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#he's trying to deflect attention from himself as THE offer
daycourtofficial · 1 month
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I pretend you’re mine all the damn time
Summary: on a mission Azriel ingests a breeding tonic and you offer to help him release
Warnings: SMUT, PIV, sex pollen, slight dubcon
Author’s note: I think this is my longest fic ever and also probably the fic I’m proudest of so yall BETTER enjoy. I think this is my favorite fic I’ve ever written ugh 😩 I will likely write a part two 🫶
Word count: 2.6k
(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)
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“What the fuck,” you grunt, as you land a hit on another Illyrian after several minutes of exchanging blows.
You jab him in his ribs, blocking his retaliating kick. You huff as his hand grabs the knife at his side, deflecting your punch to his face.
You go low, swiping his legs out from under him, causing him to crash onto the ground. You climb on top of him, ready to land another blow, when his legs push up from underneath you, throwing you off of him.
He climbs on top of you, grabbing you by the collar to throw you back into the ground, when something strikes the back of his head, causing him to go limp on top of you.
Your confusion doesn’t last long as hazel eyes meet yours over the massive figure unconscious on top of you.
“I had it covered,” you said, pushing the male off of you.
Azriel snorts, “sure you did.”
He reaches out a hand, which you gladly take. He pulls you up with more force than he intended, pulling you in very close to his body. Your breath hitches, his smell of night-chilled mist and cedar invading your senses.
Your heart is beating wildly, and you’re sure he can hear it as he looks at you. He’s smiling down at you, a smile that weakens your knees and distracts you enough to forget all about the abandoned Illyrian camp you two were searching in.
At least, it was supposed to be abandoned, according to the intel you two had received. Azriel had asked you to come with him, the two of you making an exquisite pair on missions. Somehow you both knew when the other needed help, exemplified when Azriel hit the assailant from behind moments ago.
It’s like you both had a sixth sense for when the other was in danger.
You’re about to say something when something hits Azriel on the back of the head, causing him to lose his balance and stumble forward into you.
His mouth turns into a sneer, as he whips around and the Illyrian you hadn’t seen or noticed grabs Azriel by the collar, pushing him into a wall full of bottles and tubes. The guy grabs one of the random bottles from the wall, breaking the lid and pouring the powdered contents onto Azriel’s face.
“Shit,” the words come from your lips as your knife finds its mark in the dark haired male’s back. You rush forward, withdrawing the knife before turning him around and plunging it into his throat.
You don’t pay attention as the body falls to the ground, only moving towards Azriel, who was growing unsteady on his feet.
“Hey, hey, hey, I’m here, I’m here,” you say, placing your hand on his arm. He snatched his arm away from you, and you can’t help the sound that comes from you at his rejection.
He is groaning, sweat beading on his forehead. He leans further against the wall, trying to escape your reach.
“Don’t,” he grits out.
“What is it? Do you know what the powder was?”
Azriel finds his canteen of water, unscrewing the cap and pouring it over his head.
“Az,” you say, but a growl cuts you off.
“Don’t,” he grits again, “don’t say my name like that.”
“Like what?”
He braces himself against the wall, breathing heavily. He finally looks at you, allowing you to see his eyes. Golden irises have been replaced by blown pupils, a black pit of desire. The room is coated in the scent of his arousal.
“Azriel,” you say tersely, “we have to go now, we have to go and see Madja because I have no clue what you inhaled.”
Azriel pushes himself further against the wall as you approach him, trying to put as much distance between you two as possible.
“I can’t- I can’t winnow us out of here,” he says, the words strained. It’s then you notice that his shadows are nowhere to be seen, having disappeared when your attention was fully on the Illyrian in front of you.
You step closer again, and his chest heaves with the groan he lets out.
“Don’t. Touch. Me.” The words come out harsh and clipped, a tone he’s never taken with you. You’re trying desperately to think of a solution, a way out of this, when you see Azriel’s hand gripping his thigh, moving closer to his crotch.
His face is red with heat and embarassment, but you can’t look away as he begins to palm himself through his leathers, as if he wasn’t in control of his hand.
“Oh gods,” you say, “this was that experimental breeding shit, wasn’t it?”
Azriel nods, his throat tight with pain.
“Fuck,” you say, and he groans.
You think about what you know about the sickening breeding experiments some of the Illyrians were doing. Previous intel from Az had told you all that they had created this drug that made you-
“Oh my gods,” you say, “we have to-“
“No,” he snarls, “no. I can do this on my own.”
“Come on, Az, you’ll die if you don’t.”
He clinches his hands in a fist, his face turning red with restraint. He looks up at the ceiling, and his eyes are damp. His wings twitch and flutter.
“We don’t know that,” he says, his hand undoing the string on his leather, any control he had over the hand is gone as his hand wraps around his cock and he begins pumping it.
“Am I really that repulsive that you’d rather die than have sex with me?”
A moan comes from his mouth. His voice comes out quiet and strained, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“I need it to be real. With you - if we - can we pretend it’s real?”
You stop breathing, his words clanging through your mind. “What do you mean?”
The words. He can’t get the words out. His body is on fire. He’s the Night Court’s spy master, for Cauldron’s sake.
And he can’t fucking move. Not when you’re looking at him like that.
“This isn’t how I ever would have imagined our first time.”
“But you’ve imagined it?”
“Gods, yes.”
You step closer, your hand reaching out towards him. You look into his eyes, wanting to know that it’s okay. All you find in response is pleading. Your hands lightly touch the buckles of his armor, and he gasps, his movements in his pants growing faster at your touch.
A man starved. He gazes up at the ceiling, tears about to leak from his eyes at this entire impossible situation. You were going to ruin him. You were going to break his heart, and then have sex with him to keep this from driving him mad.
It was cruel. The mother was cruel for this.
“I’ve thought a lot about it too,” you whisper, your voice softly carrying through the room.
He whips his head down at you, watching your fingers undo his straps. Your touch cools his body, but not for long.
Desire roars through him, and it is taking every ounce of restraint not to rip off your clothes and take you. He’s fighting the primal instincts that the pollen targets, his hands itching to touch you, to ravish you, opting to focus on your words.
“I always wanted you to confess your undying love for me,” you chuckle, “or, sometimes when I’m alone in the middle of the night, touching myself to you.”
A strangled sob escapes his throat at your words, causing him to notice his surroundings for a second. He can smell you, and it pushes him even further in need.
He can’t stop his hips from moving forward, meeting your own. His hand retracts from his pants, wrapping around you instead to pull you closer. Every word from you causes his resolve to crumble just a bit more as his hips grind against yours.
You were a bit breathless at the action, so you say, “when I’m feeling romantic, you tell me you can’t dare to be away from me for another moment, and you need me.”
A snarl breaks from his lips, causing your arousal to deepen. You are soaked, likely through your leathers.
“But when I’m just needy, I like to imagine you hearing me moaning your name through the door, and you burst in, claiming me as yours.”
His mouth opens as he moans, and you push the fabric of his leathers off his chest, raking your nails down his torso.
“Gods,” he exhales, “I-“
You cut him off, needing to get the words and fantasies you kept so deeply buried out there, future consequences be damned.
“I need you,” you whisper, “I’ve needed you for a long time.”
You were well aware of how much pain he was in trying to delay this for as long as possible.
His eyes are closed as your fingers slide down to the strings of his leathers. You don’t let yourself think too much about what you’re doing, about how the flight home will be, about how after this your teeny, tiny crush on him will be blown out exponentially worse.
Your fingers gently undo the ties, and his hips seek out the heat of your hands, begging for the friction they could provide.
You slide his pants down, his hard, throbbing cock springing free at the loss of its confines. Your mouth dries a bit at the size of him and the blood rushing to both your cheeks and between your hips.
You look from his cock to his face, teeth clenched in restraint.
His eyes open to yours at the sound of your leathers unbuckling, a soft, “no” hitting your ears.
“Azriel,” you start, but a moan escapes him at his name on your tongue.
He starts chanting your name like a prayer, over and over, a cadence to his chantings as you peel off the top of your leathers, exposing the expanse of skin underneath.
The chanting continues as you pull off the bra you wore, baring your chest to him completely. His hand wraps around his cock, the tip already angrily leaking in desperation.
The chanting picks up in tempo as you undo the strings of your own pants, eyes not straying from his as he strokes himself to your half-naked form. You push your pants down, pushing your underwear down as well, pulling them off with your boots, kicking your discarded clothes into a corner.
You walk back towards him, the sounds of his stroking and panting utterly sinful through the room. His breath hitches as you near him, reaching a hand out towards his cock.
“May I?” You ask, and you want to laugh at the formality of it, if you weren’t terrified of him saying no.
He nods lightly, his throat bobbing, and your fingers graze his as you grab onto his cock, wrapping your hand around it. His wings spread out at your grasp, head tilting back.
You take the opportunity to kiss his neck, and his grip on the desk is turning his knuckles white.
Your strokes don’t slow down, and it’s not until now that you feel just how wet you are. You feel bad, your arousal a byproduct of the state he’s in. He can’t help his arousal, but you can help yours.
You don’t let the shame linger for too long as you spread your palm across his chest, pushing him down onto the desk, crawling on top of him as he sinks lower.
His back hits the desk, his large membranous wings spread out behind him. Having him laid out beneath you, you allow yourself a few seconds to take in just how beautiful he was.
His tattoos covered his shoulders, making parts of his skin blend in with the darkness of the desk beneath him. His mouth parted slightly, head tilted back towards the skies, as if asking the heavens to watch your sinful acts.
You climb on top of him, the heat of your body driving him mad with desire.
“Is this okay?” You ask, trepidation coating your words.
“Gods, yes,” he replies, knowing he shouldn’t let this happen, but unable to stop himself. You’re hovering over his cock, the organ twitching as it feels just how close you are to sinking onto him.
The guilt is tampered down by the ever-growing need in his brain to breed, breed, breed. It was absolutely vile whatever these experiments were, but holy gods did it unlock a level of primal need he didn’t think existed.
His hands find your hips, and he can’t control how harshly he pulls you down onto his cock, a sharp inhale coming from you in the painful stretch.
He winces at the noise, but you stop him from allowing self-doubt to run through his head as you lean down and kiss him.
He moans into your mouth, his deep, harsh thrusts making the kiss nothing but teeth clacking and wet noises. Your nails dig into his skin as you keep grinding up and down on his cock, every thrust seemingly feeling deeper and deeper inside of you.
He keeps chanting your name, over and over, into your mouth, and you change the pace of your thrusts to coincide with it. His hands smooth over your hips, gliding up to your breasts. His fingers pinch your nipples, causing your back to arch around his touch.
You know he can’t hold out much longer - he’s painfully close, and so are you. Your stomach’s in knots, desperate for more, more, more. You reach out a gentle hand, caressing the nail on his wing. His eyes shoot open, wings flaring out as he gasps, emptying himself into you.
It causes the same effect in you, the both of you finishing at the same time. His thrusts slowed down, but he kept his tight grip on your hips. You can feel the pads of his fingers digging into your skin, leaving small bruises in their wake. Your foreheads are together, panting as he holds you for a moment.
For one glimmer of a moment, he’s holding onto you, sweat glistening on both of your bodies.
Status report.
Rhys’s voice fills your mind through the tiny opening in your mind you allow him to correspond with you in. You can tell Azriel is getting the same message as his eyes lose their shine, a glossy effect taking over them.
With a heavy heart, you pull off of Azriel, unable to respond to Rhys while his brother’s cock was still inside of you. You start pulling your leathers back on, covering the fluids and marks littering your body - the only proof of what just happened between you two.
The air is tense as Azriel dresses, still speaking with Rhysand. After a moment, his voice comes out, cold and detached.
“Let’s go,” he says, walking out of the room without another word, an icy air following him. Your gaze follows him out the door, before looking around the room.
The stench of sex is in the air, but there’s almost a hint of pain in the aroma. The air is suffocating you - you have to leave, you have to follow Az.
You look to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling. Your eyes turn down to gaze at your feet as you slowly trudge out of the room, knowing you likely just ruined your most important friendship.
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charliemwrites · 2 months
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Mafia!au part 5!
A bit of fluff, a bit of drama, a bit of Soap!
“Gooood morning, sir!” you sing as you sweep into Mr. Price’s office. “And happy birthday!”
His head shoots up from whatever he was brooding over, brows arched high in genuine shock. Surprise is a good look on him.
“How the bloody hell did you know it’s my birthday?” he demands, sitting back in his chair.
You beam, sauntering right up to his desk. His eyes flick to the round white box balanced on top of your tablet. Nothing big, a little something you baked at home after a couple dissatisfying trials.
“It’s my job to know,” you reply easily.
He blinks– a habit you flatter yourself thinking he might have picked up from you. “What else do you know about me?”
You tilt your head at him, a smug curve to your lips.
“Just the basics. Your full name and birthday,” you demure. Hold up your free hand and start rattling off on your fingers. “Height, allergies, tea preference, pastry preference, blood type, drink of choice…”
You set the box in front of him and resettle your tablet in the crook of your arm. He stares at you for a beat, expression bleached from surprise to outright shock. You spin your stylus around your fingers.
