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#and they'd be like 'well what if this is something that happened to lock' and id be like 'how could that be something that anyone would
akutasoda · 1 day
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For the 1k event can I request angst hcs with the demon bros with a fem mc whos a fallen angel but with mauled wings? Like we’re talking loose feathers and flesh sticking out bonus if they randomly met her in the forest
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bloody damnation
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synopsis - when they meet a fallen angel in unfortunate circumstance
includes - lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor
warnings - fem!reader (no pronouns), heavy angst, very little comfort, body horror???, lots of blood, wc - 1.8k
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lucifer ★↷
↪as part of his brotherly duties, he had to go search the forest out back of the house of lamentation when one of his brothers ran inside claiming there was some 'horrid monster' lurking. creatures in the devildom normally didn't stray as close to the house so he immediately knew something was up.
↪although maybe he would've preferred you to have been 'a horrid monster' purely for the reason of the awkward situation you have placed him in. it's one thing to find some demon or creature with mangled parts, it was another to find an angel - or the reamins of one.
↪your once beautiful, silken wings lay crumpled and tangled in a mess behind you. he could practically smell the blood, see it too as it stained the grass beneath you and soon covered by the white feathers that turned darker as they hit the ground.
↪for obvious reasons, lucifer reluctantly brought (snuck) you into the house and hid you in his room until he managed to get hold of diavolo to sort out your situation. however he knew he couldn't just leave your wings in such a state, it looked like it hurt and he couldn't imagine they'd heal prettily if left like that.
↪he once had beautiful wings, some say he still does. so he knew how important keeping wings in a good condition was and so he managed to convince you to let him provide a basic, temporary solution to your wings. he hardly wanted to know what happened for you to fall let alone fall and end up with your wings in such a condition so he remained silent.
↪bu the time diavolo arrived, lucifer had performed basic healing magic and bandaged your wings to allow the membranes to heal inside your wing. he could think more clearly about the situation of having a fallen angel in the devildom knowing your pain had been limited for now.
mammon ★↷
↪mammon had decided to sneak out again and somehow lucifer found out and was actively searching for him. so he decided that sneaking through the dense forrests on the outskirts would be a good way to avoid lucifer and sneak back in - hopefully convincing lucifer he'd never left.
↪the smell of iron hit his nose and made him stop in his tracks. it dawned on him that he had no idea where he really was and so his mind decided that the blood was because some vile creature was feasting nearby - maybe he'd become the next victim? but when nothing showed signs of appearing, he kept moving forward until he halted at the sight of the blood.
↪he never knew there could be so much blood in one place. the grass was practically a sea of crimson and i the middle was a brutal mess of white that covered what appeared to be a body. mammon felt sick to his stomach at the sight, especially the bits of flesh that clung to your feathers like parasites.
↪now mamon was greedy, he could save himself from your sorry sight and leave or he could do something for you. fortunately mammon could be more kind that greedy at times so when he finally realised just what you were or used to be, he knew he couldn't just leave you to bleed out on the forest floor of unfamiliar territory.
↪he didn't mind recieving a scolding from lucifer when he emerged from his hiding, mainly because lucifer was too stunned to see you in his brother's arms as mammon asked for him to help you. mammon knew how scary it was to fall, he helped his brother and now he wants to help you.
leviathan ★↷
↪it was a well known fact that levi spent most of his days locked inside his room. he barely went outside unless it was for RAD or absolutely necessary for him to leave the sanctity his room provided. however sometimes he'd have to leave his room but he never dwindled around.
↪levi was desperate to get home, it had been a long day at RAD and he finally managed to snag a limited edition item from a store on the outskirts of the devildom. all he had to do now was get back with his purchase in perfect condition. he practically jumped out his skin when he heard a scream from further beyond in one of devildom's forest beside him.
↪he knew he shouldn't walk into a dodgy forest after hearing a scream - it was like every horror troupe! but surely a peak couldn't hurt after all what if someone was hurt? not that he'd normally care all that much but something felt different, more serious.
↪and he was right, the sight wasn't pleasant by all means. the remains of what could only be an angel thrasing around desperately trying to subdue the bleeding that was a constant stream of crimson. levi felt sick, by no means was it your fault but he just couldn't stand the sight of your flesh and feathers mixing together.
↪he fumbled desperately trying to reach his d.d.d to contact lucifer for help but he felt absolutely helpless in the scenario. he had fallen once, sure it wasn't aa brutal as you but he could only imagine the fear you must be feeling - especially whe you're wings are practically falling off. but what could a lowly otaku like him do?
satan ★↷
↪on his way back from RAD, he had seen a rather adorable cat run past into a nearby forest and naturally satan followed. a part of him was convinced that maybe he would get lucky and find some sort of secret cat hideout in the devildom.
↪he found it rather alarming that the cat suddenly turned heel and ran back past him not to far fron a clearing. although when he looked into the clearing, he hadn't expected to see the fallen remains of an angel crumpled into the floor.
↪ originally he thought you looked absolutely ethereal, ironically the devildom's light seemed to highlight your features perfectly. however he quickly doubled back on his thoughts when he could see the mess that were you're wings. the crimson coated over what used to be a pure white, feathers had fallen and in their place was evidence of flesh that certainly shouldn't of been there.
↪he had always been curious and so showed no hesitation in stepping towards your poor form. the exhaustion from blood loss and the actual act of 'falling' was evident on your frame and so you barely paid attention to the approaching demon - perhaps he'd be kind enough to put you out of your misery.
↪satan knew you were still alive but he was stumped. did he just leave you here for something crueler to come along and finish you or did he help you?
asmodeus ★↷
↪it had been another late night for asmo, he had snuck out once again against lucifer's demand and asmo had spent some time at the fall. although for some reason he wasn't actually in the mood to be there no matter how hard he tried to convince himself to stay, so he had left way earlier than normal.
↪it was a rather quiet night all over devildom, way quieter than what asmo was used to seeing and so he figured he might as well just head back. or that was his plan until the sight of a rather deep crimson caught his attention. small drops lead into puddles and eventually the source lay at the edge of the outskirts of a forest.
↪asmo started panicking and immediately fumbled out his d.d.d to call atleast one of his brothers who may be able to help. he wasn't dumb and could recognise those wight feathers, he knew you used to be an angel because the greying feathers told him that you were no longer welcome back in the celestial realm.
↪he took great pity on you. he was sure you would've beeen a stunning angel but know you were reduced to nothing but a former shell - just like him all those years ago. he took cautious steps toward you but it became clear that exhaustion had taken over you, oh how he wishes he could help you return to your former beauty.
beelzebub ★↷
↪it had been another late fangol game. the other team had put up more of a fight than beel's team anticipated and the matches dragged on and on. once the game had finished he informed his brother's that stayed to watch that they could go home without him as he'd still be a while.
↪he didn't mind walking home on his own at all or atleast until he closed nearer to the house of lamentation and saw a very concerning amount of blood trailing off into the closest forest. beel was a kind soul at heart and if somebody was hurt, he'd want to help.
↪although he wasn't exactly prepared to find a bleeding angel at the end of the trail. the sight of you and your mangled mess of feathers, flesh and blood was by no means pretty. he approached you carefully but he could tell that even if you did notice him, you didn't care. you were too exhausted to do anything but accept your fate.
↪beel felt pity when he watched your slumped form crumple to the ground, he did rush over and checked if you were alive. one minute you had been laying face down in youe own blood, the next some stranger was carrying you away and before you're mind slipped into darkness you heard multiple voices as somebody laid you down on a rather comdy surface.
belphegor ★↷
↪the avatar of sloth wouldn't be the avatar of sloth if he didn't spend most of his time lazing around or sleeping. he rarely went out without nearly falling asleep many times. but sometimes the house of lamentation gets too loud. way too loud. normally he just goes into the attic but between mammon being ounished by lucifer and satan going through a rage, he'd rather not.
↪the forest behind the house was normally quiet and no unwanted creatures normally came near as they also seemed to fear lucifer. sure it wasn't the attic but he was tired and needed one minute of peace without fearing that satan would wreck through the entire house or lucifer would do the same trying to catch mammon. he didn't plan to be long but the unpleasant smell of blood quickly hit his senses.
↪out of weird curiosity, he followed the smell and he wished he didn't. he stared at you as a flurry of emotions swirled inside of him. was this what pain lillith had to endure when she was forced out of the celestial realm? no, no she was sent to the human world, surely it was painless physically? all belphie could do was stare awkwardly at the bloody mess that was you.
↪he could hear your laboured breathing and could see the amount of pain you probably were in, yet he froze. the right thing to do would be to go alert his brother's of your presence but he doubted they wouldn't be much help right now but he could barely help you himself.
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akutasoda's 1k event
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henrysglock · 3 days
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You Speak Basic, Doc?
So. As a follow up to this post about the 2.08/2.09 HNL lights, I want to talk about something Wilbur just brought up in the server:
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Very good fucking question. Why did he leave? And how did he end up in the stairwell that leads down to the basement?
Specifically, it's the same stairwell Bob just went down to reset the breakers and take the lab off lockdown:
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(Which also, coincidentally, seems to be the same one El runs down in NINA to get to Henry and the tunnel out of the lab)
So...okay, cool. He was on his way to or from the basement after having left his little safe space in the upstairs security room.
That, however, brings me to another question: What is there for Owens to do in the basement?
Bob, as I said, went down there to reset the breakers and unlock the doors, because when the power cuts in HNL, the doors all lock. It's a lockdown.
So really...what else is there to do in the basement, besides no-scope demodogs and go "ooh" at the weird, pulsing mega-pussy gate? Owens doesn't have a gun, and he's been staring that weird, pulsing mega-pussy gate in the face for like a year now. Which means...it's probably not that.
So...could he have been trying to reinstate the lockdown by flipping the breakers Bob had fixed?
Well. Let's think about the "why"s of that.
First off, Owens knows firsthand that a lockdown isn't going to do shit against the demodogs.
A) The tunnels already allow them to circumvent the lab exits. Owens is aware of said tunnels.
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B) The demodogs can smash through polycarbonate. Owens literally sees one do so.
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So they could easily just tear right through any doors in their path. A lockdown makes no sense...for creatures.
No. Lockdowns are primarily for humans.
In fact...If I had to bet, the lockdown protocol in HNL has to do with the whole "keeping people from escaping the child torture basement" thing we see in ST4.
But...the prison-basement ended with El in 1983, right? So the question remains: What would Owens be locking down in the basement, and why hide his reasons for going downstairs?
Unless, of course, the prison-basement didn't end in 1983. And, of course, unless there's something worth securing down there that we're not yet privy to.
And along those lines: Why are so many demodogs staying in HNL? Why concentrate in the lab, when the tunnels will take them anywhere under Hawkins in pursuit of Will? There were more than enough to spread out and search. If it was about guarding the gate against El, they'd just leave some at the entrances, or swarm wherever she happened to be (which is where Will is, coincidentally). I thought Vecna could read minds even without an open gate. If he's supposedly involved in this...then why not just swarm the Byers house? Why still concentrate in the lab after they find out where Will is?
That is to say...what are they looking for, specifically in HNL, after they've found out that Will's left the building?
TL;DR: Owens...there wasn't someone down there that you needed to lock down, right? Someone to be retrieved later? Someone the democreatures might have a vested interest in finding?
