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#and what really shakes them to the bone is when they See
draconic-desire · 2 days
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To the Grave (400 subs!)
Yandere Aventurine x Reader
Yet another escape attempt thwarted. How will Aventurine react?
Warnings: Yandere behavior, implied kidnapping, forced imprisonment and affection
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The room is cold, and not just because you’re half naked and shivering, clutching at your thin pajamas. No, it’s because the man across from you is radiating an aura more bone-chilling than Jarilo-VI.
Aventurine dismisses the IPC grunts who dragged you in with a wave of his hand. You get a sick sort of satisfaction that it took four of them, plus a senior staff member in a mech suit, to finally restrain you this time.
Your escape this round was spontaneous, but you couldn’t turn your nose at the opportunity when you noticed the guards had failed to lock your door that evening. You’d sprinted out wearing nothing but the ridiculous, skimpy nightwear that Aventurine liked to return to you wearing. You’d made it as far as the outskirts of the manor before you were grabbed and tackled by the pursuing goons.
Hence how you found yourself here, presented to the very man who held you captive against your will.
The room is dead silent. His back is to you, so you can’t gauge his expression, but you notice he’s playing with a single chip, tossing it back and forth between his hands—a tick that you’ve learned means he’s thinking, calculating.
“Did you really think your little stunt would work?” His voice is calm, barely over a whisper, but it still sends a shiver down your spine. Your nails dig into your palms ever so slightly harder, leaving crescent moons in their wake.
“The odds haven’t stopped me before,” you throw back, mocking his own betting lingo.
Aventurine lets out a dry, breathy laugh. “And that’s what makes a gambler. That desperate desire to cling to the hope that the next time will be the jackpot.”
“I’m willing to take those odds if it means a lifetime without you.”
He does not have one of his normal, clever comebacks for that, apparently. He merely flicks the chip one more time and snatches it midair in his left hand, which then moves to settle behind his back.
“Do you have any idea the lengths I go to in order to keep you safe?”
At first, you think you imagine it—the edge of hurt, the crack in his voice. But then you notice his posture, the hand held behind his back, the fist shaking ever so slightly. It’s the same as when he’s making a risky bet, when he’s scared of the next play.
Some of your bitterness morphs to confusion. “Aventurine—”
This time he turns, and his mesmerizing, beautiful, terrifying Avgin eyes meet your own. “You know what to call me.”
“Kakavasha,” you breathe out after a pause. At the sound of his true name, you see him release a breath, some of the ice melting around his eyes. “This isn’t safety, this is a prison. You can’t expect me to…”
Your voice trails off as he wraps his arms around you, one hand caressing your hair while the other attaches to your hip. He buries his nose into your neck, right at the base of your jaw, and you suck in a breath. You still feel the ghost of pain from each previous bite and bruise he’s left on your neck, the marks he uses to stake his claim on you.
He releases a choked laugh, making your knees weak with fear. You brace yourself for pain, for the sting of his fangs as he sinks his teeth into your flesh—
Except you realize he’s not laughing, he’s crying.
“I was so frightened, (Y/n). I thought—I thought you were gone—” Each attempt is cut off with another hitched breath, his grip on you like a vice. “You’re all I have left, the only thing that I can protect. I can’t lose you, too. I’ll give you anything. So please, just…stay.”
Your initial shock starts to bleed into uncertainty. Strings of doubt, of guilt, wrap around your heart. How can you pull away from him, knowing his past? How fate has stolen every loved one from him, leaving him a broken shell that he himself was forced to piece back together? Can you truly blame him for his possessiveness, his need to keep you?
Of course you can, logic tells you. But the lost man—no, the frightened Avgin boy, the last of his kind—who is clutching you with such unbridled affection and sadness doesn’t need your reasoning, he needs your understanding, your compassion.
You sigh, placing your hand on his head and running your fingers through his golden tresses, in the manner you know he loves so dearly from you. “I’m sorry. I—I’m not going anywhere.”
“No,” he agrees, his voice suddenly clear, “you aren’t.”
Something rattles and wraps around your neck with a click.
“Wha-what—!” You scratch at your nape, at the metal fixture that you don’t even need a mirror to identify. No. He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t, not after everything he himself has been through, he wouldn’t subject you to the same humiliation and torture—
Aventurine gives the chain attached to the shackle around your neck a light tug. When your eyes lock with his, you see they are void of tears, brimming only with smug victory. The basted fucking faked it.
How easily you had fallen for the mask of Kakavasha, only to be met by the reality of Aventurine, his heart as hard as stone.
You immediately thrash, baring your teeth at him. “Bastard! Liar! Heartless wretch!” You growl when you hear him laugh at that last one. “I will never stop fighting you, not until you are alone, dead, and buried as you deserve!”
“That may be so,” he drawls, “but your willing compliance certainly isn’t something I’m willing to bet on.” He pulls you close by your chain, licking your fallen tear of frustration. “So how about I bring you to the grave with me, hm?”
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The hero didn’t even want to look at it.
“Okay,” the villain said. Despite the tears in their eyes, they were a little too calm for the hero’s liking. But they supposed they had always been the opposite to the hero when it came to stressful situations.
Usually the hero could deal with stress pretty well, they were a hero after all, but it was getting increasingly difficult to operate when neither time nor solutions were on their side. It was frustrating and the hero wasn’t used to losing.
“You have to break my femur now,” the villain said. They looked down at the wound and then at the hero who prayed this was a poorly timed joke. “Remember, it’s the strongest and thickest bone in the body, so you may need quite a bit of force.”
“I am not going to break your bones, I—” The hero wanted to throw up. They could see parts of the injury under all that rubble and they didn’t want to imagine how much pain the villain was in right now. The villain didn’t scream nor curse, they bottled everything up and let tears speak for themselves. They knew the villain was tough. But could anyone be this tough?
It was one of the villain’s qualities they admired oh so much but it was also something that seemed to doom them.
“It’s just one bone. I’d do it myself but the angle is shitty and you’re stronger.”
“No, don’t make me do this.” The villain grabbed the hero’s arm quickly and stared them dead in the eye. Their fingers dug into the hero’s suit but it was just a fraction of the pain the villain endured.
The hero panicked. If they had been any other person — hero or villain — they wouldn’t have hesitated to break the bone. But this was them. They didn’t want to hurt them, they didn’t want to break any of their bones.
“Listen, if we want to save my leg, you have to break it. We don’t have much time. I’m bleeding out and I need some fucking painkillers. I’m not gonna stay here so your hero-friends can arrest me.” Their face was pale and the hero’s tongue was heavy.
“I can’t, please, I cannot do that to you.”
“I’m just another villain on your list to cross out,” the villain said. They squeezed the hero’s arm harder and their eyes widened, as if a wave of pain had just hit them. They made a noise close to a grunt but again, they were hiding it perfectly.
“No, you’re not, you’re really not.”
“If you want to save my life, you’ll have to do this. You’re a hero, aren’t you?” The hero had no words left.
The truth was, they had had a crush on the villain for quite some time now and even though they knew rationally they needed to do this, they weren’t quite there emotionally yet.
“You should get a pipe. You crush the bone and then hopefully, it’ll be easier to pull me out. The angle should be better. I might pass out though, I’ll just…” They didn’t look as confident anymore.
“If we wait for my friends to arrive, they can help you, maybe I can—”
“They will arrest me if I’m not dead by then. I’m counting on you.”
I’m counting on you.
The hero’s fingers trembled. Breaking someone’s bone — they had never done that on purpose. And yet, they knew the villain was right. It seemed to be the only way out for them.
“I called you,” the villain said, “because I trust you. I need you. I’ll do you a favour in return, I promise. Just, please.”
The hero took the villain’s hand and pulled it close to their chest.
“I’ll do it,” the hero said.
“Great.” Unsurprisingly, the villain wasn’t happy. Their other hand was shaking and they looked already traumatised. The hero wished they could make this easier but there didn’t seem to be any options left.
“I’ll just have to tell you something real quick.”
“What?”
“I have a crush on you.” The villain stared at them. They didn’t look mad nor did they look annoyed.
“Wait. Really?”
“Yes.”
The hero just had to tell them. If this was it, if the villain would get captured or worse, if they died, they needed to know that the hero had crush on them.
They wouldn’t be able to deal with that for the rest of their life. So whatever happened now, the villain would live through it, knowing what they meant to the hero.
“This is really bad timing, darling.” Another tear ran down the villain’s cheek. They squeezed the hero’s hand.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll get the pipe.” The hero didn’t find one. Instead, they found a brick. None of them were particularly enthusiastic about that. “Okay. Again, I’m really sorry.”
The hero grabbed the brick with two hands.
“Wait.” The hero did. “I think I like you too.”
“That doesn’t make it easier,” the hero whispered.
“I thought you needed the challenge.” As answer, the hero let out something closer to a sob than a laugh.
What happened next would give them nightmares for the following decades.
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shanastoryteller · 12 hours
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Happy birthday! Could you continue the naruto daughter of the homage series?
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6
Naruto doesn’t feel comfortable going back to the tower until the Suna kids have collected their scroll and arrived. Gaara had killed nine people – three teams total – in that time. None of them Konoha, thankfully, but that’s mostly due to her team and Itachi engaging in some creative luring and misdirection. The Konoha Twelve can be redirected outright by one of her clones, but the other leaf genin that she doesn’t know as well have to be lured rather than instructed. Getting their own scroll is more an afterthought than anything else.
They probably should have thinned the herd a little more. Now they’re having preliminary matches, which is just another chance for Gaara to kill one of her shinobi.
Great.
“Is that Orochimaru?” Sakura hisses, looking up at the spectator box. “Isn’t he a missing nin?”
Naruto flickers her glance upward, but she’d already known he was attending. What does surprise her are the two people by his side. “Yeah, but he’s also the Otokage, and one sort of trumps the other. Dad gave up on that one a long time ago, and Sarutobi still likes him besides. That’s not the interesting part.”
Jiraiya sends intelligence back to the village frequently enough, but she’s never thought she’d seen Tsunade back in the village.
~
Orochimaru is already bored.
He barely attends chunin exams when they’re in his own village. But Kabuto had given him an interesting report, and he hasn’t seen Minato in something like fifteen years, so he figured it couldn’t hurt. Besides, Anko is proctoring a portion of the exam, and she always complains that he doesn’t visit.
Jiraiya found out, somehow, which was bad enough, but then the traitor told Tsunade, and the two idiots insisted on coming with him for some reason.
Probably because they were worried Minato might try to arrest him, which is frankly insulting. He can and will kick that kid’s ass if he has to.
Hm. Maybe that’s what they’re intending to prevent, on second thought.
Minato’s daughter has her father’s coloring and her mother’s bone structure.
“I’m surprised she’s made it this far,” Jiraiya murmurs.
Kushina throws him an irritated glance, but the white knuckled grip she has on her armrests seems to imply she agrees with him. Minato doesn’t look at either of them, not that he’s looked at Kushina at all. There’s really no point in them playing the part of happy couple in front of foreign ninja if they can’t commit to the deception.
“She’s got a solid stance,” Tsunade says. “Don’t need working chakra coils for that, I suppose.”
Minato’s lips thin, but he keeps his silence.