“Which is why I made you a marble cake with whiskey instead of rum.”
His eyes lock onto the unassuming white box. It’s not a big cake by any means, about six inches in diameter and only one layer. Just a small something for Price to have for himself. God knows the rest of the boys (and Farah) get enough treats from you as it is.
“You made this?” he asks, leaning a bit forward.
“Yessir,” you declare, “and I’m pretty good at it too. Perks of stress baking.”
He runs a hand down his face, as if his beard got ruffled. “Christ, you need a raise.”
“Yes. Anyway – I’ll get you a plate after I’m done,” you say, swatting at his curious hand. He huffs but sits back to give you his full attention. You smile in reward and begin reciting his schedule for the day.
He listens, only interrupting when he needs clarification on little details. You try not to be too endeared by the way his eyes occasionally flick to the covered cake. When you finish, you twitch your nose at him knowingly.
“I’ll get you a plate before I get started on that expense summary,” you say, turning on your heel.
You hum in surprise when a large, calloused hand catches your wrist. It’s not the hand of a businessman, you think, but a man used to work. A man who does the hard things for himself. Before meeting John Price, you would have scoffed at the thought of a rich man knowing labor. Price though… well, he’s been proving to be a welcome exception since the very start.
“Thank you for this, love,” he says, voice hitting that tone and pitch that makes your insides squirm. He caresses his thumb over the tender skin before releasing you. “Really.”
You can already feel the blush climbing up the back of your neck, over your ears, creeping onto your cheeks. Can’t ever catch a break with him.
“Well, don’t thank me ‘til you’ve tried it,” you try to deflect.
“Weren’t you the one saying you’re decent at baking.”
“Yeah, well… maybe I poisoned you or something – for that time you closed my skirt in the door.”
He sputters a bit. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the indignance on his face. Such a handsome, almost regal man. You love to rile him up.
“I apologized. Profusely.”
And offered to buy you a new skirt entirely. The way you’d shrieked that that was not an appropriate response made Soap choke with laughter as people stared.
“Yeah, well, I hold a grudge,” you reply, shrugging.
It’s true, but not about things like that. Graves and his assistant? Oh, that’s practically a blood feud at this point. A silly little accident where your boss left a crease in your fourth favorite skirt? That’s not even something to forgive him for, but you sure as hell will never forget. Especially when he still seems mildly sheepish about it.
“You wouldn’t be the first,” he grumbles. You’re not sure if he’s talking about grudges or poisoning, but the dramatics finally make you laugh.
“But I could be the last,” you call over your shoulder as you flounce out.
Not for long though, returning with a disposable fork from the breakroom. There’s something amusing to only you about a man in a thousand-pound suit using cheap plastic.
“Come to see me keel over for yourself, then?” he asks.
“Well, I can’t have you getting cake crumbs on the expense reports,” you reason.
He’s already got the lid open. No icing on the cake – you’re shit at decorating, so you chose a recipe without icing. The flavor of the whiskey and sugar should be plenty. To make up for it, you folded a tiny placard and wrote “Happy Birthday, Boss!” in your best loopy cursive.
He takes the fork, fingers brushing yours in the process. You remind yourself not to snatch your hand away like a scandalized Victorian lady. Christ, you really need to get it together.
“Tell me how you like it,” you say, making to leave again.
“Come try it yourself,” he protests.
You pause, give him an amused look. “I didn’t actually poison it, sir. You’ve not done anything that heinous. Yet.”
He snorts, carefully digging out a respectable bite from the edge. “If you see fit to toss a little rat poison in, then I’ll likely having it coming.”
You hum. “Arsenic is more my style. Classic.”
In the corner of the room, Simon makes a little noise you’ve come to recognize as repressed laughter. You shoot him a quick, amused look, before shifting your attention back as Price gestures with the fork.
“Regardless, you should get a little taste of the fruits of your labor,” he offers.
The fruits of your labor, you think with a bit of regret, will be his enjoyment of your baking. You’re not sure when his admiration became your favorite part of the day, but you’re spoiled for positive feedback from your otherwise stern boss.
“You first,” you insist, “it’s your birthday after all.”
He keeps unnerving eye contact as he brings the bite to his mouth, tongue flicking out to catch any spare crumbs. He hums, eyes closing a for a second in enjoyment, before opening and fixating on you again.
“That’s bloody brilliant, love.”
He scoops up another piece, brings it right to your mouth. You hurry to put a hand beneath in case it falls; don’t even think before parting your lips. Sugar and whiskey, chocolate and vanilla, burst across your tongue.
“Oh!” you hum, hiding your mouth while you chew. “That is pretty good.”
It only occurs to you as he takes another bite for himself, a twinkle in his eye, that you just ate after him. Used the same fork like it was nothing, like that’s an acceptable thing to do as his assistant. You’re not squeamish by any means, no. It’s just… it’s gotta be crossing some sort of professional line. You can’t imagine any of your previous bosses ever sharing with you like this.
“Let me tell you, if you did poison it,” he muses, “I wouldn’t mind it being the last thing I ate.”
You roll your eyes, swat lightly at his arm again. “I told you; it’s not poisoned.”
“I know, you just took a bite,” he answers smugly.
You click your tongue at him, playing at exasperated. “I’m going to work now.”
“Ta, love.”
--
“Oi, li’l miss?”
You glance up at Soap curiously.
(Recognize, in the back of your mind, that it’s a nickname that’s not only spread – thanks, Simon – but that you’re responding to as quickly as your own name now. You should probably feel some type of way about that. Probably righteously annoyed or something. You don’t.)
Soap is standing at your desk, shifting from foot to foot. Uneasy. But the expression on his usually friendly face isn’t nervous. It’s… something else. Something you don’t know how to decipher but makes you sit up a bit straighter, alert.
“What’s up, buttercup?” you ask, voice light.
“There’s some bloke down in the lobby, says he’s got a date with you?” he explains, frowning deeper than you’ve ever seen.
It gets deeper – and angrier – when he sees the blood drain from your face. You push your chair away from your desk to hide the tremble that’s trying to infest your hands.
Absolutely not. This is your place of work, dammit. Where you’re calm and collected, the person anyone can turn to for solutions. You’ve worked so hard to craft this sleek vessel of professional grace and you’re not about to have it sullied like this.
“He does not have a date with me,” you state, keeping your voice flat and tight. “Would you come down with me, please?”
“’Course,” he replies instantly.
You stop by Price’s office, knock twice, then poke your head in when he calls for entry.
“I’ve just got to pop out for a mo’,” you explain, “I’ll be right back!”
He nods and you duck out again before he can notice anything amiss. For a rich bastard, he’s too observant of others. (Especially you.)
“What’s he here fer, then?” Soap asks in the elevator.
You let out an annoyed puff of air. “A reality check, I assume.”
He side-eyes you but doesn’t ask any further before the doors open.
Sure enough, standing in the lobby, is the last man you want to see. Your ex, Brandon.
“There you are, bunny. You’ve been keeping me waiting for—”
“One, do not call me that. It’s inappropriate,” you interrupt, crisp and sharp. “Two, I haven’t been keeping you waiting, because there’s nothing to wait for. Three, get out.”
He rolls his eyes, that smarmy curve to his lips never leaving. You don’t think he’s even noticed Soap just behind you yet.
“Look, I know you’re still in a mood about everything,” he says, “but that’s why I’m taking you out. To smooth things over. Clear the air, and all that.”
“You’re not taking me out,” you repeat. “Get out.”
He crosses his arms, tilting his head in that condescending way you’ve always despised. It sets your teeth on edge, makes you burn with anger.
“This isn’t your building,” he goads, “you can’t kick me out.”
“Might as well be hers, mate,” Soap interjects, “she could kick out the goddamn queen.”
Brandon’s focus shifts to him. You feel a curl of vindictive satisfaction when his expression curdles a bit. Soap may not be a particularly tall man, but he can be intimidating. Built thick and strong, doesn’t bother to conceal his physique at all with his sleeves rolled up his forearms. And you’re not oblivious to his looks either. Soap is a handsome man. A walking ego bruise for a man like your ex.
“Fine,” he huffs, “then come outside so we can talk like adults.”
You click your tongue, fold your hands behind your back to conceal the way your fingers clench into fists. “We did talk like adults. You just failed to listen like one.”
And ohhhh, the petty satisfaction that bubbles through you at the way his teeth click in shock, a flush of embarrassed anger curtaining his face.
“Now, I’ll ask one more time and then my coworker is going to toss you out himself.” Soap chooses that moment to crack his knuckles. “Leave this building. You’re not welcome.”
You drop your arms and turn on your heel, ready to get back to work and compartmentalize this until you’ve got a fuck-off sized glass of wine in front of you.
“Hey, we’re not—”
Even if you did see what happened, you don’t think you could have followed. It happens so fast. One second, Soap’s eyes are on you. Burning with questions and fury on your behalf, checking that you’re okay. The next, he’s darted past you. There’s a scuffle, fancy shoes squeaking on polished floors, a thick, wet pop. Then Brandon is shouting in pain.
You jump, twist to see what the commotion is. Soap’s got a white-knuckled grip on Brandon’s extended wrist – though now it’s bent at an awful angle, you realize he must have been reaching for you. Your skin crawls.
“Away ‘n bile yer heid,” Soap growls, shoving Brandon back roughly.
He doesn’t fall on his ass but it’s a near thing. With the eyes of reception, a few employees, and you on him, he spits a curse at Soap and retreats. You stare after for a moment, lips parted in shock.
“All set, miss?” Soap asks, adjusting his sleeves.
“Um, yeah,” you say. Blink and pull yourself together. “I mean, yes. Let’s head back up before the boss misses us.”
He places a hand on the small of your back on the short walk back. It feels grounding rather than proprietary; you’re grateful for it. He lasts until the doors close before turning to you.
“The hell was that about, lass?”
You sigh, smooth your skirt down for lack of anything else to do. “That was my ex. He wants to… reconcile, I suppose. And he’s quite keen on getting his way.”
Soap mutters a few choice words under his breath. Scottish slang, you suspect. You’ll have to get him to teach you sometime.
“Anyway, thank you for your help,” you continue, eyes on the elevator doors. “I can’t believe he showed up here. I’m so embarrassed.”
“You’ve nothin’ to be embarrassed about, hen,” he protests. “He’s the creeper here.”
You sigh. “I know, I just… you don’t think less of me, do you? That I didn’t… take care of him myself.”
Soap’s expression softens. He draws you into a quick one-armed hug. “You did take care of ‘im, far as I’m concerned. I was just there to enforce. No need to mess up yer pretty nails, aye?”
You smile, small but genuine. “Thanks, again.”
“Anytime, li’l miss.”
The elevator chimes as it reaches the top floor. You turn to Soap just before the doors open.
“Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.”
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venuslore · 7 months
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𖥔 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑 𖥔
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summary ; eddie needs you and he needs you now.
pairing ; eddie munson × girlfriend!reader
notes ; nsfw, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, kinda public but not really, fingering. let me know if i forgot anything !
do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.
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when it came to you, eddie was needy – much like you were with him.  
it didn’t take a whole lot to set you off, and the second that something stirred in the pit of your stomachs, you needed the other to relieve it. you craved eddie’s touch just as much as he craves yours, so much so that you had almost created your own language for when you needed attention.  
eddie knew what it meant the second your bottom lip would jut forward slightly, big puppy dog eyes staring back at him and he would have to pretend like he wasn’t already imagining himself being buried deep inside you. that he wasn’t thinking about the way you looked down on your knees or with your skirt hitched up, ready for him to devour you.  
sometimes you would be in the most inconvenient of places and feel his hand firmly grasp your ass, or slip under your shirt, and his lips would immediately be drawn to your neck. it was his way of telling you that he was in the mood.
though, you wouldn’t give in to him all the time, and mostly you enjoyed watching him squirm as you tell him just how badly you were needing him, showing him a little more skin or subtly flashing him, and movie night with steve and robin was no exception to this.  
it took all but two seconds of eddie seeing the glint in your eye as you entered his trailer for him to know that he was already a goner. even more so when you waste no time in pressing your lips to his, your body leaning into him and almost knocking him off his feet. had steve and robin not already been there, you would’ve dragged him to his room before he could say a word.  
“well, hello to you too,” his words are muffled against the fruity softness of your lips and he kicks the door shut behind you. his hands reach to caress either side of your head, and he pulls away only long enough to smile at you, lips quirking up at the corners, “how’s my girl?” 
you draw in your bottom lip, attention wavering to steve and robin sitting on the floor not far behind him as they try to throw popcorn into the other’s mouth, “let’s just say... i don’t think i can wait an entire movie for us to be alone.” 
you hadn't seen eddie for a couple of days and the heat between your legs was only growing with every second that he wasn’t inside you. the moisture had started to gather just from the mere sight of him and it wouldn’t be long until it became unbearable.  
a sharp breath is all that leaves him, and he leans forward, “does the castle need conquering?” 