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writhe · 1 year
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#TAGS TLDR YOU CAN NEVER TRULY GO HOME BUT DO YOU WANT TO?#writing a little for d&d and having feelings about this#it was really interesting jasper and i were working on some game mechanics and we kept getting stuck at weird parts and it developed into#this conversation where we realized we experience the world#in such fundamentally different ways. like specifically talking about how paranoia#manifests and stuff but even later in a broader sense like our experiences of time and everything is so different#and they'd be like 'well what if this is something that happened to lock' and id be like 'how could that be something that anyone would#experience' and they were like 'oh because i do'#(example here was my character not realizing he had been magically transported and filling in the blank with vague memories of travel but i#was like. are you not acutely aware of every single moment you are awake and in motion even if it is excruciatingly boring. and jasper#was like. 'oh...no. i could be transported from one place to another and if time passed i wouldnt even think about having traveled or not'#which was WILD to me but then we were like 'okay i guess this cannot be something that happened to lock' because i couldnt even fathom that#but like anyway idk we got weirdly deep dive-y about d&d stuff and personal lives and i had big feelings on it bc genuinely i feel like#there are facets and caverns in myself i have only ever touched in storytelling but particularly in this campaign#and i've joked a lot about Lock and other chars in this game being self inserts#but i mean it in a good way#like the ways we tell stories or experience a world we created together is going to be through an extension of ourselves etc#but it's interesting to me to consider the limitations that brings yknow? we all live by such vastly different sets of rules and#understandings#and im writing out some stuff now and im like. yknow.#lock can never truly go home. i can never truly go home. none of us can ever truly go home#home as shifting impermanence home as transience etc#2017 levi is back apparently but hes always been right
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fordaryl · 4 months
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REMEMBER.
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minors dni. 2.6k words. smut. daryl dixon x fem!reader. protective daryl. hint of size kink. strength kink.
It's easy to forget his strength when his touch is always so gentle. When you're safe, he lets you forget everything he's capable of; the reason you've both made it this long.
Safety lets you forget.
And then—when it inevitably all it all goes to shit again—you remember.
"Get in!" he calls through the wall of bodies separating you. He keeps the attention of most of them, but there's a few stumbling in your direction—too many for you to handle alone. "Now!" he shouts as he takes another growling walker down.
It goes against every instinct you have—to leave him to fight this alone. But this was his domain. This was when you did whatever the fuck he told you to do. It was how you survived.
You drag the door of the container open, grunting as the heavy metal fights back. It's a makeshift prison cell, one that was supposed to be filled with live bait for the walkers. It would be if it weren't for Daryl. He was almost single-handedly dismantling whatever fucked up enterprise you'd both stumbled upon.
One of them reaches you before you'd manage to push the gate open enough to slip through.
One is fine. You can handle one.
Turning around to deal with it gives you a split second to check in on Daryl. He's making a dent in the mass of bodies, but it's not enough. Not with the shouts of the living making their way closer.
You kick the walker you've knifed back into the mass of bodies approaching, giving you just enough time to slip through the crack you've made in the sliding door and slam it closed behind you.
Locking it is another story.
You have no hope of accomplishing that.
Still, it's enough for now. It's enough to let Daryl keep his focus where it needs to be as you deal with as many as you can through the bars.
Then one gets shot down. Daryl, is your first thought. But then two are shot down at once. And then the voices reach your ears. Voices are bad. Walkers you can handle. The living was another story. Nothing stoked the fear constantly simmers in your gut like the voices of the living.
They shout over each other, calling directions as they pick off the mass with a spray of bullets. You can't see Daryl anymore. He's either dead or hiding.
Hiding. Hiding. Hiding.
You shift back into one of the dark corners of the container as the shouts draw nearer.
“What the fuck happened?! Don't shoot them you dumb fucks! Get any you can back into holding!”
Any second now... any second they'd find Daryl and your world would end. The living were different. The living were monsters of a different kind.
"They're bunched up around this one!" someone shouts.
You hold your breath.
"Well check it out then!" another demands.
Oh, fuck. You grip your pistol. Your aim was decent. You could take one out, maybe two. But there's a whole group... and they were coming for you.
You scramble to the other far corner as the last of the walkers are cleared from the entrance, hoping to take advantage of the darkest shadows. Daryl would be watching... waiting. Any extra moment you could give him could be vital.
"You better come out now," a man calls from outside. He's just out of your sights, prepared for you to be armed and ready to fight. You'd hoped to have the element of surprise. "I ain't asking."
You know what'll happened when they find you. It's the same thing each time. You're prey to people like these—something to hunt in a world without consequences for that kind of thing.
Your silence buys you less than a minute before the first of them are dragging the metal gate open. If you shoot, they'll shoot back. It's not something you'll survive cornered like this. So you bet on them being the same as the rest. You let them know you're prey.
"Please," you call, as meek and afraid as you can manage—vulnerable. Not a threat. "I'm—I'm unarmed."
Then a bright light blinds you.
"What the fuck?" one of them exclaims. Then, "Where'd the fuck this little thing come from?"
There it was. Little. Thing. You were nothing. You're not a threat. You'd bought Daryl more time.
"Come on out, girl. Come on." They call you like you're a dog, something less than human. That's how they see you. Something to use.
You take a small step forward, still blinded by their flashlights. Daryl was alive. He was alive and hiding and he was waiting for something.
You just had to stay alive.
"What do you... want with me?" you ask, still taking tiny steps towards the light. Weak. Vulnerable. No threat.
You get muffled laughter in response. Guards down. Distracted.
"What do we want? We want a little fun, honey. That's all. Just a bit of fun."
They're flash lights drop as you approach the entrance. They've pulled the gate all the way across.
Five. You count five. If you kill two...
"Why is she alone?" one of them questions. He's younger, a little less distracted.
The rest ignore him. Then one of them has you by the arm, dragging you the rest of the way out of the makeshift cell. They're hands send a wave of repulsion through your body as they grab at you, pulling you around and shoving you in front of them. They may as well be the undead the way their touch feels against your skin.
The young one doesn't move out of the way when you reach him. Instead he stares into you, suspicious and angry. "Who are you with?" he asks. Even then, his gun is lowered. Even to him you aren't a threat.
"Get the fuck out of the way," the man gripping your arm says, clearly irritated and impatient.
"But—"
"Now."
His eyes narrow, but then he steps aside—his back pressed to the wall to let the rest of the men past. It's now that you get a look down into the pit of walkers, the one's they've managed to recapture rather than take out. They reach up towards you, hands grabbing for you.
Then, only a few steps later—you're stopped. The man with his hand wrapped around your elbow leans over your shoulder, his rancid breath invading your nostrils as he speaks. "You alone?" he asks. "You tell me right now."
You blink away the burn threatening to pool tears in your eyes. Were you alone? If you were...
The man's grip tightens, the only warning you get before you're forced to your knees and staring down into the pit of hungry walkers. "Speak," he demands, nails carving into your skin. "I'd hate to waste you like this."
There's two other men behind you. Three surrounding you in total. You could take one out for sure. They hadn't even searched you for weapons. They expected nothing out of you at all.
But then there'd be two, only counting the ones in reaching distance. How long would it take the other two further away to aim their guns in your direction?
You were dying tonight if Daryl was dead, that was certain. Your only hope was that he was waiting and watching... but what would he be waiting for...
Your pistol sits at your hip, a comfortable weight.
You take a deep breath. You could wait to die. Or fight now and hope that's the moment he's waiting for... if he's waiting at all.
The man holding you drops to one knee behind you. He leans over to speak in your ear. You wouldn't need to rely on your aim for the first kill, only any that followed. It was a headstart you weren't likely to get again. You reach for your pistol and before the man can open his lips and taint your senses with his rot once more, you shoot him through the underside of his jaw.
Your ears ring as his body drops. But you were ready. The men behind you aren't.
You were nothing. Prey.
The few seconds that affords you are priceless. You manage to shoot one more through the head before he can get hands on his own weapon.
The third is another story. His gun is pointed at you for what must be milliseconds. They drag though, those moments with an enemy weapon pointed at your head always do.
But then Daryl is there, strangling the man with a rifle and shoving his body into the ground with a force that reverberates through the metal. It's only when he snaps the man's neck you spot the bodies behind him.
He'd been waiting for you.
You watch him stand, hair hanging in his face and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.
Then his eyes are on you.
Then his hands.
Those hands... the same ones he'd used seconds earlier to break a man's neck. His fingers are feathers across your skin as he brushes the hair back off your face. "Okay?" he asks, soft and a little shaky.
You nod.
"You did good," he says, that deep gravel back in his voice. "So good, sweetheart." His hand makes a trail down to your neck, gentle and slow over your pulse point to rest at your clavicle. "We gotta go," he says. "Stay close for me, yeah?"
—————
The first time after is always the same—after you're forced to remember. It adds something to the way his gentle hands feel as he reaches over your hips to dip between your legs. To the way his body feels pressed up behind yours.
His thick fingers slip between your slick folds as he holds you tight against his chest. Heat. It's an overwhelming heat. He crowds you, practically curled around you.
"You like that sweetheart?" His voice is almost sweet as his lips graze your ears and his long hair tickles your skin. "Huh? You like that?"
You nod with a small whine, pressing your hips back into him—desperate.
He sighs, finger prodding over and over at your swollen entrance—a teasing little hint of what's to come. He dips in slightly, his calloused fingertip pressing into your slippery, spongy entrance just enough to have you whimpering his name.
"Fuck," he grunts. "You need me here? Huh? You all fuckin' empty?"
"Yeah," you whine with a desperate nod. "Empty."
His grip around your ribs tightens for a moment before he's pressing you into the ground—cushioned by the few blankets you carry. He's rolled you onto your belly as he covers you completely, his warmth seeping into your skin from his calves to his hot breath on your neck.
"What do you need?" he asks. As if he doesn't know; as if he didn't always know.
"You."
"Hm?" he hums, sweet and coaxing. "How?"
You reach blindly to find his wrist, gripping it firmly. "Hold me tight," you gasp between jagged breaths. "Please... Please."
His weight is heavy over you as he drops his lips to your neck, a silent acknowledgement of your pleas.
Then he's scooping you up, lifting you and rearranging you exactly the way you want him to. Because he fucking knows.
He has you pressed to his chest with your tits against his skin as he lays back into the makeshift bed you've created for the night. His arms wrap around you, one across your shoulder blades and the other around your waist—secure and firm. His fingers press sporadically into your skin a little more than needed, like he's testing his grip on you; like he's testing he has you in his arms good and tight.
Then he hooks one leg under yours, a gentle guide to part your legs just the way he needs.
"You ready for me, sweetheart?" he breathes against your temple as one of his hands leaves you. It's temporary, you remind yourself. He'd be wrapping you up securely as soon as he'd buried himself deep; once his cock was guided safely into your throbbing cunt.
You nip at his neck in response, chasing with a delicate lick at his salty skin. "Please," you ask softly.
Then he's adjusting you against him a little, ensuring you're exactly where he needs you to be. "I got you," he says as his leaking tip prods at your entrance. "Got you," he repeats. He mumbles this way as he teases; as he plays. This was what he did: pushed you to the brink of desperate sobs as he guides his cockhead over your slippery, throbbing cunt... over and over.... and over...
Saying he liked you needy was an understatement.
Then, eventually, he slips inside. Just the tip.. and not far. Just enough so that he can wrap his arms around you again. Just enough that he can have you whimpering his name as he prevents you grinding down to take him deep inside.
This is when he gives you a hint of his strength. It's easy to keep you from your goal, his strong arms pressing you into his torso a little harder each time you attempt to resist.
He keeps you there, just with a taste of that fullness—a taste of having him as close as it was possible to be. "Kiss," he says, simple and a little croaky.
You obey, pressing your desperation between his lips. It's messy and interrupted by moments where you simply need to breathe, heavily—his lips chasing yours as you attempt to catch your breath.
"Daryl," you gasp eventually. "Now. Please."
His grip around you tightens a little as you drop your face to his neck.
Then he pulls you down to meet his cock, to fuck himself deep. It's hard, exactly like you need it—exactly the way he knows you want it. You bite into his neck weakly as he keeps you there, stuffed full—the thick throbbing length of him stretching you out so completely.
Then, "Like that?" he asks, that sweetness back in his voice—like he's offering you a gentle back massage instead of holding you down on his cock.
You nod weakly in response.
His fingers press into your skin moments before he's moving, fucking himself with your cunt as he pulls you down to meet his messy thrusts. You're completely pliant like this, all control relinquished.
He's got you.
His breathing is quickly transformed into uneven pants as he attempts to grunt broken sentences into your ear. "Sucking me in... sucking at my cock with your messy little cunt... aren't you, baby? Hm?"
One of his hands moves to your hair occasionally, a temporary and seemingly subconscious attempt to get a better grip—or just to hold you closer. His fingers tangle in the strands, never tugging hard—never hurting.