“Gaara of Suna versus Rock Lee!” shouts Hayate, pausing to cough halfway through.
Orochimaru leans forward now that something interesting is finally happening.
It’s not as immediate of a bloodbath as he thought it’d be. Lee holds out, demonstrating a mastery of taijutsu truly can make up for an awful lot. He fiddles with the weights on his wrist, but then he glances up. It seems as if he’s looking at his sensei, who’s shouting encouragement, but standing just to the left of them is Team Seven.
Naruto’s lips tug down at the side and she shakes her head just slightly, the movements so small thar Orochimaru wouldn’t notice them if he wasn’t focusing on her.
Lee’s shoulders droop even as he backflips to avoid another deadly arm of sand. He’s not even close to exhausted, and he’s lasted longer against Gaara than anyone else has, but he raises his arm and says, “I surrender.”
Everyone is stunned, an air of disbelief surrounding them.
Gaara acts like he hasn’t heard, more sand barreling for Lee. Hayate moves to interfere, but he’s a lot slower than that sand is.
There’s a smudge of yellow across the arena, there and gone, taking Lee with it.
Orochimaru turns, expecting to see Minato’s seat empty, but he’s still there, eyebrows raised.
He frowns, looking back down, and Naruto is back out of the arena, putting Lee back on his feet. “It seems you didn’t hear him!” she shouts, grin so wide her eyes are slits.
“I didn’t know you taught her the Flash,” Jiraiya says.
Kushina stares between her husband and her daughter, eyebrows pushed together.
“Yes,” Minato says stiffly, “well.”
Interesting.
It appears Kabuto’s report was accurate.
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sqirtle · 2 days
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Small fic based on this!
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---------
"So do you think a HUGE scissors sadness could beat a small rock sadness?"
Siffrin chuckled, but kept his gaze on the unfinished chair leg, "I think so, yeah. A strong Scissors craft done by a person can still beat a rock sadness, so it could work in a hypothetical sadness versus sadness fight, can't it?"
Bonnie hummed, "I guess so? You should try that sometime."
"Are you suggesting I go explicitly against precisely what Nille told me not to do?"
Bonnie giggled, "It's not like you don't do it anyway!"
Siffrin almost messed up their carving, "No I don't!"
"Yes you do! I know things, you know?"
Siffrin grimaced, "...how do you know?"
Bonnie laughed, loud and cheerful, "For starters, you've just confirmed it!"
Siffrin groaned.
"And also, you keep going out to 'fish', come back with no fish, and looking like you got mauled by a bear."
Siffrin gasped, "No I don't! I don't lose fights!"
"If you say so."
"I do say so."
Bonnie giggled, and Siffrin exhaled, finishing up another chair leg. He blinked, "Oh! I think I'm done with the chairs."
Bonnie turned away from the stove, "You are?"
"Yeah. I just need to make the table legs and assemble all of these, and I'll be done with Ms. Jill."
"Good," Bonnie says, "She sucks. I don't like her coming here so often."
Siffrin hummed, sanding the latest chair leg some more, "Are you almost done cooking? I can help if you're not."
They shook their head, tongue sticking out as they stirred the pan, "No, I'm neeearly done." They gently flipped the sweet potato fries, and promptly turned off the stove, "Ok, all done!"
"Did you salt the fish?"
Bonnie nodded, then the nod slowly turned into a shake of the head. "Forgot."
Siffrin laughed, and stood to ruffle their hair, "It's okay. I'll bring the salt once I set the table, then."
Bonnie pushed his hand away, sticking out their tongue, "Okay! I'll go wait for Nille outside!"
Siffrin smiled as they ran off the house, and set the table. The cute, nicely decorated fork for Bonnie, the plain darkless one for themself, and the one with the darkened handle for...
"NILLE'S HOME!" Bonnie exclaimed from the door, startling Siffrin into dropping the forks on the table, "Oops! Sorry!" They said, a nervous smile on their face.
Siffrin breathed deeply, and smiled at them both, "Hey, Peel."
Nille smirked at him, "Hey Crabfrin, did Bug here blow up the kitchen today?"
Bonnie groaned, "No!!!! I didn't!!!!!!"
"Results inconclusive. I was busy carving. The kitchen might just be gone."
"I didn't!! I didn't blow it up!!!!!"
Nille shook her head, fake remorse in her tone, "Wow, that's too bad. Guess we'll have to get a new kitchen."
Bonnie puffed out their cheeks, "Alright that's it. None of you get to eat my delicious and amazing fish and sweet potatoes."
Nille laughed, "Nooo! Buggg please let us have some!!"
Bonnie shook their head resolutely, "No. You were a crab. No food for you!"
Siffrin smiled, "What if I apologized and gave you a little kiss on the forehead?"
Bonnie paused. "..fine."
.
They sat down to eat.
Dinner was about as eventful as always, which is to say everyone spoke about what they did during the day (and when had Bonnie had time to do all that? Had Siffrin really been that immersed while carving?) and, of course, sent their compliments to the chef ("We MUST have someone else cooking here, the cooking is too good!", "Wow, you picked out all the fish bones? Thanks Bug!")
After that, Bonnie went to bed as Nille was on dishwashing duty, and Siffrin in drying.
"Did Mr. Flemming give you much trouble?" Siffrin asked, drying a fork and putting it away.
"Huh?" Nille tilted her head, passively scrubbing a plate, "Oh, nah, he was patient and all, he just had me wanting for long bouts of time in-between tasks. That's why I took so long to get home."
"Ah." She usually got home before Bonnie even started cooking, after all, "I see."
They cleaned for a few more minutes in comfortable silence.
"Oh, right." Siffrin said, "Do you want to come with me to watch a play, next weekend?"
"Sure," Nille answered easily, "What's it about?"
"I'm not sure, I think it's new? Something about a boy going inside of a book?"
"That sounds fun. Are we taking Bonnie?"
"If they wanna come!" Siffrin nodded, finishing up the last plate, "I don't think it's age restricted."
"Cool, we have a weekend plan, then!" Nille smiled, and walked out of the kitchen, "Don't forget tomorrow Bon has that playdate of theirs after school, okay?"
"Yeah, I'll pick them up." Siffrin nodded, removing his gloves and smiling at her, "Good night, Nille."
"See you tomorrow." She smiled back, and they both went to bed.
.
Sifffin sighed shakily under their cloak.
Bonnie never did go to that playdate. He refused to think about what happened to their little friend, and instead held Bonnie's hand tighter and they continued to run.
Chin up Siffrin.
Chin up.
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chuluoyi · 5 months
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✎ wife
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- gojo satoru x reader
in which the new batch of first years are unaware that their eccentric teacher's wife is the pretty woman roaming the school grounds
genre: fluff, crack, gojo being a silly little menace as always, yuji and nobara are confused, an attempt at humor, lovesick gojo, mention of breastfeeding
note: it’s so silly but i had fun writing this! based on a request by anon (thank you!) but i tweaked it a bit and partly inspired by this fanart. reader is also a teacher at jujutsu high and has a baby with gojo—loosely a continuation of protect
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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"Take that off immediately!"
"Kyaaah~! Yuji is here, you pervert!"
Yuji was a laughing mess. Megumi and Nobara collectively sighed. Nanami attempted to retrieve his once-immaculate suit, now a crumpled mess, from the one and only Gojo Satoru, who found humor in stealing his signature attire and impersonating the stern-faced Nanami in front of his fresh batch of first years.
"He is incorrigible," Nobara grumbled, her eyes slitting. They said that he was a strong sorcerer, possibly the strongest there was, but she found it really hard to believe.
Megumi threw her a deadpan stare. With many years of putting up with this kind of antics under his belt, he pitied her for not knowing that this was far from the worst. "Yeah, he is."
"How does anyone ever put up with him?"
That was actually a good question. "We don't..." Megumi paused, recalling each and every occasion where he tried to do so. "His wife is probably the only one who can."
Nobara sputtered, spinning towards him. "What the—wife? That annoying man has an actual, living, breathing wife?"
"Who? Gojo-sensei?" Yuji chimed in, jumping into the conversation, leaving the supposedly two adults in their catfight. Nanami was still clawing to get his suit back, and Gojo continued to giggle and evade him, playfully running away.
Nobara scoffed. "I bet the woman just married him for the money. He comes from prestigious clan, yes? That must be it."
Yuji felt his eyes would pop out of its sockets. "What are you talking about, Kugisaki!? What woman—"
"Shut up, Itadori! Don't be too loud!"
Nobara and Yuji's unharmonious ruckus irritated Megumi to the bone, and he decided that the best course of action now was to leave them all in the dust. With a glare and a shake of his head, he stalked away.
And thus the two new first years were left with half-truths that would lead them into a major misadventure later that day—
—which happened when they spotted Nanami with you, whom they were still unfamiliar with.
They were convinced that Gojo’s wife must be some sort of boring tramp eyeing his wealth and not this positively radiant, mature woman, and so ruling that possibility out, they positively swooned at the sight before them.
"He's irresponsible, egotistical—" snippets of Nanami's frustrated words conveyed enough to paint a picture of Gojo's character. He was definitely ranting about Gojo to you.
"Is that Nanamin's wife?" Yuji mused, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "She is so pretty..."
"They... look cute together," Nobara hummed with dreamy eyes, and then looked at Yuji sharply. "And yes, she's indeed pretty, but know your place, Itadori!"
"I know!"
Based on how the two of you interacted, they concluded that you must have been close, with the way Nanami visibly relaxed around you, and not as formal as he was with anyone else. They highly suspected that the two of you were married, as you wore a ring, which was the ultimate sign.
"And how's the baby?" Nanami asked then, directing the question to you with a smile on his face, prompting surprised gasps from both Yuji and Nobara.
You were glowing, to say the least, and when you let out a small giggle at his question, even both students couldn't miss the way your expression exuded pure happiness. "He is well. Ah, I really wanted to bring him along too, but he was a little messy after eating so I left him at home. You can see him later…"
Yuji gaped. "So it's true..."
"Oh my gosh... and they have a baby." Nobara almost squealed.
And that sealed it. The headline of the day: Nanami is married to this stunning woman wandering the school grounds.
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So imagine their utter shock when the second time they found you, you were with Gojo, and he was shamelessly snogging you in the hallway.
“Why are you here?” Gojo was breathless after the soul-sucking kiss he smothered you. His tone remained playful yet carried a clear undertone of concern. "You're still on maternity leave. I'll make sure Yaga knows that."
“Satoru,” you whined, and the use of his given name made Yuji and Nobara gasp in disbelief. “I’m perfectly okay and I don’t need to breastfeed anymore. I should start getting back to work.”
Nobara seemed to finally understand the implication. But Yuji didn’t. His mind flitting from one scandalous idea to another—
Gojo-sensei seducing Nanamin’s wife? Nanamin’s wife cheating on him with Gojo-sensei?
In the brief period he spent with Gojo, Yuji realized that he didn't exactly have a reputation for decency. So despite himself, he could only muster up this one word: “Homewrecker. Homewrecker!”
Yuji’s shriek took all three of you by surprise, and now both you and Gojo were aware of his presence.
“You absolute idiot,” Nobara hissed, face-palming.