“the castle is seconds away from falling to shambles,” you pull him even closer, pressing another kiss to his lips. 
a thoughtful expression etches itself on eddie’s face, the gears turning in his head, and it takes every ounce of self-control for him not to come up with some excuse to get rid of steve and robin. but he couldn’t do that – no – they had been talking for weeks about how excited they were to watch the new scary movie that had come into the store.  
“okay, lovebirds, get a room,” robin sneers, curling her upper lip with disgust at you both. “or better yet, let’s start the movie.” 
eddie offers you his hand, a roguish grin on his face, but before he can pull you toward the sofa, you lean in close and whisper, “just so you know, i'm not wearing any underwear.” 
“holy fuck,” he exhales, eyes blown wide as his mind is instantly flooded with the idea of you wearing nothing underneath your skirt – taunting him to know that he had such easy access to your sweet spot and all he had to do was take it.  
for almost an hour, he tries to deflect his attention, tries to think of anything else, but even after steve had put the movie on and robin had turned off the lights, all he could think about was you and the way you felt wrapped around him.  
he sits on the end of the sofa with you leaning into him, your head perched just beneath his chin and a thin blanket you had stolen from his room covering your body. steve and robin had opted to sit on the floor, the two of them practically inseparable as their eyes remain trained on the screen. you weren’t even entirely sure what was happening in the movie, other than some guy running around with a mask trying to kill people, because, like eddie, you couldn’t stop thinking about him either.  
then, as if he had read your mind, his hand that had been wrapped around you, resting across your chest, slowly inches beneath the blanket to slip under your shirt, cupping your breast. you exhale, making sure steve and robin wouldn’t notice, before looking up at eddie as he adorns a devilish grin now.  
“apparently your underwear wasn’t the only thing you forget to wear tonight,” he whispers into your ear, referring to your lack of a bra, at the same time his thumb rolls over your nipple until its taunt. “just be quiet for me, okay?” 
you nod rapidly, already desperate and aching for him, and he slowly starts to inch his hand further down your body. you quietly spread your legs open enough for his hand to fit between your thighs without drawing any attention to yourself, making it seem like you were just getting comfortable.  
with steady movements, his fingers trail down to the band of your skirt, grasping at the thin material and pulling it up your thighs without trying to move the blanket. you stare up at him through your lashes, brows arching with anticipation, waiting for him to finally touch your sweet spot, when robin pops up from the floor to press pause on the movie. 
you had never seen eddie move as fast as he does to remove his hand from your core, thankfully going unnoticed as your chest races from the adrenaline. he presses his lips to the back of your head, though you know he’s just trying to cover up his laughter from almost getting caught.  
“do you guys wanna order the pizza now?” robin asks, unbeknownst to what had been going on right under their noses.  
steve is the first to nod, his hair flopping as he does, “i could go for pizza.” 
“yeah, we could – we could go for pizza,” you say, breathless and shaky as you do causing eddie to chuckle from behind you.  
robin takes it upon herself to call up the restaurant and place the order for delivery while eddie jumps up with a stiffness to his steps that only you seemed to pick up on, “the pizza is on me, just let me find my wallet.” 
he heads to his room, leaving you alone and vulnerable as you try to pull your skirt back down without making it obvious, ultimately pretending you were just fixing the blanket. though, the attention is diverted when eddie returns seconds later with empty hands.  
“i can’t find my wallet. you haven’t seen it, have you?” he makes haste of searching around the coffee table and couch for it but to no avail, even robin and steve join in the search, neither of them wanting to pay for the pizza if they didn’t have to.  
“did you check your room properly? you’re always losing stuff in there,” you shake your head, knowing that the likeliness of him losing it amongst his clothes and dnd stuff was far more likely than you cared to admit. he nods, sheepishly, lifting his shoulders into a shrug, and an exasperated sigh leaves your lips, “you two keep searching, we’ll be right back. c’mon dumb dumb, we’re gonna search your room.” 
grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you pull eddie back to his room, where everything looked normal and unturned. as if he hadn’t even bothered to look for his wallet. and that’s when you see it... his wallet... sitting on his dresser as clear as day. it’s then that you realize it was all just a ploy to get you alone and it worked.  
turning to eddie, you see that he’s already closed the door, a proud smirk plastered on his lips as he traipses across the room to meet you, “we have about three minutes before they start to wonder what’s taking us so long.” 
“then stop wasting time,” you raise a curious brow as he slowly lifts you onto the dresser. his lips barely an inch away from your own.  
he immediately takes your lips in a heated kiss, breathy and full of want, as his hands run along your body. one of yours gets tangled in his curls as the other glides down his torso and between his legs, much to his surprise. your hand is greeted with an aching erection.  
the touch causes him to jut and he moans against your lips as your fingers begin to get to work, grasping and caressing his dick. his breathing is uneven, hot, and heavy against your face. his hands are quick to assist in unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down for his length to spring up, hitting you where you needed him the most.  
your fingers begin to grow sticky the wetter his tip gets from your touch, and you steal a glance from him. his jaw is tensed, eyes almost closed, hazy with desire, and he groans your name lowly. he connects his lips with your neck, biting, sucking down on your skin, as he hitches your skirt up to reveal your cunt. so pretty and moist – just the way he liked it.  
wrapping your legs around him, prompting him to line himself up against you, he slowly glides himself up and down before entering your needy little hole. you can’t help but gasp at his thickness and it gets harder and harder to control your breathing when he’s working you open, his teeth leaving marks of sweet pain over your tender skin.  
deciding that he’s moving too slowly, you clasp your thighs harder around him, pushing him to fill you entirely. you have to throw your head into his neck to stop yourself from crying out, teeth clamping down on his skin while he waits a beat for you to adjust to his considerable size. and then he starts to move, slowly growing faster. his pace is rough and reckless – someone missed you.  
you know you don’t have time to savor the pleasure, you needed to get to work before steve or robin came barging in. you start to push back against his rhythm, squeezing him until you feel his legs start to give way. he’s close.  
his thrusts are fast, hard, making your body shake. he’s giving you all he’s got. 
“y/n... you first... cum for me,” he whispers in your ear.  
it only takes two more thrust for a wave of warmth to shower over you as he keeps pounding you through your orgasm. his arms tighten around you as his hips gyrate, pushing himself as deep as he can before filling your hole with his secretion.  
“fuck, eds,” you cry out, though it’s muffled by his hand as he slowly pulls out of you, watching as his liquids spill from you and into a puddle on the dresser.  
gently he helps clean you up and step back on the floor, pulling a pair of sweatpants from his drawer. kissing your trembling thighs, he removes your skirt and helps you slip on the pants.  
“we should probably get back,” he snickers, offering you his hand and grabbing his wallet with the other.  
as you exit the room, robin and steve seemed to have given up the search for eddie’s missing wallet. both of them laying on the floor throwing a ball to one another.  
“did you find it?” steve asks as the two of you approach, and you snatch it from eddie’s hand to show that you did.  
“i told him he just wasn’t looking well enough. found it in his dresser,” you faux roll your eyes and return to your seat on the couch with eddie.  
robin eyes you up and down, “i take it you also found them in his dresser.” she points to the grey sweatpants you now adorned. 
you open your mouth to answer at the same time the doorbell rings, saving you from the question. eddie simply tosses his wallet to steve and he and robin answer the door. when you look back to eddie, he has an all too familiar look in his eyes and you know that your night is far from over.  
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brainrotfm · 7 months
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the sideshow spectacular: week one
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☞ pairing: nurse!ryomen sukuna x f!reader
☞ word count: ~4.6k
☞ short description: yandere fertility nurse sukuna who thinks he's pulling a fast one on you except you're yan4yan and have masterminded this exact situation from the start
☞ content warnings: dark content, modern au, no curse au, yan4yan, yandere behavior, medical play kink, breeding kink, light bondage, inappropriate power dynamic, baby trapping, afab!reader, feminine descriptors + pronouns, blink and you miss it daddy kink, probably a lot more honestly i'm sorry for being a pervert
☞ notes: credit shhhhh don't look at what time this was posted i *definitely* made the cut off for week 1 also this came to me in a vision and then i feverishly wrote between today and yesterday also this is my first posted smut ever pls be nice also also also not beta'd not edited we die like men have fun xoxoxo
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You have turned him into a monster.
You, with your kind smile, the way you offer it so carelessly to every person you meet. You, with your adorable gestures, fidgeting and fiddling with pens, magazines, the edges of your skirts as you sit in the waiting room. You, with those trusting eyes, lashes fluttering at every passing sensitivity. He could read your emotions clear as day, and spent too much of his time doing so, pretending to work behind an antiquated desktop as he side eyed you.
The other nurses had caught on, of course - ever watchful hens, they were quick to pinpoint his interest in you, tutting at him in the break room only for a moment about it being inappropriate to desire patients. Their admonishments turned teasing without him interfering, settling into their usual lust for office gossip without another acknowledgement. In truth, his coworkers were delighted, in fact, by the pink haired man "softening" over you.
This would have drawn his ire, even his retaliation in most instances. Until Sukuna realized he was purposely being slid your chart whenever your monthly appointment rolled around, an unexpected convenience in Sukuna's intricate plan to claim you as his own.
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He had only heard of your husband in passing, the man only present at your introductory interview with the fertility team and the first few appointments before his obligation to you waned. Sukuna despised him for it on principle, but in practice, no other presence in the exam room meant having his bubble of heaven. A single half hour appointment, once a month, where he reviewed your chart, asked invasive questions about your health, took blood, gave the occasional ultrasound, offered advice on the repetitious nature of fertility treatments, and flirted his ass off as he watched you giggle and squirm under his attention. The prospect of cucking this faceless man only added to Sukuna's dark desires.
Today was finally the day. It was even circled on his desk calendar, red ink.
"You look handsome," you offered him the compliment easily, your voice obscuring the click of the door locking behind you both, back to him as you set your jacket on the extra chair. Sukuna preened for a second, smiling to himself.
Sukuna was wearing a tight, long sleeve black shirt beneath his favorite maroon red scrubs, the smallest hint of a chain beneath his collar, and comfortable black sneakers - none of his piercings, sadly, and since his interview, he had worn make up to cover his face and neck tattoos at work as well.
He knew you meant it too, as he diligently wore the exact same outfit to every one of your appointments since the first time you had complimented him all those months ago.
"Already buttering me up, you better not be trying to get out of your blood work," Sukuna teased as he opened one of the nearby cabinet drawers, retrieving his special black gloves that only he was allowed to use, quietly noting that none were missing with a smirk.
"You always remind me of a tattoo artist with those," you deflected, tossing him one of your oh-so pretty smiles.
"Y'know, I buy these with my own money, and I'm gonna let you in on a lil' secret... That's why, that's what I want you to think," Sukuna bantered back, so at ease around you that he rolled his sleeves up thoughtlessly before making a show out of snapping the nitrile against his wrists. He had never done that before.
You had caught wisps in the past, only question marks until today. Thick black bands of tattooed ink sat around his wrists, hidden now beneath his gloves that blended so well against them, it made sense why he liked them so much.
Your mouth went dry at the sight, licking your lips as you choked out to him, "I didn't know you had tattoos."
The tone of your voice had him raising a brow, lopsided smirk already in place, "Is that a deal breaker, baby?" If only you knew.
"Those can't be the only ones," you replied, and if Sukuna wasn't mistaken, there was a lilt of hope sitting between your words, causing his smirk to soften to a smile, his heart wrenching for a moment at you. You. He was going to ruin you.
That when he noticed that you were still standing awkwardly, your things deposited in the nearby chairs as you rocked on the balls of your feet, something about you seemingly overwhelming tense despite being in such good company. You were being different today too; Sukuna hoped you didn't sense something was amiss.
"Everything okay with you today, doll?"
"I, um... I was wondering if we could wait, actually, to do the ultra sound today," you started shyly, and he could tell you were fighting the urge to wring your hands as your fingertips jittered against your wrists. Despite your words, he continued to dig materials out of the cabinets, glancing at you over his shoulder as he spoke.
"You want to do blood first? Feeling bold today, sweet girl?" Sukuna hoped so, he had big plans for you. He turned from the cabinet to approach you to do the prep work. He didn't want to waste anymore time, but maybe having you light-headed from lack of blood wasn't such a bad idea - he stopped when he saw the look on your face.
"Is there any way I can have a physical exam today, actually? Y'know, like my annual one, but instead... now," your question was rushed as you looked toward him but not at him, and Sukuna knew this because he was staring you down, a predator honing in on his prey. He felt like he could hear your pulse from where he stood, and it made his mouth water.
"You mean your pelvic exam?" he repeated, almost dumbfounded at his luck - were you stupid or naive? Nurses didn't give pelvic exams, that was the doctor's job. Your chart only had an appointment for your usual round of bullshit, blood and ultrasound, Sukuna trying to upsell you hormones your insurance wouldn't cover, blah blah blah.