"My girl," he grunts. "My needy little girl."
It's only when he's nearing his end that he flips you onto your back and you get a real display. He grips your hips and tugs you down to meet him as he uses you, each thrust a slapping of skin and punching a helpless sound from your lungs.
Strength. Everything you've been forced to remember.
"Daryl," you gasp. "Daryl, fill me. Please."
His fingers dig a little more into your skin, his hair falling over his eyes. Then his lips part, a grunt... a broken, "Fuck."
He falls over you as he floods you, his cock twitching and pumping you full—just like you asked. But even then, even as he loses himself, he catches his fall—arms landing either side of your head to cage you in. "Got you," he gasps out between desperate lung fulls of air. "I got you."
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dr3c0mix · 4 months
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My Lovely Melody
Yandere!Rockstar x GN!Reader
CW: yandere is a playboy before he meets reader, suggestive (creepy) thoughts, minor obsessive behaviour
🎸 Axel's been in many relationships with both men and women alike, but all of his little flings felt nothing more than that, just flings.
🎸 And he was content with it, I mean being a famous rockstar meant lots of people wanting a chance with you and he indulged in that fact.
🎸 He could sleep with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have to deal with the commitment that comes with dating or any of that messy stuff.
🎸 So why the hell can't stop thinking about you ?!?!?!!
🎸 He scratched his head trying to make sense of it, his messy hair getting even more ruffled as he tries to get the image of your smile out of his head.
🎸 You were in a miscellaneous store full of alt clothing, trinkets and various other stuff when he walked in with his bandmates.
🎸 It was fairly normal when he came in the store. It was dim with some random punk song playing faintly in the background. His friends started exploring, looking at the graphic t-shirts and mugs shaped like skulls and the like.
🎸 He got a bit bored and wandered to the other side of the store. It had posters, candles and..who's that?
🎸 There you were, staring longingly at a plush toy sitting on one of the shelves, just standing there.
🎸 He didn't think much of it, probably just some person baked out of their mind. "Hey buddy, you doin' good?"
🎸 You snap out of your gaze and look at the big hulking man in front of you. You stutter out an apology and explain your little misfortune.
🎸 "So you want this..toy...but you can't afford it..?" He raises a brow at you as you nod, making him chuckle.
🎸 He thought for a moment, looking at the stuffed creature, well it wouldn't hurt to buy it for you, he's pretty well off from all the gigs and concerts he's been in so...
🎸 "How 'bout I buy this thing for ya then? But you owe me~" He winks, thinking he could score some quick sex for being such a 'gentleman'
🎸 But no, instead of a blush or a knowing smirk, you just looked at him with the widest, most innocent eyes he's ever seen, you were practically shaking with joy as he said it.
🎸 You thanked him profusely before listing off things you could do in return, treating him to some food, buying something for him in return, plain paying him back..he was a bit surprised.
🎸 "O-oh...uhm that was a joke heheh, y-you don't have to do all that babe..." He blushes.
🎸 The two of you head to the cashier, his friends spying from behind the aisles as his gaze is locked on the little ball of cuteness beside him.
🎸 Seriously? Did you even know who he was? This has never happened before...most of the time, he would pay for someone's drink or something and they'd be on his dick in seconds, but you, you were so..different...it felt nice..
🎸 You didn't even get it in a bag, you immediately took the plush after it was paid and hugged it close.
🎸 so cute so cute so cute so cute so cute!!!
🎸 "Hey uh..so me and my buds are in a band and uhm..wanna maybe..watch our next gig?" He asks nervously, he's never been so shy towards anyone!!
🎸 You agree, thinking it's the least you could do for what he did for you.
🎸 You take out your phone, Axel can't help but grin at the case, it was cute, like you~..
🎸 "Here's my number if..you need it.." You smile at him, that smile..that damn cute smile...you had his heart wrapped around your finger at this point.
🎸 "Th-thanks sugar..I'll see you there.." He smiles back as you part ways, he heads back to his friends who were bombarding him with questions as he watches you skip out of the store with your new little soft friend.
🎸 That night, he was getting ready for the show when he got a message notification and sees that you sent a picture of the show from one of the seats with some text "Good luck out there!"
🎸 His face was on fire as he realized you were there, he peeks out in the crowd and there you were, your little plush toy in tow.
🎸 You look so out of place from the people in spiky jewelry and dark outfits, you were just in a hoodie and baggy pants, albeit the hoodie had a MCR design on it, but you can tell it was very soft compared to the rest of the audience.
🎸 Finally it was time for the show to begin and it was the most passionate he's been in a while, it seemed as if the words he was singing were dedicated to you and you alone.
🎸 The little glances at you made you giddy, like a friend seeing their bestie perform, you were cheering excitedly for him, not in a fangirly way, but one of genuine support and amazement.
🎸 After the performance, Axel tried finding you, but the crowd was too big and he assumed you must have left already.
🎸 Wait..why is he being so buddy buddy with you? You just met today! It's not like you two were best friends or anything!
🎸 He tried dismissing the thought of you, tried distracting himself by flirting with other people, but he could only think about you, and making you smile like that again..
🎸 no no no! get out of my head!
🎸 Maybe a little fling can ease his mind?
🎸 Even on his bed with some random girl after show, he can still think of you.
🎸 Would your skin be as soft? or maybe softer? How would your hair smell? He bets your moans would sound delicious..
🎸 shit FUCK!!
🎸 Even after his one night stand, he kept thinking of you
🎸 He stares at your messages, you sent a lot of pictures of your plush toy doing goofy things to him, so cute..so silly...he can't help but smile.
🎸 He decides to look you up on social media and..
🎸 Wait a minute...you make music too?
yep this was a bit short but idk man i love making you guys suffer <3 stay tuned for part 2 (i am actually out of ideas guys please request me please please ple-)
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shadow4-1 · 20 days
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I'm just imagining having spent the night with a lover who isn't in the 141, only to wake up the next morning and there's in intervention waiting for you in the rec room.
Like, at first you're just confused. But when Price opens his mouth to ask you about how you slept...you have a bit of a meltdown. Why does it matter? Why is everyone staring at you? What's going on?
Soap grabs the collar of your t-shirt and pulls it down so everyone can get a look at the dark hickies dotting your neck. You slap his hand away, tears in your eyes.
"So all of you can do whatever you want? Sneak bitches on base and fuck around at all the bars we pass through! But I'm not allowed to do anything with someone I actually like?!"
It hurts. It feels like you're being stripped bare in front of them.
Price sighs, his gaze softens. It's obvious he doesn't want to have this conversation but something you've done has given him no choice. Soap just stands a few feet away, chest puffed out, eyeing you with a strange annoyance. You know if you try to leave he'll stop you.
"You are...not in the same position as us." Price tries and winces. He's obviously not putting his thoughts into soft enough words, but he continues. "You are...it is our responsibility to keep you safe."
"Safe? You're trying to keep me safe?" Your voice is raised higher than you've ever raised it at Price. "Safe by what? Fighting off all the guys at the bars? Safe by spreading lies about me to all of the PMCs and the other Task Forces?"
Price just closed his eyes and set his jaw. He had to know about the subterfuge you'd been experiencing for well over a couple years now. Everyone in the room was guilty as charged.
"You're and asset. And you're also a liability." Ghost speaks up, eyes narrowed, stance way too relaxed against the metal folding chair he sits in. "Do you remember what happened to the 7th Division?"
Saliva pools in your mouth, a sudden queasiness filling your stomach. Yeah, of course you remembered. Their beloved medic had been kidnapped by a group of angry drug lords using a mercenary group as their muscle. The 7th Division had gone in guns blazing to get their member back and well...they'd been wiped out. And their star medic they'd sacrificed everything for? She'd been brainwashed and inducted into the very agency that stole her away.
KORTAC
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" You mutter. "Please tell me you're not."
"We can't have you fraternizing with anyone." Price states smoothly. "As our medic, you have a responsibility to us, your team. We can't have you getting caught up in something bigger."
"I understand what you're saying, but can't you see how ridiculous this is?" You try to reason. "I'm human, I have- god this is embarrassing. I h-have wants and...needs, just like you guys."
The silence is loud. You can't meet anyone's gaze. Price steps closer to you, swallowing hard. His next few words are spoken softly, conspiratorially.
"All of your needs will be taken care of. We will never let you suffer by yourself."
Price cocks his head to the men before you both. All of them straighten beneath his gaze. Price places a hand on the small of your back.
"Whatever it takes." He commands them. "I better not hear or see anything. Do I make myself clear?"
A trio of "yessirs" bounce off the white walls. Price just smiles and nods. He pats your back.
"There we go. You'll be fine." He sighs. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to your guest."
Your eyes widen, your throat drops into your stomach.
"Wait!"
"We've got ye, Bonnie. You n' all yer needs."
Six hands are on you from several different angles. Their massive frames block out the fluorescent lights.
"Ah, where are you goin'?" Gaz chuckles, his arm wraps around your belly.
You try to run after Price but the rec room door is slammed shut and locked. You try to push the closest man away, but he just grins down at you.
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yorsgirl · 1 month
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A Small Secret
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Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: To all, he came off as the brash, rude, bad guy. To you - he was a man in love.
Trope: cold to all, warm to you trope, established relationship
Warnings: non-explicit smut, fem!reader, shy!reader, soft!Sukuna, kissing, loss of virginity, soft sex, fingering, praise kink, healthy relationship, aftercare.
General Warnings: No curse AU, kinda OOC, usage of vulgar words, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.
MDNI - Minors do not interact!
Word count: 1k
A/N: this is me fixing up my mind after writing On such a full moon night (no need to read that to understand what's happening, both are separate tales). Like lmao, let's be honest that was traumatizing and I needed something sweet with my curse baby hence I wrote this.
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Ryomen Sukuna was many things but soft.
Whether it was the brutal remarks he threw at almost everyone or the way he'd just let his fists do the talking when anyone or anything displeased him.
Even in a bedroom, he didn't care about that or perhaps any softness. Sex for him was always rough, cause that got his adrenaline pumping, that brought him the satisfaction which he desired.
Bottom line: Sukuna Ryomen is not soft.
Asked from any of his previous flings if he'd ever been soft towards them? They'd laugh it off like some prank as in the answer isn't an obvious no.
Asked from you... well, you'd laugh too but begging to differ from that opinion.
Cause, you knew Ryomen Sukuna is capable of tenderness too.
You'd probably be ridiculed for making such a bold and (may I say) outrageous statement.
Stiffling a chuckle, you'd reminiscent the night you spent with him…
Oh, the way he lied you down on the mattress; Holding you like you were a China doll. You were so soft and fragille that he feared one wrong move and you'd break.
The way he gazed at you with absolute admiration and fondness.
And with your permission he leans in, pressing his lips to yours, catching you in a soft yet passionate kiss. His rough and calloused hands glided down your waist to your hips, as he continued to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck.
He undressed you, all so slowly, reminding himself over and over that it was your first time. A low whistle left his lips when he glanced down at your barely covered form and you'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous.
But the way he gazed at you - like an artist admiring his art. And how could he not? You were a masterpiece to begin with.
So beautiful. So gorgeous.
"Fucking perfect," He muttered under his breath, relinquishing all the doubts that clogged your head.
You gasped, gripping onto the bedsheets tightly when his fingers made contact with your clothed core. And Sukuna smirked, cooing at you, telling you how much wet you were for him.
Oh the way, he pulled your hand off your mouth when you tried to suppress your moans as he carefully pumped his finger in your dripping cunt.
No, nah, not in a million years is he ever going to miss your mewls while you laid under him.
His smirk grew when you moaned his name while his fingers hit the bundle of nerves. Just the right place. Your hips involuntarily pushed into his fingers, as you breathed hard, lips parted.
And damn, when he tasted you on his fingers. He could swear that nothing could taste sweeter, "You are a dessert on your own, baby."
Your cheeks flushed a bright red color, and when you tried to bury your face on your palms; you were quickly chided by Sukuna.
He would never miss any of your expressions.
Even then, you were scared...scared of the pain when the first penetration occurs. And he saw it in your eyes - the fear. He quietly leaned down, locking his lips to yours, tracing the skin on your forearm.
