

“What’s a date?” Maisie asks.

“14th of April,” Phoebe answers confidently. You smirk, glad when they return to their own little world.

“Right girls,” Roy says as he comes in. “Go and play upstairs, now. We’re talking about adult stuff now.”

“And you should be in bed,” you remind, because you suppose that one of you has to be the responsible parent, and it certainly isn’t him.

The kids groan but trudge out of the room, leaving you in peace. Somehow, that’s even worse. You don’t really know why; you’ve had lots of awful dating experiences, but tonight, you’re just… exhausted. You don’t want to have to keep searching for something that most people find without a problem. You don’t want to meet new people who you don’t connect with, don’t even really like, just because the alternative is sitting at home with only a child for company, or sometimes Roy.

Roy places the wine on the coffee table and raises his brow. “Go on then. Tell me what was wrong with this one.”

“It’d be quicker to tell you what’s right. They started by telling me to put a blanket under me in their car so I wouldn’t scuff their leather seats. And then when I told them I had a kid, they looked me up and down and said ‘ah, yeah, I can tell. Have you looked into cosmetic surgery?’” You wrinkle your nose as Roy scoffs.

“You’re joking!”

“I wish I was joking.” You rest your head against the couch cushion, closing your tired eyes. “They tried to order a salad for me after that. I told them fuck off, I’m having the garlic bread. They didn’t like that.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Do you have their address?” Roy is already scrambling to get up, and you aren’t sure if he’s joking or not.

You roll your eyes and tug him back down. “Stop it.”

“I’m not fucking joking. Where does this wanker live?”

Okay, you realise. Not joking. His jaw is clenched, brows even more furrowed than usual. You’ve seen him angry before, but never… seething. It rolls off him until you yank him down a second time.

“I don’t need you to beat them up. I need you to drink wine and tell me I’ll find the right person one day.” You pout as you pick up your wine glass, only half-joking.

His nostrils flare, but he settles down. “You will find the right person,” he reassures. “People are just dicks. You deserve better than all that shit.”

“I wonder sometimes,” you admit. “Nobody wants a single parent. I’m a package deal, and… well, there’s a reason I’m still single after all this time.”

“Oi.” He nudges you, draping his arm around the back of your couch so you smell his aftershave. You turn into the warmth, the comfort, though there is so much space between you still. More than you’d like. In another life, he might have been the one you were looking for. In another life, you weren’t searching for a good, healthy, passionate love, because you’d found it long ago, in the schoolyard where you met.

But you’re in this life, you remind yourself, and you’re a far cry from the people Roy has dated before. It’s clear you’re just friends. You always will be.

You lift your brows, waiting for whatever lecture he’s about to give you.

His eyes pierce yours. “Don’t even bother going there. You and Maisie deserve the fucking world, and fuck anyone who isn’t going to give it to you.”

The words pierce your heart, and something damp and warm trickles from the corner of your eye. A tear, you realise too late.

Roy sighs, the rough pad of his thumb brushing it away. You’re not surprised by his gentle touch, though most people might be. You know him too well to think him anything other than tender-hearted and caring to his core.

“Don’t get fuckin’ upset over that prick. Please, sweetheart.”

“No. I’m not.” You sniff, feeling pathetic. “I’m just overwhelmed. Tired. That’s all.”

His touch drifts to your hair, brushing through the strands and tucking a few behind your ear as your eyes flutter shut again. You could stay like this for a long time. For forever. He has no idea just how much you need him, how much better things feel when he’s around. It would just make sense, you and him — if you took away his fame, at least. You love one another’s kids. You’d become family over the years. You trust him with every fibre of your being as the one steadfast person you can count on.

“Y’know, you’re the person I’d call in the middle of the night if I needed to bury a body. Or if I thought there was a ghost in my house or something,” you admit.

His face crumples. “Ey?”

“Just…” You lean into him, burying your cheek against his chest. “You’re the only person who hasn’t let me down or left me.”

His movements are stiff as he wraps his arms around you, but he melts into you quickly, holding you to him until you’re not sure where you end and he begins. You hear his heart echoing in your ear. Feel the prickly bristle of his beard against your skin. It’s the safest you ever get to feel, and it’s rare you allow yourself to be so vulnerable. But tonight, you can’t find a reason to keep pretending.

“I never would,” he whispers. “If it was me, if you gave me a chance at a family like yours… I wouldn’t fucking waste it. They’re idiots, all of them. You and Maisie are precious. You deserve the best. Don’t stop until you find it.”

You pull away, pulse racing. It’s never felt right to address your feelings before, and perhaps tomorrow you’ll regret it. Maybe you’ll lose him, even, but you believe him when he says he isn’t going anywhere, and you have to know…

“What if I already have?”

His frown lasts for minutes, hours, as he looks down at you. And then you see it dawn on him, and you don’t want to hear how this story ends. You don’t want to be rejected twice in one night. You stumble up. “Forget I said that. I had a couple of drinks at the restaurant, and I’m all… loopy. I’m going to get some snacks. Are you hungry?” The drinks were non-alcoholic, but he doesn't need to know that.

“No,” Roy says.

It’s all he gives you. The message has been delivered loud and clear. He doesn’t want you. Tears sting your eyes as you leave the living room, heading into the kitchen. You catch your reflection in the window and almost break down entirely. You’re an idiot, and you’ve gone and embarrassed yourself in front of the one person you can be yourself around.

You grab a tissue, drying your tears, but fresh ones fall all the same.

And then your back prickles and you know he’s followed you.

“Oi,” he breathes gently, tilting your chin up as he reaches you. “What are you getting upset for?”

“I’m not,” you lie pathetically, looking anywhere but at him. “You can head off if you want. I can watch the girls tonight and drop Phoebe off—”

“Can we just rewind a minute? Do you… Do you think that you and me…?”

“No! God, no. No. No, no, no.”

“Oh.” He nods, leaning back on his heels. "So no then?"

“No!”

“All right, I fucking get it.” He lifts his hands as though they might wipe it all away. “I just thought that’s what you were saying before, on the couch. I thought…”

“You should stop thinking, Roy.” You offer him a flustered smile, your face burning. “Honestly, let’s just forget about it.”

“Right. Fine.” More silence. And then: “What if I don’t want to?”

“Don’t want to what?”

He shrugs. “Forget about it. What if… we’ve both already found the right people?”

Your body is electricity now, and you can barely breathe. “What… do you mean?”

He scratches his stubble, lowering his gaze. “Well, I could take you on a date. I’d be much better at it than the losers you’ve been seeing.”

You’re caught off-guard, hands trembling, “Is that what you’d like?”

“Well, I did. I mean, I’ve wanted to. I just… you’ve already said no. Several times. So I suppose I got my answer, and that’s that.”

“Well, I didn’t think you saw me that way. You’ve never asked before. Is this, like, a pity thing?”

“Fuck no!” he blurts too quickly. “I mean, no. 'Course not. And you’ve never mentioned it before either, by the way. You’re always going on all these fucking dates. When was I supposed to ask? Between Fast-forward Frank and that fucking woman obsessed with her pet ferret?”

You blink, puzzled. “I mean… if you asked, I wouldn’t have gone on dates with Ferret Fiona.”

He throws his hands up in the air. “Now she fucking tells me.”

You don’t like the implication that you’ve been the one holding him back. “Well, it’s not like you’ve ever tried, is it? I mean, I’ve been single for years and you’ve never made a move, even before all this online dating palaver! And you’re not exactly easy to read, by the way. You’re always frowning, even when I’m trying to bloody well impress you! What was I supposed to think? That you fancy me when you always look like this?” You moulded your expression into a big, dramatic, brooding glower and hope it encapsulates everything that is Roy.

He crosses his arms over his chest, looking angry now. Proving your point. “Oi! I don’t do that with my lips,” he points out. “And you’re always talking about how badly you want to find someone when I’m sitting right fucking here! That’s mixed signals, mate.”

“It was me hinting! Hoping!” you shout. “I was just waiting for a sign, or something, but you never treated me like anything more than a friend!”

“Because I didn’t want to be like that creepy Allen bloke you dated last year! He was your friend too, if I recall!”

You sigh, realising the conversation is going in circles. You look at him. He looks at you. Both of you are breathless, wild-eyed, rosy-cheeked, and you know you’ll always remember the way he looks, standing in your kitchen, infuriated and perhaps more open than ever before, because you see it now; that dark look in his eyes was never a guard, never a sign of being just friends. It was want, need.

It was everything you already feel.

“Why are you two arguing?” a meek voice interrupts. You both look to the door to find the girls hovering in the hallway.

“We’re not arguing,” you assure quickly.

“It’s adult stuff,” says Roy at the same time.

“We don’t like it when you argue,” Maisie says. “Especially when you’re supposed to get married.”

“What?” you question sharply, turning red all over again.

Phoebe nods as though corroborating Maisie’s story. “We’ve planned it all. It will be next June at McDonald’s, and Uncle Roy will bring you flowers, and we’ll all have milkshakes afterwards.”

You put your head in your hands, peeking through your fingers and surprised to find that Roy is smirking. “Sounds like a shit wedding, Pheebs. Where’ve you got this idea from?” he says.

“Well, Mum said you two will end up together because you clearly fancy Y/N and it is invevitable.”

A laugh bubbles in your own throat at her attempt to say inevitable, though you’re still too stunned to speak.

“See?” Roy whispers. “Everyone else knew. It's fucking invevitable.”

You shiver, lowering your hands to meet his gaze properly. It’s soft and intent, nothing like the anger of a moment ago.

“All right, girls,” you say. “Get your pyjamas on. We’ll be up to say nanight in a minute.”

You usher them away, closing the door to when you hear their footsteps on the stairs. You’ve never been more aware of his presence, the fact it’s just the two of you — you don’t even know who you are without the kids jumping about, sticking their noses in.

“Have I fucked it all up?” he asks finally.

“No. Have I?”

He shakes his head.

“Then what now?” you question. “What does this… mean?”

“Well…” He leans against the counter, fidgety as he smiles again. “I’ll take you on a decent fucking date for starters. No kids, and no more of whatever the fuck this argument was.”

The thought leaves you feeling cracked and seeping with excitement, though you try to play it cool. “Okay. That’s a good plan.”

“Right. Good. Then… are you free Friday night?”

You inch closer to him, timid suddenly. “I don’t know. My usual babysitter is busy.”

He rolls his eyes and tugs you toward him so that your torsos collide, and then his fingers curl around the nape of your neck and you can think of nothing but the way his lips look, and what it must feel like, having them between your thighs, beard grazing your skin.

“You’re an idiot,” he rasps.

“Takes one to know one.” You lick your lips, then his mouth his on yours, rough and ready and desperate. You let him in, let his tongue explore your mouth. You know you shouldn’t. The girls might come back in, might already be listening, but you’ve wanted this for so long.

You both have.

You’re breathless when he stops, his hands lingering just above your belly as he bites down on a groan. “If I don’t stop now, there’ll be trouble.”

You’re not willing to let go, though, and you rest your hands on his chest as you kiss his jaw. “And?”

“And I’ve waited a long fucking time to do this properly. Give you the care,” he kisses your nose, “you deserve. Sweep you,” another kiss, this time at the outer corner of your eye, “off your fucking feet. So I’m going to.” He steps away. “Friday. Seven. Find a new babysitter, and make sure they’re free all night.”

With that, he steps away, leaving you wanting more.

“Uncle Royyyyy!” Phoebe is calling. “Will you read us a story?”

He grins, kisses your forehead, and then is gone. You’re not sure your knees will hold you up if you follow, but you listen to him talking to the girls, making them laugh, and you have never felt more right, more complete.

You’re a fool for thinking anyone else could be perfect for you when the man you love has been here all along.

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charliemwrites · 6 months

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Hello, hello! Per ceilidh's request - a Soap x Reader ficlet from the prompt thingy.

#11 "You tricked me."

I was heavily inspired by that tiktok sound (iykyk)

Rating: M CW/TW: brief/vague torture, threat of SA (doesn't happen), manipulation, dark!Soap

Being a medium in the military isn’t that much different from being a medium anywhere else.