“Oh, Yuji? Nobara?” Gojo genially asked, his concern towards you quickly dissolved into a meaningful smirk on his face. “And what do you mean by—?”
Yuji yelped. “You! You are! You’re trying to seduce Nanamin’s wife!”
Silence. Gojo’s eyes twitched beyond his blindfold. You blinked. Nobara wanted to save herself from the second-hand embarrassment. And his loud voice caught the attention of Megumi too, who was close by.
“You seem to be mistaken. First of all, Nanami isn’t married,” Gojo said with a strained voice, maintaining his smile. He then gestured at you, showing you off with pride. “And this here, is my wife.”
“Y-your wife?!” Yuji exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger. “H-how?! I saw her with Nanamin! Talking about a baby—”
“That would be my baby.”
“But how?!”
“Yuji, do you want me to give you a crash course in baby-making—”
“Satoru!”
You sent him a glare and turned to the young first years with a smile. "You must be the new first years? I’m Y/N, and I’m in charge of the second years.” You gestured towards your husband. “And please, ignore most things he says. He’s a bit crass, and if you ever feel he's harassed you, don't hesitate to report it to me."
“Wifey! How could you!”
“Shut up, Satoru! You’re embarrassing yourself!”
“What are you doing here?” Megumi inquired with a deep frown, getting between Yuji and Nobara as they stared at Gojo in total bewilderment.
Yuji exclaimed in disbelief, pointing at you. “Fushiguro! Gojo-sensei’s wife is a beauty!”
“…I know that already.”
Nobara whipped her head towards him. "You knew?! Since when?!"
“They… took me in.”
“THEY WHAT?!”
Gojo grinned at their chorus of surprise. “And what a fine boy he turns out to be, eh?”
Megumi scowled, but Gojo wasn’t bothered at all. If anything, what offended him was—
"What makes you think my dear wife here belongs to Nanami instead of me?" he joked with a mock scoff, earning an eye roll from you.
Nobara and Yuji blurted out their thoughts simultaneously.
“They look good together?”
“Nanamin is dependable?”
Gojo gasped dramatically, one hand flying to his mouth. "So, not only do I not look good with her, but I also don't seem dependable enough?" He turned to you with the most aghast expression. “Tell me that isn’t true—”
You shot him a withering look, deadpanning, “Actually, you might be.”
And Gojo clutched his chest, letting out an anguished cry.
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Epilogue
“Satoru… come on, you know I was joking.”
Your dramatic ass of a husband had his head on your lap, hugging your torso tight. The pout on his face hadn’t faded a bit ever since he was done with his class, and now on your marital bed, he was clinging to you with all of his might.
He shook his head petulantly, clicking his tongue. “You’ve embarrassed me in front of my students. You’re so mean!”
You sighed. “I’m sure you have made a fool out of yourself far often. This is insignificant.”
“Hmph! How could you say that?! I don't care if it's me, but I can't believe that it's coming from you! I shower you with my undivided love each and every day!”
“Yeah, yeah…”
Somehow seeing him like this made your heart lurch. He reminded you so much of your baby boy who was sleeping right in the next room that you couldn't resist smiling and pinching his cheeks.
“Okay, okay. My husband is handsome, looks good with me and definitely someone I can rely on,” you relented, and like a lightbulb going off, Satoru suddenly beamed so wide that you were certain his cheeks hurt.
“That’s more like it! Now, now, there’s only one way that can prove how responsible I am! Let me just fill you up with another baby—”
You smacked him on the head.
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mariespen · 2 months
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Pretty Girl ˚. ୭୧ .˚
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daddy issues!reader x rafe cameron .˚ summary: "His girl, only his, sobbing in his arms." warnings: major daddy issues!, very mild mentions of verbal/physical abuse, shared trauma
based on this request!
‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
The bright ping on your phone shone throughout the dark bedroom like a discreet warning.
You got up to check it, a small and exhausted smile on your face.
Rafe recognized the way your eyes saddened, slowly becoming more droopy and cursing your cheeks as if they were pulling you down with them. He looked at your face like it was a mirror. He watched you try to block every thought out of your head, try to put the phone down and run back into the warm arms of your boyfriend.
“Hey..” Rafe whispered, his voice deep and scratchy from the morning sun.
You let out the smallest sniffle, wiping your eyes and hesitantly putting your phone back down. You turned to him, looking at him like the world was weighing down on your shoulders.
The eye contact made Rafe’s eyes glossy with the reminder that the two of you really weren’t all that different. He couldn’t stand the idea that another man was hurting his little girl.
You let yourself collapse into his arms, feeling them wrap around you and rest on your tense body. He sighed, burying his face into your messy hair and pressing you further into him.
Rafe didn’t need telepathy to know what that text said, he didn’t need anything but his own personal experience, but he wanted to see it word for word. He held you closer, keeping his grip tight as a weak attempt to distract you from his arm reaching over to take your phone from the night stand. He felt lucky when you didn’t stir, just clung onto him in understanding.
He started to open your phone to gain an alternate understanding, but he felt his heart break when you started shaking in his arms. His girl, only his, sobbing in his arms.
“My love..” He whispered, dropping your phone somewhere on the bed and holding you with both arms again.
Your sobs shook your shoulders and he realized that he didn’t need to know what that message said at all. Rafe needed to be next to you, he needed to kiss your tears away, he needed you to look at him with nothing but love and trust.
“Talk to me, princess.” He spoke into your hair, planting an encouraging kiss on the crown of your head.
“Can’t..” You sobbed, clutching tighter onto him.
Sleep clouded your senses, safety replacing the white-hot feeling of dread as he kissed your forehead like you were made of only porcelain and glass rather than the harsh reality of bones and blood.
Rafe woke up with your soft skin pressing into his tense body. It was hard sleeping knowing that your tears stained his chest. You stirred in his arms and he strained his neck down to kiss your cheek gently, pulling back up to relax into the plush pillows.
His hand found its way from the warm confines of your hair and down your neck, stopping at the base of your back. Rafe drew up your shirt just enough to slot his fingers under, scratching your back to the beat of the thoughts in his head.
Reflections and recollections of his father’s angry shouts flooded his mind. Every word attacked him and latched onto him almost the same as they had when he was nothing but a child. He was stronger now, stronger than the words his father spat at him and the fist that same man had thrown at him.
Rafe worked quietly to take hold of your phone again. He didn’t bother reading your father’s small and dismissive texts. On an impulse, Rafe instantly found the block button and deleted his contact. He cleared all of your tabs, feeling a pang of guilt course through him. That quickly disappeared.
The soft shaking of Rafe’s body woke you up. He muttered something but you couldn’t hear the detail of his voice. Instead, you hiked one of your legs up onto his abdomen and let your head bury itself into his side. You gave him a squeeze, emitting a small chuckle from him.
“G’morning, princess.” He said, brushing a hand through your hair as a strong, protective urge blanketed him.
Rafe felt safe when you felt safe. He felt at peace when you did and he felt protected when you felt the same. His happiness was solely in your hands and you were clueless, at least he thought you were.
“Morning..” You yawned into him, starting to fall back asleep in his warm embrace.
Rafe kissed you softly, pulling you upright and brushing the strands of hair away from your face.
“Gotta get up.. important business today.” He said with a higher pitch to his voice that made your heart melt.
You pouted and nodded as Rafe got out of bed and retrieved the outfit he had picked out for you yesterday. He began to get ready, checking on you once and seeing that you were still in bed, slowly falling asleep on your own terms.
Rafe walked over to you, sitting next to you and picking up your head to lay on his lap. His fingers lazily tangled into your hair as he spoke to you.
“C’mon baby, time to get ready.” Rafe’s voice bordered a whisper while he sat you upright again.
“M’kay..” You answered groggily. 
You dramatically got out of bed, a protesting pout shading your face as he chuckled at your stubborn features. The ice of your tired chest broke when he kissed you and warmed your entire body with pastel-red love.
Getting ready was never a chore when Rafe was next to you. His company had never shied away from you and he made sure to attach you to his hip at all times.
“You look gorgeous, princess.” He said, kissing your glossy lips deeply enough to steal some right from your face. He wiped his mouth with a laugh, settling on your forehead. He stooped down to kiss the perch of your face before helping you up.
“Really?” You asked with a bright smile. His eyes softened at your question, noticing a hint of doubt lining your features.
“I’d never lie to you, sweetheart.” He whispered to you, capturing your lips in a quick kiss before pulling away to admire the way blush flares up your face.
You nodded, never being amazing at receiving compliments but you couldn’t deny how his words made your whole heart melt into a puddle inside of your ribs. Rafe pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your face.
“You’re my girl, m’always gonna think you’re pretty. Won’t ever give up on you, a’ight?”
Tears brimmed your waterline as he forced you to hold eye contact with his softening eyes.
“I got you, pretty girl.”
‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
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cherubfae · 2 months
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hiiiii!!! I was wondering maybe if you wanted….-
hazbin x reader when reader is just tired and just kinda like falls into them- like needing a hug yk
I needa hug 😒😞
(btw i love your work oml- I’ve comeback to your page at least 4times in the past 2hours)
there's comfort in your arms || hazbin x reader
With Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Angel Dust, and Vox
tags: gn!reader, exhaustion, comfort, fluff, pre-established relationship/platonic
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Alastor
"Oof!" A sudden weight on his back has him twisting halfway around to see who it is. He's not very pleased with the sudden embrace but he's calmed down a bit when he sees that it's you. Alastor peels you off of him, quirking a brow.
"My dear, you look positively worked to the bone. What has happened?" He frowns, a rare trait. He's sending you to bed straight away, can't have his dear friend struggling about when they're so tired!
Lucifer
Immediately frowns, cupping the back of your head. He grasps your shoulders, pulling you back a little. Heavens, it looks like you're on the absolute verge of falling asleep on him! Lucifer holds you close, smiling lightly when your head nuzzles into the crook of his neck. He sighs, delicately wrapping his wings around you.
"I've got you, sweetling. Don't worry." Lucifer hums, stroking your hair gently allowing you to sleep on him.
Husk
Frowning, Husk awkwardly pats your back. He hates seeing you so tired. You're a hard worker, you do more than most. Tucking you beneath his wing, Husk makes sure you stay warm while he continues to wipe down his bar. If he can't leave yet, he may get Charlie or Angel to bring you to bed with the intentions of checking in on you later.
"Don't keep pushing yourself so much, kid. It ain't healthy. Don't make me worry about you, okay?"
Angel
Keeping you upright was a task all on its own. Your eyes could barely stay open and there was a shake to your legs. That fuckin' job of yours was running you absolutely ragged, something he knows well. He lifts you up into his arms easily, heading off to tuck you into bed.
"Ya really gotta cut back on the hours, sweets. This ain't good for ya."
Vox
Eyes going wide, he lightly pats your shoulders. He's pretty alarmed with the sudden display of affection. Vox's lips turn wobbly as you all but seem to go limp against him. With a sigh, he's scooping you up and letting you curl up in his lap while he messes around on his monitors. You can rest there for as long as you need.
|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024
"I wish you told me you were so tired, hun. Would've given ya a break."