When it did happen...your eyes fluttered close as a loud groan slipped your mouth.
Sukuna waited, yes- waited. Waited for you to adjust, for the pain to subside. He caressed your cheek and held you firmly by the hips. All while looking at you with nothing but love, his hands glided down your body like he'd known this territory for years or more.
When you gave the signal, he started to move. His thrusts were slow at first, constantly checking if you weren't at any discomfort. Gradually, he picked up speed, still holding onto you just as tenderly as before.
Everything he did was just so raw and tender. All his touches, his kisses, everything.
"Mhm, taking me so well. Aren't you a natural at this, doll?" His red eyes met yours while you remained a moaning and whimpering mess. "Such a good girl."
He praised you more, from how gorgeous to just how good you felt taking him in.
It's like you were created for him...just for him.
And for once, they weren't empty praises. They meant more than he could ever let on.
For once, he didn't want to take, he wanted to give. He wanted you to feel just as good as you made him feel if not more.
For once, it wasn't just sex. For once, he wasn't just mindlessly fucking.
After it were over, he held you close, running his finger through your hair, the pad of his fingers grazing your scalp. Cleaning you up while all you wanted to do was snuggle up beside him and fall asleep.
When exhaustion started to pool in, you rested your head on his chest while his hand laid over your waist like a protective shield. He watched you fall asleep, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as he brushed off the hairs from your face.
The moonlight from the window, highlighting the outline of your figure. He watched you, his lips curled into a soft smile.
"So beautiful." His grip tightened around your waist, not enough to hurt you, but just enough to let you know about his presence. He pressed a kiss down your forehead when you stirred in your sleep.
Even then, between you both laid a small secret.
It wasn't just your first time today, it was his too. Cause, for the first time - Sukuna made love.
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blackkwidowed · 3 months
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Imagine kissing Nats bruises and scars after a mission and just being soft and showing her so much love.
I just wanna give Nat a hug tbh
just the entire concept of nat finding it so hard to be vulnerable around anyone but you is both heartbreaking yet the softest most adorable shit ever. here's a little drabble. some darker themes here as well i guess. also, best friend bucky? you got a taste of that here as well. also haven't proofread so sorry
When the few team mates arrive back off a mission, there's a dark, almost sad, atmosphere among them. Natasha, Bucky, and Clint had gone together for a few days to track something down. They'd come back early, empty handed, bruised, beaten down and overall, unsuccessful.
Natasha had looked the most upset. She hadn't been crying or anything, she just looked glum. She looked like she'd seen something no one wants to see.
Immediately you say your hellos to everyone, glad that they made it back safely and in once piece- albeit a few bruises and minor injuries. Something had happened out there.
You pull Natasha into your arms and there's something about the way she relaxes and sinks against you that makes your concern skyrocket. Fingers running through her hair, you cup the base of her skull in your hand and bring the other to her cheek for her to look at you. "What happened, my love?"
She sighs, the kind of sigh that speaks for itself.
"We found a group of kids. They'd all been locked up by these asshole guys we were trying to find. They'd been brainwashed. Beaten. Taken from their families and forced into whatever the hell kind of project that's been lined up for them."
You flinch, closing your eyes and repeating Natasha's sigh from before. You understand now.
"Got jumped by some security who've had training from God knows where. Good enough to get some hits in, put it that way." She cranes her neck a little, moves her hair out the way, enough to show the budding purple mark under her ear that's making it way across her jaw. "Powerful bunch, these guys. We're gonna need some more planning before we go back in there."
You nod in agreement, tracing your finger gently across the mark and pressing a soft, barely there kiss to the skin.
"Are you okay?" It comes as a whisper, gentle and only just loud enough for her to hear it. "I mean, I know you're not okay as such just. What do you need?"
She smiles gently at you, pushing herself closer to you again and resting her nose in the crook of your neck. "This is good."
You press a kiss to the side of her head, looking up at the guys who're now sat at the breakfast bar of the kitchen, also looking on like they've seen a ghost. You can't help but feel sorry for whatever they've seen, it takes a lot to have them left feeling like this.
You send Nat to your room, telling her you'll be up there in a moment and to get changed out of her suit. Quickly, you make your way over to the boys and rest a hand on each of their shoulders. "You need anything you know where I am, alright?"
They thank you thoroughly, Bucky even slinging an arm around your waist and squeezing lightly as a thank you. "Take care of her, yeah? I think, maybe, she's reminded of everything she went through. It's hit her, this one. Just take care of her."
Bucky's smile is laced with pain, heartache. You don't see him like this often either. You nod at him. "Of course."
-
What you find in your room is enough to make you angry. Nat's got a fair few bruises, and it makes you want to track down the bastard(s) that managed to leave such a mark on her soul.
She's sat on the end of the bed, glancing over the hand shaped mark on her arm where she'd been grabbed and thrown just hours earlier. She's not even mad that she let her guard down. Normally she'd be upset with herself, but she can't think about it.
You perch at the head of the bed against the pillows, beckoning her over in a gentle tone. She settles into your side and curls an arm around you tightly, as if she's frightened you'll leave. It only makes you grip her tighter.
Peppering gentle kisses to the side of her face, she sighs in relief and sinks somehow deeper into you, nuzzling into your neck. You're warm, familiar, comforting, you're everything she needs in a time of need.
"Thank you," she whispers against your skin.
"For what, baby?"
"Being here when I need you."
You smile softly, raising a hand to her face and brushing your fingers across her cheek. You kiss her softly, slowly, so gentle she has to pull you even closer so you'll kiss her firmer. Your lips move against hers and it might just be the highlight of Natasha's day, feeling you like this.
"You don't ever have to thank me. You know that's what I'm here for." You continue stroking her cheek, down her neck, and back up. Touches like this are her favourite. It warms her heart when she remembers the bruise on the side of her face, and the fact that your touch is so gentle against her skin that the contact with the bruise doesn't bother her even a little bit. "I love you."
Natasha hums softly, moving to lay on top of you now. She kisses you again, whispering against your mouth. "I love you."
You hold her close, hands running across her hips, fingers trailing up her back. She lays on you, nuzzled in and as close as possible. You don't ever want either of you to move, this is where you're content. This is your happy place.
She's relaxed now, happier, and you know today's at the back of her mind still but for a moment, she can forget about it. She feels safe now, comforted. You're her happy place, her everything, her lifeline. To her, you make it worth it.
"Get some sleep for me okay?" You murmur into her hair.
You feel her nod against where she lays on your chest. "Only if i can stay here."
You give a soft laugh, rubbing a hand up her back and tangling into red hair. "Always."
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months
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OKAY HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT.
Grandma cat!reader. Who was a old women who got experimented on and turned into a smiling critter but like the caretaker of the smiling critters.
Often seen walking around with a scruffed smiling critter hanging from her mouth(somehow-) and overfeeding the smiling critters or children.
How would a saved dogday and (maybe) good catnap react to the player bringing them to readers containment room. (She was locked in before the Hour of Joy due to something and just stayed there)?
I just want to see them get some sort of parental love 🥹😖
- Marshmellow🤍
I swear ya'll are gonna make me cry with these requests /nm <3
.....
Dogday
In your old age, you didn't wanna retire from Playtime Co. and spend the remainder of your life laying around, waiting for your body and mind to deteriorate.
So instead you became one of the few willing volunteers for the Bigger Bodies Initiative, being turned into a Smiling Critter (which made you especially happy since your grandkids adored the toyline and cartoon show).
In the show, the gang mentioned a grandma character several times (albeit she was unseen) and with Catnap being recalled from all promo materials, Playtime Co. took creative liberties and made you the newest feline replacement, fitted with a cinnamon scent and pie necklace.
Your tagline was something like "The Smiling Critters take care of our orphans, but who takes care of them? Why, their Grandma [Y/n], of course! She's full of love and wisdom!"
True to that, you became the caretaker of the Critters and children, ensuring everyone's fed well and staying out of trouble.
The incident with Bron (Thomas/Experiment 1199) had scientists rethinking how they'd introduce willing experiments to those...well..less-than-willing.
So you had a supervised introduction to the SCs (with children also present to discourage them from reacting violently). You were even given a containment cell you could retreat to in case of emergencies.
Luckily, you never had to use that room--as they accepted you and began calling you "grandma" since day one.
Dogday, especially, got attached to you.
You called him "DD" and "Doggy-Dearie".
Being a bit taller than the rest of them allows you to pick them up by the scuff of their necks if they're being too rowdy (Kickin and Hoppy, especially).
Even so, you're very sweet to all of them, letting them snuggle up to you as you shared stories and made them food so they could keep up with the little ones.
All was well in the Playhouse up until the Hour of Joy of course.
But you were unaware of it since Catnap sabotaged your room's lock, keeping you trapped to lower the Smiling Critters' morale.
Dogday was 100% convinced you were dead.
However you survived long enough for the Employee's arrival years later, never knowing what happened to the factory..
After rescuing Dogday, they find your door and powered it up, allowing the two entry into the perfectly intact space within.
Your fur was matted and you looked sickly, but you still jump up upon seeing the state your dear "grandson" was in.
It devastated you.
"My word..Dog-Dearie.." Your heart shatters. "Your legs..where are they? Where is everyone?"
Something inside of him ultimately breaks as he realizes you were alive...and you were here all along.
"G-Grandma...! Oh...god..I-I thought you were--" He crawls away from the Employee and towards you, sobbing into your lap. "You were h-here..this whole time! I-I wanted to see you, but..C-Catnap..he.."
"Shh, shhh..I'm here now, my sweet pup. It's alright." You hush, stroking his ears and resting a paw on his back, before looking to the Employee. "You must be terribly confused..as am I.."
After explaining your role--and calming Dogday down--the two tell you about what's happened to the factory, and at first you can't believe it...
Until you all wander through the Playhouse and see the horrid state it's in, but they're confused as to why none of the mini Critters attack you.
Only then do you mention feeding them over the years through little vents and holes in the walls, keeping their hunger moderately satiated.
Dogday feels awful, and even more upset at Catnap for lying about your fate.
But still, you don't show any ill-will towards any of the Smiling Critters, even if one of them had betrayed you all.
Instead you just let Dogday cling to you as you escape together and try your best to keep up.
Catnap
Like the rest of the Smiling Critters, Catnap considered you family and often went to you for snacks and such.
Or if he needs a break from trying to put all the rowdy orphans to bed in Home Sweet Home. Only then is he given permission to see you.
He always liked curling up in your lap, purring while you stroke his fur and tell him a story (which is sometimes an event from your old human life, albeit you do accidentally confuse yourself since ofc you're not supposed to remember any details of your old life).
The Prototype sees this as a problem, as Theodore Catnap was getting a bit too comfortable with his life here and needed a reminder of his mission....and so he tells him the truth.
About how you not only worked at the factory until you reached retirement age...but you were also a willing participant in the experiments.
And suddenly, he couldn't look at you the same way anymore. Only with resentment.
It wasn't fair.
You got to lead a long and fulfilling life. Theodore barely got the chance to grow up and be a normal kid.
You had the procedure and associated risks explained to you clear as day. Theodore never had the luxury of being warned ahead of time before he was grabbed and put under the knife after recovering from the incident with the green grabpack hand.
All he wanted was to free the others, but he ended up becoming their warden instead.
He almost forgot all of that because of you.
He refuses your food now, and you worry for him when you see how skinny he becomes as the months pass.
But he's very cryptic in the way he talks to you, the other SCs, and the staff...so you didn't know for sure what you did to upset him so much.
"Catnap, dearie..you're skin and bones. Let me-"
"I know what you were, and what you've become...the Prototype told me so."
You don't know what to say. What could you say when he kept talking about this "Prototype" person?
Despite his hatred, the SCs were conditioned to love you regardless, and so before the Hour of Joy Catnap decided to sabotage the locks of your containment room.
That way, he wouldn't be tempted to kill you...and he'd spare you from the grief of what he ends up doing to the other SCs, including Dogday.
Years later, when the Employee finally knocks some sense into him after saving him from being sacrificed to the Prototype, he takes them to your room, believing you to be dead from starvation.