The rules are roughly the same. Don’t talk to ghosts in living company. Don’t join idiotic 2am summoning circles. Try to help the ones you can; try not to lose sleep over the ones you can’t.

Oddly, there aren’t as many ghosts on a base as any given suburban house. Depends on the base, of course, but a reassuring number of former-military souls continue to their final rest. Even if their bodies (or parts of it) don’t make it back, tags and a symbolic burial usually suffice.

The 141’s main base only has a handful. A few you’ve already gotten closure for, sent off into the beyond. The others you’re working on, or already know they’re a lost cause. Most of them are even friendly!

There’s a corporal that haunts the mess and laments mashed potatoes. A captain appears in Price’s office occasionally, his residual energy glaring down at reports and rustling at phantom papers. On the range, you sometimes speak to the ghost of a prostitute murdered by some piece of shite back in ye olde times. She doesn’t talk back – can’t with a crushed windpipe – but she smiles when you have the privacy to acknowledge her.

Your favorite, though, is Johnny. He’s a comparatively new spirit, by your estimate. Lots of energy, still coherent. You can’t tell how he died by looking at him, but that’s not unusual. It could have been internal bleeding, or a stroke despite his youth. He won’t tell you his last name despite all your asking, always just laughs.

“Yer no’ gettin’ rid o’ me tha easily!”

He always lays the Scottish accent on in a thick velvet blanket. You want to wrap yourself up in it.

Yes, the rules for being a medium are the same, even on a military base. The main one: don’t get haunted by feelings.

That was never a concern, never even a thought, until Johnny. Until you caught his eye around Price’s shoulder during your introductory tour. He followed you for hours, interjecting little asides that put your selective hearing to the test. Always orbited just close enough to send chills down your spine and goosebumps up your arm.

You confronted him when you’d finally been dismissed back to your barrack, whirling around as he popped his mohawked head through the door. Despite yourself, you made quick friends with him.

He’s an unusual ghost. Doesn’t seem tied to a particular place or thing on base. Isn’t trapped along the same paths he walked in life. He’s always solid or near solid, doesn’t waver at certain times of day. You’re utterly charmed by his unorthodoxy, by his miraculous non-existence. And by the fact that, while he knows your secret – as all spirits do – he seems more intrigued than solicitous.

It's not that you blame other ghosts – the coherent ones – for wanting help. It’s torturous to toe that line, not alive but not at peace. Stuck and dwindling little by little. You can’t imagine what it feels like, but you can sense from some that it’s frightening, and cold. No, you’re not bothered that they ask for help. Or with the ones that are just angry; they have every reason to be.

Johnny, though… he’s special. You don’t feel so alone with him, even if the room looks like it to an outsider.

“Oh, aye, that’s pure dead brilliant. You know they’re sending you to Russia?”

You flick Johnny a glance. He’s leaning over Price’s shoulder, peering at the briefing docket that’s actively being explained. You don’t mind the extra or early info. Saved your ass a couple times before.

Your lack of response ruffles his feathers though. He stalks through the table to Gaz, flicks his pen right off the surface. You snort softly as he curses under his breath and ducks to retrieve it, trying not to interrupt Price. You make eye contact with Johnny, blink and minutely shake your head. He can see the twitching at the corners of your mouth anyway.

He smirks and wades through solid objects back to you. His presence looms behind your shoulder, an uneasy flicker at the edge of your consciousness. Like this he seems bigger, inhuman beyond ghostliness. Rougher and darker in the corner of your vision. You’ve done a double-take and gotten teased for skittishness enough times by now to quell the urge to check. It’s always just Johnny.

You’re paired with your lieutenant, Ghost. He’ll be watching with his sniper while you’re on infil. Usually, you’re paired with Gaz, but he and Roach will be at the other end of the compound taking out a target.

When the team is dismissed, Ghost only pauses long enough to give you a nod before skulking off. Not unusual for him; you take no offense. Johnny, however, is scowling something fierce after him.

For whatever reason, he’s never been a fan of your LT. The one time you asked, the lights started flickering and Johnny dismissed the question with a sharp “just don’t like him.”

You suspect that it’s because Ghost was your mentor when you joined the 141. The two of you spent the majority of your time together, training you up to run with the rest of the squad. Due to his constant proximity, your ability to respond to Johnny was greatly hindered.

Still is with how observant Ghost is. Have almost blown your cover several times and had to really watch yourself, and your reactions. You think Johnny might resent him for that.

Back in your barrack, though, Johnny happily chatters while you gear up for the mission. Base gossip and bits of intel he shouldn’t know and shouldn’t tell you. It’s standard ritual for you two; he likes to talk, and you’re accustomed to listening. You hum in the right places, storing tidbits away for your own amusement later.

A playful tug to your bitch-strap makes you yelp, then laugh when you catch Johnny’s grin. He does it again, loosening one of the buckles on your thigh. You swat him uselessly, retightening it only for him to pluck at your bootlaces while you’re occupied. He’s got so much energy, for a ghost. So adept at interacting with the physical world.

“Quit it!” you giggle, trying to dodge his darting hands.

“Why should I?” he chuckles. You curse as he gets a finger in your harness and jerks, misaligning it with the rest of your gear.

“I’ll banish you,” you lie, wriggling various straps back into place.

“Oh, sweet girl, it would take a lot more than you’ve got to get rid of me now.”

It’s an odd turn of phrase for him, but it’s the tone that draws your gaze. There’s an unfamiliar, inky darkness in his voice that pools in the pit of your stomach. You frown, open your mouth to ask what he means. But just like that, his electric smile is back, eyebrows arching as he nods to your bedside clock.

“You’re gonna be late.”

“Shit!” You snatch up your backpack and fling it across your shoulders. “I’m gonna kill you, Johnny!”

“Can’t kill something that isn’t alive,” he cackles as you sweep out the door.

You make it the transport just short of reprimand, though that doesn’t stop Ghost from narrowing his eyes as you duck into your seat. Gaz has already started a lively conversation with Roach, and Price is staying back this time.

You miss Johnny already. He may not be trapped in any particular part of the base, but he can’t come with you on missions or leave. The spaces where he’s absent feel colder and quieter. Everything seems just a bit… off. A song missing an instrument, a rainbow lacking one color.

You’re not sure when that started happening, when Johnny became such a vital part of how you perceive the rest of the world. When did longing for him become a chronic illness?

“Focus up!” Ghost barks in your ear.

You blink, shake your head, and take stock bewildered. Gone is the transport and the rest of your team. It’s just you now, hidden behind a generator, presumably about to infiltrate the target.

How?

When you try to recall, you have vague recollections of exiting the transport. Hiking to the compound. Splitting off with a few parting words amongst the lot of you. It feels watery at the edges, more of a vivid dream than a waking memory.

“Yessir.” It jumps instinctively from your tongue while you flex your cold fingers, trying to coax the nerves back to life.

You take a deep breath – lungs aching like you’ve held your breath too long – and continue with the mission. There’s no room for error now, or idle daydreams of noncorporeal men with wicked smiles.

The building is only three stories and you’re not meant to clear it. Just get to the server room, collect the information, and slip away with minimal enemy contact.

Maybe that’s why you don’t realize that something is wrong at first. You’re supposed to be avoiding guards, so you don’t notice the lack of them. Things do go right, sometimes, the intel can be good.

But it’s the quiet the finally prickles at your awareness. You may be more attuned to the dead, but you have a sense for the living as well. Always made you the worst to play hide and seek with. Now, you can feel that this building is vacant, deprived of any souls.

“LT, something is wrong,” you whisper, frozen mid-step.

“What is it?” he asks.

“It’s too quiet.”

To his credit, he doesn’t dismiss you immediately. “How?”

“I think the building is empty. Have you seen anyone?”

“Negative.” A pause as he considers, maybe scans the other windows for signs of occupation. “Sit tight, I’ll update Price.”

There’s barely a heartbeat before you hear distant gunfire. Too much and too soon for the plan. Roach and Gaz weren’t supposed to neutralize the target until you were collecting intel.

“Fuck,” Ghost snarls. “Get out of there!”

You’re already sprinting for the stairwell. Nearly pop your ankles leaping down, boot treads catching on the edge of steps. No one is chasing you, but your team needs help. Gaz is shouting in your ear, the channels reconnected for ease of communication. The situation is devolving quickly and violently.

“Almost there,” you report.

Your foot hits the last landing before the ground floor when the building explodes.

---

It takes three tries to get your vision focused. There’s not much to see once you do. A concrete room tinted by bare yellow halogen. There’s a drain in the floor just in front of you and old blood dried in the corners. It smells like rust, infection, and despair. Your head pounds; your entire body aches. Being tied to a metal chair doesn’t help the post-explosion soreness.

You’ve been stripped down to your fatigues, no boots. There isn’t a door in any of the three walls you can see, so it must be positioned behind you.

Confirmation comes about a minute later. Three sets of boots entering your little box. Only one of them walks into your line of sight; a mean-looking man with face tattoos and a gold tooth. He asks if you speak Russian, and though you do, you spew a string of English profanities and threats at him. The backhand you get in return says he understood you.

The questions start as soon as he switches to English. They want information; they always do. What you had been sent to collect and why. Who Roach and Gaz were sent for and why. You don’t speak a word. Even when the pain starts, and then doesn’t stop. You lose track of time, the head injury floating you on the edge of consciousness within the first thirty minutes.

Hours – days? – later, the man takes a step back, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“It’s alright,” he tells you, “I like taking my time, and we have plenty. Your friends think you are dead.”

That, you think through the haze, is probably true. You thought you were dead too.

“Perhaps next time we try something… else,” he muses, running a finger down your neck. “You are not as pretty now, but… prettier than you will be later, da?”

Ice forms in the pit of your stomach and climbs up your spine. It was always on the table, you know that, but facing it is something else.

Whatever expression you’re making seems to satisfy him, because he laughs heartily and finally leaves you alone.

Alone, with the promise of his next visit looming.

You squeeze your eyes shut. There’s a dripping sound nearby that you realize, vaguely, is your own blood. Maybe you’ll bleed out before he comes back. You time your breaths with it, using it as a count to get your wild and unsteady heart under control.

Reality washes over you in waves. There is no escape. Your team thinks you’re dead. Eventually, you will break and/or die. You might even become a ghost, join the collective that darkens the edges of this very room, a thing of pain and fear and rage without any coherency or singular will.

You didn’t even give Johnny a proper goodbye.

That somehow hurts the worst. Johnny, hearing second-hand that you’ll never make it back. No one to mourn with him, to offer any comfort. He’ll be alone with grief and then beyond, no one to tell his jokes or stories to.

You miss him more fiercely than you ever have. Part of you is glad he isn’t here. You know him, know he’d be too stubborn to leave you. He’d stay and watch, helpless, as you were tortured and killed. It would tear you apart to do that to him even though it wouldn’t be your own choice.

But… an awful, selfish part of you longs for him. Even just being able to see or hear him would soften the pain and fear. Would make this hell on earth almost bearable. You want to leave this world with Johnny whispering in your ear, maybe even join him when your body finally goes cold.

Given the choice, you would want him here.

You want Johnny. No, you need him. Regret ever leaving him behind, even though he couldn’t come with you. You’d do anything to change that now; anything to be with him again.

Anything?

It’s an unbidden thought, almost intrusive. Doesn’t even feel like yourself asking.

“Anything,” you whisper aloud, just to hear something other than your own despair. “Johnny…”

“You called?”

You jolt, head snapping up so fast it makes you dizzy. The world spins but he’s there, right there, crouching in front of you, arms balanced on his knees.

“Johnny?” you whisper.

Were you closer to the brink than you thought? Is this some sort of final hallucination as you slip into death?

“In the flesh.” He tilts his head, snorts. “Well, in a manner.”

“How…?” you ask, eyes already stinging.

“Told ya, you called. I’d never – hey, now, hey. No need for all that,” he soothes. He wipes the tears from your face. You can feel the warmth in his fingers. “This is a happy occasion.”

You huff in watery amusement, shaking your head. “Did you lose your glasses when you died? I wouldn’t call this celebration-worthy.”

His eyes scan over you, flicker dark. “It will be, don’t you worry.”