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anantaru · 8 months
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GENSHIN + FONTAINE NEEDS IT BAD
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— ꒰ including ꒱ — neuvillette, wriothesley, lyney, clorinde x fem! reader
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, rough, teasing owowow, cockwarming, oral (fem! receiving) + oral! (male! receiving), prone bone
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— ꒰ NEUVILLETTE ꒱ + cockwarming
neuvillette was a versatile individual, so .. lets assume— you wanted to try out new things? perhaps, let him dominate you until you're writhing in your sheets, stuffed to the hilt with his cock?
or maybe— just maybe, you craved to cockwarm him while he's occupied with numerous, important work tasks, yet best believe he will take it one hundred percent serious, his fingers gripping against the flesh of your ass until they're turning white because of the pure strength put behind them.
essentially, when you say something, he does it, point. blank.
but be convinced that he will give it his all, just for you, just so he can see your pretty face while you're not moving an inch on top of him, because that’s it— now, neuvillette has to edge himself on to not cum inside, well, how fucking hilarious that he doesn't even need to run his cock inside your sore walls to near an orgasm, he can just have it buried deep in your soft pussy, bright lust coursing through his veins, sweat dripping from his forehead in doltish globules, arousal from your ruined cunt dirtying his slacks, but it's so worth it, and it's so wet and soft when you frantically throb around his erection, if only he could actually concentrate on his work load now.
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— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱ + prone bone
wriothesley was taunting you, his breath hot against your trembling shoulders, and he was fiercely alluring in his ethereal mannerism—but even a strong, well-built man such as him melts immediately whenever the moments of intimacy were delicate beneath the contour of his body, materialized in a light assemblage of lust. 
he connects your bodies quickly, his large hands falling down against your back as you're perking your ass up, feeling how your juices were slowly soaking his cock— a reaction he should have gotten used by now but if he was being honest with himself, he could never get used to it, not even a little.
unrestrictedly intoxicating on how fucking good and tight it felt whenever you clench your cunt on him, not to mention in a position like that, you're all the more tighter and sore, and he feels you better as he becomes more sensitive himself.
you squish your face against the pillow now, saliva pooling down the splits of your lips as you moan wetly over each sharp thrust of his, desperately panting when you clench down again at him, giving it your all, and he's so big, it's crazy, you're shaking all over as your toes curl inwards at the impact of his skin contracts and smacks on your own, wrapping your arms around the tear-soaked pillow to brace yourself and receive his tasty blows.
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— ꒰ LYNEY ꒱ + blowjob
there’s not a single doubt that hearing your handsome boyfriend lyney moan your name in a transparent reaction of what you did to him, was mouth watering— because of how you're letting him roll his hips into your mouth till he's hitting your throat, it's quite surreal, indescribable.
"mmh, you feel so good", lyney litters his hands over your head to guide you, smirking brightly, barely parting from your honeyed mouth, burning desire trickling into his blood at a dangerous instance when you plant one palm against his shaft, drawing him out of your mouth almost entirely but keeping the tip in as you fist his length while hollowing your cheeks at the tip.  
he really wants it so badly right now, his day had mostly been utterly strenuous and demanding, and with that being said— let alone fucking you was making him throb in your mouth, fantasizing about the warmth he would taste later—the little tightness of your pussy swallowing him and gushing of his cum.
archons, lyney believes he's cumming already, and you only just had started pushing him back into your mouth, lips stretching over his pink tip as your sneaky tongue rolls over his dick, spreading the wetness while he's humping your mouth faster, closer to his climax, rolling his hips until he simply cannot take it anymore, it's futile and he was aware of that, throwing his head back as you bring him to a mind-numbing orgasm.
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— ꒰ CLORINDE ꒱ + face sitting
every whimper that bubbles wetly from clorinde's pretty lips, in combination with her eyes rolling in the back of her head— you can feel it on your cunt as you're riding her tongue without a single edge of going slow, because speaking frankly— she needs you to be rough with her.
clorinde wouldn't pull you away to even breathe a little either, she keeps you strongly peeled on her famished, craving mouth, and it's utterly mesmerizing to see her that way, especially with her kitty licking flicks on your clit, the roughened rounds of her tongue on your addictive little core that she clearly cannot get enough of, even if she tried.
you're so tasty, and it hurts, yes, it aches when you aren't riding her face properly.
just to feel your hips twitch under her palms, she would do anything, keeping you drawn to her mouth as you're holding onto the wooden headboard, throwing your head back as you're wiggling your hips, writhing and licking your parted lips when you're holding her by her silken hair, practically grinding her face over your wet pussy and receiving her guttural moans like rough blows on your core.
you're cantering down your hips to meet the thrust of her sloppy tongue in and out of you as she's precisely targetting your dripping hole, swallowing down your gooey slick as it wraps around the tip of her wet muscle like a vice, barely parting from your sweetened taste— continuing to languidly stroke your insides and pressing up against the sore, bubbling spots where the last destination was harboring, one before you're releasing all on her face.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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greatooglymooglyyy · 1 month
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Trust Me (M. Sturniolo)
chris version?, masterlist
contains: angst, verbal arguing, trust issues, accusations of cheating, make up sex, smut (soft!dom matt), a bit of fluff
a/n: yikes. i don't even know what to say. bone apple teeth.
“Are we really going to argue about this?”
I pause the motions of washing my face to glare at him through my phone. “Yes, Matt. We’re really going to argue about you hanging out with an ex-fling.”
He sighs and readjusts his hold on his phone. “We’re going in circles. I told you I’m not ‘hanging out’ with her. It’s a business collab.”
“Blah, blah, blah.” I mock childishly and Matt cocks his head. I know he’s confused at my sudden surge of pettiness and honestly so am I. I mean, we’ve barely argued at all in the last six months we’ve been together. But, something about this situation is stirring up old insecurities in me and I can’t help lashing out.
“If it’s really just work, why are you just now telling me about it?” I ask as I pick up the phone and walk back to my bedroom, plopping down on the bed.
“My bad, I didn’t know I was on a leash. I didn’t have to tell you about it at all. I called you out of respect when I found out she was coming.” He answers roughly. I’m about to respond when I hear his brothers calling his name.
“I’ll come over when we’re done and we can talk about it face-to-face, okay?” Matt says, softening his tone.
I don’t even reply. I just scoff and end the call, throwing my phone off the bed. I see the screen light up with a message from him but I don’t pick it up. Instead, I head into my living room to spend the day watching the only man who’s never let me down: Stiles Stilinski.
*************************
I must have fallen asleep somewhere around season three because I wake up to Void Stiles and someone banging on my door. Walking over and staring through the peephole, I’m unsurprised to see Matt standing there looking pissed.
I open the door slightly, peeking my head through the hole. “Wrong house.” But he just rolls his eyes, seemingly unimpressed.
“So we hang up in each other’s faces now, right?” He says as he pushes the door open wider and steps inside my apartment.
Sighing, I close the door and lock it, turning to lean against it with my arms crossed. “Oh, you remembered I exist? Only,” I mime checking the time. “three hours later. How was she? Was it good?”
Matt tilts his head and stares at me for a second, his eyes hardening, before he chuckles darkly and shakes his head. “You have me so fucked up today. Accuse me of cheating one more time.”
“If you want to be single, do that. In love or not, you’re just a man. You’re not the only dick-”
Matt cuts in, his face deadly serious again. “Y/N, who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? Stop playing with me.”
His expression tells me I’m going too far, but the anger burning inside of my chest won’t let me back down.
I walk closer to him, stepping into his space “I’ve been there, done that with all the bullshit, Matt.”
“And I’m not them.” He snaps, ducking his face inches from mine. “I’m not stupid and I haven’t done anything to make you not trust me.”
Despite my best efforts, my eyes start to water and I look away. He’s right. I can’t punish him for someone else’s mistakes. I walk away and let myself fall backward onto my couch. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my arm flung across my eyes.
Matt comes over, pulling off the back pillows so he can crawl on top of me. He moves my arm from my face and adjusts me so I’m looking at him. “I’m not going to cheat on you.”
“I know,” I admit, blinking back my tears at how stupid I feel.
Matt wipes the corners of my eyes and turns my face with his fingertips so he can kiss my jawline. “You’re the only one I want.”
“Even though I have trust issues?” I ask breathlessly as he moves his lips down my neck, the proof of his want hardening against my thigh.
He shrugs, sliding his hands under my shirt and gripping my sides. “I’ll fix them.”
I nudge him so he’ll look at me and wrap my arms around his neck to pull him to me. Tangling my hands in his hair, I press tiny chaste kisses to his lips. He lets me have my way for a few minutes but gets frustrated and takes control, kissing me harder and sweeping his tongue into my mouth.
I grind my hips up against his, needing friction, and he groans. Removing an arm from his neck, I reach down and unbuckle his belt, reaching into his boxers. Matt moans my name against my neck and begins thrusting into my hand slowly. He sits up slightly, pushes my sleeping shorts to the side, and plunges in his middle finger.
I gasp when his cold ring brushes my clit and lean my head on his shoulder.
He adds another finger, using his other hand to hold my legs open when I try to squeeze them closed. He reaches down and stops my hand movements, clearly getting too close, before leaning back down to place kisses on my face.
Matt adds pressure to my clit, laughing when I push against his shoulders. “You’re so fucking wet for me already, pretty girl.”
I moan out his name as an answer and he picks up the pace, curling his fingers to brush my g spot. He keeps up his pace even when I tell him I’m coming, his thumb rubbing circles as I ride out my orgasm. When I come down, he pulls out his fingers and wipes them carelessly on his jeans as he stands up.
“Get on your knees.” He tells me as he kicks off his pants and boxers. I slide off the couch, following his instructions, and face him, assuming he wants head. But when I reach for him, he shakes his head. “Bend over the coffee table.”
I raise my eyebrow slightly but do as he says, bracing my hands on the frame.
Matt kneels behind me and nudges my knees farther apart. He swipes my hair to one side so he can kiss my neck as he lines himself up, grunting quietly as he enters me.
He gives me a second to adjust when he bottoms out, beginning to thrust when I start to squirm. He pulls back as far as he can and slams back into me, pushing me into the table. I gasp, looking back, but he only smirks, leaning down to lightly nip at my shoulder. He continues his rough strokes, his hand digging into my hip.
Fighting for control, I meet his thrusts, pushing my hips back into him, until he braces a hand on my back and pushes me down.
I give up and I press my face into the cool glass, moaning loudly, as he hammers into me. Matt moves his other hand up to the back of my head, lacing his fingers through and tugging gently. “My girl.” He breathes out, the soft tone of his voice contrasting his rough thrusts.
“Please, Matt,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut as I feel my body tightening up.
“Come all over me, baby.” He says, pulling me up and pressing my back into his chest while he thrusts up. My body melts against his, and I unravel around him. I shudder when he continues thrusting, his hand coming up to circle my oversensitive clit.
It’s too much but when I try to wiggle away, he pulls out and stands, yanking me up with him. He leads me back to the sofa and bends me over the arm of it before sliding inside of me again.
He grips both of my hips, using them as leverage as he pounds himself into me. I can’t believe how much he’s stretching me, the tip of his dick kissing my cervix as he thrusts.