God, you were so pretty and dumb, was this on purpose? Were you trying to manipulate him? You'd been here enough times to know better, right ? When was the universe ever so giving? Sukuna figured there was really no way you'd fall for what he was about to try, sure this was your attempt at catching him red handed in his obsession over you, but he didn't care. He'd take the bait, even if it was a shot in the dark for you.
His head had cocked with his thoughts, a lopsided grin unfurling across his cheeks as he regarded you with darkening eyes, coughing to clear the husk of his arousal from his voice. "You know, the doctor has been in and out all morning. Something with her kids. I'd hate for you to get stuck waiting around for her. I could always administer the exam, if you'd like."
He very much could not, but he kept his wicked smirk in place, silently praying you wouldn't call his bluff. To Sukuna's delight, your gaze twitched between him and the exam table, knees rubbing together briefly before your hesitation subsided and you made a half step in its direction, wavering as you looked down at yourself. He understood in an instant, clicking his tongue in recognition as he went back to the drawers to dig out an exam gown for you, both your hands lingering on the package when he passed it forward.
"I'll step ou-"
"No, you can just... stay," you sounded much more confident now, cutting him off with a defiant look in your eye, the smallest curl of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, "You're going to see everything anyway, right? J-just turn around, maybe?"
You were so cute, he wished he could kiss you right then. Using every ounce of his control to suppress his smirk, Sukuna turned on his heel and faced the opposing wall dutifully, the urge to peek over his shoulder at you easy to resist when he knew exactly where all this was leading. As if the wheels hadn't been in motion since before you had even arrived today.
It was sort of erotic, though, to hear the jostle of your clothes hitting the floor, knowing you were naked and so close to him, and being unable to touch or see. Not yet. A little more patience and he knew he would reap the best of rewards. You cleared your throat when you were ready and Sukuna turned, unable to hid his smirk now that he saw you in the silly canary yellow exam gown they gave people here. You were still adorable, though.
Stepping to the side, Sukuna pulled out the lowest shelf of the table to act as a foot stool and help you up, before moving to each side to unfurl the arms of the stirrups he'd be putting your feet into. He couldn't think about it too much or his cock might hear, already on thin ice until you were properly restrained. The room had grown painfully quiet, Sukuna unable to continue joking with you when he was barely keeping his hands off you.
It was taking every ounce of his self control to not start panting and drooling like a dog at the way you quietly obeyed him, without question. So trusting... So easy, it took nothing to lead you down his path of corruption. His skin was starting to get hot, but Sukuna ignored the prickling beneath his shirt, knowing he needed to retain focus now more than ever. Oh, you were speaking. Fuck.
"I read online that during ovulation, there can be blockages that, like, can contribute to the problems I'm... having, you know," you were rambling, words rushed, and Sukuna realized you were embarrassed by the information you were offering. Cute, so fucking cute. You probably should be, it sounded like snake oil garbage, but Sukuna thanked whatever AI algorithm spat that nonsense into your brain as he nodded along.
"Hmmmm, well, that's only sort of true," he hummed through the lie easily, trying not to let his fingertips linger too long against the soft skin of your calf, your ankle as Sukuna strapped your left foot into place. He was even quicker with the right one, worried you may change your mind if he idled too long.
He used his foot to kick the rolling stool closer and sat down in a smooth motion. He couldn't give you a moment to think, because if he did, you may realize your mistake. Sukuna's hands were already beneath your gown as he rubbed both palms eagerly at your inner thighs, cooing from beneath you when you jolted at the sensation, "Hey, it's okay, it's just me. You trust me, yeah? I'm not going to hurt you."
Only some of it was a lie, but you eased regardless, somehow relaxing when you shouldn't be. Sukuna would've clicked his tongue, admonished you, if he wasn't the villain in this story.
"I'm going to look at you now," it was a command more than a question, not waiting for your consent before his hands are moving to your outer thighs, pushing the gown up easily, the fabric already wanting to give from the angle of your legs in the stirrups. It just needed some encouragement.
Glancing up at you, Sukuna noted your fluttering eyelashes and shallow breaths, and realized you probably needed some encouragement too.
"So beautiful," he couldn't stop his silky whisper, barely even trying to keep up the ruse that had put you here, careless as he finally gazed at your perfect pussy, splayed out wide for him. He wanted to touch. He needed to taste.
"Y-yeah?" the quiver in your tone perfect, and Sukuna fought the urge to moan at the entire situation, wondering how someone as bad as him could have such a perfect moment unfolding like this.
"My prognosis is that you have pretty pussy syndrome," Sukuna couldn't even stop himself now, having gone mad as soon as he could smell your arousal, spit pooling on his tongue as his fingers twitched on your thighs. He wanted to touch you everywhere. He wanted to have everything. He leaned closer, his breath beginning to fan over your folds, using two fingers to spread you even further, really expose every inch of you to him. He had dreamed of it for so long, Sukuna couldn't help but linger here, just a moment.
"I d-don't think you're supposed to talk to me like t-that," you wriggled beneath him despite your words, probably beginning to realize this may have been a bad idea, but it was too late for you. You'd have to scream, and to be frank, Sukuna would shut you up before anyone could intervene. He was too close to what he wanted to be stopped now - not that you would. The wetness leaking out of your pulsing little entrance reassured him.
"Yeah? That was unprofessional of me, wasn't it?" Sukuna feigned agreement before he was licked a flat stripe from your perineum to your clit, making sure to linger and kiss at the hooded bud once, twice before giving an experimental suck, earning him a pitched keen that had him grinning.
"But then why are you so wet for me, doll?" the pet name dripped venomously off his tongue as two deft fingers pinched and rolled at your clit, crimson gaze peering up your body at your reaction. The look on your face was almost enough to make him cum right there; your tongue was poking out between your lips as you panted, eyes hazy and hooded, unable to tear your gaze from where Sukuna sat between your legs and continued his ministrations. You already looked fucked out, and he was just getting started.
He laved his tongue gently against your rapidly engorging clit, another whimper falling from your lips when a fingertip started to tease at your fluttering entrance. Already so sopping wet with the prettiest slick he'd ever tasted, he was so entranced by you that he was hardly listening.
"T-this isn't... This is different than what-" You sounded so cute like this, all high pitched and whining. Needy for something you couldn't ask for, not yet, not that you'd have to - Sukuna knew he'd give it to you, give it all to you, give you everything he had.
"We're doing a different kind of exam, doll. I'm not your gynecologist," Sukuna chided back with a sharp laugh, his words full of a condescending mirth as he sunk two fingers deep into your cunt, fighting his own moan at how easily your pulsing hole gave way to him. A moment longer of watching your cunt gobble up his fingers to the knuckle and Sukuna was going to finger bang you to death, truly.
The nitrile gloves were definitely the culprit, the addition of all your slick eradicating any friction. To be fair, your pussy was tight enough that when your walls fluttered around the sudden intrusion, Sukuna had a momentary worry that making you cum might break his hand. It'd be worth it though, so the thought passed him by.
He curled his fingers deeper, prodding and scissoring against the gummy slick of your walls, searching for the spot that would make you sing. He knew as soon as he did, a sharp inhale followed by a whimper leaving your mouth, and the man fought against his urge to grin at all the pretty sounds you were making just for him. Because of him.
He shushed you, easing the pressure against your G-spot, just swirling the pads of his fingers in a circular motion as he purred your name before admonishing you softly, "I really do need you to quiet down, we can't disturb the other patients in the waiting room. Can you be good?"
Your bottom lip was firmly beneath your teeth but wobbling precariously, the sight of you adorable but albeit, not very reassuring. Sighing, Sukuna slipped his fingers out of you, which left you whimpering and squirming, much to his pleasure. Standing between your legs, he regarded you with a cold scowl for a moment before reaching down both hands to shove your exam gown higher from your hips , up up up, not stopping until he'd bunched it beneath your arm pits and freed the jiggling fat of your breasts to the chill in the air. You didn't even wear a bra, whore. His characteristic smirk was back in place at the newfound sight of you.
He couldn't help but stare for a moment. He didn't think he could get away with taking a picture, and he needed to commit this to memory.
After a moment, he reached for the hem of your gown again, this time bunching a fistful together before pressing it against your lips, his smirk going crooked with arousal when you took it with a tentative bite, the pretty doe eyes gazing up at him starting to water.
"Shhh, don't worry, I'm prescribing the perfect fertility treatment for you today, it's even covered by your insurance," Sukuna shushed, the comfort and sympathy offered obviously fake as his fingers tips caught on your entrance again, unceremoniously shoving three forward. Maybe Sukuna was the one who needed the gag - he all but groaned when half his hand sunk into your pussy without resistance, your messy hole squelching loudly for him.
Your eyes immediately rolled as he began an unforgiving pace, hammering his knuckles against your thinly stretched entrance, his other hand having shoved into his pants to fist his cock for even the smallest ounce of relief. Despite your muffled whines to the contrary, your hands began to smack helplessly against his shoulders, the only defense you had to the onslaught of pleasure as you were otherwise pinned and tied to the exam table, by your own wishes. You had, quite literally in Sukuna's opinion, asked for this.
Sukuna squeezed the base of his cock when your flimsy pushing against his chest finally registered, because you weren't even really trying to get him away, because you were still moaning like a little bitch. He almost came at the thought.
His thumb found your clit with ease, the poor thing swollen and begging for attention as he swiped against it, and he had been right in his earlier observation; the added sensation had your pussy clenching down around him so hard, one of his fingers folded over another, practically crushing his knuckles from pressing into you any deeper. You were about to cum for him. That wicked smile of his began to curl across Sukuna's features as his other hand left his cock to take over at your clit, flicking back and forth in a quick motion while the hand buried in your cunt gave several practiced tilts forward.
"Pretty little doll," he groaned hoarsely, pressing in hard against the spongy tissue of your G-spot until your back arched from the table, tits wobbling in the air. Sukuna knew what you needed, grunting a commanding, "Now, cum for me now," before surging forward to bite one of your perfect nipples, the sudden change in angle and added sensation your ultimate undoing.
Like a bow pulled taut, you snapped at your peak, a surprised shout barely escaping your throat before your cunt flexed hard, before splitting itself open with a gush of clear liquid around Sukuna's eagerly awaiting palms, the hand inside you stilled to let you ride on while he continued to lazily flick your clit, prolonging your orgasm as long as he could.
You were going to feel heavenly around his cock.
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Sukuna felt his eyes roll back as he mercilessly pummeled his hips forward, unable to slow himself down, your cunt filled to the brim with his girth. His hand was grasped so firmly over your mouth, you could only helplessly cry out against his palm, laving your tongue and teeth over the skin for some amount of grounding sensation as the man ruthlessly fucked into you.
The stirrups had kept you spread wide for him, unable to wriggle away from pleasure and pain alike, and a puddle was forming on the floor as your needy cunt drooled around his abusive thickness. So perfectly fucked out, just for him. Your walls fluttering indistinctly from the spasms of your orgasms, your euphoria evident from your slick sodden pussy, your heavily lidded gaze, your labored gasps for air beneath his hand. Grinning, he pinched two fingers together and closed your nose, and your entire cunt clenched, and Sukuna barely stifled his own groan as he ricocheted into you with renewed vigor. He let go when your eyes began to roll, and it seemed that the flood of oxygen back into your brain combined with the frenzied thrust of his hips had you shattering around him once again.
"Oh my god, look at you," Sukuna choked out lowly, "you're just sucking me in, it's like-"
He was gazing down to where your bodies connected, wonder twinkling behind heavily lidded maroon eyes as he watched your cunt take him still, after already cumming twice and probably so sensitive, still. His heart hammered in his chest, the pressure at the base of his cock getting dizzying, making his mouth run as his brow furrowed, unable to take his eyes away from your drooling slit as he chased his high.
The exam room stank with sex, filled with the wet slaps of his hips and low grunts, your cum drunk mewls broken and pitchy and barely muffled by your spit-soaked gown. It was a wonder you both hadn't been caught yet, but at this point, it just seemed to be Sukuna's lucky day.
"You want me to cum in you, don't you?" Sukuna asked breathlessly, not actually caring for the answer, because this had been the point all along. The entire plan hinged on filling you to the brim with his seed.
"You want my fucking cum, you want to be bred by me and not your stupid fucking husband. You want me to fuck a baby into you, you dirty fucking whore, so shameless," as he spoke, his thrusts began to speed up, his control finally dwindling as he hammered recklessly into your perfect sopping cunt. He was unable to stop himself from reaching down to grind his palm against your clit, adoring the way your walls gripped his shaft, milking his thickness for all he was worth.
"It doesn't matter what you want, m'gonna do it anyway," he hissed, crimson eyes wide and wild and boring down at the pussy he planned to fill with his seed, absolutely deranged with his singularly focused obsession, and the sight had you shuddering around him again, your third orgasm unexpected for the both of you.