You blink, try to focus. Exhaustion and injury and chemical rush are making it difficult, but you know things are off. He shouldn’t be here, least of all because you called. And… something else too. Something in the way he’s holding his shoulders and the twitching around his expression.

“Johnny, really,” you say, “why are you here?”

“You offered me anything, and I’m here to collect.”

Between one blink and the next, his eyes are black. Pitch black, from corner to corner. You suck in a breath, try to jerk back but there’s nowhere to go.

His grin is sharp enough to cut yourself on.

“I’ve been waiting for that,” he sighs.

He leans in, lips parting. His tongue rolls out, long and split at the tip. Licks a luxurious, burning trail from your chin to your temple. You make a sound borne of confused pleasure and fear, high in the back of your throat.

He shushes you, plants a slow kiss at the corner of your mouth. “My brave little lass, finally offering herself to the demon she’s been courting.”

The word bounces against the walls of your cell and burrows into your brain. Demon, demon, demon.

Johnny is…

“You tricked me,” you sob.

He cocks his head, onyx eyes soft with avarice. “Tricked you? No, angel, I’m saving you.”

His hands pet over the cruel ties around your ankles. The itch of them digging into your skin falls away. Gentle thumbs rub circles over the imprints the left behind. Hope and relief pounds hard in your chest.

“I’m only taking what you so willingly and enthusiastically offered,” he explains in hushed awe. Like you’ve given him such a wonderful gift, the greatest gift. Suppose you have.

“I’m going to take such good care of you,” he croons. His arms wrap around you, almost like a hug. His fingertips trace down your bruised arms to the cuffs biting your wrists. Those too fall away, and you find yourself reaching for him so quickly, folding into his chest, free of that wretched chair.

“There’s my girl,” he murmurs, a hand curling into blood and sweat soaked tangles.

“It… it is you, right?” you ask. “You’re my Johnny?”

“Always, angel,” he replies, “it’s always been me. I will always be yours. All you have to do is say yes.”

You tilt your head back, catch the wicked curve of fangs as he speaks. He smells like heat and woodsmoke.

“Yes to what?” you ask.

“To everything,” he answers, deep and rough. “You offered anything, and I want all of you.”

You should say no, you should throw yourself away from him.

There is not an inch of your mind or body that wants to leave the safety of his arms. This is Johnny, your Johnny, hellfire and all.

“And… in return,” you venture, “I get… you?”

“Eternally.”

Then it really doesn’t need much more thought.

“Yes. Please.”

“Good girl.”

#my writing #fanfiction #john soap mactavish #reader fic #cod #writing prompts #demon!soap #soap x reader

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aethes-bookshelf · 5 months

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empty eyes, emptier words || astarion/tav/halsin

I've been stuck in BG3 hell since the game first came out. I'm still in there. I don't think I'll be coming out anytime soon, so have this piece of angst. If everything goes well, maybe I'll deliver on some devil fucking (ft. Haarlep & Raphael). But that's a big IF.

For now, take this. I wrote it in class. I was supposed to be paying attention, but I made this instead. Bon appétit.

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, tav straight up fucking dies

Pairing: astarion/tav/halsin

Wordcount: 1.4k

Summary: Orin knew exactly who to take to hit those troublesome True Souls the hardest. Their leader was the obvious choice - a chicken can only run so far if you take its head. Tav would make a beautiful sacrifice for Bhaal.

And if anyone came to try and get them back? All the better. Blood will flow either way. And what a sight it'll be.

[I made some changes to Orin's dagger. Now, whoever gets killed with it can't be resurrected. Or can they?]

ao3 link || part 2

Orin turned around at the first sound of footsteps. She brandished her dagger, her Netherstone embedded in the cold metal of the weapon. She was standing on the sacrificial altar at the center of the temple. Beneath her laid Tav, arms and legs bound. They were unconscious, fresh and old wounds littering their body. The little clothing they wore stuck to their skin, wet with blood. The smell of it hit Astarion like a club to the head. He hated how his mouth instantly watered, hunger rearing its ugly head.

‘I don’t smell Gortash’s rot on you,’ Orin said, crouching by Tav’s body. She dragged her blade across their skin. Fresh blood bubbled to the surface. Tav didn’t even flinch. They were barely breathing.

‘Did it think it could trick me? Did it think it could save?’ Orin taunted, her dagger stopping right over Tav’s heart. Astarion could hear its faint beating.

The heat of Karlach’s anger burned the air around her. ‘I hope you’re not about to do what I think you are. For your sake.’ Her massive ax sliced through the pungent air, tail swishing behind her.

Halsin didn’t speak, but his eyes glowed bright gold. His hands were clenched at his sides, anger barely restrained.

Astarion unsheathed his own daggers, their weight a fleeting comfort. ‘You lay one more finger on them, I’ll rip your throat out,’ he said. A growl ripped itself out of his throat.

‘Your teeth aren’t sharp enough to pierce my throat,’ said Orin. The tip of her dagger sank into Tav’s chest. ‘Not enough to slice my flesh, taste my blood.’ She drew back her hand, dagger rising into the air. A speck of blood followed its tip.

Astarion clenched his jaw so hard his teeth hurt. His upper lip drew back; he bared his fangs on instinct.

‘Even if you kill them, all you’ll achieve is pissing us off,’ said Karlach. Her words were confident, but her voice betrayed her; she was afraid. ‘We’ll just bring them back so they can spit on your fucking corpse after I split you in half, you crazy bitch.’

None of them liked the way Orin laughed at those words. ‘“Bring them back”? Not here. Not with Bhall’s blessing.’ She grinned, showing all of her teeth. ‘They’ll be the first sacrifice of the night. Then I’ll spill your blood and guts on their flayed skin.’ A shiver ran through Orin as she brought her dagger down.

The blade sank into Tav’s chest with a sickening squelch. They gasped, body going rigid for just a second. Then they went limp.

Astarion’s scream rang through the still air as Karlach charged the altar.

* * *

Astarion knelt down by the bodies laying on the stairs and started rifling through their pockets.

‘What the hell are you doing, Fangs?’ asked Karlach. Tears were evaporating off of her face, her infernal engine still hot with her battle rage. The ashes of a used scroll of revivify were cooling at her feet. The spell's energy had already ran out and Tav was still limp, their body slowly going rigid.

‘I’m looting, can’t you tell?’ Astarion’s voice was snappy, but even. ‘Tav’s usually the one to take everything that’s not nailed down but they obviously can’t do it this time, can they?’

He leaned down over a pile of smoking bones and burned blood that used to be a man once. ‘They always find something for us in these piles of trash, I thought it’d be… nice to do the same for them for once.’ He managed to fish out a rusted dagger from underneath the pile.

‘Astarion,’ said Karlach, voice breaking.

‘Besides, their favorite tea ran out a few days ago, so we’re gonna need stuff to sell.’ He leaned over the pile of Orin’s gore next. ‘Tav spent most of our money on some new armor for you and Gale, and that tea’s expensive, you know?’ He took Orin’s dagger. His hands were shaking.

‘Astarion,’ Karlach tried again. The low hiss of evaporating tears got louder.

‘They deserve to drink something good when they come back, no?’ Astarion stood up straight. His grip on Orin’s dagger was so tight his chuckles went paper-white.

‘Astarion,’ Karlach’s voice was low and thick with tears, ‘I don’t think they’re coming ba—’

‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence.’ Astarion was quick to turn around and point the dagger at Karlach’s chest. ‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence.’ For the first time since they arrived at the temple, his voice broke. ‘Of course they’re coming back. Why do we keep that creepy skeleton around if not to bring us back in times like these?’

His eyes watered. ‘They’re coming back. They have to. They must. Even if that means I’ll have to drag them out of the Hells myself.’

Astarion’s eyes wandered to Tav’s broken corpse. They were still laying on the altar, the stone of it slick with their drying blood. He couldn’t see their face; Halsin’s shoulders were obstructing the view. Astarion could swear the druid was shaking too.

‘Halsin, they’re coming back, right? They’re coming back!’ If Astarion’s heart still beat, it’d be fluttering with rising panic.

Halsin’s voice was low and quiet. He kept stroking Tav’s matted hair as he spoke. ‘I’m not sure they will, my friend.’

Those words punched all air out of Astarion’s lungs. Fury replaced it.

‘Shut up!’ he screamed; his voice echoed in the empty temple. ‘We were supposed to have decades together. Decades! They can’t leave yet. They promised!’ His knees buckled. With every word he spoke, he sank lower and lower, until his knees hit the cold stone beneath him. ‘They promised we’d… We were supposed to find a way for me to be in the sun again,’ his voice faded into silence.

Astarion couldn’t speak anymore. His chest clenched and his eyes burned. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rage and kill, and tear. He wanted to bring Orin back just so he could send her to her blasted god all over again. He wanted to hear Tav laugh at one of his stupid jokes.

His throat was clenched so tight not even sobs could escape it. He was vaguely aware Halsin’s shoulders were openly shaking with his grief, but he couldn’t bring himself to comfort the druid. That would mean looking at Tav’s empty eyes. That would make this entire nightmare real. So very, terribly real.

Astarion’s grip on Orin’s dagger loosened; the weapon fell with a loud cling, its Netherstone slipping out of it. The stone shone dimly in the light of the torches.

All of it for these stones. All this death, pain and misery for these three pieces of one whole. Tav died for it.

Meaningless, meaningless, meaningless. All of it. All of it!

Astarion’s mind was reeling; jumping from pain to denial to anger to desperation. He didn’t know what to do. Tav would know, he thought, and a fresh wave of tears fell.

Karlach laid a hand on his shoulder. She’d cooled down enough for her touch to be only slightly painful on his corpse-cold skin. ‘We have to go, Fangs. Halsin.’ Her grip on Astarion tightened when he shook his head. ‘We have to go,’ she repeated, harsher this time. Barely restrained emotion shook her voice. ‘If they even can come back, we need to get them back to camp as soon as possible.’

Halsin took a deep breath and wiped his face with the back of his hand. ‘Karlach’s right,’ he said and stood up. Tav was limp as he cradled them close to his chest. To his heart. ‘If we stay here too long, we’ll certainly lose them for good.’ The druid squared his shoulders and turned to face the other two.

Astarion went rigid at the sight of Tav’s hand, limply hanging off the side of their body. He couldn’t bring himself to look up at their face.

‘Astarion,’ Halsin’s voice was soft, ‘I understand your pain. They are in my heart as they are in yours. But we mustn't waste time lest we lose them forever. If there is a chance to save them, we must act now.’

Astarion swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. The chill of death had never been more present in his bones. He nodded, silent, and picked up Orin’s dagger and Netherstone.

‘Let’s go,’ said Karlach, new-found determination on her face. ‘We still have to buy their favorite tea after this, right? How’d you put it, Fangs? “They deserve to drink something good after this”?’

Astarion nodded. He didn’t trust his voice not to break if he spoke. There was an empty, far-away look in his eyes.

As they left the temple of Bhaal, the sweet stench of blood followed them out.

#my writing #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #halsin x tav #halsin x reader #astarion x tav x halsin #angst #hurt/no comfort #major character death #x reader #gender neutral tav #ambiguous ending

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clementine-thedestroyer · 6 months

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Kinktober day 13/14: Monsterfucking + blood - Childe/Foul Legacy Transformation x reader

Warnings/tags: Monsterfucking, his dick is like 14 inches, fem!reader. Once Childe transforms, Foul Legacy gets it/its pronouns. Blood is mentioned, unrealistic sex, Foul Legacy is kind of horror movieified. Slight dub con. It sticks its tongue down your throat. You bleed from multiple things. Mentions of breeding too.

Reader really wants Childe to fuck her in his Foul Legacy transformation.

The first time you asked Childe to fuck you in his foul legacy form, he said no.

Immediately shut you down. Outright refused. Wouldn’t even let you start up with a word of argument- he was so violently opposed to the idea- convinced there was no way you could take that version of him, in any way.

But you were, if anything, stubborn. You were sure you could handle it! You knew you could! And you showed Childe that every opportunity you got- stretching yourself wider and wider till you could nearly take your whole hand. A proud grin on your face as you straddled him- giving him the perfect view to see exactly how much you could take.