He brings his hand up and covers my mouth, shushing me, which must mean I’m being too loud. But I can’t think of anything besides the way he feels inside of me.
I can tell when he gets close because his thrusts become sloppier and he starts moaning out my name. He pushes inside of me as deep as he can and comes, dropping his head onto my back.
We both try to catch our breath for a second before he pulls out of me slowly and points me toward the bathroom. “You can go first.”
When we both have cleaned up, he comes back over to where I’m sitting on the couch and squats down. His eyes are kind and sweet as he takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it. “Shower?”
He lets me get in first and I flinch at the cold ass water he’s set it to, turning up the heat. Matt hisses as he follows me in, leaning past me to turn it down. “Are you trying to boil us alive? That shit is proof that you’re a demon.”
I laugh at his dramatics as he grabs my soap and lathers up the loofah. He scrubs my arms gently before spinning me so he can get my back.
When he's done, he pulls me into his chest and I lean my head back, the feeling of his skin against mine like ecstasy.
“Do you know how much I love you?” He says, his voice grating across my ear before he places a kiss behind it.
I turn and smile at him, adoration flooding my body. “I think I’m starting to.”
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emmyrosee · 6 months
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You’ve been sneaking into Kenma’s room for years.
It started when you were very young, having left your gameboy at Kenma’s house after a few rounds of Mario. You managed to toss a few rocks at his window, and once he silently unlocked the door and let you in, you quickly scurried back out hours later with a grateful smile.
Then, you started to sneak through his window. Seeing the flashes of lights at god knows what hours was something you knew meant he was awake, and you’d climb out from your sheets and crossed the street to his place. Again, you’d throw rocks at his window, and when he’d tried to go open the door, he hadn’t expected you scale up the large tree just a few feet away.
Tonight was no different; he’s tapping away wildly on his console while you scurry up the tree in your slippers, smooshing your face against the glass when he finally sees you and opens the window.
You’d finally tumbled in, and he gave you a tired sigh, “you’re annoying.”
“And you’re still playing. I wanted to watch you play.”
“You could’ve just texted me. You left marks on my glass.”
“I needed the exercise. What time do you need me out of here?”
“Kuroo drags me by the ankle out of here by 06:30. Be out beforehand.”
You smirk and nudge his shoulder with yours, causing him to send you a glare before sitting back down on the floor. “Sleep on the bed, help yourself to pajamas.”
“You like him, kenma,” you tease. You see him tense up before he shakes his head.
“No,” he says simply. “I don’t. Not like that anyways.”
“Just not used to you having other friends besides me,” you hum. He huffs in annoyance.
“Are you gonna watch, or do I have to kick you out of my room?”
“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll behave. Only because I hate climbing your tree.”
Kenma doesn’t like Kuroo. Honest! He thinks he’s cute, sure, gets why the girls like him and boys follow him around, he’s fine enough on a scale of emotional and physical attraction.
But Kuroo’s not the one Kenma’s eyes stay focused on. It’s you.
You’re funny, he likes the way you eat foods that you don’t like first, before diving into the favorites after to savor them. You’re cute, and you’re bad at the differences between contexts of words, and you have a little eye twitch that bestows you in a moment of quick thoughtfulness.
You don’t ask him why he’s up so late, you ask him the answers to homework and give him gummy worms as a thank you. You never overstay a welcome, always either leaving before the sun comes up, or staying quiet while you sleep on the bed.
He likes the way your eyes shine when you’re excited, the roll of your eyes when he tells you “no” when you want the answer to be “yes”, the little snickers that slip out at Kuroo’s expense at Kenma’s quick thinking.
“Kenma?”
“Im busy.”
“I want to cuddle.”
The way you want physical touch when you’re tired.
Yeah. As your best friend, he really is bias to that one.
With a groan, he pauses and saves his game under slot 3, shuts down the console before crawling up and into his bed next to you, the cold sheets shooting his nerves until they warm under your shared warmth. You bury your nose in his collar and he takes out his phone for you both to watch tiktok.
“Kenma?”
“Go to sleep.”
“When you marry Kuroo, can I be the ring bearer?”
“If i marry Kuroo, I want you far, far from my ceremony.”
He practically hears you pout, “you’re no fun.”
“I sure am not.”
For someone who has no fun, not one fun bone in his body, he’s amazed at how comfortable you are in his grip and he in yours, fingers fisting his nightshirt until his own eyes grow heavy.
And if Kuroo walked in just a few hours later at 06:30, only to see his best friend cuddling with someone he loves most, he didn’t say anything and closed the door softly behind him.
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laundrybiscuits · 9 months
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(ETA: now edited and up on AO3)
Look. Eddie knows he can be a little uptight about these things, but. There are rules. If you become a vampire, you don’t need to go full gothic Count Von Dickhead or whatever, but you absolutely cannot just wander around in a puffy vest and light-wash jeans. 
“Why not?” says Steve. He’s leaning back in an armchair, sipping on a bloodbag like it’s a goddamn juicebox. “What, are the vampire police going to arrest me?” 
He pauses. “Wait. There aren’t vampire police, are there?”
“No,” says Eddie. “Probably not. I don’t know. But there are standards which you are refusing to uphold, Steven.”
“Thought you were all about hating conformity, Edward,” Steve says. He’s got an obnoxiously cocky little smirk, the smug undead fucker. 
Eddie grimaces. “Don’t call me that, asswipe. Don’t you feel, like—the call of the night? The siren song of life coursing through fragile human veins? A hunger for destruction that those paltry plastic bags of blood can never truly slake?”
“The bloodbags aren’t so bad,” says Steve, around the straw. “Better than protein shakes.”
“I actually hate you,” Eddie tells him. “Vampirism is wasted on you.”
Steve noisily slurps the last of the blood out of the bottom of the bag. “Come on, you can’t really picture me in some Dracula getup, can you?”
The problem, of course, is that Eddie really, really can. When Robin had read him in on the whole situation, obviously he’d been horrified and concerned—but also, a whole wing of his brain had immediately been cordoned off to work overtime imagining Steve in elaborate Dark Prince regalia, maybe leaning elegantly out of a castle window on the moors, gazing into the foggy dusk. Velvet might’ve been involved.
“...guess not,” says Eddie. It doesn’t sound incredibly convincing to his own ears, but Steve just shrugs and gets up to throw the bloodbag away. 
“There you go, man,” he says, clapping Eddie on the shoulder as he passes. “It’s the 80s. Vampires can be whatever we wanna be.”
———
It gets way too easy to forget about Steve’s condition, until Eddie ends up having to haul him out of a bar in Indy before they get banned for life.  
“Simmer down, buddy,” Eddie says, pulling him into the shadow of the van. “Let’s get those fangs packed away before any of the nice villagers wander by with torches and pitchforks.”
“I’m good,” pants Steve. “It’s all good. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
Eddie lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “Sure, that’s why your eyes are glowing red and you’re, like, fully vamped out. Which, by the way, looks extremely dumb with the whole clean-cut vibe you decided to rock tonight.”
“Fuck you, I look great,” says Steve, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s not wrong, it’s just not relevant to how he also looks extremely dumb like this, wearing a pristine henley with fangs hanging out in the parking lot for anyone to see.
“So what the hell happened in there, man? I was finally starting to get somewhere with Todd, and…” Eddie trails off in dawning realization.
“Holy shit, am I—I’m like your territory, aren’t I? Your stupid vampire brain got all screwy and decided to loop me in with Robin and the kids as part of your freaky human coven.”
“Uh,” says Steve. He looks unhappy in a shifty kind of way. “Something like that, maybe.”
“Wait, so, are Nancy and Jonathan—are you okay with them because they’re both already in the vamp pack? Is Vickie gonna have to be inaugurated before she and Robin can bone down?” Eddie perks up. “Shit, is there a ceremony? We could totally do a ceremony.” He bets he can get the kids to liberate some velour curtains from the drama club. With a few candles, they could get some serious atmosphere going.
“No, shut up, nobody’s doing a damn ceremony,” Steve groans. “Vickie’s fine.” 
“Okay,” says Eddie. “So…you gonna tell me what all that was about, then? Do I have to start running guys past you first so your vamp instincts don’t wig out? Or…hm, maybe Argyle’d be down to mess around sometime.”
Steve lets out an actual snarl with weird animal echoes, then claps a hand over his mouth.
“Sorry,” he says, muffled. The shadows around them seem darker somehow. 
“So I’m just not allowed to get laid ever again,” says Eddie slowly. “For vampire reasons.”
“Do whatever you want, man.” Steve’s still got his hand pressed tight over his mouth. 
“And it’s…just me?” Eddie peers at the tightness around Steve’s eyes; the way he’s scowling stubbornly at his feet. “Huh. Kind of…possessive, Harrington.”
“It’s—weird,” says Steve miserably, dropping his hand at last. “I know it’s fucking weird.”
“Maybe.” Eddie shrugs, biting down on the grin he can feel tugging at his mouth. “Lucky for you, I’m into that shit.”
“What?” Steve frowns. “You’re…”
“Always wanted a vampire boyfriend,” says Eddie. “Like, are you kidding? I would’ve sold my fucking soul at 15 for something like that.”
“I’m starting to feel a little objectified here,” says Steve, but he’s smiling, and he reaches out to snag Eddie’s belt loop and tug him stumbling closer. “Just in it for the fangs, huh?”
“Well, you’re kind of a shitty vampire, actually.” Eddie drapes his arms over Steve’s shoulders. “So I guess I must just be in it for you.”
Steve hesitates, searching Eddie’s face. Stray red lights are still sparking like embers in Steve’s irises. “Okay, but—you’re in it? Right?”
“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Bunnicula. I’ll send the vampire police after you, just watch me,” says Eddie, and kisses him.
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daytaker · 3 months
Text
The Gang React to You Breaking Your Ankle
Lucifer
"This was bound to happen sooner or later."
I mean, really, with all the stunts you play with his brothers and that sorcerer, it's more surprising that you didn't break anything before now. Thank goodness your room is on the ground floor. Now, here is a schedule of where you need to be and when, along with the brother who is your designated companion at all times to ensure you don't get stuck somewhere or fall over and break something else. This is a rotating position so stop fighting all of you!
Mammon
"Holy shit, humans break easy, huh?"
Assuming for the moment that Mammon didn't accidentally get your ankle broken by pulling some stupid stunt for Devilgram clout and involving you in it, he'll be extra careful with you for a little bit. People keep jostling you in the hall! Don't they realize you're basically made of glass and paper?! He'll clear the halls for you to hobble by with your crutches. Yep, you're earning all sorts of new friends.
Leviathan
"E-sports are the best activity when you're injured."
What a convenient excuse to drag you to his room more often than usual for anime marathons and all-night gaming sessions. Like Mammon, he's a little uneasy about this revelation about just how delicate you are, but nobody gets injured playing video games. He's basically protecting you from your next inevitable accident.
Satan
"Stop trying to do so much on your own."
Satan acts extremely annoyed when he sees you trying to hop somewhere without your crutches or lifting anything more than fifteen pounds unaided. Of course, he's just worried about you and expressing that in the most practical way he can. He repeatedly reminds you of advice on improving your recovery rate he found in medical books and the blogs of reputable physical therapists (he always checks into their credentials).