Sukuna had no chance against your spasming walls this time, his hand finding your throat and dragging you up for a ruthless, harsh first kiss. More of a mashing tongues before Sukuna cried out with a growl, dropping his head to muffle himself with a bite to your shoulder. Instinct shoved his hips forward, burying his cock as close to your womb as physically possible as he came, flooding you with warmth. His cock jumped inside of you, twitching and sensitive against your fluttering walls, both of you hissing and moaning softly as your hips continued to rock slowly, riding out the overstimulation.
Your chests were pressed skin to skin, Sukuna's head was still tucked in the space between your neck and your shoulder as you both came down from your highs, silent except for the shared panting. Sukuna was the first to speak, chuckling as he lulled his tongue against the mark he had left, kissing the already blossoming redness in a surprising act of tenderness.
"I marked you up pretty bad, doll, between that and my baby, I don't think you're getting away with any of this. What're you gonna tell your man?" Sukuna didn't know if it was pride or jealously twinging his words, but whatever it was, it tasted bitter on his tongue, despite all the blessings he'd received today.
A beat passed before you tried to sit up on your elbows, the angle of the exam table not exactly helping, once hazy eyes now trained on his, absolutely twinkling as you murmured, "Probably nothing, I guess... considering I'm not married." You wriggled beneath him, still pinned beneath his chest as you danced your hips back and forth around his softening length, making cum leak out and down your puffy slit in a proud display.
"What?" His cock hadn't even come out of you yet. You were gonna make him hard again if you kept that up.
You giggled, the sound sparkling with delight as you repeated, "I'm not married. That man isn't my husband."
"He's been here... It's part of our screening process."
"He's just some actor guy I hired. I don't even know him." You didn't even have the nerve to sound embarrassed.
"What does that mean? He gives samples-"
"I give samples on my 'husband's' behalf. Why do you think our treatments haven't worked?" your smile had grown wicked, a twin lopsided grin to the one he usually wore, pupils dilated as you admitted your sins, your pussy even giving a little spasm on his now rapidly hardening cock. You were getting off on this, you little she-devil.
"Then what's even the point in coming to a fucking fertility clinic if you're not-"
"All for this. All for you," your confession both the sweetest and most deranged thing he had ever heard of in his life, and that was saying something, considering... him.
His heart skipped a beat.
Sukuna was pretty sure he was in love with you.
You thought you had finally stunned him. You had, for a moment, like a flash bang. But Sukuna recovered quickly enough, reaching an expert hand down to drag the middle shelf out from the front of the exam table. He stepped his right foot forward before hoisting a knee to plant his left foot firmly on the stool, using the advantage of his palms already under your knees to unceremoniously shove you into deep mating press, no longer constrained by stirrups.
His fat cock could bully against your cervix easily now, and considering he never skipped leg day, his stamina in this position was nothing to be trifled with. He gave an experimental roll of his hips, sinking tip to hilt without any resistance, the movement causing you to shout hoarsely at how quickly his balls pressed against your asshole.
"Oh you fucking slut," Sukuna purred in delight, his condescension sticky sweet, "Since you want my baby so bad, we'll make extra sure it sticks this time, but you gotta be quiet and we gotta be quick." You opened wide as he grabbed a handful of his special black gloves from their box and balling them into your gleefully awaiting mouth. Leaning forward so you were caged against his chest, Sukuna rolled his cock deeply into you again, content with your muffled whine of ecstasy, before setting a brutal pace into your already cum sodden cunt.
"And call me Daddy this time."
1K notes · View notes
vanwritesfan-fiction · 5 months
Text
Common Ground
Based on this wonderful anon request
Warnings: language, angst, bad family dynamics, favoritism Trigger Warning ⚠️: Toxic Family Dynamics
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"Ok, I need your opinion", Jack held up two sweaters from their hangers, "gray or green?" You bit your bottom lip, contemplating the choices for a second. "Green. My mom's favorite color is green, she'll appreciate the gesture." Jack chuckled to himself before disappearing back into the closet. "Green it is."
You and Jack were headed to your family's house for Thanksgiving, and while he was excited to meet the people who brought the love of his life into the world, you were a nervous wreck. Your relationship with your family was complicated to say the least. You were already dressed and ready to go, had been for the last two hours from nerves, just waiting at Jack's apartment for him to get back from the studio.
Jack emerged from his closet, dressed in the green cashmere sweater you had chosen for him with a pair of jeans and matching New Balance sneakers. "Does this look alright?", he pulled at his sweater nervously. You stood, holding his hands in yours, interlacing your fingers together. "You look really good, babe." You leaned in to give him a quick peck, and when you tried to pull away, Jack pulled you tightly into his arms.
"How are you doing? We don't have to go if you don't want to. We can order some food, watch a movie, do other things", his voice trailed off suggestively. You felt your stomach flip. You loved your family more than anything, but you knew this night could go sideways, and his offer sounded very tempting. His gaze tracked your face as you avoided eye contact with him. "I'm fine, Jack. Really. Its my family. If anything you should be worried." You booped his nose with your finger, trying to deflect. "I'm serious babe, I know being with your family isn't easy."
In the very little that you had told Jack about your family, he knew that you had a difficult relationship with your parents and sister. You were the oldest, seven years older than your little sister, and it felt like you got the short end of the stick growing up. You were the child your parents learned to be a parent with, the trial and error kid, and a lot of their mistakes left you with irreparable trauma. Nothing you did was ever good enough, and your mistakes were magnified to the point where you felt like you couldn't do anything right.
You could almost forgive them for their faults, but seeing your sister get to live the life you begged for growing up, hurt more than anything. It was as if they saved all of their love and compassion for her, all of her faults were easily forgivable, her successes given the attention yours never got. They coddled her, and for better or worse, her life was proof that they could have done better, they just didn't think you were worth the effort.
Still, they were your family, the only people you had to lean on, and you weren't going to turn your back on them. The little girl in you would always need their validation and love.
"They're just hard on me because they want want the best for me. They push me because they care, Jack. I wouldn't be where I am without them." You swallowed, giving Jack a weak smile. You weren't sure if you believed your own words. It was hard to believe that the people you loved so much would say things to hurt you, but your tears night after night suggested otherwise.
"But if you wanna go, we leave immediately, okay?" You nodded, Jack pressing a kiss onto your temple.
****
"Give me the rundown again." Jack looked over at you from the driver's seat, one hand on the wheel, the other rested on your leg. You were nervously peeling at your nails, trying to take deep breaths. The closer you got your childhood home, the more anxious you felt, like your throat was closing. Jack noticed immediately, giving your thigh a couple loving squeezes to bring you back to reality. The look you gave him, tears brimming in your eyes, gave him pause.
"We're turning around." Jack mumbled out while he looked around to find a place to make a u-turn. "Jack, no, please. My parents are expecting us. Its just been a while since I've seen them, and its the first time they're meeting you, I'm just nervous." You quickly dabbed under your eyes to collect any tears. You hadn't purposely distanced yourself from your family, but lately you felt like a fantom weight was lifted off of you when you had your space.
"Baby..." Jack's words trailed off as he looked at you, his face riddled with worry, his hand cradling the back of your head. "The rundown." You picked up where he left off, smiling at him, feeling your eyes start to burn as tears threatened to fall again. You took in a shaky breath.
"You already know my parents name, David and Maria. They had their own business when I was growing up, a shipping company here in Louisville. I spent a lot of afternoons after school helping them out. Now my dad is retired and my mom works as an accountant. My sister's name is Teresa, she's a senior in high school, about to go to college at Kentucky." Jack groaned at that last sentence.
"Ugh, I don't like her already." He said in jest, referring to his loyalty to Louisville, making you chuckle. "Keep going." He rubbed your forearm affectionately, his eyes focused on the road.
"My dad is a die hard Saints fan, which I know you'll appreciate. Something that you guys can talk about." Jack nodded, taking everything in. "My mom loves old movies. She'll talk your ear off about them. My little sister is an incredibly talented singer. The voice of an angel."
Jack couldn't help but smile as he listened to you talk. Even after everything you'd been through, you had nothing but good things to say about your family. You made a conscious choice to focus on the positive, and he had no doubt you were stronger than you knew. You gave him a few more topics to have in his back pocket during dinner as you continued the drive.
****
"Welcome." Your mother greeted you at the door, her lack of enthusiasm palpable. She ignored you completely to give her attention to Jack. "Jack, welcome to our home. We're very happy to have you here. Y/N has told us almost nothing about you", she let out a humorless breath as she glanced at you, "but I'm sure we'll get acquainted during dinner." You felt a sharp pain in your side as if her dig at you had been a physical attack.
As you shed your jacket her eyes ran up and down your outfit. "Y/N, is that the best thing you could find to wear to dinner? You should see your sister's dress. We went out and picked it up last week. So cute." Jack noticed you physically shrink at her comment. "Its amazing how beautiful she can look in anything." Jack smiled at you, making you blush. He placed his hand on your lower back, drawing comforting circles with his fingers. You could see your mom's attitude shift negatively. "Where is Teresa?" You were quick to change the conversation, determined to have a good night. "She's in the dining room with your father. Dinner is almost ready."
Your mom led the two of you to the the dining room, where your dad and Teresa were placing the last dishes on the table. "Y/N!" Your little sister ran over to you, enveloping you in a big hug. "I've missed you." You mumbled in her hair, holding her tightly. "Daddy, Teresa, this is Jack." You turned to your boyfriend to introduce him to the other members of your family. "Jack, nice to meet you." Teresa quickly shook hands with him before Jack took your father's grip. "Sir."
"Lets eat. I'm sure Jack is hungry." Your mom encouraged everyone to sit down. Jack pulled your chair out for you, helping you to get settled before he took his own seat.
Everyone was quiet as they began to plate their food and eat. You caught Jack looking at you in the corner of your eye. His leg was jiggling up and down, something he did subconsciously when he was nervous. You were sure it was because he was meeting your parents for the first time, but truthfully Jack was nervous for you and how the night was going to unfold.
"So Jack, Y/N says you're in the music industry. What do you do?" Your father asked. Jack cleared his throat as he was passed a bowl of mashed potatoes. "I'm a rapper. I make rap music." He glanced at you with wide eyes, not sure what you had told them about him. "Oh, Teresa has such a wonderful voice. I always thought she should be a singer. Maybe you can give her a couple of pointers about the industry." Your mom edged Jack on, as if she was your sister's manager. "Mom. I'm sure Jack doesn't want to talk about work right now", Teresa cut in," Anyway, I'm more of a sing in the church choir kind of voice." You smiled at her, thankful for trying to turn the conversation back to you for a moment.
"Don't sell yourself so short Teresa. How did you meet Y/N, Jack? I don't know how you meet many celebrities working a dead-end office job." Your mom looked to Jack as if she had asked him the time, not insulted his girlfriend to his face. Jack's jaw flexed, and you could see the vein in his neck start to bulge. "A mutual friend, actually. One that works that same dead end job." You snapped your head toward him, pleading with your eyes for him to behave. He knew he probably wasn't going to get many opportunities to get a few jabs in before you stopped him, but it was dangling right in front of him.
"Its just a temp job anyway. I'm working to try to get back to school. Jack's actually been helping me with my applications." The spoon of stuffing hit your plate harder than you intended, making everyone jump.
The room was quiet for a minute, and you thought you were past that awkward conversation. "If you would have stayed in school a couple of years ago, you probably could have been in a much better position by now." Your dad stabbed his fork in the air, his face in a scowl. "All that money down the drain." He gritted out between clenched teeth.
You felt the lump build in your throat. You had left college a couple of years ago when you were on the verge of a mental breakdown and your grades were suffering severely. Jack knew all about your struggles, it was actually one of the things you had bonded over when you had started dating. College was never in the cards for him either, and he knew all about the pressures to succeed. He was on your side, and when you told him you wanted to go back to school, he promised to help you however he could, even offering to pay for tuition.
"Y/N tells me you're thinking about going to Kentucky, Teresa?" Jack quickly pivoted the attention away from you so you could breathe. "Yeah, I want to major in Biology. Not sure if I want to after that, but I've always loved science."
"I'm a Louisville fan, and I think I finally converted Y/N over to the Cardinals. If you give me 20 minutes, I think I could get you to switch schools." Jack and Teresa chuckled. "Y/N liking football, how did you manage to do that?", your sister asked. "Well, he had to take me to quite a few games before I was-"
"We're just so proud of Teresa and all that she's accomplished so far." Your mom cut you off mid sentence, avoiding eye contact with you. "Kentucky is such a great school."
Jack balled his fist up under the table. The way your parents treated you was so much worse than he could have imagined. He had problems with his own family, he didn't know a person who didn't, but the way they deliberately disrespected you made his skin crawl. You could feel the anger radiating off of Jack's body. It wasn't easy for him to conceal his emotions, especially rage. You grabbed his hand and gently helped him unclench his fingers.
The rest of the dinner was eerily quiet, the only sound the clink of silverware against plates. You finished your courses, opting to skip dessert, your excuse the traffic you would have to hit if you didn't leave before rush hour.