Instead, though, they break you out and he discovers you're very much alive.
And Catnap just breaks down, groveling and begging for your forgiveness.
You were the one who always tried to reach out and comfort him, giving him some relief from the misery of being trapped in this factory....and he pushed you away.
But you don't hate him for locking you up, realizing that he still cared about you after all this time. Even when the Prototype told him about your past.
He wanted to keep you safe.
That alone proves he had a heart, and you reassure him of that as he cuddles up to you for a little while.
Once he's calmer, you go with him, Dogday (assuming he was saved), and the Employee to meet with Poppy and Kissy--both of whom are relieved to see you alive
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ddejavvu · 7 months
Note
hi hi, I loveee your animagus collection!! I was wondering if you could do one where reader appears all scratched up and injured cuz she got in a fight with another cat in her animagus form. thanks!!
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6
--
Sirius knows to expect your presence from your spot on the map that's moving hurriedly towards his dorm, a powerful stride from how you're blowing past other names quicker than they can step out of your way. He's glad that none of them seem to stop you or confront your seemingly abrasive speed, and he's equal parts curious and petrified when you finally burst through the door.
Most of it melts away though, heated and liquified and dripping into his stomach by a burning panic that seals itself around his heart and lungs instead.
Your face is scratched, lines of blood-red crust slowly darkening the more you expose them to the air. He's sure they'd dried and scabbed quickly as you'd stormed through the castle to find him, and he's worried they're contaminated before he's had the chance to clean them out.
"Darling," He stands abruptly, noticing similar scratches across the rest of you, and even a bite mark, pinpricks of violence and spit laid into your arm like twin red flags, "What- what happened to you?"
"I got in a fight," You grumble, and for all of the enthusiasm you'd had storming into the room, you stand there now, letting it leak out of you like air from a balloon that had once been close to popping.
"With who?" Sirius's brain does not register the conflicting statements; how a punch to the eye could result in fang prints in your forearm.
"Muffy," You spit the cat's name like a dirty word, emphasizing it's dull stuffiness, "She came and sat in my sunspot, and I was gonna let her share it, too, but then she started bitching at me to move!"
Sirius's limbs loosen from where they'd been locked tightly in place, and he remains standing where he has been all this time, watching you explain your tussle with astonished curiosity written on his face.
"I didn't, but then she started batting at me," You recall with bitter disdain on your tongue, the same sting that you'd felt when the other cat's claws had sunk into your fur, "Before I knew it, she was just going at me, like- like some fucking animal! Well- like- like some other kind of animal."
Sirius steps forwards to take your arm in his own, and inspect the only bite mark he can see. It's angry and vicious, though it doesn't look like there's blood seeping from it anymore, and he makes a mental note to disinfect all of your abrasions in case Muffy had indulged in something unsanitary for breakfast.
"I'm sorry, darling." Sirius says, both because he means it and because he doesn't know what else to say. It's teetering on the edge of absurdity that you managed to scrap with a cat and come away looking like you'd lost, and he wonders if you'd fled the scene on four paws, or two legs. Both would be comical to him if you weren't hurt, so he pushes the thoughts out of his head and steers you into the bathroom by what he hopes is an uninjured shoulder.
He sits you on the counter with ease, and from the hiss that you let out, the cool marble bites at the scrapes on the backs of your thighs. But they seem to mellow into a soothing effect, and you relax into them, your flesh flattening out as Sirius rummages through the cabinet below.
"Muffy's quite vicious," Sirius muses, rubbing disinfectant on a cut along your cheek, "This one might scar."
You groan, the sound nearly gruff enough to be a growl, "Oh, get her back for me Sirius, would you?"
"Get her back-?" His raven-black brows furrow, and he glances away from the cut up a few inches to your eyes, "What do you mean, darling?"
"I mean you're a big scary guard dog," You push pleadingly at his shoulder, "Just- snap your jaws at her, or something! Please?"
"I'm not sure Prewett would like it very much if I traumatized her cat," Sirius muses guiltily, but he's persuaded when you let loose the most devastatingly gut-wrenching pair of puppy eyes that he's ever seen, far more powerful than anything even his canine form could produce.
"Oh, fine," He sighs, his lips finding purchase at the bridge of your nose, in an awkward crevice between your brow-split and your eye, "Darling, you know I love you, but next time, please tussle with a cat that isn't so terrifying?"
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vivwritesfics · 23 days
Text
New Perspective
Bradley knew how it had happened. She told him that she'd never been eaten out, batted her pretty eyelashes at him and he was on his knees, face buried between her lips. But it had turned her into a pillow princess, Bradley eagerly diving between her spread legs whenever she asked. Something had to change
Warnings: age gap relationship, anal mentioned (not performed), oral (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimation, p in v, oral (male!receiving), face fucking, face painting, porn with 0 plot, cum eating
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Bradley knew how it had happened. It was third date. They'd gotten to the restaurant, had one drink, and immediately bailed. Instead they got takeout, some more drinks, and returned to his place.
It was there on the sofa, as they sipped their drinks and ate takeout, that she confessed. They'd been together physically only once before, during their last date. It was what had made her comfortable enough to admit this to the older man she was seeing.
"I've never... been eaten out before."
It was a game of sorts, listing the things they hadn't done, the things they wanted to do. It hadn't started out sexual, but when Bradley admitted that he had never done anal, she knew she had to up the ante.
Bradley blinked at her, a surprised smile on his face. "You're kidding," he had said, his hand settling on top of hers. "So, nobody has ever had their mouth on your pussy before?" He asked, his mouth twitching up in a smile.
She shook her head.
Bradley took her to the bedroom after that. Well, first he pressed his lips to hers, pressing her into the couch. She had moaned into his mouth, legs locking around his middle as he hovered over her.
As she began pushing his shirt off of his shoulders, he stood up, pulling her with him. Bradley took her to the bedroom after that. He carried her, hands under her thighs as he walked her the short distance to his bedroom.
He laid her down on his sheets and pulled her underwear down her legs, discarding them on his bedroom floor. Pushing her skirt up, he kissed down her thighs, his moustache catching on her skin, burning slightly in all of the right ways.
Bradley took his time with her that night. He kissed her inner thigh, as close as he could get without properly touching where she needed him. And then he licked through her folds.
She came several times from oral alone. Bradley made sure of it. The way her body jolted each time his nose bumped her clit, and the way her moans grew louder every time he brought her close. Each orgasm was one that had her legs shaking. It was incredible, an experience she never wanted to end.
That was until she was pushing his head away, sore, sensitive and overstimulated. Bradley planted one last kiss on her soaked cunt and her hips swivelled away from him.
He cleaned her up after that, giving her plenty of time to recover before he fucked her, his cock pistoning in and out of her again and again and again.
She lost count of just how many orgasms she had that night.
It became a habit after that. Every time Bradley kissed her slow, his lips travelling down her neck, she opened her legs and he buried his face between them. Every time she laid there while Bradley did all of the work. He had accidentally turned her into a pillow princess.
She was his princess though. At first, Bradley didn't mind. He loved hearing the noises she would make while she came on his tongue, loved kissing her lips while he tasted of her.
But then, one day as Hangman was bragging about his latest sexual exploits, Bradley realised something. By this point they'd been together for a good six months, if not longer. And, in those six months, he hadn't had his dick sucked.
It wasn't like he hadn't thought of it. He'd woken up several times, cock achingly hard after dreaming of her on her knees, drool running down her chin as he pushed his cock between her lips.
And soon, it was something he couldn't stop thinking about. When at the navy hangar, servicing the Super Hornet that was his responsibility, it was all he could think about. Her face, painted with his cum.
Bradley knew he had to do something about it.
He went home to her that night. He didn't say hello, just immediately pressed his lips to hers. It was forceful and hot and, before she had said anything to him, she was moaning into his mouth.
Just as he had on the night of their third date, Bradley carried her to the bedroom. His hands were holding her thighs as he carried her down the hall and into the bedroom.
When he dropped her onto the bed, she pushed down her panties and opened her legs. But Bradley let out a single laugh. "Not this time, pretty girl," he said and pulled her to the end of the bed.
As he did, she unzipped his trousers and freed his cock. "I want you to suck my cock."
The way in which she slid from the bed and onto her knees, she was unsure. "Have you ever done this before, pretty girl?" He asked, his hand stroking over the skin on the side of her neck.
She swallowed. "Yeah, Bradley, I have," she said, wrapping her fingers around him.
Bradley's eyes shut. "Fuck," he hissed. It had been so long since somebody other than himself had touched his cock. After fantasising about this for weeks, maybe months, now, it was finally happening. She was really touching him.
He opened his eyes and looked down at her as she brought his cock to her lips. She didn't wrap her lips around him immediately, instead giving his tip little kitten licks. It was oh so teasing but oh so good. Bradley almost came then and there, just from watching her.
But finally, she wrapped her lips around him. She didn't take him all the way in, didn't have her nose buried in his pubic hair, not yet. "Fuck, pretty girl," Bradley hissed as she sucked the tip. "You're doing so good."
Finally, she took him as far as she could. It wasn't all the way, but it was as far as she could go. Tears sprang to her eyes and she took a moment to breath through her nose, to try her best not to gag.
His hands were in her hair, gently stroking through it. "You okay?" He asked and she nodded, keeping her lips around him.
She pulled back after that and pushed forward again. He gave her time to get into a rhythm, keeping his hands in her hair. "Holy shit, pretty girl," he whispered through a series of moans. "So good f' me."
Bradley might not have noticed when his hips began moving. Maybe because it was slow at first, matching the rhythm of her movements. But soon He was fucking her face, hands holding her in place as he moved.
She moaned around him as drool ran down her chin. It really was a scene from Bradley's fantasy, but he was too blissed out to notice.
"Fuck, baby," he cried, his hips stuttering. "I'm gonna-"
He pulled out just before he came, spurting over her face. Bradley's chest was heaving as he looked down at her, his cum painting her skin, her lips, some of it getting in her hair. "You're gorgeous," he said through a breath as he pulled her up.
Using his finger, he scooped up the cum from her cheek and held his finger to her lips, she was only more than happy to bring it between her lips and suck.
Bradley sat her down on the bed. He kissed her once and got to his own knees, setting himself up between her own legs. He was going to give her the most earth shattering orgasm ever.
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i-cant-sing · 3 months
Text
Hmmm I could get tired over any fandom but.... batfam???? Yall would never see me tired of talking about them.
Like think just how absolutely batshit crazy they'd go if reader fractures her limb or something. Maybe reader like slips off the stairs or falls from a swing or something, and the batfam- they have to watch it all happen in slow motion, and nothing- there's absolutely nothing they can do to help you. It's scarring for Dick to watch the color drain from your face as you drip to the ground. It's scarring for Jason to hear the nasty crack as your bone bends in an ugly handle. It's scarring for Tim to hear you scream in pain. It's scarring for Damian to see the blood pour out of your body. And it's oh so heart wrenching for Bruce to hear you cry into his chest as he carries you to Alfred to get your cast done.... how hopeless he felt, unable to soothe your pain.
But things only seem to go even more downhill from there. As you recover, the family has silently decided to double down on their paranoia and be even more coddling and protective of you. You wanna walk down the stairs? Nope, here comes big bro Jason to hold your hand- or better yet, carry you around in his arms. Why risk you even tripping over air?
Wanna get something from the top shelf? Stand back, dont need the shelf or something heavy falling over your head and cracking your skull open. Let Dick pull the cookie jar down for you- but why are you even eating cookies this late???? You need to get some healthy nutrients in you, lest you should have weak frail bones. Heres your broccoli.
Wanna play video games or go on socials? Well, no more! Dont need you getting influenced by the violent storylines and bad news from around the world- Tim wouldnt your mental health to be affected. If you really want, you can use his laptop... under his supervision.
What the fuck do you think youre doing staying up past your bedtime? What do you mean youre too old to have a bedtime???? Get your ass back in bed before Damian drags you back like a gremlin and REMINDS you of the bedtime he has set for YOU, because he doesnt need you becoming an insomniac and turning insane. He will not be the one to bust you out of Arkham asylum (he absolutely would, but hed be complaining all the way) just because you decided you didnt need your 10 hours of sleep!