You were just so determined to prove to Childe that you could handle it- and no matter how many times he told you “No. It would destroy you.” you persisted. Eventually wearing down his walls enough to just get him to have an open conversation about the topic.

You were curled up against Childe’s side, looking up at him as he stuttered in exasperation and desperately tried to explain to you just how bad of an idea this was. “It’ll break you- it'll rip you apart!”

“No. It won’t. I showed you I could take it, so you gotta at least come up with a new excuse.” You responded, huffing.

“It’s still a bad idea! Being exposed to that much abyssal energy is dangerous! It’s no-“ You cut him off, a bit of pride rising in your chest as you revel in having anticipated this argument beforehand. “I talked to Dottore. He said it’s fine.”

Childe frowns, choosing to set the whole bringing-a-mad-man-into-your-sexlife thing aside for later, and instead focusing on the current subject. “I don’t believe him, he’s not exactly trustworthy.”

“He’s competent.”

“He’s a psychopath.”

“But a competent one.”

Childe sighs, angling your head and looking into your eyes as he speaks in a more serious tone. “You don’t understand. When I’m like that- Foul Legacy isn’t me. I’m not able to control myself- it’s all instincts, there’s no self control, there’s no thinking, only doing. It’s-it’s like I’m an animal. And I don’t want you to see me like that and be… scared of me.”

You, very calmly and methodically, explain to him: That. Is. Exactly. What. You. Want.

After that night, it still takes another week's worth of convincing before you get him to agree, and then another week of prep before the big day. And when it finally comes, you can’t help but feel a twinge of regret over not listening to Childe’s warnings. Because oh holy shit. That’s a lot bigger than you had been expecting-

You had seen Foul Legacy before, of course, but only from far away. Up close was a whole new thing. It was 10 feet. Easily. Childe Foul Legacy absolutely towered over you, you couldn’t hide how you trembled and practically cowered underneath its watch. Dressed intricately in an array of dark purples and reds, purple sparks crackled and fizzled in the air surrounding it. The only hint of Childe remaining was the messy nest of ginger hair that stuck out from behind Foul Legacy’s mask (face? You couldn’t tell).

You understood what Childe meant. This wasn’t him, this was Foul Legacy.

“Is this what you wanted?”

You flinch as you hear Foul Legacy speak, forcing your head into a shaky nod. Its voice is deep, scratchy, and barely recognizable as Childe’s. Despite the words clearly ringing through the room, there’s no movement from its mask.

“Good.”

You could’ve sworn Foul Legacy teleported to infront of you. One moment it was across the room, the next, its black claws found your hips, effortlessly lifting you up and tossing you onto the mattress.

You landed with a soft “thump”, getting no to time to catch your breath before Foul Legacy’s hands are already back on you. Its claws dig into your hips- tiny rivulets of blood flowing from where the razor sharp points pierces your skin- and it lifts.

A startled yelp comes out of your throat as your lower body is lifted up and Foul Legacy moves its head between your legs. You hardly get a chance to scream in horror as its mouth opens- a long, thick, dark purple tongue that immediately dragged roughly over your clit.

You gasped, hands flying to cover your mouth as Foul Legacy ground its tongue against your clit. You rut your hips upwards, whimpering at the way its claws dug deeper into the fat of your hips in warning.

“Childe- Childe please!” You babbled, crying and grabbing at the sheets as you were forced to take the near painful grind of Foul Legacy’s tongue against your clit. It was too much, but it wasn’t enough, and the more Foul Legacy went on, the harder you sobbed, eventually, a painful orgasm crashing into you like a freight train.

Foul Legacy’s tongue continued to rub against you- working you through your orgasm till you were once again squirming in overstimulation.

You didn’t get any time to recover before you were once again dropped down onto the mattress- hazily worrying about the blood ruining the sheets before you froze.

There was no way. There was no way that was going to fit inside of you. It was at least 14 inches, for Christ's sake. And why the hell was it thicker than your upper arm?

You hastily pushed yourself up, opening your mouth to call out Childe’s name- only to have your ankles grabbed and shoved up past your head- your body now completely bent in half.

You cried out and squeezed your eyes shut, shaking as you felt that same long tongue flicker across were Foul Legacy’s bloody claws were holding your ankles- shivering as you felt it lick the blood up- eventually moving to the punctures on your hips and lapping up the blood that ran down your skin.

By the time you cracked your eye open, Foul Legacy had finished with the blood- bitting, licking, and sucking across your thighs as it made its way closer and closer to your still sensitive pussy.

You bucked your hips away, squirming and begging as you tried to get through to Childe.

“No no no no- Childe! I’m too sensitive! You were too rough! Don’t use your tongue again!!”

Foul legacy looked up at you, an angry growl and tight ting of the claws at your wrists was all you needed to be frightened back into compliance.

You bit your cheek and looked away, a whiny whimper escaping from your throat as the head of Foul Legacy’s monstrous cock rubbed against your sore clit.

Well- at least it listened to you-

Although you weren’t sure you were grateful once it started pushing in. No matter how wet you had been, it would’ve hurt either way.

You couldn’t help it, you screamed. loud and pained until Foul Legacy shoved its tongue down your open mouth, muffling your screams as the large muscle wiggled its way past the muscles at the back of your throat, leaving you sobbing and gagging around it as the painful stretch of its cock only grew worse.

All the while, you were staring up. Not at your boyfriend, but at whatever he had become.

Tears flowed freely from your eyes as you struggled to breath around the tongue intent on making its way down your throat. The lack of oxygen at least partially distracted you from the burning stretch of your hole.

Foul Legacy didn’t remove its tongue from your mouth until you were too lost in pleasure to care about the pain. You couldn’t help but scream- the way Foul Legacy’s cock bullied it’s way inside of you- going deeper and deeper with each thrust, till it could bottom out easily with each thrust-

You were absolutely leaking around its cock, babbling and clenching as each of Foul Legacy’s thrusts sent the bed rocking and you bouncing.

You were too far gone to even care when you looked down- seeing Foul Legacy’s cock covered in blood as It roughly thrusted in and out- growling things about breeding you, filling you up, telling you that you’d make such a strong mother for its offspring.

Even when you came, Foul legacy didn’t stop, fucking you through not just that orgasm- but another one after it. By the time Foul Legacy finally did finish, you were hardly more than a fucked out mess beneath it. It’s hips stuttering and grinding into you as it filled you with waves and waves of cum- till it spilled out from your pussy, even while you were still stretched out on its cock.

Even then, Foul Legacy didn’t pull out, it kept you on its cock, curling its massive body around you protectively as you fell asleep almost immediately.

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

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bet-on-me-13 · 11 months

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So, you know how there are a bunch of Fics where one of the Robins comes back as a ghost when they die? Most of the time it’s Jason, sometimes Tim, and Dick and Damian once in a blue moon

But has there ever been a Ghost Cass AU?

Cass dies while on Patrol, maybe is was a villainous plot, maybe it was a random goon getting a lucky shot, maybe she was killed by somebody she trusted...maybe...

Whatever way she died, Cass ends up as a Ghost.

I can see 2 different paths this could take, depending on where she reforms:

PATH 1: Cass Reforms where she died

Cass is reformed where she died, probably very soon afterwards or a few hours later. The Batfamily have not had time to get over their Grief, they only just retrieved her Body an hour ago and need to go back to the crime scene to investigate.

And once they get there, they see what looks like Cass’s Orphan costume but colored differently, just sitting there in a daze. She just became a ghost, only a few hours after her death due to her exposure to the Lazarus Pits, and it was Jarring. Not to mention the Pure Ectoplasm she is made of is reacting weirdly to the corrupted Ectoplasm that is in Jason, making her anxious.

Meanwhile [Insert Batfam member] and Jason are confused, scared, and paranoid. [Batfam member] remembers reading a few articles in passing while researching Lazarus Pits. They were about the Ectoplasmic Entities made from Lazarus Water called Ghosts, how they are imprints of a human consciousness after an emotional death. They are also completely malevolent and non-sentient.

[Batfam Member] doesn’t hope to believe that this is Cass, all the research says that this is a pile of goop pretending to be her. Of course this makes them mad, not only is this thing wearing their sisters face, it will also probably hurt people when it gets strong enough using said face. It feels like an insult. And Cass can’t even defend herself to them, since she lost whatever was left of her ability to speak when she became a Ghost, and she is too dazed and weak to do Sign Language.

[Batfam Member] explains what they know about Ghosts to Jason, how this isn’t Cass at all, just an imprint of her memories. They say this right in front of her, which scares her since they don’t seem to consider her a person anymore, just a thing using Cass’s face

Back when they first read up on Ectoplasmic Entities, he made sure to get a small Ecto-Infused Knife for everyone in the Family in case they ever encountered one.

They bring it out, but before they can do anything, the Ghost of Cass recognizes it and runs away.

Jason is mad that [Batfam Member] instantly went for the knife, or didn’t think to look for any second opinions.

Cass runs to the Batcave, but she gets there as [Batfam Member] is explaining what Ghosts are on the big screen to everybody else. She also sees her own body, laying on a table in the center of the room. She starts to believe that [Batfam Member] is right, that she can’t be the real Cass, just a reflection. And she can’t stay here, the others are bound the believe [Batfam Member] over her now

She runs away, not even revealing herself to her family.

She runs and runs and runs for hours upon hours, non stop, across state lines, until she reaches a place where her instincts were telling her to go. It feels like the air is clear, like she has more energy. She has made it to Amity Park.

From there you can go in any direction you want.

PATH 2: Cass Reforms in the Zone

Cass reforms in a random place in the Zone, in a color swapped version of her Orphan costume. She wakes up to see a sky of green and ground of purple, completely alone, no one around her.

She wanders for a bit, but a run-in with a Monster forces her to run. As it chases her, she finds that she can fly, but so can it.

As she is running, a blast comes from above her and blasts the monster away. She looks up to see a guy with Green-Blue Skin, pointy ears, and white hair, in a Black Hazmat Suit, floating above her.

He introduces himself as Phantom, and explains that she must be a Ghost. She can’t respond because she lost the last of her ability to speak, but thankfully he knows Sign Language

She can’t remember how she died, but she remembers most of the rest of her life. She takes off her mask, and you can see that she looks like normal Cass with Green Skin, white Hair, and the pointy ears. Also small fangs cause I think those are cool.

Danny helps her around, teaches her about the Zone, introduces his living friends, all that. She even meets a cute clone named Ellie, but that’s besides the point. Eventually, after a few weeks of traveling the Zone and learning about her new abilities, she asks if she can go see her family. Danny agrees, but says that first he should teach her how to shapeshift so she can look human enough to go to the living world.

Which is how Danny and Cass learn that Cass is a Halfa (due to her exposure to the Lazarus Pits). While she is thinking of her human form, a ring of gold energy surrounds her and she suddenly has a heartbeat again. She’s also extremely hungry cause Ghosts don’t need to eat, but Halfa’s do (even if it is significantly less)

By the time she goes to see her Family, they are not as high strung or paranoid as they would have been directly after her death, so they are more willing to listen to reason. Also with Danny there (and maybe ellie), he can explain what she can’t.

But now they don’t know what to do, they still haven't figured out who killed Cass, all they know is that she was definitely killed, it wasn’t an accident.

What comes Next? I also don’t know, I need suggestions!

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addthespaghetti · 29 days

Text

I Can’t Imagine Bein’ Anywhere Else

i don’t know if i will write a part 2 because i could just end it here. if people like this and i have enough energy to write another part, i will.

Warnings: fluff, angst (not a lot), and panic attacks

1400+ words

As you finally walk through the door of your apartment, you take a deep breath, relieving the stress from a long day of work and one too many stairs. After standing there for a moment, enjoying the quiet of your apartment, you put your bag on the table and bend down to take off your shoes, but before you can, a ball of black fur and eyes that look like they can and will murder you if you don't feed him right this second walks in between your legs.

“Hey Sergio,” you said as you redirected your hand from your shoes to the meowing cat between your legs.