Jack helped you slip your jacket over your shoulders as the two of you got read to leave. "It was very nice to meet you, Jack." Teresa gave the two of you a hug before stepping back, clinging onto your arm. "Nice to meet you too. Don't forget, Louisville is still an option." Teresa gave him a huge grin, promising to get his contact information from you if she ever changed her mind.
"Sir, Mrs. Y/L/N. Thank you very much for dinner." Jack shook hands with your father once more. "Thank you Jack. We'd say you're welcome to come back next year, but none of Y/N's boyfriends have made it that long." You almost bowed over as you felt that stab in your stomach again. Jack could feel the heat creeping up his neck, his back tensing up.
"Its not for the reason you think." The words spilled out of Jack's mouth before he could stop them.
"I'm sorry? What do you mean?" Your mom's face contorted at Jack's words. He took a deep breath, knowing there was no going back now. You would probably hate him for it, but he couldn't stand to hear you get torn down like this.
"From the moment we've walked in the door, I haven't heard you say one nice thing about Y/N." You pulled at Jack's arm. "Jack, please, stop."
"And she is the nicest person. Incredibly kind and loving, and I always thought, man she must have the most amazing parents to have raised a daughter like her. Now I know, she's that way in spite of you." You couldn't stand to hear another word. You walked out the door, leaving Jack in the entryway. Your chest was burning with anger as you leaned against the car door.
"It was never my intention to insult you, but damn, she deserves so much better than this." Jack left the door open as he hurried after you.
"Jack!", he stopped in his tracks when Teresa called after him, turning on his heels to face her. "You're right. My sister is an amazing person. I'm sorry that you had to see that tonight. My parents- they", she stumbled over her words, "when they look at Y/N, they're reminded of all the ways they failed her, things that are too far gone now to change. Thank you for seeing her for the beautiful person that she is." She gave Jack a small hug before running back inside.
****
The car ride back to Jack's place was silent, the air stifling. Jack didn't want to be the first one to speak, afraid you would blow up at him, and he rightfully deserved it. He white knuckled the steering wheel, his looks split between the road and you, to gauge how upset you were. You were tightlipped, your gaze focused on the horizon, your grip on your seatbelt cutting into your skin.
Jack trailed behind you back into his apartment. You dropped your coat and took off your shoes at the door, heading directly to his bedroom. "Baby, let's talk. I'm sorry, I never should have said those things to your parents." You didn't answer him, instead laying on the bed, your back turned to him. You felt his weight dip into the mattress as he sat next to you, his hand resting on your hip. "I understand why you're mad at me. I just couldn't stand to hear them talk about you like that anymore." He held his breath waiting for his response.
The sob you let out startled him. "What did I do wrong?" You choked back tears, frantically trying to wipe your face to no avail. "Why do they hate me so much?" You couldn't stop crying out, tightening your hold on the pillow against your chest. Jack gently laid next to you, pulling the pillow out of your arms so he could pull you close to his chest.
You cried harder as he held you, an overflow of the frustration and sadness you'd been feeling in anticipation of the night, something you could no longer hold back. His shirt was soaked, but he didn't care. His only thought was being here for you right now. He waited until he thought you were done crying to speak again. "Talk to me baby", he nestled his nose in your hair.
"I just wish that they were proud of me. That something I did mattered to them as much as it does when my sister does it. Why don't they ever choose me? I feel like no one is ever on my side." Jack's heart broke as he listened to you. "I feel like nothing I ever do will be good enough to earn their love." Tears were starting to fall all over again.
"I know I'm not your parents, but its their loss. If they can't see how amazing you are, that's their fault, not yours. One day, they're gonna wish they had cherished you while you were around." Jack could feel your chest rise and fall against his body. "I love you. I choose you, every time. You matter to me more than anything else in the world."
You knew he was right, but your heart still felt broken beyond repair. There were just some things that only time could fix. Jack pulled you closer, your weight laying on top of him, his hand rubbing up and down your back. Your eyelids felt heavy as you listened to his heartbeat against your cheek as your head rested on your chest. You didn't even realize you had fallen asleep until Jack was trying to wake you up.
****
His hand was cold against your cheek as your eyes slowly fluttered open. "Are you up for a surprise?" He whispered as you started to become fully awake. He gave you a moment before grabbing your hand and walking you to the living room.
"Happy Thanksgiving!" You were startled by the cheers of people in the room, noticing that Urban, Clay and a bunch of your mutual friends were standing in the living room, yelling and clapping. You also noticed the impressive spread of KFC buckets on the coffee table. "You deserve a do-over Thanksgiving with your chosen family and a Kentucky delicacy." You chuckled as Jack pulled you in for a kiss, earning boos from the room. "Gross!", Urban yelled out. "Stop kissing, I need to eat!" Clay joined in, earning a hard slap on the arm from Jack. You giggled, hiding your face in embarrassment as you greeted your friends, overwhelmed by how quickly Jack was able to put this together.
Once everyone had their share of the food, Jack stood, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention.
"Alright, I just want to say, thank you to everyone in this room. I learned something tonight. You can't choose your family, but you can choose who you love and who you allow to love you back. To my beautiful girlfriend, thank you for choosing me to love you. It has been the greatest honor of my life." You blew him a kiss, a smile creeping on your face.
"Thank you to everyone who helped me put this Friendsgiving together very fast. Even though the banner could use some work." Everyone's eyes moved to the makeshift white printer paper banner taped to the wall that read "Happy Thanksgiving."
"Hey! I was working with limited materials, and as I reminded you today, I am a photographer, not an artist." Urban was quick to defend himself to laughter in the room. "It's perfect, Urban." You chimed in, winking at him.
"Happy Thanksgiving everyone. Never forget how loved and cherished you are." Jack rose his glass of water, everyone following suit. "Cheers."
Tag-List:
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@comehomeimissyou
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zapreportsblog · 9 months
Text
Unveiling the Hidden Life
➥ summary: Uramichi Omota normally keeps his life unwraps, well not this time
➥ Uramichi Omota x reader, Life Lessons With Uramichi Oniisan x reader
➥ a/n : I’m happy you all enjoy my spiderverse stories but I’m taking a new turn now. I’ve decided to go into another fandom and this is that fandom, you’ll be seeing more of Life Lessons With Uramichi Oniisan on my blog :)
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In the bustling break room of the TV studio, Uramichi Omota sat with his co-workers, listening to their animated chatter about their private lives. They were sharing stories of family outings, weekend getaways, and new friendships, while Uramichi mostly remained quiet, keeping his personal life tightly under wraps.
"So, Uramichi, what about you? Any exciting plans for the weekend?" Mitsuo asked with a playful grin.
Uramichi offered a half-hearted smile, his typical deadpan expression betraying no hint of what lay beneath. "I'll probably just stay home and catch up on sleep," he replied, attempting to deflect the attention away from himself.
But his co-workers were relentless, determined to get a glimpse into the life of their enigmatic colleague. "Come on, there must be something more exciting than that," Akiyama chimed in.
Just as Uramichi was about to provide another vague response, his phone began to vibrate insistently on the table. He glanced at the caller ID and seemed taken aback for a moment before clearing his throat and excusing himself from the group.
With a mix of curiosity and concern, his co-workers watched as he stepped away and answered the call. To their surprise, a woman's voice filled the break room, and Uramichi seemed to be engaged in a lively conversation.
"Who's that on the phone?" Mitsuo whispered to the others, trying to catch a glimpse of the mysterious woman.
"I have no idea. I've never seen him with anyone before," Akiyama replied, equally intrigued.
As the conversation continued, Uramichi's face softened into a smile, a sight his co-workers had never witnessed before. Their curiosity only grew as they heard him chuckling and asking about someone named Hiroshi.
Just then, Uramichi turned the phone's camera towards himself, revealing a young boy with a mischievous grin on the screen. "Say hi to Uncle Mitsuo and Aunt Akiyama," Uramichi said, directing the boy's attention to his co-workers.
"Hi, Uncle Mitsuo! Hi, Aunt Akiyama!" the boy named Hiroshi waved enthusiastically.
A wave of astonishment washed over the break room as the co-workers exchanged glances, trying to process the revelation. Uramichi had a son, and there was a woman in his life named (Y/n). This was a side of him they had never seen before - a man with a loving family and a genuine smile on his face.
After ending the call, Uramichi returned to the break room, and all eyes were on him. He took a deep breath and decided it was time to let his guard down, at least with his closest colleagues.
"Alright, you caught me," Uramichi admitted with a small smile. "I've been keeping my private life under wraps for various reasons, but yes, I do have a family. (Y/n) is my wife, and Hiroshi is our son."
His co-workers couldn't contain their surprise, bombarding him with questions about his family and why he had kept it a secret for so long.
"It's not that I'm ashamed of them or anything like that," Uramichi explained. "I guess I just wanted to keep my work and personal life separate. Plus, I've always been known for my dark humor and pessimistic outlook on life, and I didn't want that to affect how people saw my family."
"But you have such a loving family," Akiyama remarked. "Why wouldn't you want to share that with the world?"
Uramichi sighed, reflecting on his past struggles and experiences. "I've had my fair share of disappointments in life," he confessed. "And I guess I didn't want to burden my family with my issues or have them judged based on my reputation."
Mitsuo placed a hand on Uramichi's shoulder, offering him a supportive smile. "We're your friends, Uramichi. You can trust us. And from what we've seen, you have a beautiful family who clearly loves you."
Uramichi's eyes softened, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of acceptance and understanding from his co-workers. He realized that he didn't have to hide his happiness and love for his family, and that sharing this part of his life might even help him find a new sense of balance and joy.
From that day on, Uramichi Omota allowed himself to be more open about his personal life. He introduced his co-workers to his wife, (Y/n), and his son, Hiroshi, who occasionally visited the studio during filming breaks. The dark humor and cynicism were still a part of him, but now there was a newfound sense of warmth and contentment in his heart, knowing that he had a loving family to come home to every day. And his co-workers, who had once seen him as a lonely and disillusioned man, now admired him for his strength, resilience, and the love he had found in the midst of life's trials and tribulations.
•••
The studio was abuzz with activity as the crew prepared for another episode of "Together with Mama." Uramichi Omota's co-workers were excitedly discussing the day's topic, "What do you love most in life?" Little did they know that today's show would be one they would remember for a lifetime.
As the cameras began rolling, Uramichi greeted the young audience with his usual deadpan humor, masking the anticipation building within him. Today's topic hit a little too close to home, as he grappled with the idea of sharing his most cherished love in front of the entire nation.
Just as he began to speak, a familiar voice interrupted the room. "(Y/n)" Uramichi's heart skipped a beat as he turned to see his wife, (Y/n), and their son, Hiroshi, standing by the set entrance.
(Y/n) smiled warmly, her eyes filled with love and support as she held Hiroshi's hand. "Sorry for the surprise, but Hiroshi couldn't wait to see his daddy in action," she said, stepping forward.
Uramichi's co-workers were equally surprised, and some gasped in delight as they saw the adorable boy with his bright eyes and infectious grin.
"Oh, he's just precious!" Akiyama cooed, leaning over to pinch Hiroshi's cheeks.
Hiroshi blushed and giggled, feeling the warmth and excitement of the unfamiliar environment.
"Uramichi, your son is adorable!" Mitsuo exclaimed, his eyes lingering on the heartwarming scene before him.
Uramichi smiled, a mixture of pride and tenderness shining in his eyes. He had never imagined his family would visit him at work, but seeing them here now filled his heart with overwhelming joy.
As the show continued, Uramichi's co-hosts and the crew couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in his demeanor. The usually stoic and reserved host seemed to glow with newfound warmth and affection as he interacted with his wife and son during the breaks.
When it was time to discuss the day's topic, Uramichi took a deep breath, still grappling with how much he was willing to share with the audience. His inner conflict was evident, and his co-hosts could sense the emotional struggle he was facing.
With a supportive nod from (Y/n), Uramichi decided to be candid. "Today's topic is a tough one for me," he began, his voice wavering slightly. "But I suppose the thing I love most in life is my family."
A collective "aww" resonated through the studio as the audience melted at his heartfelt declaration. Mitsuo, Akiyama, and the crew exchanged knowing glances, realizing that Uramichi's emotional journey had taken him to a place of vulnerability.
Uramichi continued, a gentle smile on his face as he looked at (Y/n) and Hiroshi. "My wife, (Y/n), and our son, Hiroshi, they are my everything. They bring light to my darkest days and give me a reason to keep going, even when life feels overwhelming."
As he spoke, Hiroshi's eyes widened, absorbing every word his father said. The young boy's heart swelled with pride and love, realizing the depth of his father's affection for him and his mother.
Just as Uramichi finished speaking, Hiroshi couldn't contain his excitement any longer. With a burst of energy, he ran towards his father, yelling, "Daddy!"
Uramichi's eyes widened in surprise, but his heart overflowed with joy as he scooped Hiroshi into his arms, hugging him tightly.
"Daddy loves you so much, Hiroshi," Uramichi whispered, his voice choked with emotion.
"I love you too, Daddy!" Hiroshi beamed, wrapping his little arms around Uramichi's neck.