Wanna go to your therapist? Well, you cant cause he suddenly moved far away and every other therapist in gotham is a maniac in disguise. Bruce doesnt get why you cant just talk to him about your feelings??? Dont you trust him? Your dear father, the very man whod hold you in his arms and shield you from the scary lightening when you were young? The very man who you would ramble on to about everything and anything, including tattling on Damian locking you in his room and throwing a tantrum when Jason took you away when you were all kids? You can tell him anything sweetie, even if you wanna bitch about the batfam... it'll hurt a bit, but hed be okay (absolutely has big sad eyes when you tell him how everyones just too suffocating for you and you wanna leave them)
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talesofesther · 1 year
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yours only
Wednesday Addams x Reader
Summary: You make Wednesday feel something she never felt before; jealousy. And maybe a bit of something else too.
Requested by anon
A/N: First time writing for her, who stole my heart pretty quickly. I hope this is okay, hope I could somehow capture her personality that's definitely not an easy one. Let me know what you think. Requests for her are open. <3
Masterlist
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You felt a little petty, just a little, as you walked amongst the woods to meet Xavier in his secret spot, the one where he stored most of his paintings.
But he's been a good friend of yours ever since before Wednesday came to Nevermore, and if she can spend however long she wants in that coffee shop, why can't you do the same?
You weren't expecting to fall for her, in reality, you couldn't stand her in the beginning. But one doesn't choose one's feelings, and when underneath all that secrecy and nonchalant attitude she does things like; take an extra tray of breakfast for you when you wake up a little late, or help you in class when you forget the particularities of a flower, or even send Thing to your room in the dead of night with a written note for you to meet her the next day for an outing, which was code for sneaking out to investigate, but the gesture is there.
It was safe to say you were a goner. As much as it might be — her words, not yours — a terrible decision.
But lately, Wednesday has been distant. And you were jealous, even if you didn't have the right to be. So over the past week, you've been spending a good amount of time with Xavier. He's been helping you with your drawing skills, the piece you're working on now is almost done, and you're quite proud of it.
The entirety of your day is spent in Xavier's shed, laughing and painting and getting your head off of things. You think you see a dark silhouette spying on you from outside, but when you go looking, it's gone.
It's already late at night when you do go back to your dorm, your roommate is sneaking into her boyfriend's room tonight, so it's just you. You're looking forward to the quiet night.
You open the door to your room with a yawn escaping your lips. Your backpack is thrown somewhere to the side and you don't care much for where it lands, you stretch your muscles, a little sore for being in the same position most of the day. Only then do you take a glance over your room, and in the right corner, sitting by the end of your bed on the floor and mostly covered by the darkness, is Wednesday.
You almost jump out of your skin. With the way your heart is beating under your hand, you swear your soul did leave your body for a second; "holy shit Wednesday, a little warning next time."
Wednesday gets up, taking a single step towards you before deciding against it, her eyes never leave you. "You're distracted today, why?"
"Hello to you too," you grumble, taking off your jacket, "and, how did you even get in here, the door was locked."
There's a ghost of a smirk on her burgundy-painted lips, and it gets you wondering if they'd leave a print on you if you stole a kiss. "You can't expect a simple lock to stop me," Wednesday tells you.
You chuckle, knowing damn well there were few things out there that held any power over her. You just don't know that you happen to be one of them. "no, of course not."
A beat passes where you just look at each other, both waiting on something, wondering whether the other person’s feeling the same way. The air feels heavy around you, almost electrical.
You clear your throat and walk past Wednesday and to your wardrobe to pick up your pajamas, figuring a shower would do you good.
Wednesday has a staring contest with the back of your head as you rummage for clothes, her jaw is set tightly in place and she hates the feeling that's in her stomach right now. "You didn't answer my question," she says, with more bite than usual.
You huff, running a hand through your hair as you turn to her again. You walk up closer, your personal space mingling with hers.
She sucks in a sharp breath when you stop before her, her gaze darting to your lips before settling back on your eyes. It's so fast that you don't notice it.
"What question?" You ask.
Wednesday gulps, twisting her words into what she really wanted to know; "why are you spending so much time with Xavier?" She deadpans, as if she couldn't care less.
Your lips tilt up on the sides, because you know better, but you won't indulge her just yet. "Why are you spending so much time with Tyler?"
"This is childish."
"Indeed."
"His father is the sheriff, and I need information on the attacks," Wednesday raises her brow, "my relationship with him is merely convenient."
You bite the inside of your cheek, nodding softly, "well, Xavier has been my friend for years already, so…" You shrug and walk around her, heading to the bathroom.
"It doesn't look like it."
"Like what?" You turn and ask impatiently, waiting for her to do the same and look at you again.
Wednesday does so slowly, staring at you through her lashes. "Like you two don't want to be more than friends."
There's something complicated about her tone that you can't quite put your finger in. Her eyebrows are a little crooked, her eyes glinting just a little brighter under the moonlight and her hands painfully closed into fists. You realize she's upset.
You soften. For her, this might just be the equivalent of a crying plea. You walk over to where your backpack lays forgotten on the floor and carefully pull out your sketchbook. The cover is black and a little worn as you run your fingers over it, taking a steadying breath.
You sit down on your bed with it and pat the space beside you.
Wednesday regards you with caution, she's lost and not in control, two things she absolutely hates; however, she doesn't feel as uncomfortable when it's with you. She takes calculated steps to your bed and gently sits down beside you, closer than she thinks she should have, but it's too late to back down now.
"Xavier has been giving me a hand with a few of my drawings," you explain, opening your sketchbook on the last page you used, "and uh- this is the one I'm working on."
Wednesday takes the sketchbook from you, holding it tenderly between her fingers as if it could fall apart. Her heart beats erratically against her ribs, for a moment she thinks she can hear it. The feeling is foreign to her.
The drawing is a perfect picture of her, undoubtedly by your eyes, as she sits beside you in class, focused on her notes. It's a sight you're all too familiar with, one that you love. The lines are a little rough still, all black charcoal and dark ink; tracing the lines of her jaw and hair to perfection. It's pretty, probably not a word Wednesday usually would use to describe herself, but it's true now.
"I couldn't see Xavier as more than a friend," you tell her quietly, so as to not break the bubble of intimacy around you, "I'm afraid that spot is already taken."
Wednesday's gaze snaps up to you, and you think that's the most emotion you've ever seen her let on. You wish you could bottle this moment up like fireflies in a glass jar.
You reach out a hand, and Wednesday holds her breath before you even touch her, you do too. Her hair, deep black and so incredibly soft, meets the pad of your fingertips as you push it behind her ear. The motion is all delicacy and shyness, just a breath over the fragile line between you and her.
Wednesday's lashes kiss her cheeks when her eyes almost drop closed for a millisecond before she takes back control. She's stiff, hands now with a bruising grip on the sketchbook, "what are you doing?"
You inch closer, and when she doesn't pull away, you gently cup her cheek; her skin is a little cold under your touch. "What do you think I'm doing?"
For the first time in her life, her words get caught up in her throat before she forces them out; "Something you'll regret."
Smiling against your own volition, you whisper; "do you really believe that?"
Wednesday wonders if you're aware that you're killing her slowly; agonizingly, because you're so kind with her demise. She's the one who closes the gap between you, when you're just a hairs width away from her, one hand letting go of your sketchbook in order to bunch up your shirt in her fist and pull you to her.
It's everything you're not expecting, her eagerness, urgency even. She's kissing you like she's trying to memorize you, not sure if you're real or not. It's still soft though, still uncertain, still her.
When she parts, it's slowly, her lips almost refusing to let yours go. The outlines of your mouth are faintly smudged with her lipstick, testimonies of her affection, of how lucky you are to have it.
The sight pulls a smile from Wednesday, and consequently from you as well once you see it. Because albeit small, her smile is real, and you think you already have your next project for the sketchbook.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3
Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242
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thatfreshi · 8 months
Text
Forever and Ever (Astarion x Reader)
I'm going to sob and throw up everywhere this was so incredibly sweet.
Tw - mention of scars (i think that's it)
Recommended Song: Ronson Princess - Clarence James
Waking up to the sunlight gleaming through the red fabric, you and Astarion wrapped in each other's arms. It's odd for you to wake up before him, especially since he doesn't have to sleep all that much, but he's been particularly stressed the past couple of days. Baldur's Gate has brought up a lot of unpleasant memories, things he would've rather left behind. But sadly, everything has brought you back here, and he still wants Cazador dead. Perhaps that's what's weighing on him so heavily, knowing facing his master is so close.
You stare at his sleeping face for a long while, letting the sun continue trickling in, knowing soon he won't get this, soon that freedom of being in the sun, it'll be taken from him, just like everything else. Today you've prepared very special plans, kindly getting everyone to leave camp for the day. Before things change drastically, you want him to have something nice, a day without fighting, a day without talking about Cazador, a day without walking past taverns that he'd rather forget. You continue to smile at him, as his eyelids slowly flicker open. He smirks.
"I can practically hear you staring at me you know."
"Well good, at least you know how gorgeous I think you are."
You leave a kiss on his nose. Locking his fingers into yours, you start tracing his knuckles, all the little lines, tiny scars from fights, the callouses on his palm. He'd deny that he had them to anyone else.
"So... I have a surprise for you."
His ears perk up.
"Oh really? Whatever did I do to deserve such a thing?"
"You know I've said this a million times, but you don't have to do anything to deserve a gift my love. I just know you've been really stressed since we got back in the city, so I thought it would be nice if we had a day away from everything, just to ourselves."
"As if we could ever get time to ourselves with our hooligan friends."
You grin.
"That's the best part, I got them all to go do something else today, so we have the entire camp to ourselves!"
You feel a little bad, being so excited that your friends are leaving you alone, but Astarion likes the quiet. Sure, he's a performer, making little quips in a crowd, but it's that solitude, especially with you, that he cherishes. Maybe he was Stockholmed into it, being forced to be alone so often, but it was usually better than dealing with his 'siblings,' or Cazador. At least rats can't cut you up when they feel like having a good time.
"You seriously kicked out all of our friends so we could be alone for the day? However did you manage that?"
"I may have put some of your manipulation tactics to use..."
Last night, you just so happened to make an off-handed comment about something that would interest each of them. It wasn't too hard, especially since everyone in your group is obsessive over one subject at least, if not more. One by one, they decided they'd spend the day checking out something in the city.
"I have never been more in love with you."
You lock lips, running your hands through his hair, realizing that quite uncharacteristically, he hasn't washed it in days. He's usually quite ritualistic with his appearance, no doubt due to how he always had to look perfect. The habits simply stuck around, but he doesn't mind all that much.
"So, I have a whole day of activities planned!"
He sighs, thinking you mean some intensive itinerary.
"Okay maybe not activities, but nice little calming things to do. I call it... self-care day."
You look way too proud of yourself, and Astarion makes it known.
"What, dear gods, is self-care day? I am all for caring about yourself, as I am spectacular, but an entire day?"
"Yes. It's supposed to be overkill. Just a whole day of absolute bullshit, so you don't have to worry about anything!"
"As if I have ever gone a day without worrying."
You sit up, lifting him up to sit with you.
"Well, we're going to try, because you deserve it. Pleaseeeeee, I just want to spoil you."
He can't ignore your pleading, especially when you look at him with those soft eyes, a gaze that could ask for anything and he'd oblige.
"Alright fine, I will follow along on your self-care day, even if it sounds a little silly."
"Great! So, remember how I went out after dinner last night, and I told you that you couldn't come with me because I was doing something super special and secret?"
"Oh, when I was terrified of you roaming the city by yourself? No, why would I remember that at all?"
His voice is absolutely dripping in sarcasm.
"You know as well as anyone that I can take care of myself, you just like being a chivalrous piece of shit to people that are mean to me."
He shrugs.
"Yes. That sounds entirely reasonable, why would I not do that?"
"Okay yes whatever you like protecting me blah blah blah. We're getting away from the story. I found lots of cool little things, for example..."