Knowing Sergio gets like this when he is hungry, you forget your shoes and pick up the spoiled cat. You carry him to his food bowl to see what all his complaining is about. As you walk through your apartment to get to his food dish, you turn your head to avoid the picture on the wall, aware that it will worsen your already fragile mood.

“Are you serious Sergio? Your food bowl is practically full.” You say to the cat curled up in your arms giving you a sweet look.

You roll your eyes as you put him down and walk over to the bin with his way to expensive cat food. “Spoiled ass cat,” you mutter under your breath as you put fresh food into his bowl.

Before you can stop pouring the food out of the cup you are using, Sergio rushes up to the dish, acting like he has not been fed in years, even though it has been only a few hours, “Calm down, damn.” You say to the cat that is already tearing into his food.

You put the empty cup onto the counter. Then you hear your phone ring in the other room. You walk over to the bag you left on the console table and grab it out of your bag to see who is calling you.

Jennifer Jareau

Confused, you answer the phone. You were never close with Emily's team, even more now since her death. You answer the phone, feeling the drop in your stomach and your heart rate increasing just like it did seven months ago when JJ called you out of the blue and told you the love of your life was dead.

Ignoring the anxiety you are feeling, you answer the phone, “What's up JJ?” You ask, fidgeting nervously.

“Hey, are you home?”

From where you are standing, you look around the apartment, confused by the blonde question.

“Yeah?” you answer in a confused tone, “Why?”

JJ pauses before she answers you, “Do you mind if I come over?”

“My apartment is a mess, but if you need to.” You answer honestly.

You hear JJ talking on the other side of the phone to someone in the background before she speaks again, “It won't bother me. I have a young boy at home. I will be there in about twenty minutes.”

“Alright, see you soon.” You say before hanging up.

The next twenty minutes were hell. You finally were able to take off your shoes, but not before you anxiously walked around your apartment cleaning up, hoping it would pass the time quicker. Still, every time you looked at the clock, the time never seemed to move.

Knock Knock Knock

Startled by the sudden noise, you rush to the door. Before opening the door, you look out the peephole. You can see JJ talking to someone. You can not tell who, but you open it anyway. JJ was your late girlfriend's best friend and an FBI agent. She would not bring someone to hurt you.

“Hey JJ,” you say to the blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman, in front of you. You look at JJ to see how she looks; you are no profiler, but you can tell JJ looks stressed and tired. It is written all over her face.

After studying JJ, you turn to the person who is standing next to her, and your stomach immediately drops.

“E-Emily?” You can barely stutter out before your eyes start to well with tears, and your breathing starts to rapidly increase.

Someone is trying to say something to you, but everything sounds as if it is a mile away as you stare at the woman standing before you.

The love of your life is standing in front of you. The woman you buried seven months ago is alive. The woman you grieved and stayed up all night crying because you would never be able to hug her, kiss her, or hold her ever again was standing right in front of you.

Suddenly, you felt sick. You ran back into the apartment, avoiding looking at the picture out of habit, and ran to the bathroom. Where you spilled your guts into the toilet bowl.

As you lay against the toilet, dry heaving, you feel hands on your back and grabbing your hair. You sob into the toilet bowl after finally finishing up the last of the wave of sickness.

Leaning away from the toilet bowl, you fall backward onto the wall, wrap your arms around your bunched-up knees, and start crying. You feel arms wrap around you, still not noticing whose arms you are sobbing into. You let them hold you until you calm down a little bit more.

As your sobs slow down and your breathing starts to get back to normal, you finally look up to see who is holding you, and it is Emily. You could smell her signature perfume and the specific brand of shampoo that only she uses. You can tell it is her by the way she is holding you so you don’t get uncomfortable, but so she can still hold you close.

Emily is alive and real. The love of your life is here holding you as you break down in her arms.

“Emily,” you say quietly, moving your hand up to touch her face, to feel her again after all this time of missing her and her touch.

The raven-haired woman looks down at you with tears in her eyes, “I’m sorry,” before she can finish her apology, you put your lips on hers. Emily kisses you back immediately. This kiss wasn’t rushed or lust-filled. It was slow and sweet. You could taste the salt from the tears on her lips and the vanilla chapstick she applies to her lips.

You pull back from the kiss, and sit in each other's arms, not speaking to each other. You both were too scared to break the silence in the room.

Before either of you can break the silence, a loud meow comes from right next to you, and Sergio tries to move right in between you and Emily.

“I swear that cat is homophobic," you mutter without thinking, not letting the spawn of satan get between you and your girlfriend.

Emily looks at you and then laughs, “What?” She asks, still giggling.

“I’m just saying, every time there is a gay person in this apartment doing gay things, he stops them. It is obviously homophobia.” You say refusing to take back what you said about Sergio being homophobic.

“Cats can’t be homophobic, babe,” Emily says, letting you go from her embrace and standing up. After standing up, she puts out her hand to make it easier for you to stand up.

You take her hand and stand up, rolling your eyes at her. You start walking to the living room. “Well, that cat is,” you say, moving to sit on the couch.

Emily follows close behind you, silently laughing before sitting down right next to you on the couch and pulling you closer to her.

“I’m sorry,” Emily says, suddenly getting serious. As her dark brown eyes stare into your soul.

You take a deep breath before responding in a timid whisper, “I don’t want to talk about it tonight. I only want to lay in your arms all night, cuddled together on the couch or on the bed. I really don’t care which one. I only want you.”

“I can do that. JJ already left, so it is just me and you tonight anyway.” The raven-haired woman says, pulling you closer into her arms.

You and Emily stay cuddled on the couch, holding each other. You both are on the verge of sleep. Before you fall asleep, Emily could hear you whisper, “I love you, Emily.”

“I love you too, baby,” Emily says, not knowing if you are awake or asleep. All she cares about is you are lying in her arms even after everything that happened.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fluff #self insert #no y/n #tooth rotting fluff #angst #paget brewster #criminal minds

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okkotsuus · 9 months

Note

hello! i’d like to request a very sad gojo angst, based on billie eilish’s song “what was i made for?” like reader could be having a self doubt moment??? if she’s good enough for satoru (you can do the same thing you did as to that one gojo angst you did! where gojo was healing from geto’s death) thank you ! ^__^

it’s not what he’s made for (satoru g.) !

features: satoru gojo

contents: crying. implied death and injury. grief. basic jjk triggers. feeling useless. feeling not enough. feeling ashamed. failing to protect people. perceived judgment. heartbreak. hiding things from partners. hurt with comfort for once. angst. 1k words.

notes: idk how i feel about this, so lmk if it's not what you want and i can try it again :)

you can’t help but notice the way satoru gojo stiffens the second he sees raw emotion being expressed. it’s something you find out before you even begin dating him. you can practically feel the discomfort radiating off of him when he sees another sorcerer cry at their partner’s death.

it was at that moment you vowed to yourself to never cry in front of him. but that was a while ago, and you were no longer in a shallow friendship with him: you were in love.

but you couldn’t shake that fear that if you ever showed vulnerability to him, he would regard you with that same disgust. it was irrational, you knew that, but it still lingered in the back of your mind.

even now, as you feel your heart actively cracking in your chest as yet another sorcerer is slain under your care, you just choke down the tears until satoru leaves the room. the inside of your bottom lip is bitten raw from how many times you’ve clamped your mouth shut to ward off sobs of agony.

with a cursed technique like yours, every mission comes with a lot of survivor’s guilt. protector’s promise: a cursed technique that grants you a stats and cursed energy boost based on the strength difference between you and your allies. even more so when your allies are weaker than the opponent. you also get a boost from non-sorcerers being in the immediate area

alone, you are a low-grade one. but with a group weaker than you, it skyrockets to high-grade one or even to special grade. as such, you are often paired up with sorcerers fresh out of training, or even those still in it.

the higher-ups treat you as a way to weed out weak sorcerers, all while boosting your own powers and giving your obscenely hard missions. because you also receive a boost if your allies are injured or killed. it’s one of the most heart-breaking things a sorcerer can experience; to have a partner die. and you lose at least one nearly every mission.

with no outlet in satoru, you find yourself sobbing alone or with shoko. she knows how satoru is, just as well as you, having been his classmate and friend for ten years. that’s why you should’ve expected this.

when she picks up the phone, you speak immediately. “shoko, i’m sad again, don’t tell my boyfriend… it’s not what he’s made for.” you hear shuffling on the other line and protests from her before a familiar voice rings in your ear. “y/n, it is what i’m made for. now, come home, we need to talk.” then, the line clicks.

you feel your heart break, he doesn’t think you trust him. he’s mad. he’s upset. he’s disgusted. the thoughts spiral as fat tears fall down your cheeks, opening the door.

there stands satoru, arms crossed and his lips pursed. the blindfold he usually wore was hung loosely around his neck, forcing you to look straight into his baby blues. the second your eyes meet his, your facade crumbles.

with a choked sob, you fall onto your knees, crumbling like sand. but you never hit the ground, strong arms slip under your arms and around your back. the side of your face pressed against his jujutsu-uniform jacket. his other arm slips under your knees as he picks you up as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, kicking the door closed.

satoru sits on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as he holds your so tenderly. a part of you feels guilty and stupid for thinking that he would ever be disgusted with you. you had never seen satoru gojo handle anyone with this much care, touch feather-light with the strength of love.

“why haven’t you told me you felt this way, do you not trust me..?” his words come out in a whisper, voice shaking ever so slightly. at that moment, you feel like the worst person in the world for making him think that. your hands cup his face as you look towards him with your teary eyes, desperately shaking your head.

“satoru, no, i trust you so much, more than anyone-”

“then why?”

your words catch in your throat, shame burning and pooling in your gut as you decide whether or not to tell him that it was because of some silly face he made years ago. worry surges again before being dissipated by his forehead pressing against yours.

a deep breath in, then you speak. “i didn’t want you to think i was weak…” in that instant you see his face soften, likely connecting the dots himself.

he’s gentle as he presses your face into the crook of his neck, arms winding around your back. his words come out faintly against your ear, breath lightly tickling your skin. “i’m sorry i made you feel that way, you’re not weak. you’re strong, much stronger than me in this regard.” he feels you smile against his skin and he chuckles, rocking side to side with you in his arms as if nothing else in this world mattered more.

you can’t help but feel like a fool for ever thinking that satoru gojo would look upon you with disgust for anything: especially not for some tears. not when he looks at you like you’re the world when you do any little thing. not when he whispers such sweet nothings to you at any opportunity. not when he holds you so desperately close when there is any sort of chance.

you can’t help but be forced to realize the strength in which satoru gojo loves. the love that is exclusive to you and you alone.

okkotsuus 23

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru angst #satoru #satoru x reader #satoru angst #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo

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maddogofshimano · 5 months

Text

The Fist of Reason: Majima Boss Rush

Happy 5th anniversary to rggo! hard to believe it’s been this long already

look at our festival boys! anyways lets get into this because I’m very excited

summary:

sometime after the events of Y1, Kiryu gets a call that Haruka has a fever. On his way to pick her up, he bumps into someone familiar...

[One day, some time after the strife caused by the Tojo Clan's stolen 10 billion yen was settled...]

Kiryu: Hello. ...Thank you for calling.

Kiryu: ...Huh? Haruka's got a fever? ...I understand, I'll be there right away. <scene change to outside> Kiryu: .....

<he bumps into someone> Kiryu: Oh, sorry. ???: Sorry? If sorry was enough to cut it, there wouldn't be yakuza! Majima: Ain't that right? Kiryu-chaaan!

Kiryu: Majima no nii-san!? What are you doing at a place like this... Majima: What's so weird about that? If Kiryu-chan's somewhere, then Majima is too! Majima: Outside of that, the spot where ya just rammed into me hurts like hell... Majima: Shit, ya probably broke the bone... Hehe, what're ya gonna do? Kiryu: People with broken bones don't laugh about it. Sorry, but I'm in a rush right now. Majima: Why ya bein' so cold~? We ain't seen each other in ages.