The heartwarming moment was caught on camera, and the entire crew was moved by the genuine love and connection between father and son.
As the show concluded, Uramichi thanked his co-workers and the audience for allowing him to share such a personal part of his life. He felt a newfound sense of liberation, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
His co-hosts, Mitsuo, Akiyama, and the crew, embraced him, expressing their admiration and support. They were grateful for the chance to witness such a heartwarming family reunion and to see a side of Uramichi that they had never seen before.
In that unforgettable episode of "Together with Mama," Uramichi Omota's world expanded beyond the darkness that had plagued him for so long. With the love of his wife and son illuminating his path, he found strength and solace, realizing that there was more to life than his pessimistic outlook had allowed him to see. And as he held his precious family close, he knew that no matter how tough life got, their love would always be his guiding light.
198 notes · View notes
patrophthia · 10 months
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just curious | theodore nott
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
genre: angst, mutual pining (but they don’t get together boo 👎👎👎 me), theodore wears glasses (yes that’s it’s own genre), reader is called princess by everyone bc i didn’t want to use yn in this
wc: 2.2k
note: i wrote this in two hours while listening to super shy - new jeans (intended for it to be a cute fic) and ended up with this angsty little piece, it’s a wip i ended up abandoning but am putting it up for anyone who might like that sexy pining genre of not ending up tgt, also was gonna stay on my docs but got too emotionally attached to not post it (you better talk to me about this theo or i will cry)
Theodore is a friend of Draco. That's how you know him. Theodore Nott: the tall, cute, and quiet friend of Draco's who's eyes —when he smiles, like really smile, curves upwards in an adorable manner. Theodore who, whenever you were to hang out with Draco's friend group, keeps a closed off expression that is so hard to gauge and read that you gave up the second time you met the lad.
The door clicks open and you prepare yourself for what's to come next, taking in a deep breath as you try your hardest to play it cool. Theodore steps into Draco's living room, shopping bags in his hand as Pansy follows him from a few steps behind.
You try not to think too much of it, friends hold shopping bags for their friends all the time, it's only natural. Pansy smiles when she meets your eyes, her voice soft as she nags you on why she hasn't seen you in so long. "Draco ought to bring you around more, I know you're his friend before ours but there's no reason for him to keep you to himself like he does."
Draco scoffs at that, "it's not like I don't invite her, she just doesn't want to come to stuff."
That's not exactly true though. You do want to come to stuff —if anything you loved going to them, Draco's friends have always been very welcoming and accommodated to your every need; it's just that every time you were to spend time with them, it seems like you can't take your eyes off of one particular person (hint: it's not Draco himself).
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And quite honestly, you doubted whether he even knows your name. "In my defence, work has been hectic," you deflect with a small laugh, your eyes betrays you and drift to where the real reason stood. Theodore meets your eyes straight on, and offers you a nod as if he's only noticing you now and was saying his greetings. Yeah, he definitely does not know your name. "But I'm here now so let's enjoy it."
Pansy pouts but let's up when Astoria calls for your group of friends from the kitchen, Blaise right behind her with an apron wrapped around his stature. "Well?" He cocks his head. "What are we waiting for?"
Dinner went by smoothly, mostly Blaise stuffing you with his cooking and Pansy catching up with; asking every question she could possibly think of. You didn't mind if for the most part, actually quite enjoying the attention as the group went on and on. "You're shy, aren't you?"
The question is weird, and not exactly directed at you so you turn back to your plate as you take a bite of Blaise's lasagna (Draco helped cook the noodles for this, he wants you to keep this in mind). You feel something kick mid-chew, looking up to the person sitting opposing you; only to see Theodore with his full focus on Pansy.
You turn to her as well and she laughs as she repeats her words. "You're shy, aren't you?"
"Not really?" You don't think you are, not really. You're just trying your hardest not to make it obvious that you're interested in someone at this very table who does not seem to be interested in you one bit. "At least I don't think I am."
Astoria laughs kindly, finding you cute as she says: "you've just been quiet today, you're never like this with Draco and I."
Yeah well Draco and Astoria weren't plaguing your every thought every time you were within one metres of them. "Oh." you murmur. "I guess I'm a bit tired today."
"Work?" Blaise suggests and you shake your head. "What is it then?"
"Just Boy problems," you say off-handedly, quickly regretting it when their faces turn to one of interest. "But it's nothing big, I promise."
"Are you seriously going to tell us that and not elaborate?" Draco looks offended, hell, he feels offended that you weren't elaborating. "What did that dickhead do?"
Your heart warms at the fact that your friend cares about you enough to immediately hate on whoever might be causing you boy problems but are quick to dismiss the situation. "Nothing, drop it."
From the look on their faces, it looks as if they weren't going to drop it anytime soon. Pansy opens her mouth, ready to say something when Theodore clears his throat, letting you hear his voice for the first time tonight. "Why don't you tell them about who you saw at the shops today, Pans."
Her eyes light up suddenly, going off on how she ran into her scumbag of an ex boyfriend as she was shopping for a new dress. Your eyes found Theodore's, sending him a small smile as you mentally note down on how you'd have to thank him for it later.
And when he offers you a small smile in return, his dark eyes softening —yet not enough for you to see those half moons you hold oh so dear to your heart, you try to remind yourself that he is nothing but a man doing the bare minimum.
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"Stay the night," Astoria says softly, "it's late, Princess. I can't have you heading back on your own at this hour."
As much as it sounded pleasant, you can't help but feel like you might be intruding their night (even though you've spent countless night crashing at their place after a bad break up before, you guess that it's just different now that you weren't staying to cure a broken heart with a comforting shoulder —Astoria— and someone bad mouthing your ex —Draco—). "I can't," you tell them. "And trust me, I'll be fine."
Draco isn't chuffed by your answer, looking apprehensive as he thought everything over. Blaise and Pansy left for their shared apartment mere minutes ago so it wasn't like he could ensure your safety with them. But someone else was still here though, "Nott, can you take her home?"
Theodore startles from his spot by the coat rack, pausing with one arm in his coat as he looks at Draco like a deer caught in headlights. Cute. He then glances at you before hesitantly nodding.
This is bad. Oh god. Okay.
"Great," Astoria says with a smile. "Take care of our Princess, please." She then turns to look at you. "Call me when you get home safely, okay?"
At your nod, she hugs you goodbye and sends you out the door. Theodore walking slowly by your side. He's silent when he opens his car door for you and you try your best not to swoon. "Thank you."
He hums in acknowledgment as he walks over to the driver's side, Theodore does a double check to make sure you had your seatbelt on before he started the car. The ride is quiet, save from the song playing from the radio; a familiar tune you can't place a finger on.
He asks for your directions and you tell him, sneaking glances as you did so. His hair is longer than it was the last time you saw him —but to be fair, it has been months since you did; a few dark strands cover his eyes and you resist the urge to reach out and push them away. Maybe even taking out a hair clip from your purse to pin it back just so he wouldn't have to deal with it again.
It's calm and overwhelming at the same time, sitting so still and tranquil next to Theodore like this. You want to say something, you want him to say something; anything if meant you get to hear his voice again. If it meant you get a chance to memorise it and compartmentalise it in a folder that is ardently his.
"Oh thank you by the way." He looks at you for a split second before turning his focus back to the road. "For switching the topic back there."
Theodore only nods and you try not to cry. Why won't he speak? It's almost like he doesn't even want you to be interested in him.
"I really do appreciate it."
He hums this time around, a low note vibrating from his chest. It's either a nod or a hum, that's all you're ever going to get from Theodore, huh?
You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking straight at the road as you did so. Should you even attempt to make small talk? All your attempts have been futile so far so why even try. You didn't mean to huff, or at least not as loud as you did, your arms instinctively as you looked out the window absentmindedly.
This catches Theodore's attention though, prompting to finally say something. "Thinking about those boy problems again?"
You don't answer him, you don't let yourself feel the satisfaction of finally hearing him speak for the second time tonight. You don't say anything related to that topic whatsoever. "Do you have a girlfriend, Theodore?"
You can hear the hitch in his breath, see the surprise in his rapid blinks, feel the shift in the air. The car pulls to a stop at a red light, the tail lights of a car a few metres in front of you shines your faces the same shade.
He looks at you and you hope —no pray, that he doesn't notice the sparkle in your eyes as you look at him. Or maybe you do, you can't tell anymore. The only thing you can tell is that you are so incredibly into Theodore Nott, and him driving you home is not helping your case at all.
"No," he says earnestly. You don't let your eyes flicker to his lips, you don't let your eyes flicker to anything else but his eyes, trying to gauge him for something; anything, only to end up finding nothing.  "Why are you asking?"
A car honks from behind, breaking the two of you away from your trance. "Just curious."
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You thank Theodore as he pulls to a stop outside your house, he —just like you would expect from Theodore Nott, only nods at your thanks. And when you bid him goodbye with one leg out of his car.
He tells you, "Goodnight, Princess."
Princess, that's what your friends called you. That's what Draco Malfoy called you at the ripe age of ten years old where the two of you would play royalty and would later be his favourite nickname for you, then further on your other friend's choice of name for you. That's what Theodore Nott calls you because he does not know your name.
"Goodnight, Theodore." You shut his car door behind you, and take a few steps to your front door before turning over your shoulder. Looking back at him at once, finding him reaching for his glasses within his glove compartment; ones with round wired frames that settle flatteringly on his high nose bridge. He shuts his glove compartment box and you turn back to your front door. And unbeknownst to you, with your back to him, Theodore turns to look at you once, and then, twice when you finally enter your house, before finally driving off and into the night.
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Curiosity kills the cat, that’s what Theodore thinks as he unlocks his front door. Curiosity kills the cat, is what he reminds himself time and time again as he sheds off his jacket. Curiosity kills the cat, that’s what he knows from the start. But how could curiosity really kill the cat if it was already dying? 
If it had already yearned for something for long; a clenching thirst yet to be fulfilled, if it was already wailing to just be held, would curiosity really kill it then? 
It's weird. It's weird how —now that he thinks of it, he can't seem to recall you ever going on a date. Not a single one. While him on the other hand; yeah, he can't exactly count the amount of dates he’s gone on in the past month on one hand. 
It's not entirely his fault though, he’s trying to put himself out there; trying to find the one despite knowing that said one is constantly running around the back of his mind and was sitting in his passenger seat mere minutes ago. But he chooses to ignore it because one, it's wrong and there was no way you could ever reciprocate his feelings. And two, even if you were to reciprocate his feelings, he will never cross the line between platonic and romantic. 
He’d take the endless yearning over any potential heartbreak any day because the second he crosses the line, there's no turning back. And no amount of romantic feelings you might have for one another will make up for the years of friendship between him, you, and most importantly, Draco. The blond was your best friend before anything else, and he doubts you’d ever risk ruining your friendship for someone like him.
So, for now, he’d settled for the guilt he feels every time he sees you; he’ll hold back on his urges even though it’s clearer to him now, in this very night, than ever that you are as infatuated with him as he is with you. 
He’ll take off his glasses, he’ll place them by his bedside table, he’ll lay in his bed, cold and alone, he’ll try to fall asleep and not think of you, he’ll try and try to make it through tomorrow, make it through the date that Blaise had set up (yet again) for him that will inevitably be the worse hours of his life and think about what it be like had his date been you instead. 
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— from bee: yeah i wrote this theodore with jeon wonwoo in mind so what about it?? theodore is so wonwoo coded idc idc
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rhinocio · 1 year
Text
I’ve been trying to figure out how to articulate this, but I think the core of it is: Leo is very, very much an ADHD-riddled, loud, dramatic Problem Child. He’s used to making himself the center of attention and paying for it; his default is to joke around until things blow up in his face, and then panic. He’ll defer blame over and over when the stakes are low, but as soon as the consequences of his actions become dangerous, he goes, “Here, make me the scapegoat! I’m used to it! I can take it!”
Like, okay, Flushed But Never Forgotten is a good example. It’s established in that episode that Leo’s the one who convinced his brothers not to confess to having lost Piebald. He doesn’t want to deal with the short term consequences of getting in trouble with his dad – doesn't want to be the Problem again – so he finds every possible way to avoid it. Make a dummy fish. Swear his siblings to secrecy. He says repeatedly that it’ll be Mikey's fault if they’re all punished for the mistake, even though Leo’s the one who took the avoidance of confession to an extreme degree. Leo, like Donnie, is happy to throw someone else into the line of fire when it means he avoids getting into trouble… until that trouble becomes lethal. As soon as it becomes obvious that his family’s legitimately in danger, Leo demands that everything be solely his fault. Hurt me, spare them.
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Leo desperately wants acknowledgement but only knows how to attract it by being a pain in the ass. He’s got big ideas and a bigger personality, a constant desire for excitement and a constant fear of repercussions. Chances are he’s spent his whole life being a bombastic little shit and faced backlash for being too irritating, too infuriating, too much. So he leaned into it. Made it camp. Leo’s flamboyant and dramatic and that’s his BRAND, baby. He’s the comedy guy. He’s clever with words. He’s pretty enough that it offsets how annoying he is to be around. 