Your voice trails off as you dig through your bag, trying to find the cloth sack you got your hands on yesterday. After you find it, you slowly open the pouch.
"I found your favorite tea!"
It's quite a particular brew, one you're pretty sure was made in this city. It's almost impossible to find anywhere else, and when you find it here, it's usually expensive. You hand the bag to him, and he takes in the scent. Blackberry, lavender, ginger, and a couple notes of citrus. Is it way too complex? Yes, quite, but he likes to dissect the flavor, focusing on the different components in the drink.
"You remember that thing I said, what was it... about saving money for, oh I don't know, a place to live after this? You know this is far too expensive my dear."
"It's fine, I can pickpocket a few people."
He laughs.
"You mean I can pickpocket a few people and you'll say you were there for moral support?"
"Yes."
Astarion simply sighs, because if he didn't love you, gods would he absolutely hate you. You could probably say the same thing about him though, so at least you're even. He grabs two cups from somewhere in the mess of his belongings, and the two of you make your way to the dying campfire. As you grab some water from one of the carafes, he adds some more wood to the fire, casting ignis instead of actually putting in the work to start a fire. Usually you would tease him about how he doesn't know how to start a fire, but today he's allowed to take the easy way out. You begin boiling the water for your tea.
"Okay, time for surprise number two while surprise number one is still cooking up."
"Oh, a second surprise?"
"It's self-care day, not self-care hour. There are many surprises to come."
You quickly walk to Gale's tent, bringing back a charcuterie board, filled with small finely cut fruits and mini cheese wedges.
"Ta-da!"
Astarion takes in the beauty of the spread, his heart fluttering a little. Sure, he doesn't have to eat, but he certainly lives for the finer things in life, and a charcuterie board is one of them. After all, eating things that aren't bloody animals makes him feel a little more normal. You smile, realizing he's actually excited and isn't relentlessly teasing you.
"I bought them last night and had Gale put together the spread this morning. I know it's less romantic but-"
"No my sweet it's... it's wonderful."
The two of you eat heart shaped strawberries and little pieces of cheese while you wait for the tea to brew.
"I know I joked a lot, but I do really appreciate all of this darling. It's nice, to know someone cares about me this much. Especially to know that you care about me this much."
"Of course my love. You deserve this and so much more."
You kiss his neck, leaving a little bit of juice from the strawberries. It's hard sometimes for Astarion to remind himself that the worst is behind him, that all he has to do now is deal with his master, and he can finally leave all of this shit behind him. He can finally have that life he wants, with you in some nice house, sleeping together in a nice bed every single day. It's also hard to remember that you love him, that he isn't some charity case you picked up, that you do all of this out of the kindness of your heart. He thought for the longest time that no one was truly kind, and that if they were, they were going to be dead soon enough, and yet he would do anything it took to keep you safe, one of the kindest souls he's ever met. He tears up a little, thinking about how you would care this much, that anyone could care this much about him.
"Are you okay Aster?"
You wipe a tear off his cheek.
"Yes, I'm alright. Just sentimental, that's all."
The way his eyes get wide when he cries, as if he's letting the world in for once, you always notice it.
"That's okay, you can cry all you want. Besides, usually makes you feel better after."
While you're consoling him, you pour out two cups of tea, handing him the first. You take a sip, realizing why this is his favorite. Sure, it's a lot going on, but there's something luxurious about it, soothing, as if made for royalty. Astarion wipes at a couple of his tears, and takes a sip.
"I'm serious though Tav, you have got to stop spending all of our money after this. I'll take this one nice day, but after that, it's back to pinching pennies for us."
Always worried, always thinking about the next thing, always five steps ahead. He's always had to be, playing his life like chess, knowing he's a pawn in some far greater game, knowing if he makes one wrong move he'll lose everything. You don't blame him one bit. After all, the two of you do need enough money to buy a place after all of this is over, and yet you don't worry about it, knowing you'll figure it out. Things have worked out for you so far, and they'll continue to. They simply must.
"Alright, deal."
After sitting and drinking your tea for a while, talking about what you want in the house when you finally buy it, you lead him down to the nearby creek so you can wash his hair.
"Now I know what you're going to say-"
"What, that I could simply do it myself and that you don't have to do something ridiculous like wash my hair for me?"
"Yes... something like that, yeah."
"Then why would you even try asking if you could?"
"Because I love you, and I want to, and I don't want you to have to worry about it."
You stay silent for a second.
"...and I may have bought a really nice shampoo from a store in the city even though I probably shouldn't have splurged but I just want you to have nice things..."
You make those puppy eyes at him, expecting him to say no or give you some lecture.
"Alright, if you insist."
"Wait, really?"
"Yes. Now go ahead and start before I change my mind and lecture you about how to properly bargain for things."
Now this, is a truly rare occurrence. He's so particular about his hair, to the point where he has to fix it every time you mess with it. You swiftly fill a bucket of water and take the nice shampoo out of your bag, putting yet another strawberry in your mouth.
"Seems like you're enjoying the strawberries much more than I am."
He says as he turns his back to you, the two of you sitting in the grass by the creek.
"Hey, it's a board for the both of us. If you're not eating off of it, that's your loss."
You mumble while still chewing on the fruit. He realizes you're right and grabs another piece of cheese before you eat it all. You motion for him to take his shirt off so he doesn't get water all over it, and soon you start working through his hair. It's sadly become quite knotted the past couple of days, due to neglect from the slump he's been in. You try your best not to get sad about it, knowing it's the truest sign of just how out of it he's been. Between dirt and knots and dried blood, there's plenty for you to work through, slowly but surely cleaning it all out, combing through it along the way.
"Are you sure I'm not going to look like a wet cat when you're done?"
You laugh at him.
"Hey, I never said anything about styling, just that I'd wash it. How it looks after is on you."
You don't see it, but he smiles. He has this moment of realization, a sense of clarity. This is it. The thing he's wanted all his life, he's found it, and it's someone so unlike him. And yet somehow, here you were, madly in love, eating fruit and cheese by the water, simply taking care of each other.
"I want it to stay like this forever."
He says suddenly. Your face lights up.
"Me too."
You put down the comb, wrapping your arms over the tops of his shoulders. He holds onto your hands, as if he's realizing for the first time just how real you are. You're here, and he's here, and you're in love. What a wonderful thing, to truly be in love, to have a plan, to have a future. He never really had a future, just a present, day after day. But now there's hope, a life after today, and tomorrow, and the day after.
"Would you do this again sometime? This whole, self-care thing with me? It's been quite nice."
You leave a couple of kisses on his shoulder, and he feels you smile into his skin.
"Of course. As many times as you want my love. Forever and ever."
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adelheidvonschicksal · 5 months
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Fem Reader who possesses the Curse technique ability of the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception (This power comes from the Fate series)? Bonus, if she’s like sweet and gentle to everyone, but in battle, she’s cold, merciless, and swift? HCs with the JJK men, like Gojo, Itadori, Megumi, Sukuna?
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Most characters think you can stand with them. The big dogs of the big dogs. As a student, they'd bet 100% that you'd go for Special Grade given the proper training. As an adult, you’re probably already one, if not a very strong first grade.
Sukuna has strong interest in your technique.
He sees someone with the ability to kill anything regardless of the power difference. He automatically wants to see it in action and the potential damage it can cause. If possible, he’d even like to claim the skill for himself (think of his interest in the Executioner’s sword).
Your technique causes you to be high on his list of most potential, second only to Megumi. The only thing that stops you from being first on his list is that you still need awareness on how to kill your target or get around their technique to be able to touch your target. If Sukuna touches someone, chances are he’s going to kill them anyway.
Either way, he wants to keep you alive for now if only to see if that sweet nature of yours (the one holding you back) will win out over the cold, calculated, barbarian he knows is inside you when you fight. It’s a form of entertainment while he’s under lock and key in Itadori’s body.
If things had been different, he might've been willing to keep you as a servant ALA Uraume.
Satoru thinks the world of you.
He has you right up there next to Yuuta and Geto in terms of skills and personal importance. He didn’t really expect after his birth, when the Jujutsu world spun and more powerful curses appeared, that it would also be accompanied by the revival of a technique once thought extinct.
Satoru likes to be paired with you to figure out how your powers work and to see you in action. A part of him would like to fight you and to test your skill out against infinity, but your curse technique has an added sure kill effect so that’s a bit out of the question.
You remind him a lot of himself. He definitely smiles when that good girl nature disappears and he can confirm for a fact, that you're crazy (affectionately).
Satoru likes to pick on you and constantly tries to rope you into his schemes and games, bringing you to his side when it comes to rewriting the jujutsu society. He likes to speak in terms of “our” “us” “we” when it comes to the two of you. Due to your potential to be a special grade, the fact that both your techniques revolve around your eyes, and the simple fact that you might be the only one who can grow to understand both the rush and excitement of power while being able to circumvent the loneliness that comes with it.
You’re also so genuinely kind to him, and he thinks that you earnestly care about him and want to be around him. You’re not the only one who is like this to him but it’s more special when it’s you.
Megumi is a bit annoyed by you, not because of anything you’ve done wrong, but mostly because that sweet nature of yours causes you to overly worry for him, like a mom, and vice versa.
Like Itadori, you’re a good person so he worries about you when it comes to interacting with others. He’s worried someone might take advantage of that gentleness of yours. However, he’s aware well enough that you can take care of yourself in a fight.
He isn’t really scared of your power. It reminds him of Nanami, after all. What he is scared of is your worry and fretting and scolding. Megumi absolutely refuses to tell you when someone or rather something gives him a hospital visit because of it, constantly reminding the others not to tell you when it happens for his own peace.
In battle, he relies on you much more than you rely on him, instantly feeling more relaxed and confident about hard missions when you’re there.
He gets embarrassed when you remind him that you rely on him, too, that the thing that helps you see is his planning and observation of the enemy, that’s better than your own.
Ironically and hypocritically, he finds you too self-sacrificing for your own good when you get out of control. At the end of the day, you’re more important than him.
Itadori thinks you’re scary since you first met under less-than-ideal conditions.
When you meet again at school, he’s shocked that it’s you. He straight up asks if you have a twin, a scarier really strong twin. He’s a bit more respectful when he figures out that you’re that scary twin.
You're easily one of his favorite people because of how nice you are. You're usually willing to go out with him when the others bail out. He often forgets how crazy you get otherwise.
Itadori really values your opinions when it comes to fighting and techniques. He confides in you often until he can rectify the fact he has to kill to survive, including humans. Itadori wonders how you compartmentalize everything, but between your sweet personality and the brutal one, but he’s too scared to learn your answer.
Despite this, Itadori still doesn't entirely understand your technique even when you explain it to him multiple times. He just knows it's kinda badass. You slice and things die, almost always.
(You're still working on figuring out how to explain it to him in a way he'd understand.)
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lovelytsunoda · 1 year
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the day you kissed a writer in the dark // han lue (tokyo drift)
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summary: she's stood by his side for years. his loyal mechanic, the brains behind his brawn. but she'd be lying if she said that it didn't hurt to watch him flirt with those other women in his club, when he came home to her every night in secret.
bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark, now she's gonna play and sing and lock you in her heart. i am my mother's child, i'll love you 'till my breathing stops.
pairing: han lue x mechanic! reader
warnings: smut, inappropriate use of a drifting car, insecurity and self-doubt, secret relationships, unplanned pregnancy.
author's note: here's something a little different today, lovelies! it's a departure from the usual realm of f1 content i usually bless you all with, but i felt like i needed to do something different to avoid burning myself out, and rewatching tokyo drift gave me the inspiration that i needed :)
she hated the club.
in the back end of her mind, she always resented the mere existence of that secret room leading to han's garage. the fact that he chose to surround himself with women in tight dresses with long legs and perky boobs like he was some kind of yakuza punk.
well, this wasn't crows fucking zero. this was real life.
she couldn't help but draw comparisons between these beautiful girls and herself. as she curled in on herself to duck through the crowd, she frowned at her reflection in the window: her torn up jeans, the grease stain on the cuff of her army-green sweater, the zip barely done up enough to cover up her double-d's, a small nut from her very first car hanging limply from a chain around her neck.
some days, she wondered why han had chosen her of all people.