Asmodeus
"Poor thing! Let me spoil you!"
And that's basically what he does, whenever he gets the opportunity. This is a great excuse to get some much needed R&R, in his opinion, so the two of you will be visiting spas and getting massages and you aren't walking anywhere anymore, he is one of the Rulers of the Underworld and you are going to be carried on a litter, so help him Gardonus.
Beelzebub
"You need to eat well to get your strength back."
Prepare yourself for Beel's version of "eating well". You only had three eggs for breakfast? You'll never heal at that rate. Have another six and some bacon. Here's a protein shake. It's designed for demons so it's probably a little grittier than the soft stuff from the human world but it's exactly what you need. No, he doesn't have any science to back this up. Yes, he expects you to clean your plate.
Belphegor
"Of course you got hurt, running around all the time. You should just relax with me."
Little did you know this was all part of Belphegor's master plan...
What a perfect opportunity to spend every second of the day with you. Now that you're forced to sit around and avoid being too active, he has you right where he wants you (specifically, under the blankets with him while he sleeps). He'll remind you at every opportunity that you normally run yourself ragged, and you've earned some time to laze around. And now that you're injured, you have the perfect excuse!
Diavolo
"Your poor human bones... My home is always open to you if you need somewhere more convenient to stay. Please take care of yourself, in the meantime."
Rest assured, he will provide you with all transportation necessary to and from RAD. Or perhaps you would like to try remote classes? Leviathan finds them productive! And if you need anything, please let him know. He'll be in touch about five times a day just to make sure you remember that.
Barbatos
"I am only a phone call away should you require my assistance."
And he will be on call at all hours of the day and night, just in case. You'll be treated like royalty when you visit the castle too, of course. (Even more like royalty than usual, that is.)
Solomon
"Oh, that? Here."
He just magics your ankle better. There, there, little apprentice. He's surprised you didn't do that yourself.
Simeon
"What are you carrying? I'll take it for you. No, I insist!"
Simeon will be a perfect gentleman, helping you up and down stairs and carrying your books and shopping for you. He's very concerned about you somehow re-injuring yourself, and even when you're alright to walk without crutches anymore, he still *really wishes* you'd use them for an extra week or two, just to be on the safe side.
Luke
"You did what to your ankle?! Ankles can do that?!
Congratulations, you've introduced Luke to the concept of broken bones, and he will find the human skeleton creepy and gross for the rest of his life.
--------
@thefandomthings I know this isn't exactly what your ask was, but it's similar, so I hope you like this!
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
Text
For a few weeks, Claudia thinks that she’s collecting her son from the hospital after he’s visited Max Mayfield.
Then she finds out that’s only partly the truth.
Usually Dustin’s already waiting in the parking lot for her, Steve by his side. They chat, Steve insisting that he could drive Dustin home, it’s no trouble, and Claudia thanks him for the offer, kindly refuses; the poor boy looks run ragged these days.
One day neither of them are there, so she heads inside. There’s still a long line at reception, the aftermath of the earthquake, so she finds a nurse in a corridor, describes Dustin—my boy, about this high, curly hair (smiles like the sun, she wants to add)—and the nurse smiles, says, “Follow me, ma’am.”
She has a passing thought that this isn’t the direction to Max’s room, but reasons that she must’ve been moved. The nurse leaves her at the door before being called away.
Claudia opens the door quietly.
It’s not Max who’s in the bed.
She recognises him from the posters—his eyes first, then his long hair. He’s holding a battered copy of The Hobbit, the spine broken, and he’s reading so softly that she can’t quite make out the words.
And there, lying so peacefully against Eddie Munson’s shoulder, is Dustin. He’s fast asleep.
Eddie’s got an arm around him, and he’s slowly running his fingers through Dustin’s hair the way she used to when he was little, to help him drift off.
He looks up from his book at the sound of her entering the room, and his face goes as white as the bedsheets.
She takes one step forward.
Eddie inhales, breath stuttering, and it’s a fragile, heartbreaking sound.
Dustin stirs. “Hmm? Wha’s wrong?” He lifts his head up from Eddie’s shoulder, and his eyes meet Claudia’s, and he’s suddenly wide awake, scrabbling upright. “Mom.”
Eddie’s mouth keeps moving, like he’s desperately searching for words. “I-I’m not—” His breathing catches again, eyes wide; Claudia realises, with a heavy heart, that he’s deeply afraid of her. “It’s just a stupid board game, I swear.”
“Mom,” Dustin says again. Pleading.
And of course, Claudia never once believed the frenzied cries about Satanic rituals. Still, throughout that awful Spring Break, knowing that her son was lying to her, all she could think was that she was once a teenager, too—remembered how easy it could be to get caught up in something scary, something beyond your control.
She looks into Eddie Munson’s eyes, and knows deep in her bones that she has nothing to fear from him.
She beckons Dustin over, hands him the car keys.
“There’s a pillow on your seat, hon,” she says softly, because there’s a sleepy haze returning to his eyes despite his obvious concern for Eddie.
Dustin blinks, so unsure.
She smiles reassuringly. It’s okay. I promise.
“Okay,” Dustin says slowly, and he looks back at Eddie, raising his eyebrows like he wants to convince him of something. “See you tomorrow, Eddie.”
Eddie nods, but doesn’t speak.
He lifts his hand in a weak wave as Dustin leaves. It’s shaking. Claudia sits down by the bed. Puts her hand in his.
Eddie stares at her.
“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I’m so sorry for what we did to you.”
Eddie shakes his head, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You didn’t—” He clears his throat. “It wasn’t you.”
Claudia shakes her head, too, slowly—prays that he can really hear this. “No, no, please. Listen to me. I’m so sorry.”
It would be an easy thing to say, that the town of Hawkins wronged Eddie Munson. But that would make it sound so impersonal: like it was inevitable, just one of these tragic things that happened, nothing to be done about it. Like earthquakes.
But that wasn’t true. People were behind this, and Claudia knows that they are all the town, every single one of them. And what did it say about them, that the fear and mistrust and cruelty spread like wildfire? That not one adult in the town hall stood up, begged people to stop, to think again?
“Th-thank you,” Eddie says. It sounds so uncertain, almost like a question.
Claudia squeezes his hand. “You were with Dustin, weren’t you?” she asks. “When the earthquake…”
His hand is shaking again.
“Yes,” he whispers. “I-I’m sorry, I—” He swallows. “I didn’t want a-anything to happen to him.”
“Oh, honey.” She reaches out cautiously, and when he doesn’t freeze up, she cups his cheek; her heart breaks at the rough indent of a scar beneath her palm. “You’re not God.”
Eddie reaches up, pressing her hand further against his cheek. He’s crying.
Claudia wipes his tears away as much as she can. She keeps up a steady murmur: “Shh, shh. I know you kept him as safe as you could. I know, I know. Shh.”
When he starts to calm, she thanks him again, but for something lighter.
“Dusty… he was so nervous, starting high school. But his first day, when I picked him up, all he could talk about was getting invited to have lunch with… well, a club.” Claudia smiles. “Oh, he was talking a mile a minute, I could hardly keep up. But I… oh, Eddie, I understand now. That was you.”
Eddie grins back. His cheeks are still wet.
“I didn’t do much,” he says. “You’ve…” For a moment, his eyes fill up again, but they look like happy tears. “You’ve got some kid, Mrs Henderson. He’s—he’s a real gem.”
She laughs. “Oh, I know.”
It’s one of the many things she loves about Dustin: that he’s always been so unashamedly, so joyously himself.
And Eddie had clearly seen that in him, had taken him in and nurtured everything that made him so.
The door abruptly slams open.
Steve’s in the doorway; he must’ve been running, is still gasping for breath as he says, panicked, “Claudia, I can—”
“Steve,” Eddie says softly, and that’s all.
But it’s clearly enough, because Steve’s shoulders drop in relief, and then he’s shutting the door, coming to Eddie’s bedside like he belongs there, and Eddie’s smiling at him, so tenderly…
And oh, she was young, once. She knows what she’s looking at.
Of course, she doesn’t mention it, can still sense some residual anxiety radiating from them.
Instead she looks around the room, spots a pile of laundry in the corner. It’s been stuffed into a bag; she recognises that as belonging to Steve, but there’s some shirts in there that are definitely Eddie’s, entwined with Steve’s things.
She stands, but before she can even pick up the bag, it seems like Steve’s read her mind, because he’s stepping forward, stopping her with a touch to her forearm.
“Oh, you don’t have to—I’m taking care of it, Claudia.”
She pats his cheek, lingers there until he smiles. “I know, sweetheart. But… would you let me? It’s the least I can do.”
Eddie reaches up from the bed, squeezes Steve’s elbow. Steve sighs, briefly leaning into him.
“Okay,” he says. “That’s… thank you.”
“As long as you do one thing for me.”
“Of course,” Steve says immediately. “Anything.”
Claudia brings out a notepad and pen from her bag. “Write me a list? Anything you’d like, I’ll be shopping anyway.” She looks Steve in the eyes, adds firmly but with a smile, “It’s no trouble.”
Steve takes the notepad, twirls the pen hesitantly.
“Anything you’d like,” Claudia repeats. She glances at Eddie, says, “You know, if you want a different shampoo than what they have here, things like that, or—”
“Oh, uh, it’s okay,” Eddie says quickly. “Whatever’s on sale is—”
“I know, honey,” Claudia says patiently, “but what would you actually like?”
The last extended hospital stay she’d had was fifteen years ago; Dustin had been a preemie, and one of the few things that kept her calm was the familiar: scents, food, people…
Steve chuckles. “I’ve got it.” He writes on the notepad, and Eddie must be able to read it, because he suddenly turns a little pink.
“How did you know that?”
Steve shrugs, smiles. “I notice things.” He writes down just a couple more things, then hands the list back. “Thank you so much, Claudia.”
“Any time, sweetie, I mean it.” She hugs Steve goodbye, then reaches one last time for Eddie’s hand on the bedspread. “It was lovely to meet you, Eddie. Hope you can go home soon.”
“Yeah, me—me too. Thank you, Mrs Hend—” Steve squeezes Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie stops. Smiles. “Thank you, Claudia.”
She looks back once to shut the door behind her. Steve’s pulling up a chair, as close as he can get, and as the door closes, she hears him tut softly, gently swiping at the remaining trail of tears on Eddie’s face: “Hey, what—?”
They look like they belong together. Dustin’s boys.
Dustin’s asleep in the car, pillow pressed against the window. Claudia puts the bag of laundry in the trunk before quietly slipping into her seat.
Dustin wakes anyway as they drive out of the parking lot. “Eddie… okay?”
“He is, honey. Steve’s with him.”
“Mm… good.” There’s a pause, and Claudia thinks he’s fallen asleep again, but then he says, tentative, “Mom?”
“Yes, Dusty?”
“If I tell you something… d’you promise to keep it private?”
“As long as it’s not hurting anyone.”
“It’s not,” Dustin says firmly. “Um. Steve and Eddie, I think… I think they’re…”
Claudia smiles, nods encouragingly. “Oh, that’s lovely.”
Dustin hums in agreement. “They’ve not told me. Did I… do something wrong?”