Kiryu: We can talk more next time. Like I said, I'm in a rush. Majima: Too bad! No matter what ya say, ya gotta beat me if ya wanna go!! Hehehe! Kiryu: Tch...! Kiryu: Give it a damn rest already! Haruka has a fever! Majima: ! ........ Majima: What the hell... I didn't know that. Majima: I'm sorry for this. Go on, hurry up 'n' get gone.

Kiryu: .....Damn. <he runs off>

[And then, 3 months later...]

Kiryu: ...I haven't seen Majima no nii-san around here since then.

Kiryu: (I thought he was the kind of person to come back the next day for a fight, but...) Kiryu: ........... Kiryu: (Even if I was in a rush at the time, did I speak too harshly to him...?) Kiryu: (Of course I don't think a guy like him would be dejected from that... Well, it is possible...) ???: Kiryu no ojiki (tl note: ojiki is an honorific that's literally "dad's younger brother" which is used for patriarchs less senior than your own. Nishida usually uses it) Kiryu: ...Hm? Kiryu: You're that Majima Family guy...

Nishida: About that... My boss is going to be put in jail. Kiryu: What...!? Nishida: It happened yesterday... Our family is supposed to be running a festival... Nishida: In the middle of it some thugs started acting up, and they got into a fight with our family members. Nishida: So now they've issued a warrant for my boss, since he was the one in charge... Kiryu: What is Majima no nii-san going to do? Nishida: He thinks it would be futile to resist, so he's waiting at the festival site for the police to arrive. Kiryu: What? Nishida: My boss has been acting oddly for the past 3 months or so. He doesn't have any energy, and seems pretty depressed. Kiryu: 3 months... it can't be. Nishida: And so, my boss really wants to see you before he goes to jail... Kiryu: Me...? Nishida: Yes. He said he has something to tell you, so... Kiryu: ...Got it. Lead the way. Nishida: Y-Yes sir! <they leave> Majima: ......... (tl note: I'm sorry the image of him just holding that pose in that outfit while waiting for the cops to show is so funny to me)

Kiryu: ...Majima no nii-san. Majima: ...Oh, Kiryu-chan, ya showed.

Majima: Excuse my appearance. I was up on a float till now. Kiryu: ...I just spoke with Nishida. Are you really going to jail? Majima: ...Yeah. Orders from on high, can't be helped. I'll be awfully lonely during those years... Majima: That said, I won't be botherin' ya any more, Kiryu-chan. Kiryu: ...... Majima: I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused ya. ...I wanted to at least say that, before I went to jail. Kiryu: ...That's not like you. Kiryu: Are you really going to let your underlings see you leave the outside world with such a pathetic display? Majima: ...I don't really care either way. Kiryu: ........... Kiryu: ...Good grief. You acting this way is completely infuriating to me. Kiryu: It can't be helped, this is a big favor. ...I'll get you all fired up again.

Majima: Hah...? Kiryu: You know the best way I can cheer you up? ...Come at me, Majima. Majima: ...!

Majima: Is this... are you pickin' a fight with me?

Kiryu: Heh, isn't that what I just said? Majima: ........Hee, hehehe! Majima: Kiryu-chan, you're always the best! Majima: Let's get started...! Kiryu-chan!!!!

Majima: Hehe... As always, Kiryu-chan... you're tough as nails...

Kiryu: Heh... You are too. (tl note: RARE KIRYU SMILING SPRITE)

Majima: Oi oi, you're sayin' somethin' nice? Kiryu: Majima no nii-san... I'm sorry. Majima: Ah? Kiryu: For what happened 3 months ago. Kiryu: I was flustered, and I snapped at you. Majima: ........As always, Kiryu-chan, you're soft as a marshmallow~. I'm astounded. Kiryu: ....? Nishida: E-Excuse me! Kiryu no ojiki!

Nishida: The truth is... My boss going to jail was a lie in order to get you to show up... Kiryu: What? Then... was him being depressed also a lie... Majima: It was aaaaall an act! Majima: I was pretendin' to be put off by how ya talked to me so ya'd feel sympathetic, then after worryin' ya for long enough-- Majima: I'd reveal it was all a ruse, 'n' you'd get pissed off enough to throw down! That was the plan! Majima: It played out a little differently than intended, but, we still had a fight so it's all good. Kiryu: .....Heh, you're such an ass. (tl note: TWO smiles!! unprecedented.)

Majima: What, you're not mad? Kiryu: I had a feeling that something like this was going on. Majima: Then why'd'ya fight me? Kiryu: ...When it's with you, I can go all out in a fight. Kiryu: ...If I really think on it, I guess I enjoy fighting with you. Just a bit. (tl note: THIRD smile!!!)

Majima: !!..... Hehehehehe!! Heeey~! I knew it!!

Majima: C'mon, let's go another round! Hearin' ya say that's gotten me all worked up again! Kiryu: ...Heh, sure. It's a festival, after all. It's a good excuse to really cut loose. Majima: Hell yes!! Let's do this... Kiryu-chaaaaaa~n!!!! Nishida: A-Ah... This won't end until the sun comes up...

<END>

bonus stuff:

oh wow. oh man. that was pretty gay. between this and like a dragon: gaiden: the man who erased his name (lad gai man) thank you ryu ga gotoku studios for sending me birthday presents

obligatory boss rush pic

also a bonus shot of Kiryu’s apartment

the two new cards for this are “Mad Dog of the Festival Stage” and “Dragon of the Festival Band”

and since it was a festival I also put together a very special team to repeatedly kick Majima’s ass

#rggo #Ryu ga Gotoku #ryu ga gotoku online #yakuza online #yakuza #like a dragon #Majima #Kiryu #Nishida #Majima Goro #Kiryu Kazuma

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pettyprocrastination · 8 months

Text

Taste Test

Pairing: Line Cook!Simon Riley x Line Cook!Fem!Reader

Summary: Simon is warned by his manager about the dangers of a workplace romance. You are asked for your opinion on seasoning.

Warnings: profanity and smoking.

Wordcount: 1.3k

Note: take this silly little thing as an apology for my utter lack of activity lately I'm so sorry yall! Made simon a linecook as a little joke au but now its kinda stuck in my head and not leaving lmao. Big thank you to @madhyanas @thesadvampire and @yeehaw-djarin for being my beta readers and editors for this story! I smooch you all <3

__________________

Simon had just finished plating his sixth steak of the night when the manager, Elise, a woman with twitching hands and cold eyes, pokes her head into the kitchen and barks his name.

“My office.”

The others snicker and bump shoulders like schoolboys, calling out a jested “fuck did you do this time, Riley?” that he doesn’t bother answering with words so much as a choice hand gesture thrown into the air before he ducks under the door frame and disappears down the hall.

“You want to tell me what I’m getting chewed out for?” Simon rasps as he tucks his hands into the front pocket of his apron, scarred fingers curling around the carton of cigarettes tucked within it.

Elise’s office is hardly bigger than the pantry, just large enough for a rickety desk piled with bills and a chair with a threadbare cushion that was all but pressed flat.

“I’m not reprimanding you, Simon.”

“Is that so?”

“Think of what I’m about to say as-” Elise tilts her head, flashing him a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “A preventive measure.”

Simon fishes out a lighter from his back pocket as she continues. She doesn’t have the energy to tell him to stop.

“What do you think of the new hire?”

Truthfully, nothing.

You don’t talk much outside of work. While the other cooks are content to crack jokes and tell stories of their weekend to one another as they prepare meals, you have no such social connection to anybody within the kitchen. The only moments Simon had even heard your voice was the rushed announcement of your position behind somebody or when coming around the corner.

“She’s fine.” He takes a slow drag of his cigarette and exhales, smoke curling from his lips as he speaks. “Does her job and doesn’t bitch like the others.”

“She’s more than fine.” Elise motions to a stapled pack of paper on her desk.

“Kid went to culinary school, trained under some big fucking names and even worked at some five-star joints before coming here. All her previous employers say she’s a hard worker who picks up shifts and doesn’t cause trouble.”

She picks up the paper and points it towards the six foot four cook hunched in her doorway.

“Which is exactly why I’m telling you now that she is off-fucking-limits to you.”

Simon bites down on his cigarette. “S’cuse me?”

“Don’t play coy, Riley. You’re far too fucking grown to pretend you don’t know what you do.”

He does know. Simon is more than aware of the past flings he’s had with multiple servers, none of which have ended on a positive note and all of which resulted in a souring work environment until they up and quit - leaving front of house understaffed until the next poor bastard walked through the door asking about the Help Wanted sign hung outside.

But the blame can’t be on him entirely, that is. Each doe-eyed waitress entered a fling with the cook knowing good and well what his intentions were, because he had no issue with saying it right to their face.

‘I’m not looking for a relationship.’

Simon is a blunt man. He tells people what he wants because in a world full of dragging feet and double entendres, he values efficiency and honesty above all else.

“Listen, I’ve never stopped you from dipping your hand in the cookie jar before, but this?” She waves your resume in front of him again. “This right here? Off-limits. If you run this poor girl out and leave us understaffed for the Sunday rush I will fucking gut you myself, Simon.”

It’s only been a week and a half since you’ve started working with them. Part of him wants to laugh at Elise’s exasperated accusation. That somehow, in the midst of chaotic shifts where several customers complain and a few bar patrons get rowdy enough for him to have to drag them out by the collar, he’d be able to find the fucking time to learn your goddamn name, let alone sweettalk his way between your legs.

But then he remembers the muffled laugh you hid in your sleeve yesterday when listening to the dishwasher crack jokes during the lunch rush and how you tap the side of your apron in a constant rhythm when looking for something within the kitchen. Simon interrupts his own thoughts and frowns, mildly surprised about just how much he noticed of you from the corner of his eye during the daily lunch rush. Had Elise said nothing, he wouldn’t have cast a second glance in your direction. But now?

“Simon! Are you listening?”

She may have just cursed herself.

“Yeah-” He stamps his cigarette out on the ceramic tray on her desk, offering her a dry clip of his voice before turning on his heel. “No fucking the new cook until we find coverage, got it.”

Simon narrowly avoids a stapler being thrown in his direction before ducking out of her office and back into the kitchen where his coworker grins at him from the sink.

“So? She fire your dumbass yet?”

Across the kitchen, you cut onions with a flicking wrist that never ceased movement, brows furrowed and mumbling to yourself.

Simon hums.

You’re quite pretty.

“Not yet.” He rumbles. “She likes my smile too much.”

You spare Simon a glance as he settles back into his work station next to you before you resume cutting. He notices there’s a scar on your bottom lip, a little sliver of raised skin that goes from the bottom of your chin to the swell of your lower lip.

“Hey.”

His voice shakes you from your focus, hands freezing as you turn to look at him, lightly craning your neck to meet his eyes.

Simon holds out a spoon to you, the other scarred hand hovering beneath to keep it from spilling.

“Mind giving your opinion? Can’t tell if it needs more garlic.”

There’s a moment where your brows cinch together and you look at him with caution, as if to sniff out any sort of deceit within his offer before you mumble, “Yeah, yeah, okay,” and lean forward.

There’s no need for him to feed you. You’re a fully grown woman who could take the spoon from his hand with no issue, but Simon finds himself guiding it to your mouth and letting his other hand tuck under your chin in an affectionate gesture far too intimate for the back kitchen of a local restaurant.

Simon is sure that Elise has cursed him too. He hadn’t given you a second glance or a spare thought since your first day. But now, he watches your eyes flutter shut as you hum at his cooking.

“Good?” he asks.

Your tongue darts out to catch a stray droplet of sauce on your lower lip. “Good.” Your lips purse like you have something more to say and you raise your hand, pinching your pointer finger to your thumb in a universal gesture.

“Could use just a bit more garlic though.”

There’s a brief moment after you speak where panic fills your eyes as Simon says nothing. Frantic thoughts fill your brain, wondering if that was some sort of test for the new hire that you had failed due to your own personal tastes until the man that towers over you nods.

“More garlic.” He echoes. With a short nod of his head, he turns back to his station without another word.

Simon doesn’t speak to you again for the rest of your shift yet at times during the night, where an unexpected pause takes over the kitchen for a brief but appreciated moment of silence, you feel his gaze on the back of your neck.