"sean?" she asked quietly, poking the young american boy in the arm, practically shouting to be heard. "have you seen han?"
sean shook his head. "no, sorry. have you checked the garage?"
"i'm heading back there now. thanks, sean." she sighed, backing out the way that she came, trying not to think about all of the places that her boyfriend could be right now.
the anxiety ate away at her. was he with one of the other girls? one of the prettier, taller, thinner ones? was that why he wanted to keep the relationship under wraps?
was han ashamed of her?
she hurried down the rickety metal staircase, dropping her purse on the workbench as she went, subconsciously placing a hand over her stomach as she thought about the white plastic stick inside the fake leather bag.
they'd been sneaking around for a year, but they'd known each other far longer. she had come to tokyo when she was twenty-one, with a pocketful of cash and a monkey wrench. she had a high school diploma, but that didn't mean much to the rally teams she had applied to work on the pit crews for.
and that's when han swooped her up. when she became the bonnie to his clyde, the mechanic for his little street racing gambit.
that was three years ago. now she was almost twenty-five, he was twenty-seven, and he was in far too deep for them to keep going like this.
she knew why he had to keep it a secret. telling the world that she was his lover would put a target on her back. because that's what happens when you get in deep with someone like dk.
she pulled her hair back with the green rubber band on her wrist, pushing up her sleeves as she reached for a ratchet and approached han's car, the hood already open and ready for her.
working on the cars had always been her safe haven. her distraction from the outside world. fixing something that was broken gave her a satisfaction like no other.
"babe?" han's voice echoed through the garage, and she hated herself for the way that she froze up, fingers tightening around the ratchet. "sean said you were asking around for me? is everything okay?"
she withdrew from the car, slamming the hood down. "you're pushing the car too far. the engine is wearing down, you have to get something stronger. the serpentine belt is at it's brink."
"and that's why you're the brains of this operation and i'm just the pretty boy who drifts." han said playfully, wrapping his arms around her midsection as resting his chin on her shoulder.
"be more careful out there, seoul-oh." she said softly, placing a cold hand on top of his warm one before turning her head and kissing him softly. "i don't know what i'd do if anything ever happened to you."
han spun her body around gently, his hands on her waist as she jumped to perch her body on the edge of the hood, her fingers tangling in his dark, silky hair.
"you don't need to worry about me, sweetheart. i'm going to be okay."
she sighed, lacing her fingers together behind his neck. "where were you, han? wandering around your club with a girl on each arm? a girl that's three times prettier than i am, maybe one who's clothes are a little more revealing-"
"y/n, stop." han said firmly. "baby, you're the only one. my only one." he kissed her on the forehead softly. "i love you. i love you so much that it hurts. i wish i could shout it from the rooftops, but i can't put you in danger like that. i don't want dk to know, because that's a target on your back that i don't want there."
he pulled her as close as he could, arms wrapped securely around her as he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "i couldn't live with myself if anything ever happened to you."
the sincerity in the older man's voice was reassuring. but some days, it wasn't enough. she loved him more than words could say, but she was getting tired of being his little secret.
but at the end of the day, it was her bed that he always came home to. his arms she woke up in. his terrible singing in the kitchen while he made coffee with breakfast.
han lue was hers.
she kissed him again, still sitting on the edge of the toyota's hood. this kiss was stronger, harder. with more feeling as she bunched han's sweater up in her fingers, trying to wrestle it off his broad shoulders, his hands gripping her thighs tight enough to make her moan against his lips.
"seoul-oh." she mumbled as han broke away from her, pulling his sweater off the rest of the way before tugging his everlast t-shirt over his head.
they fit together like well-worn puzzle pieces, his lips finding that place on her neck that made her crumble, turned her legs to jelly as he slipped a hand up the front of her sweater, thumb tracing comforting shapes against her stomach as he nipped at her neck, biting down gently. there would be a hickey there in a mere matter of hours.
trailing kisses back up her neck, he gently bit her earlobe before placing one hand on the side of her face to guide her lips back to his, the other hand braced against the hood of the car to hold himself up. she bit down on his bottom lip, wrenching a growl from the back of han's throat.
he pulled away, dropping to his knees in front of the car as his large hands dipped under the waistband of her jeans. after reaching down to untie and kick off her beat up vans, she reached above her to grab the exposed beam in the garage ceiling, pulling her body up and allowing han to pull her jeans and panties down her legs in one fell swoop.
"oh, not on the car, baby. you'll stain the bodywork."
"don't care." han hummed, kissing the soft skin of her thigh. "i can't think of anything prettier than you. on the hood of my car, legs spread wide for me." he mumbled in between kisses, inching ever closer to where y/n needed him most, her arousal dripping onto the cool metal hood of the drift car.
and when his lips touched her throbbing clit, she could have sworn she turned electric, using one hand to brace herself against the car and burying the other in han's hair as she threw her head back in a throaty moan.
"han." she panted, grinding against his face as his tongue licked and sucked at her core. "oh, baby, yes."
han smiled to himself, kissing her clit gently as he held her thighs open with his hands. "still think that i don't find you attractive any more?"
"shut up, please. i need you so bad." she'd barely finished speaking when another low, seductive moan left her mouth. the arm that was holding her body up threatened to buckle underneath her as she tugged on han's hair, urging him to keep going.
han chuckled, the vibrations sending shockwaves through her body as her arm buckled, and she found herself lying against the hood, her head on the windscreen as she bucked her hips, searching for more as her lover tongue-fucked her, her legs thrown over his shoulders with reckless abandon.
"seoul-oh." she whined, clenching her thighs around han's head
"i know, baby." he mumbled softly, kissing her thigh. "you're doing so well darling. come for me."
and that's exactly what she did. with a moan so loud that she was shocked that the patrons of the club couldn't hear it echoing through the garage, she let go, her juices coating the lower half of han's face as he licked her clean before wiping off the bottom half of his face with the back of his hand.
"fuck." he mumbled, standing between her legs and leaning over the car to kiss her. "i can't get enough of you, baby. i think i'm gonna need more."
"oh yeah?" she smiled sitting up slightly, resting her weight on her elbows and raising an eyebrow when she saw the obvious hard-on struggling to break free from the confines of han lue's jeans. "and what do you think we should do about it?"
"back. room. now." he said, softly but firmly, kissing her in between each word as she wrapped her bare legs around his body, allowing han to pick her up and carry her over to the back room, where a double bed was piled high with blankets for the nights where they worked late, or drift races lasted until the mere hours of the morning.
or, nights where neither of them wanted to go home. han was sure that they had fucked on almost every available surface of the garage.
she undid her sweater slowly, revealing the lacy white bra underneath, the makeshift pendant on her necklace hanging delicately just above the hollow of her breasts as she cast the fabric aside, reaching up to snap the elastic band in her hair, letting it cascade in waves down her shoulders.
"you're beautiful, you know that?" he said softly, kneeling on the mattress as he rested one hand gently against her cheek.
she leaned into his touch, reaching up to wrap her slender fingers around his wrist, pressing a soft kiss to the heel of his hand.
she knew she should tell him. han needed to know.
but now was definitely not the time.
not that she could find the words while he kissed her neck, her chest, her stomach, his fingers dancing across her back as he fumbled with the clasp of her bra, erection straining against his jeans.
"han, babe." she mumbled, reaching behind her. "it's been a year now, you should know how to undo a bra, mr. womanizer." she joked, pushing his hands away as she pulled the bra off by herself.
"why would i need to know how to do it when you just take it off by yourself most of the time?" he grinned, standing up to unbuckle his belt.
he started to undo his jeans, pausing halfway as if he had forgotten something before he darted over to the rolling toolbox in the back of the room, pulling a small foil packet out of the top drawer.
fat lot of good a condom would do them now.
not when she was already carrying his baby inside of her.
her body trembled with anticipation as she watched han rid himself of his jeans, the echo of his belt buckle hitting the floor echoing around the room before he rolled the latex sheath onto his thick, hard cock.
god, she was a fool in love. han seoul-oh made her feel every range of emotions all at once.
"seoul-oh." she mumbled, lips against his as he clambered onto the bed, covering her body with his broad one.
"hm?" han mumbled, pressing kisses all over her face.
"i love you, han lue." she said firmly, gently pushing his face away so she could look him in the eyes. "i mean it, babe. you've ruined me for anybody else. you're it for me."
"good, because i don't think i could love anybody else if i tried." han breathed out, kissing her again, the tip of his cock teasing her entrance.
she squirmed under him, a small gasp escaping her lips before she bit down on her bottom lip.
she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of hearing her beg. that wasn't what tonight was for.
han knew this as well, gently pushing himself inside her. tonight was about more than just chasing a high. for both of them. it was about love, and reassurance, and intimacy.
she threaded her fingers through his hair, whining as han moved ever so slightly, the sensations they both felt sending shockwaves through their bodies.
"seoul-oh." she moaned softly. "please. god, you feel incredible."
"yeah?" han crooned, thrusting softly and barely holding back a moan of his own. "you look so pretty with my cock inside you, my sweet sweet girl."
"just like that." she whined as he thrusted again, bucking her hips into him, trying to take his length deeper. "keep doing that, fuck."
when han's nimble fingers came up grip and massage her right breast, she knew she was a goner, arching her back to drive her body into him with a moan as he kissed her chest.
"you like that, baby? yeah, you love having my hands all over you. and i love touching your beautiful body." han murmured, sucking a hickey onto her collarbone. he could feel himself unravelling, knew that the end was nigh as he moaned against her skin, blindly reaching for her hand.
there were no more slow thrusts as the driver began to pick up the pace, his lover's legs wrapped tightly around him as she moaned his name.
"oh god, han, baby. fuck, keep going." she panted, one hand trailing down her body to play with her clit. anything to get her closer to that release she craved as she whined and squirmed under han's touch.
she'd seen this film before, and she already knew the ending. and the start if the sequel.
"come for me, baby. i know you can take it, just give me one more, okay?"
"han, han, holy shit." she moaned, feeling the coil in her stomach finally snap, her high crashing over her like a wave.
her lover groaned above her, a guttural sound ripped straight from his throat before han gently pulled out of her sensitive body, the evidence of his own peak contained within the clear latex that he slid off his member, tying the condom off in a knot before punting it into the trash can next to his desk.
she pulled the blankets up as han settled in the bed next to her, his warm fingers dancing in gentle circles against her sweaty skin as they laid together in the afterglow, a content look on his face as he kissed her on the forehead.
"seoul-oh." she said quietly, twirling his long, dark locks of hair around her fingertip. "i have to tell you something."
"what's on your mind, pretty girl?" worry creased han seoul-oh's face, a pit forming in his stomach.
he hated seeing her like this.
"i'm pregnant."
han's eyes widened. "what? babe, why didn't you tell me?"
"i've been trying all day. but you've had your hands full with dk and sean and drifting." she said sadly. "but i can't raise this baby with dk breathing down our necks. you need to get out of this life, seoul-oh."
han frowned thoughtfully, one hand resting against the side of her face. "i'm going to be a father. fucking hell, babe this is incredible. i promise you, i'm going to make a plan, and i'm going to get us out of tokyo."
"you know we can't keep this a secret any longer, right? i'm already eight weeks along, once the first trimester ends, i won't be able to hide it."
"you're right, you're right. we'll test the waters. i'll tell sean and twinkie in the morning, see how the news of our relationship goes over with them. i want to keep it from dk until i can find a way to get us out of here."
y/n nodded, lacing her fingers with han's and placing his hand on her stomach. "okay. let's do this thing." she broke out into a smile. "we're going to be parents, han. can't you picture it? sitting behind the wheel of your toyota, with our little gremlin on your lap, teaching them how to drive before they can even walk."
han laughed. "they'll be born with a monkey wrench in one hand and a bag of lays in the other."
"i love you, seoul-oh." she said softly, kissing him gently. "i'm so glad i found you three years ago.
"i love you more, y/n. and i can't wait to raise this kid with you."
Tags (though im not sure if any of you are interested loll):
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh
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