“No, baby. You just keep doing what you’re doing.” Claudia feels a lump in her throat. “You’re a good friend.”
Dustin makes an uncertain noise.
“You are, baby. They love you very much, you know that, right?”
“Yeah.” Dustin sighs. “I know.” His eyes are closing.
“Sorry, baby, just before you sleep—are there any candies Steve and Eddie like?”
Dustin nods. “Eddie likes anything sweet. An’ Steve…” He yawns. “Anything w’peanut butter.”
“Great. Thank you, honey.”
Dustin’s already asleep.
Claudia knows that even with what she’s learned today, she still only has half a story, if that. That there’s something more to Dustin’s exhaustion, to just how Eddie ended up in a hospital bed.
Today, she’ll do all she can. It’s not a lot, but it’s something. Laundry and shopping, reading the brand of shampoo Steve wrote with a careful eye. She’ll fill her cart up with treats, things that won’t solve anything; they might make staying in that hospital room just a little easier, though. Make it feel a little warmer, a little more like home.
But first, she’ll take her boy home; she’ll park the car as close to the front door as she can get, and when he doesn’t stir, she’ll run a hand through his hair, gently put him to bed.
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gtgbabie0 · 1 year
Note
can i request a leon x reader, where leon takes polaroid pictures of reader and keeps some in him wallet. fluff or nsfw you pick 💕
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Polaroids
{Leon keeps Polaroids of you}
This has been eating at my mind, I need him so bad!!
!18!
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Leon isn’t joking when he says he loves you from every and any angle, and he certainly wasn’t joking when he asks to take pictures of you, very raunchy pictures, for his eyes only because god knows Leon Kennedy doesn’t share especially when it comes to you.
That’s why you let him because you know for a fact they won’t be seen by anyone but him and because the idea excites you more than you care to admit.
“Fuck- such a pretty girl” You can hear the machinery in the Polaroid as it pushes out another picture, Leon’s free hand rubbing along your thigh, as you sit on his lap.
His fingers trace against the lace of your underwear, so delicately that you almost don’t even feel it, “Absolute Angel, my angel” he says noticing the way your hips grind against him in a desperate attempt to feel something, and you smile proudly when he lets out a shaky breath.
He loves how needy you’ve become, whining about how he’s ‘wearing too much’ as your hands grasp at the ends of his shirt urging him to take it off, but he’s quick to swat them away.
“Leon, take it off” you whine once more, fingers playing with the end of his shirt, it isn’t fair that he’s still clothed while you’re near enough naked sitting on top of him.
His hands continue to run along your thighs, “Such a needy thing” he says, leaning to press kisses to your neck a clash of teeth and tongue against the sensitive skin, and your hands thread through his hair urging him closer to you as he trails along your collar bones, and you can’t stop your hips from stuttering against his as his hand pushes against your lower back bringing you closer to him.
He pulls away, as he takes his shirt off and you watch how his muscles tense and move with the movement as he throws the fabric in the corner of the room, your hands instantly go for his stomach, gentle fingers tracing along his abs up to his chest, you notice the way his muscles tense at your delicate touch, Leon almost seems prideful at they way you gawk at him.
“Smile for me angel,” he says as he unclasps your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders, he points the camera to your chest, “Touch yourself baby” he prompts, watching as your hands squeeze at your boobs, he takes the picture, the dim flash lights the room for a second, and you hear him groan at the sight, as you once again grind against him and you can feel him underneath you.
Your fingers wrap around his wrist slowly guiding his hand towards your lap, he presses his fingers against the wet patch that stains your underwear, and he’s quick to move the camera to capture the sight, his finger circling your clit through your underwear, “Touch me Leon” you sigh and he goes dizzy with nothing but desperate want.
You honestly don’t really remember much, that was until today, so perhaps that’s why you almost have a heart attack when you hand Leon his wallet, the pictures of you tucked away in one of the pockets.
You gasp in complete shock, “What?” He chuckles at your expression, how your mouth is slightly agape with surprise, “You don’t like them?” He teases and you’re far too embarrassed to respond with some snarky comment.
“Leon, why do you have them there? I mean in your wallet of all places?” You ask, hand clasping over your mouth as you look down at the Polaroids of you, there’s one of just your chest your boobs on full display while you squeeze at them, and another, just your hips against his as you sit on his lap, and you can see how hard he is underneath you.
He laughs at your embarrassment, “So I don’t get bored at work” he whispers kissing your forehead, and you shake your head at the thought.
“God Leon- that’s so gross” you sigh, trying to ignore the way he’s looking at you.
“Oh yeah? Because I remember you taking this one” he says pulling out another picture, and your heart almost stops at the sight of your fingers knuckle deep inside your cunt, wearing one of Leon’s old shirts, and you close your eyes as the memory comes rushing back,
“That one is my personal favorite” he whispers pressing a kiss to your jaw and you go silent with shock, feeling very flushed, completely forgetting you had done that.
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Text
accidental eavesdropping (steddie ficlet)
based on this post by @imjust-that-shy. i hope i did this vision justice <3
The doors to the bathroom burst open, and - on some pure, inexplicable instinct and with nearly inhuman speed - Eddie darts back into the stall he'd just been about to come out of and leaps to perch on top of the toilet seat, crouched there like some sort of creature. 
He hears the sound of retching and the stench of vomit fills the air. He holds his breath, wrinkling his nose and trying to imagine what possible context could be behind Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley bursting in here together to puke their guts out. Eddie knows the two of them work together, he’s seen them sharing shifts at Scoops Ahoy when he's walked by. (Not that he often intentionally passes by the ice cream parlor and slows down just to catch a glimpse of Steve or anything… Although who could really blame him if he did? Like, come on, Steve in that uniform? Hello, sailor.) His mind is busy spinning stories of possible explanations, ranging from spoiled ice cream to sneaking alcohol and getting too drunk during their break. 
Eddie's leaning towards the 'drinking on the job' explanation, especially when the retching finally ceases and Robin says something about the room no longer spinning. Those little rebels, Eddie thinks approvingly.
“When’s the last time you, uh…peed your pants,” Steve is asking Robin now, in response to her telling him in a Russian accent to interrogate her. 
Eddie curls over his knees, tilting his head to try to peer through the gap between the stalls and the floor to put an image to his eavesdropping. Might as well, he’s kind of stuck here and there’s really not much else he can do right now. He can see Steve’s legs, one bent and the other stretched out in front of him, and Robin in the stall past him laying on the floor with her legs up against the stall wall as she answers, “Today…” 
“What?” Steve questions.
“When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw!” Robin says. 
Okay…what? Russian doctors and bone saws? Eddie’s now thoroughly intrigued, if a little (okay, a lot) confused. Maybe they’re talking about a movie they watched or something.
Steve’s legs shake with his laughter. “Oh my god.” 
“It was just a little bit, though.” Robin pinches her fingers together as she twists her body in Steve’s direction while he laughs again and mutters that whatever it is they took is still in her system. She pushes her feet off the stall and slides to sit against the opposite wall. Eddie can only see her legs now. “Okay, my turn. Have you…ever been in love?” 
Steve answers that he has, with Nancy, and makes a sound mimicking an explosion. Eddie remembers that, remembers seeing Steve and Nancy being all touchy and cute in the hallways at school while he was trying his damndest to convince himself that he absolutely definitely did not wish he was in Nancy’s place. It didn’t work very well. And it’s not working very well now either as Steve starts to go on about some new girl he likes now instead - some girl who’s funny and smart and can crack secret Russian codes (okay, seriously, what is it with these two and Russians?) and oh shit, he’s talking about Robin. 
Eddie very suddenly feels like he should not be here listening to this, eavesdropping on Steve confessing his feelings for someone. Not only is that, like, a private and personal thing, but also what if Robin likes him back and they start kissing or something right here in this bathroom where Eddie has to sit here and listen to it and that would just be horrible for him for so many reasons and- Eddie’s getting ahead of himself. Robin hasn’t even said anything yet, and her knees are pulled up to her chest and her voice shakes when she confirms she’s still alive after Steve asks if she’s OD’d there in the silence and she uncurls with a deep sigh. All signs that she doesn’t actually like Steve back. 
Eddie watches as Steve shifts and slides under the stall into Robin’s, and catches sight of the nasty bruise marring nearly half of Steve’s otherwise beautiful face as he does so. Now concern has been added to the list of emotions this eavesdropping experience has rollercoastered him through so far. The bruise looks fairly fresh and Eddie can’t help but wonder what the hell gave Steve a black eye like that and if he’s okay. 
After a brief spiral of concern for Steve’s face, Eddie tunes back into reality to find himself staring at Steve’s ass as Steve now sits with his back against the stall wall opposite Robin. Eddie blinks, expands his tunnel vision to include Steve’s lower back and Robin’s legs which are also visible beneath the gap in the stalls. 
“It’s not because I had a crush on you,” Robin is saying. “It’s because…she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”
“Mrs. Click?” Steve sounds confused.
“Tammy Thompson,” Robin clarifies. “I wanted her to look at me.”
Oh. Eddie should really not be listening to this. Robin is trying to come out to Steve, trying to share something deeply personal and vulnerable with him and only him, not knowing that she’s outing herself to an eavesdropping near-stranger as well. Eddie feels violating and intruding. He can’t imagine how he would feel if he found out someone he barely knew had been secretly listening in on him coming out - probably not great, probably terrified. This is something he shouldn’t know, not like this. 
“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl,” Steve says, his tone unreadable, and Eddie’s heart nearly stops, sure his own anticipatory anxiety is likely only just a fraction of what Robin must be feeling right now. 
“Steve…” 
“Yeah?” A pause. “Oh,” Steve’s voice goes soft. “Oh… Holy shit.” 
“Yeah,” Robin sighs. Eddie can see her hands nervously rubbing at her shins. “Holy shit.” 
Steve is silent for a few painfully long moments. Eddie’s hands curl nervously around his own shins. Is Steve going to be homophobic? Should Eddie be worried for Robin now? 
“Steve, did you OD over there?” Robin asks, trying to be light but Eddie can hear the anxiety in her voice. 
“No, I just, uh- just thinking,” Steve responds. 
“Okay…” Robin’s voice is barely audible. Eddie is holding his breath.
“I mean, yeah,” Steve says finally, “Tammy Thompson’s cute and all, but the only reason I never gave her the time of day was because I was too busy staring at Eddie Munson.” 
The aforementioned Eddie Munson releases the breath he’d been holding with an involuntary squeak and claps a hand over his mouth. Thankfully, neither of them heard him over the sound of Robin shouting. “What?! Eddie Munson?! You liked Eddie Munson?” she squawks, voicing Eddie’s own stunned thoughts perfectly.
“Yeah,” Steve confirms casually, completely unaware that he's throwing an eavesdropping Eddie into an absolute crisis right now. There's a soft thudding sound like Steve's hitting the back of his head against the stall wall. His voice gets kind of wistful, almost dreamy, as he says, “His rings, man. Rings and tattoos…and that long hair and those chains he'd wear… Honestly just his whole punk aesthetic thing had me mesmerized.” 
“Pretty sure he's metal, not punk,” Robin corrects him. 