When the time of the night comes to hang up your apron and slip through the backdoor, he joins you without a word. A large looming shadow walking in step with your own, unexpected but not unwelcome. He bids you a rasped “ ‘Night” before turning to his car as you unlock your own, offering him a mimic of his words before you drive home.

You notice in the reflection of your rear view mirror that he doesn’t leave the parking lot right away. But rather chose to wait until you do to finally depart.

#line cook simon tag #nobody look at me im rusty lmao #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x fem reader #watch me find eight fucking typos the minute i post this lmao

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xcherricutie · 4 months

Text

➤ Messy

Vegeta x F!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count - 1.5k

Summary - Vegeta is a clean freak with anger issues and pent up emotions, and decides to take it out on you for fun.

Notes: This is my first time posting here. I am from Wattpad, so I don't know tumblr etiquette, apologies.

“Your habits are disgusting and you’re a mess.”

He would follow you around and criticize you for what felt like hours on end. It was enough to drive anyone mad, and he did it to you on purpose. He was a man on a mission, out to make your life as miserable as possible. That’s just how it was, being acquainted with the prince of all saiyans. It didn’t matter if you tried to avoid him, he would find you, and he would let you know of every flaw in your life. Almost as if he took a sick satisfaction in seeing you wallow in your own misery and insecurities.

“Vegeta, her house is none of your business,” Bulma scolded with a harsh glare, slapping your discarded napkin out of his hand. You hadn’t had the time to clean up your living space before Bulma and Vegeta dropped by, unannounced. You didn’t mind surprise visitors, but Vegeta was an exception. Every single time he came by, which had become noticeably more frequent, you made absolutely sure that he could not find a single reason to complain or nitpick. You were simply thankful Bulma was there to keep her dog on his leash.

“Sorry for the mess,” you forced through grit teeth with a smile, before your face relaxed as your eyes landed on Bulma. “What brings you here? You’re not one for random visits.”

“Right, sorry,” Bulma chuckled, brushing some strands of her azure hair behind her ear, glancing over at Vegeta as he tip-toed through the specks of dirt in your carpet. Bulma rolled her eyes at the dramatic saiyan, sighing. “I need you to keep an eye on him. I don’t really trust him to be alone at Capsule Corp., and my mom and dad are out on vacation. I’ve got a big workload on my hands and can’t deal with him right now. I’ll pay you good, I promise.”

You wanted to say no. You wanted to tell both of them to get out of your house and never come back. Babysitting Vegeta could have perhaps been Bulma’s most unreasonable request for you. He had not been on Earth for long, and yet had antagonized you more than anyone. You rarely even showed your face at Capsule Corp. anymore because of the man. And Bulma was your best friend that you visited nearly daily for years. She knew how much you hated Vegeta.

And yet, when she pulled the wad of cash out of her pocket, you immediately found yourself agreeing to the impossible task. Bulma’s payments were usually unreasonable amounts, as if the stack of paper zenni she handed to you was less than allowance money for her. It felt wrong to take, but what could you say? You were living independently in the city - you needed any cash you could get. Even if it meant spending a day with the most annoying being in the universe.

As soon as Bulma had left, it was not long before Vegeta started to act up. He almost acted like a prepubescent boy at times, unable to properly convey his feelings, resorting to anger to vent. You had even made a point to clean up around the house so he wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable, but some of the things he complained about were unreasonable.

“The geometry of your living space is poorly designed, woman,” Vegeta commented as he stood in the midst of your living room, looking around at the furniture. You rolled your eyes as you vacuumed the carpet, tuning his voice out.

“Nobody is stopping you from just leaving. You hate all of us, I don’t understand why you continue to torture yourself on this planet,” you muttered, unsure if he heard you over the vacuum. You didn’t care much if he did or not, barely having the energy to speak to or at him.

“I’m waiting for Kakarot to come back to this miserable planet. But I’m starting to doubt he will,” Vegeta said as he placed his hands on his hips, searching for more things in your house to nitpick about. You had done a pretty good job hiding things for him to complain about.

“Maybe he’s avoiding you,” you said with a smirk at the idea. You would not blame Goku one bit if he was avoiding the entire Earth because of Vegeta’s presence. Vegeta did not find your comment very funny as his head whipped to your direction, glaring harshly.

“Then I would track him down and drag him to this miserable planet to humiliate him in front of his loved ones,” Vegeta sneered, lip raised in a slight snarl, as if the mere assumption were the most offensive thing he’d ever heard.

“Is it really that hard to accept that somebody doesn’t like you and doesn’t want to see you? I really don’t understand you, Vegeta,” you stood up straight as you turned off the vacuum, turning to glare at him. “You antagonize people on purpose, and then get mad when everyone leaves. What do you want from us? Why won’t you just leave?”

“My business is none of your concern, woman. I suggest you close your mouth and not utter a single sound from now on, unless you really want to see what antagonistic looks like. I could put you through a world of misery with words alone, I haven’t done anything to you yet.” Vegeta’s harsh eyes stared into your soul, as if knowing you weren’t going to listen. He had been here less than a year, and yet knew you would not stand for such nonsense.

“This is my house! I suggest you shut up if you know what’s good for you, asshole!” You yelled, leaning closer to his face. His warm breath hit your face as he scoffed, looking down at you as if he were so high and mighty. He was barely three inches taller than you.

“I could destroy you, and this house, and this whole planet in a matter of seconds if I wished. Your empty threats mean nothing to me, human.” Vegeta smirked down at you. That was your breaking point as your hand moved on its own. Even Vegeta found himself shocked by your sudden movement as your hand left its mark across his cheek, its shape searing into his cheek. Head turned from the sudden force, Vegeta stared at you with wide eyes, as if to let his brain process the attack on him. You expected him to blow up. You needed to gain control, fast. You would rather your house remained intact by the time Bulma returned.

“Wh-What’s with the surprised look? Didn’t think a girl could hit you? Bet you’re completely smitten, huh?” Your face lit up like a lightbulb, cheeks burning as you smirked, watching his every muscle movement. You didn’t even mean for the words to escape your lips, but as they did, you knew you were dead. “You want to kiss me so bad, huh, Vegeta?”

You saw the blush bloom across his cheek, making your hand mark burn ever brighter. That was the first time you had ever seen an emotion other than anger or pride on his face. But the view did not last long, as you suddenly found your vision obscured, his large frame right in your face, his lips connected to yours. This was an unexpected development, to say the least.

His touch sent lightning through your nerves as his hands uncharacteristically gently slid up your arms, gloved fingers brushing over your cheeks. His kiss was soft, as if to show you everything he had been unable to get across before, many emotions flowing through one small touch. That one small touch, however, began to grow more desperate as Vegeta grabbed your shoulders, firmly pressing his lips to yours. Your scent was intoxicating, and every little jolt of electricity to his nerves sent him spiraling through his pent-up emotions even more.

It wasn’t until your palms were pressed to his chest, trying to push him off, that he broke from his much-needed kiss. You stared up at Vegeta in surprise, watching many emotions flow through his dark pupils, before he finally came to his senses. You were pushed away, although much softer than you would have expected, his warmth pulling away from you as he left you standing there. He plopped down onto the sofa, sinking into the cushions as he crossed his arms, avoiding meeting your gaze. Your eyes stayed glued to him for a moment longer, before you let out a silent scoff, smiling in amusement.

Vegeta had not uttered so much as a word after that. No more comments on her habits or appearance, no more jabs at her life and home. He had sat silently at her side, stealing glances at her every once in a while as she read her book in peace. And perhaps it was the cleaner environment, or just something in him beginning to bloom, but you looked much better than when he had shown up.

And you weren’t sure if it was just the sunlight hitting him at just the right spot, or if he just looked like this when he wasn’t constantly raging, but Vegeta had a different look about him, almost a glow. Perhaps he wasn’t as bad as you had originally thought.

#dragon ball x reader #vegeta x reader #vegeta x you #vegeta x y/n #dragon ball #dbz #dbz x reader #dbs #dbs x reader #vegeta

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archived-daydreams · 1 year

Text

— Move your body, darling.

Summary: You’ve started working out, and your boyfriend encourages you.

Characters: Scaramouche/Wanderer, Albedo, Xiao, Childe, Kaeya, Arataki Itto x gender neutral reader.

Word count: 3.2k.

Tags: fluff, slight crack, suggestive (allusions at doing the deed in Kaeya’s but nothing ex.plicit), soft and supportive boyfriends.

Author’s note: A little something for my dearest @bunny-rambles <3 I hope you like it, love !

Reblog to support your favorite authors ! It helps more than likes.

SCARAMOUCHE

Pretends he doesn’t care, letting slip some comments about how “foolish humans are to believe they can get stronger like that”.

In reality, he’s probably one of the most (if not the most) supportive of this bunch.

Need anything afterwards? He’ll bring it to you, no matter how much he grumbles. And no, don’t try to stop him, because “you are clearly not in the right conditions to do it yourself”. His words not mine, by the way.

Did you drink enough water? Or fruit juice? Or something cold after your work out? You better, he “threatens”, but honestly, he’s happy to prepare it for you (even if he pouts like a grumpy cat).

The afternoon sun is scorching as you keep count of the times you’ve folded and unfolded your legs.

Up, and down, up and down, and up, and down again. Pause. Repeat.

You can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but the idea of getting into shape and strengthening your body crossed your mind a few days ago.

Was it to be able to beat your boyfriend for once in sparring?

That would be unrealistic, thinking on it, considering how he went to godhood and back, and was reborn from his own fall from grace.

Pehaps it was to actually prove to him, that no, not all humans are so ephemeral and frail as he deems them to be.

Yes, that definitely makes more sense.

And maybe, somewhere inside of you, you just want to be a little stronger, because as attractive as Scaramouche looks obliterating enemies, you know how heavy your hypothetic hurt and loss hang over him.

So, with that thought spurring you on, you get back to your workout, some of the energy you’re expending slightly recovered with this re-discovered motivation.

Unaware to you, a pair of vibrant violet eyes have been watching you for a while. The smile painted on his porcelain-like features speaking the words his eyes conceal behind the curtain of dusk that is his hair.

Leaning against the wall and with arms crossed over his chest, the wanderer decides he can indulge for a little longer in the sight of you.

That is, until a familiar child-like voice interrupts him.

“Oh, so they are the one you cherish!”

His cheeks dye in the color of Zaytun peaches at that statement, his figure leaning off the wall in a flurry.

“Shhh, Lesser Lord Kusanali, please not now!” He whisper-shouts.

Nahida gives him a closed eyed smile, as if she hadn’t completely gotten through his practiced haughty facade.

Then, her inquisitive viridian eyes flit to you and to the ex-harbinger again.

“You know, it’s okay to show them your support. They’ll appreciate it, I’m sure!” She encourages him. “It’s the same as when you cultivate flowers.” She gestures with her small hands. “No colorful petal can truly bloom without love, in the same way no fruit will ripen without sun or water.”

And Scaramouche isn’t sure if it’s because of his mentor’s wise words, or because you look like you’re about to pass out from dehydration; but next thing he knows, he’s walking towards you with a bottle of Harra fruit juice in hand.

“When will you learn to take care?” Your wanderer scolds, at the same time his cheeks mirror the warm rays of the low sun in the horizon.

ALBEDO

Oh, he’s smooth. Like, he doesn’t even have to try to make you flustered.

And the best thing is, sometimes (when he wants to, that is) he looks innocent while at it, because he truly cares and means well.

Rest assured, once you either tell him you want to exercise or he finds out, the chief alchemist is getting his hands on every fitness book he can find.

Albedo will come up with a full training program tailored to your needs and goals in a matter of a few hours.

He’s very supportive and reassuring but please, don’t let him get ideas for his experiments, unless you want to receive (affectionate or not so affectionate) complaints from a certain blond traveler, namely, his frequent test subject.

“Fascinating,” Your lover muses, a huge manual on physiology of the human body held in between his hands. “According to this study, Dragonspine reunites all the ideal conditions to make your training more demanding, which will result in it being all the more effective…”

You can’t help but let out a giggle at how immersed into this Albedo seems to be. Sure, you did mention to him you’d like to do some physical conditioning to perform more efficiently in combat, but you didn’t intend to be subjected to a rigorous training program.