Thanks, Robin. Also, what the fuck is happening right now? 
“Whatever. Still hot as hell,” Steve says. 
Eddie squeaks again and practically shoves his whole fist in his mouth to keep himself from making any more noise, his teeth knocking against his rings. The rings Steve likes, apparently. He feels like he's going to pass out, his heart beating so erratically it's making him lightheaded. King Steve - the popular, preppy, stupid, gorgeous, dumb jock Eddie's been crushing on since forever - just called him hot????  
“Did you hear that?” Robin asks suddenly, voice low and cautious. 
Shit. 
“Is anyone else in here?” Steve calls out. 
Fuck. 
Eddie bites down hard on his knuckles and holds his breath, going impossibly still. If they get up and search the bathroom, then he’s about to be caught red handed, crouched on top of a toilet seat with his fist in his mouth and his face flushed scarlet, eavesdropping on their private conversation about secret Russians and gay crushes. Eddie contemplates falling into the toilet and attempting to flush himself down it. Every god imaginable is receiving a silent prayer from him right now as he watches apprehensively through the gaps in the stall. One of those gods must've heard and taken pity on this poor gay disaster of a man crouched like a goblin in a bathroom stall, because after a few horrible seconds of silence, all Steve does is lean down to peer beneath the stalls for a moment before sitting back up and saying, “Looks empty. I think the drugs are making us hear things.” 
“Yeah, probably,” Robin says. Then she giggles, knocking her leg against Steve’s. “I still can’t believe you were into Eddie.” 
Steve flicks Robin’s knee. “I can’t believe you were into Tammy.”
“What’s wrong with Tammy?!” Robin protests.
“What’s wrong with Eddie?” Steve counters. “At least he’s actually got talent. Tammy’s a total dud - she wants to be a singer and shit but she can’t even hold a tune.” 
Eddie is going to die. He is actually going to die right here, right now, because Steve Harrington thinks he’s hot and talented. And then Steve starts mimicking Tammy, singing Total Eclipse of the Heart in a ridiculously goofy voice, and now Eddie is going to die because he finds that so stupidly endearing and adorable. Maybe he should just flush himself down the toilet, save himself from this hopelessly pathetic crush of his. Instead, he’s saved by the bathroom doors bursting open again and a new voice shouting at them, “Okay. What the hell?!” 
Steve and Robin collapse into a fit of giggles before being dragged to their feet by the newcomers and led out of the bathroom, leaving Eddie alone and reeling and struggling to process literally everything he’s just overheard. He finally hops down from his toilet perch and exits the stall like he’s in a daze. He’s not sure how long he had been camped out in there - probably only about ten minutes - but it felt like hours, so long that the world outside of that single bathroom stall almost feels foreign and unfamiliar now. 
Eddie grips the bathroom sink and stares at his flustered reflection in the mirror and whispers to himself, “What the actual fuck?” 
---
Later, years later, only after he and Steve are already dating, Eddie tells him all about this experience, and Steve laughs so hard he nearly cries.
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omg i understand its okay🥹🤍
then can i request a fic w lando where the reader is really down lately, not eating or sleeping and just like sad because she’s feeling rly nostalgic and theyre away from home and she’s like scared of growing up (even tho she’s like barely 21) and lando gets really concerned when he notices shes losing weight and sleep and stuff so he confronts her and she breaks down😔 sry if that made no sense again just smthn im going through because i keep listening to ribs by lorde
We Have A Life Together - LN
First of all, I hope you're ok. Please make sure you're taking care of yourself, if you're that young it's so important to know that you there's good and bad days for all of us. But never ever put selfceare as the last priority.
I am going to alter this slightly. I'm going to make her closer to Lando's age, if that's ok, just bc I have an idea that I feel like would work well for the fearing growing up idea.
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Y/n loves nothing more than being there to support Lando, she wants to see him succeeding. But sometimes these things come at a cost for herself.
Y/n hasn't been sleeping or eating for what feels like weeks, maybe months now.
"Baby...are you coming with me or joining later?" Lando asks, waking her up from the depth of sleep as he kisses her shoulder, his hands either side of her body to keep himself held up over her.
"Later. I'm still tired." Y/n murmurs not opening her eyes and while she hears a sigh from the driver before he kisses her skin softly again.
"Ok, I'll see you later." He states while she tries not to grimace, though her face is pressed mostly into the pillow so he can't really see it. "Make sure you order something from room service. You missed breakfast."
Y/n knows it's a new low to pretend to sleep just so she can rot in bed but it's the only thing she has the energy to today. In the moment, she can't possibly think of anything worse than getting up and trying to look presentable.
When her alarm goes to let her know she's really pushing her luck to get showered, ready and to the paddock before Lando is actually out on the track. She finally peels herself out of the bed and drags herself to the bathroom.
She's began to lose the ability to recognise herself. The dark bags weighing her whole face down, she's exhausted. The lack of sleep is visibly and her face has hollowed out by the lack of appetite that's meant she's lost weight too, only adding to her woes.
It's only a matter of time before Lando breaks up with her. They might be getting older but the two of them are not nearing the point of "for better or worse" so he's got no obligation to stay with her while she stops taking care of herself.
After her best efforts to look more alive and less like a dead body walking. She finally leaves, getting a car to the paddock and making her way inside.
Her mind wanders, as it seems to a lot recently, leaving her bumping into a body and with her lack of eating means her ability to react quick enough to catch herself leaves her landing ungracefully on the ground.
"Ow." Y/n winces as the body she bumps into rushes to aid her getting up.
"Y/n, I'm so sorry." George states as he hooks his hands under her armpits and nearly throws her up onto her feet. "Oh bloody hell, sorry. You're lighter than I expected. Nearly caused more injury there. Are you alright?"
"No. No. I'm fine. It's my fault, I wasn't even looking where I was going." Y/n rambles shaking her head and noticing George frown at her. "Have you seen Lando? Just easier to ask than go looking and find he's not in the unit."
"I saw him doing some video content with Oscar. I think they're out on the track to be honest." George states then clearing his throat. "Are you sure you're alright? You hit the ground pretty hard."
Y/n thinks of the ache humming through her bones from the impact. Losing weight certainly means less cushioning for falls in clumsy moments.
"I'm good, certainly landed myself with worse injuries on a night out on the town." Y/n jokes managing to give the blonde brit a genuine smile. "I should go, I got here late. Needed extra sleep."
That seems to go unbelieved if George's expression is anything to go off of. Not that she's surprised, her attempts at covering up her exhaustion haven't done much to really improve anything.
"I'll see you guys later." Y/n smiles before she rushes off trying to locate her boyfriend. The last thing she really wants is to have to deal with other people, she was hoping to find him on his own. The marketing girls can get a little possessive over the McLaren drivers' attention being on anyone but them when they're trying to make content and Lando is...easily distracted by his girlfriend.
After about 10 minutes of looking, she manages to locate them.
They're doing some sort of race but as she appears she sees the marketing team deflate.
Lando is in the car with Oscar and when she walks over to the team, one particularly nasty girl looks her up and down.
"You look awful, when Lando said you'd be here late. I thought you might be actually making an effort when you come here." Katie comments making her sigh a little before deciding to remain quiet with young woman.
"Baby! There you are. I got your message but I was told off for being on my phone." Lando chuckles as he jumps out the car and moves to her, though he notices an injury both her and George really hadn't noticed. "Are you bleeding?"
His large hand grabs her wrist and shoves a scrap that she really hadn't noticed.
"Oh, uh...yeah. I bumped into George when I was on my way and fell over like an idiot." Y/n explains trying to be nonchalant as Lando inspects her injury. "Honestly, just wasn't looking where I was going."
"Guys, are we done?" Lando asks looking at the marketing team.
"Well we wanted to-"
"Sounds like a yes. I'm just taking y/n to the medical centre to clean her up." Lando states making the marketing team watch with strained smiles as they nod.
At one point they had tried to speak up to Lando about y/n disrupting content recording. So he told them that if they had something like that to say ever again then he'd be happy to tell them to fuck off, as he did on that occasion.
After she's cleaned up with instruction to be more careful Lando pulls her to his drivers' room.
"What did you get to eat?" Lando asks, already knowing the answer that she's about to give him.
"Oh uhh...I ended up not ordering. Figured I'd get something here." Y/n smiles always trying to appear happy and positive with her boyfriend especially when they're in the paddock and around his work.
"Baby, we need to talk." Lando states making her swallow thickly and look at him with a sigh. "What's going on?"
"What do you me?" Y/n questions with a small laugh and strained smile.
"Y/n, you're exhausted. You think I don't know you're not sleeping and not eating? I'm not blind. So can you please tell me why so I can help you however I need to so you are sleeping and eating again?"
Y/n knows that for Lando to call her out, it's his breaking-point. He doesn't like to talk about this sort of thing unless completely necessary.
"I'm scared." Y/n whispers knowing that to try and deny it would be a pointless effort.
"Scared of what?" Lando asks softly, almost fearing that it's him that's scaring her.
"It's just...everything is moving so quickly. You're 25 next year, and then I'm 25 after that and I miss home-god, I just I feel so homesick but then when I go home. I almost feel homesick with being away from you. I just feel like I'm getting left behind or being dragged along and I feel like such a burden to you. The anxiety is stopping me from sleeping and just the thought of food when it's in front of me makes me feel nauseous." Y/n starts crying harder and harder as she speaks and rambles.
"Ok, ok. Ok, let's just breathe and calm down." Lando soothes standing up and rushing to stand with her. "I've got you, just breathe with me."
His arms squeeze her as tightly as he feels like he can without making her heavy breathing worse.
Bjut eventually she's calmed down.
"Alright, baby. Do you know what I think?"
"What?"
"I think we need to get our families coming out to a few more races so you don't have to feel so homesick. We need to get more of your stuff over to our place in Monaco so you feel more at home. And you need to remember that...we are getting older but whenever I think of our future I think of...what ring I might get you...how you might look when I see you on the day of our wedding being walked down the aisle by your dad...how amazing you're going to look pregnant with any one of our kids...what we're going to speak the years after I retire doing because god we'll have so much time that you'll wish I would just leave you alone, but I won't. I can't imagine a future without you, but we have soooo much time before all of that. Well...most of it, maybe somethings will be coming sooner rather than later."
Y/n does finally smile in a way that he knows is her real genuine smile that isn't forced for anyone else's benefit.
"You're confident I'll be saying yes to a proposal."
"You can say that, but we both know I'm not wrong...look, it's ok to get in your head. But just tell me and I'll reassure you and let you know if it's worth being so neglectful towards yourself. Which for the record it's not. Especially when I am superhuman and can and will do anything and everything as a solution to whatever you're upset about, ok?"
"Ok."
"So does everything I said sound ok? Are you happy for us to figure this out all together?"
"Yes."
"Now, can we get you like three plates of food to eat. I'm going to sit with you and eat too, and make sure you eat everything I give you."
"Alright."
"Good. Well lets get moving because no better time like the present. Plus I'm hungry too." Lando smiles while moving to kiss her which she is more than accepting of before he manages to scoop her up. "Just in case you were planning on making a run for it. Or bumping into another driver who can apparently cause more damage than you realise."
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