“Bedo, dear.” You begin, sitting across from him. “You don’t need to plan such a complicated schedule.” Your hand finds his over the table.

His skin is cold to the touch, yet it is not an unpleasant sensation. It always reminded you of the morning dew over the Cecilias at Snarsnatch Cliff.

Rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand you continue. “I just want to exercise a little bit more than what my usual commissions require, nothing too harsh.” You finish, softly, a tender smile etched on those lips that have warmed Albedo’s cold nights many a time.

“I know that, dearest.” He says, his fingers slotting in between yours. They always fitted perfectly, as if your hands entwined were the last two puzzles pieces containing the mysteries of this world the Chalk Prince yearns to solve.

“But, the cold climate and altitude here will make your daily commissions feel like a walk in the park.” He continues, his free hand dangerously traveling to your waist and down, and down, until it stops at the small of your back. “Wouldn’t you agree, my love?” Albedo questions, that devious smirk you can’t resist appearing on his face like fresh pink strokes of watercolor.

“Oh?” You return his grin, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, playing with the tips of his icy blond hair. “Is that really it?” You tease, your fingertips grazing the star shaped mark on his neck. “Or is my prince eager to spend more time with me?”

“I won’t lie to you.” The alchemist answers, those cerulean eyes of his gleaming mischievously, akin to late stars in the dawn, before leaning in to close the distance between your lips.

You guess this might as well count as a workout session, with how wildly your heart is beating.

XIAO

Sweet baby Xiao, who is probably going to need more reassurance than you.

Why are you suddenly putting your body through such efforts? Are you going to leave him? Is he no longer useful enough to protect you?

Please, please, let him know it has nothing to do with it. Xiao’s gone through so much both physical and emotional pain, he doesn’t understand why you would willingly exhaust yourself like this.

You’ll probably have to sit him down and patiently explain how some moderate exercise can help you feel more energized and less tired on your day to day activities.

Once he understands, however, he’s very, very supportive!

Will always keep an eye on you, making sure you don’t overexert or stay out too late practicing; carries you back to Wangshuu Inn if you overdid it and is always nearby keeping any monsters at bay.

“Working out?” The adeptus repeats, a frown creasing his forehead, his lips forming an all too adorable pout. “Are you in danger? Is anyone after you?” Xiao asks, his golden orbs widening, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“No, Xiao, it’s nothing like that, my love.” You reassure him, one of your hands reaching out to cup his cheek. “I just want to get stronger, you know? So that I can be better in battle and feel more energized.

Battle. As much as Xiao knows you can hold your own in a fight and trusts your skill, the yaksha doesn’t like the sound of that word, even less coming from your lips.

You shouldn’t have to worry about battles or fights, he vowed to protect you; he deems himself no more than a tool to keep you safe, the weapon that slays any unfortunate who dares harm you.

Do you not need him anymore? Is the question that lingers on his mind and that he can’t bring himself to ask.

Used to your yaksha’s mannerisms, however, you can sense his discomfort.

For someone who claims to deal in bloodbath and death, you’ve come to learn Xiao is about one of the most sensitive and gentle people you could meet.

“Xiao? Does this idea upset you?” You try, taking one of his hands in both of yours, removing his glove to reveal scarred yet tender skin, and sharp claws that hold you with the softness of qingxin and glaze lily petals.

“Maybe…” the conqueror of demons nods, his gaze cast downwards. “Do you…” he hesitates, the prospect of you confirming his deepest fears more painful than the karma he shoulders. “Do you… not need my protection anymore?” He finally manages to ask.

“Oh, Xiao…” With care, you hold his face in both your palms, guiding his sunlit honey eyes back to yours. “Of course I need you. I love you, Xiao.” You whisper, your tone delicate, as if any disturbance or too loud syllable could pop and shatter the little bubble encasing the both of you. “Me exercising and practicing more will not mean I’ll ever stop loving and needing you, baby.” You plant the most tender kiss he’s ever felt on the diamond shaped mark on his temple.

And even though still concerned for your safety and wellbeing, the vigilant yaksha’s heart has been soothed by the floral breeze of your affections tonight.

From that day onwards, it wasn’t rare to see a certain adeptus scanning Guili Plains more exhaustively than usual, especially when a dedicated fighter found themselves mastering the art of their weapon.

CHILDE

Flirty and competitive little shit (affectionate) but he’s actually helpful.

Will take any chance he can get to one up on you. Don’t hold it against him, though, he’s just childish (pun intended), and loves your pouty expressions a little too much.

Finds it so attractive when your breath is labored, yet you still keep going. That sight alone, truly ignites something in him, his usually dull ocean eyes reflecting a myriad of iridescent lights in all the shades that compose you; he feels the need to kiss you and become the cause you’re breathless and… (I’ll stop here before we enter spicy territory, but you get it).

Very caring. Ajax is not new to taking care of people, he has a big family, after all. And as much as he is quite the reckless adrenaline junkie, he doesn’t want you doing anything extreme or pushing yourself to your limits (he pushes you to the limit enough as it is, in all aspects ;).

You think Ajax’s insanity is starting to rub on you.

Sure, you’d like to get more fit and strong, but did you really have to grab your boyfriend’s bow for your first practice?

You sigh, your shoulders already sore from drawing the big bow again and again.

But as they say, no pain, no gain.

At least you are grateful for Polar Star’s soft and supple handle, it keeps your hands (mostly) free from blistering.

You ready yourself, a look of pure concentration on your eyes, set on the target. You aim for the bull’s eye, drawing your elbow backwards, in a way that you hope resembles how Childe does it in battle.

You can picture the arrow’s trajectory, its tip infused in the vibrant hue of your vision, a perfect arch cutting through the skies above in a parable of elemental energy set for a single pinpoint destination.

You take a deep breath.

In, and out.

Then…

An all too familiar (and quite obnoxious, right now) chuckle makes your focus dissipate, akin to ocean waves lapping at the shore, dragging sandy architecture and paintings into lightless depths.

“And just what,” You begin, turning around, deep frown creasing your eyebrows. “Do you find so funny, Tartaglia?” You point the index finger not holding his bow at his chest. “Care to tell me?” You spat, wisps of venomous smoke stoked by your fiery annoyance tainting the edges of your voice.

Childe stands there, looking at you like the idiot in love he is, dumb dopey smile plastered on his unfairly kissable lips.

“Sorry, you’re so cute, sweetheart.” He manages in between chuckles.

You want to smack him over the head with his own bow, but you contain yourself: you really don’t want his weapon to get damaged, after all.

Instead, you settle for punching him on the arm, with less malice than your pout suggests.

“Do you want to see how cute I’ll look after i shoot an arrow through that empty head of yours, Childe?” You retort, arms crossed over your chest.

“Heh, I’d like to see you try, darling. Don’t you think I can’t dodge.”

At his answer, you throw your hands into the air, exasperated.

And, even though Ajax loves teasing you and sparring with you, he doesn’t really like making you angry, especially when you’re trying hard.

“But instead of that,” the harbinger starts, taking the bow from your hands. “How about I help you? You know, weapons are really personal things, what works for me, might not work well for you or another person.”

He likes how your eyes sparkle at his suggestion, your undivided attention prompting the ginger to continue.

“It’s true we can master any kind of weapon, but you need the right one for you, no matter which type you choose.”

The warrior’s calloused fingertips brush a strand of hair away from your face.

“So, how about finding the right bow for you? Sound good?”

“Fine…” You breathe, completely lost in the way the last rays of sunshine catch in the deep lakes of his gaze. It is not a sight you get to witness often, and you treasure it immensely.

“Alright!” Your boyfriend nods, picking you up, bridal style, relishing in your squeals and giggles as you both walk into the sunset.

KAEYA

Flirty little shit number 2, except instead of being helpful, he ends up distracting you more than anything.

He makes up for it in support, though. Granted, he teases you a lot, but he’s also your number one cheerleader.

Very touchy and affectionate, will not pass up any chance to leave a kiss here and there, or hold onto your waist.

Loves joining you in your workout sessions and matching outfits with you.

Very vocal, Kaeya compliments you a lot and always has words of encouragement to offer, no matter how completely exhausted or weak you feel.

You swear this is unfair.

He is being unfair.

He knows all too well what he’s doing and he must have had this planned from the moment he offered to help you with your sit-ups session.

“How about I hold your legs in place, my darling?” The cavalry captain suggested in an all too enticing and sultry tone. “Won’t that way be easier for you?”

And of course, you had to go and agree.

Like the fool for him that you are.

So now, you have to have his tempting lips practically shoved in your face every single time you do a sit-up.

You reap what you sow, as the saying goes, you chide yourself internally.

But oh, he’s so not helping at all. Pouting like that every time he keeps count, icy eyes half lidded, the frozen galaxies in them beckoning you closer to his presence.

“And fifty!” Kaeya finally exclaims, when you do the last one of the planned exercises for today. “You did great, my sweet.” The cavalry captain smiles, innocently, as if he wasn’t the main reason your face feels like it’s on fire right now.

“Why, thanks.” You reply, rather bluntly, uncapping the water bottle he just handed to you. At least you are grateful he had the decency to cool it with his vision beforehand. Throwing your head back, you take a long sip. Then:

“You volunteered to help and yet, you’re aware you didn’t make this easy in the slightest, aren’t you?” You accuse.

“My, whatever could you mean, hm?” Your boyfriend taunts, two slender fingers holding your chin in between them. “Or is my precious partner in need of some affection?”

“Oh you…” You whisper, the warmth in your heart overpowering how unnerved your knight makes you feel sometimes.

“Yes, my love?” That look of feigned innocence again.

You huff, defeated. But the smile tugging at the corner of your lips makes it quite obvious you are, indeed, very much needy for his touches and kisses.

Let’s just say, from the instant Kaeya’s hands found your hips up until the moment you’d find yourself laying down in his idyllic embrace, you got an extra work out session.

ARATAKI ITTO

Very supportive, but for the love of the archons, don’t ever let him join you.

Seriously, Itto is all heart and good intentions, but sometimes he doesn’t realize his own strength.

What to him feels like just some stretches, it might be for you the equivalent of running a marathon with a 10 kilogram heavy backpack on.

Practically worships you and the ground you walk on, though. He’s your biggest hype-man.

The trembling on your arms intensifies as you reach the end of your training session.

You hope Katheryne doesn’t have any too difficult commissions for you in store tomorrow: right now, you doubt you’ll be able to hold your weapon steadily.

You are proud of yourself for reaching your goal today, a gentle, albeit tired, smile making it to your sweaty features as you finish with some meditation and stretches.

The inazuman coast is so serene at this time of day, with the sun dipping behind the horizon, beams of purple and crimson striping the dusk sky.

A sigh escapes your lips, for this peace is always short lived. You wouldn’t have it any other way, however, you love your loud and boisterous oni too much for that.

A few more instants of tranquility pass, the late sunshine fading into luminous constellations riding in the faraway horizon, the crescent moon smiling down at two figures approaching your location.

“Boss! Please! Be quieter, now! It’s late and you can’t disturb the citizens at this hour.”

A knowing smile mimics that of the milky crescent lighting up the indigo infinity above you. You really admire your friend Shinobu’s patience.

“But Shinobu! [Y/n] will be so proud of me when I tell them about how the One and Oni Itto was proclaimed supreme king of the Great All-around Arataki Onikabuto and TCG Championship!”

The girl pinches the bridge of her nose, having had enough of her boss’s antics.

As soon as he spots you, Itto starts waving his big hands energetically, calling your name repeatedly, to Shinobu’s chagrin.

“Itto!” You run to his side, weakly hugging his broad torso. “Why don’t you tell me about today as we walk back home?” You propose, talking in a low voice.

His eyes sparkle excitedly. Sometimes, he reminds you of an adorable puppy; for someone over six feet tall, your oni boyfriend really is sweet.

“But… can I ask you to carry me, please?” You look away, slightly flustered. “Push ups are still a little hard for me.”

That night, the deputy leader of the Arataki Gang had a relaxed night, as she watched the retreating figures of an oni and his lover animatedly recounting the day’s many events.

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