He’s used to people getting peeved at him, and after years of practice can pretty easily roll that off his back. When the only consequence of saying, “Yeah, that thing I did was definitely all Donnie’s fault,” is having Donnie and potentially a couple other people yell at him, Leo’s fine doing it. He hams up the interaction, makes a gag out of it, defaults to the class clown tactics of deflection and distraction. 
But when all Leo’s usual tactics fail – when he can’t deflect anymore, when the jokes fall flat, when the consequences of his actions are huge and dire and are going to result in someone getting hurt instead of just angry – then he starts scrambling. He’s exhausted his bag of tricks, and all he’s got left is, “I’m the Problem Child, and blaming me makes it better. So blame me.”
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The irony of Leo’s whole situation is that in playing up his cool guy persona to hide how much getting rejected bothers him, he’s made himself more likely to be rejected. He gets those, “Yes, punish him!” reactions from his brothers because they’re frustrated with his drama, which reinforces Leo’s need to ramp up his clownery to hide how ganged up on he feels. He’s the guy who takes things too far, who antagonises and instigates and makes small problems into huge ones, and he knows that, but I don’t think that’s created a self-hatred so much as a desperate need to prove himself. Leo doesn’t see himself as worth less than others; he actually believes he’s very worth paying attention to, and desperately wants someone to acknowledge that. As his, “Why doesn’t anybody trust me?” line in Many Unhappy Returns highlights, Leo’s trying to prove he’s capable and intelligent and helpful, but his long-established habits and self-defense mechanisms are muddying up all those earnest attempts.
So here’s the thing: I don’t think Leo keeps self-sacrifice in his back pocket like an ace, really. It’s not his go-to last ditch plan on purpose, not an unreasonably-thought-out method of proving he’s good enough. Instead, Leo’s repeat instances of offering himself up to protect people he cares about is what happens when shit gets real and all that bravado and pageantry that he keeps around himself like a second shell gets thrown off. Sometimes there’s a guilty motivation helping his choices along, but for the most part there’s just Leo, who’s been taking hits his entire life for everything that he is and does and tries to be. It's not that he doesn't love himself, it's that he loves everyone else too much to let them get hurt.
He’s been playing the sacrifice since day one, and has confidently decided that nobody else deserves to.
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devildom-moss · 6 months
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Roses for You (12)
This had all started when you noticed a link between a book on the language of flowers you had borrowed from Satan’s room and the current lessons from your Seductive Speechcraft and Magical Potions classes.
In Seductive Speechcraft, you had just reached a section on the effectiveness of spells using non-verbal communication: enchanting glances, dance, and offerings. Meanwhile, in Magical Potions, the professor had been discussing the significance of using specific quantities when concocting potions; they had spent fifteen minutes just providing examples – including adding petals from two different flowers when using them for a love spell.
You couldn’t resist discussing the use of flower language – utilizing the type, color, and quantity of the flowers – to specify the magical intent of an offering as a form of seductive speechcraft. Asmo and Solomon listened intently. The same idea popped into both of their minds, and before you knew it, everyone was looking into color and number meanings, searching for the perfect combination to convey their feelings for you and try to put you under their spell. The only rule for their little competition to charm you? Only roses are allowed.
Will you be charmed by their attempts?
Twelve Roses - Solomon
Word Count: +800
Be mine?
(Nightbringer specific era)
“You know you don’t have to walk me back to my room, right?” You informed Solomon as his shoulder brushed against yours. It wasn’t as if you didn’t want him there, but Solomon had already planned the entire date – took care of everything and catered to your every whim. He didn’t need to keep it up.
“But I want to,” Solomon grinned at you so beautifully that you felt the need to deflect.
“Hoping to get a reward for such a lovely date?” you teased.
“I’d never refuse a reward from you, but spending the day with you was all the incentive I needed.” Solomon’s smile softened into something more contemplative. “We live together now, and I still find myself wanting more of your time.”
“Aww, do you get lonely?” you teased again, hoping to lighten the mood and brighten his smile.
“Yes.” He was straightforward.
 Your face warmed and you were partly relieved to see your bedroom door. His honesty flustered you to a point of wishing to hide from his affectionate gaze. How were you expected to respond? It wasn’t as if you planned your days around avoiding him. The brothers (and to a lesser extent, Diavolo and the angels) just required so much of your effort and time. You enjoyed being with them, sure, but you had to work towards securing your pacts in this timeline – for both your sakes. Solomon understood that. So, at times, he found himself sustained on scraps of your attention, indulging whenever the opportunity arose. This was a bitter sacrifice, but the sweetness in knowing you returned home and laid your head to rest so near his own offset some of that sickening loneliness.
When you touched the doorknob, something felt off – some benign trace of magic. Did you leave a cursed book or magical item in there before you left and simply forgot about it? Maybe Thirteen was testing a trap out on you. If that was the case, you didn’t have much to worry about. Whatever it was, it wasn’t strong or evil, so you opened the door. There was something amiss – or rather, there was something unexpected waiting for you. On your bedside table was a vase of black and red roses that weren’t there when you left for your date with Solomon. You pursed your lips and took a closer look.
Please let this be a magical delivery, you hoped. The thought of someone entering your room while you were out was unsettling – no matter how pretty the flowers were. Upon closer inspection, the bouquet contained six red and six black roses for a total of twelve: a message saying, “be mine,” which only made the sudden appearance of them in your room creepier. Furthermore, black and red was a confusing combination. Red was the color of love and passion, but black was typically associated with death or mourning. Did you have a creepy yandere on your hands or something?
There was a small card tucked into the flowers with a hand-drawn heart scribbled in with a black pen on one side. You reached for it and checked the back for a message. For my adorable apprentice, you read, sighing in relief before you continued, did you really think I wouldn’t throw my hat in the ring, too? It was partially my idea, after all, and I want your affection as much as anyone else.
You shook your head with the tips of your fingers pressed to your temple. The gesture of annoyance was contradicted by your smile and a laugh. “How did you even get this in here? I locked the door when I left.”
“A magician never reveals his secret, my dear.” Solomon beamed.
“You’re a sorcerer.”
“I could be both,” he joked.
“Well, you do pull out magic as a party trick a lot.”
“You love my magical party tricks,” Solomon laughed and let himself into your room. Coming up behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. He lifted one of the red roses slightly, holding the stem between two fingers. “So, what does my adorable apprentice think?”
“I’m not sure what you mean to say with the black roses. Were you just trying to be mysterious? Or am I dying, and this is how I find out?” you half-joked, earning a gentle sigh from Solomon.
“You know how the death tarot card signifies changes and new beginnings? Black roses are the same.” You felt Solomon nuzzle into your neck before he continued. “Being back in time like this – it’s a new beginning for us, in a way. I got to start in this time, already loving you – and with you already loving me, I hope.”
“I love you,” you interrupted his uncharacteristic self-doubt. Maybe he shouldn’t have had a second glass of wine with dinner.
“Good.” Solomon left a kiss on your neck. “I want you to be mine. I want you to trust and love and rely on me. I want you to choose me when it really counts. . . Did you notice that there are six of both colors? That’s because I’m yours.”
“Solomon.” You squirmed away from his grasp just enough to turn in his arms and hold his face in your hands. “Do you want to stay the night? Maybe we can do something about that loneliness of yours.”
Lucifer (1) | Mammon (2) | Leviathan (3) | Satan (4) | Asmodeus (5) | Beelzebub (6) | Belphegor (7) | Diavolo (8) | Barbatos (9) | Luke (10) | Simeon (11) | Thirteen (13) | Raphael (14) | Mephistopheles (15)
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willowfolksong · 1 year
Text
argumentative, antithetical dream boy
(inspired by the song Hits different, by Taylor Swift)
Atsumu Miya x Reader
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Atsumu enters the Onigiri Miya restaurant with a bounce on his step and a smile on his face. A smile that he knows, will make anyone in his close proximity melt like chocolate candies in the sun. He knows, of course he knows. But just to make sure, he lowers his sunglasses, looks straight into the eyes of a girl sitting on a table to his right, and winks.
She blushes. The guy she's with fumes.
Mission accomplished.
He can tackle the main quest just fine.
"Who wears sunglasses inside?" Osamu shoots at him as soon as he sees him "Take them off, you idiot"
Not a good start. And certainly not the welcoming Atsumu was expecting, but he won't let this minor inconvenience stop him.
"Did you hear what I just said?" Osamu tries again, while he finishes wiping his hands on a towel. "Oi, Atsumu!"
His only answer is a scorching glare from his older brother as he reaches the back of the restaurant, finally coming to stand in front of the bar where you, working with your back to him, are busy rearranging the bottles.
Hopefully, you didn't heard his brother's quips either, and he can still make a nice entrance for himself.
"Hi, Atsumu. I'm busy today, so I can't talk much"
Or not.
Still without turning around, you wave your hand at him in greeting and keep moving bottles to one side to another. Atsumu leans down against the bar and taps his fingers on the recently polished wood. He thinks it's oak, but he's not really sure. You aren't either. He remembers that time he asked you and you laughed and told him you weren't a tree expert.
Laughter.
That's right. He can catch your attention by making you laugh.
"Oh come on. Can't you spare like, five minutes?" he pouts, his head coming to rest on one of his hands "Is a bottle of whiskey really better to look at than me?"
That makes you pause. And you don't quite laugh, but you're smiling when you finally turn around and face him, and that's a small victory he will take with his arms wide open.
"What kind of drink are you going to want today?"
"Ouch, straight to business, huh?"
"Well" you say, and this time you do laugh. An airy laugh that he remembers very well from that time you were underneath him in bed, and he tickled you and you...
He clears his throat and pushes that train of thought aside, because you're still talking, because he's in public, and because his jeans are very tight.
"... so yeah, it's kind of my work" you finish, and he's vaguely aware that you basically just told him that he should order something, and so he does, and watches intently as you get to work in whatever his mouth decided it was a good choice of beverage, while his brain was busy conjuring images of you in his bed.
"How's the night goin'?"
"Not so bad"
"But you just said ..."
"I'm busy because we had a new shipment today, so I have to rearrange everything around" you explain, shaking your head while you turn the blender on "But this is an onigiri restaurant. Almost no one comes for the bar" then you pause, waiting for the blender to finish before continuing "Well, except for you that is"
"I don't come for the bar, I come for you"
"Are you saying my drinks are shitty, by any chance?"
Ah, your good old friend, deflection. Atsumu knows her quite well.
You finish everything and hand him what appears to be a Margarita, and the look of surprise on his face only makes you laugh more than before, and offer him a complimentary umbrella. He wants to reach for your hand but instead he takes a sip of the cold, fruity liquid, mindful of not poking himself in the eye in front of the girl he's been trying to date for two months.
For two entire months.
"I have to go to the back now and bring another box of supplies, so I guess I'll see you later?"
"You and me, Saturday"
Honestly at this point, he has tried to ask you out so many times that he doesn't even know how to phrase the invitation anymore. And right on cue, you once again roll your eyes at him and shake your head, pieces of your hair falling messily against your neck in a way that seriously puts Atsumu to the test.
"You know the answer to that"
"Yes?"
"No" you deadpan "Atsumu, I'm not going to go out with you"
"But can you please tell me why?" he gets desperate easily, and that's also pretty common. He's been desperate since day one, imagine now that it's been two months of this sweet, sweet torture. "We had great, amazing sex" he says, and waits for your response. When you just stare at him, he feels one of his eyebrows begin to twitch "Right?"
You bite your lip and it's so ridiculously unfair that Atsumu feels that he could scream, throw his baseball cap to the ground and stomp on it, even fight that smug Kageyama if the bastard was around. It's unfair, because he should be the one doing the biting.
He's fine if you do it too, of course. He will let you do anything to him.
"Yes, the sex was great Atsumu"
"Both times"
"It should have been just one night"
"But it was two and both of them were great"
"Yes, they were"
He grunts, straightening his back and pushing back his sunglasses over the bridge of his nose, Margarita long forgotten on the table.
"Then why do you keep saying no? Why are we havin' this conversation when we could be doin' somethin' much more fun like, I don't know, makingl' some good use of the employees only area?"
You sigh, and you look mildly annoyed and kind of tired, but your pink cheeks and you lip still between your lips gives Atsumu enough confidence to try and reach for your arm over the counter.
He grasps the same damn space that you've been putting between the two of you since the last time you were in his bedroom.
"I'm not going to go out with you, Atsumu" you tell him quietly "And there's more to dating than sex, by the way"
"Look, that's not ..."
"Also" you add, quickly turning back to your usual cheery, kind of snarky self and pointing at his face "You really shouldn't be wearing sunglasses indoor"
"That's exactly what I told him before he came to bother you" Osamu's voice says from behind him, and Atsumu can't just turn around and scowl at his brother, because he's busy watching you disappear through the back door, taking with you all his hopes for the night.
...
To be fair, it's not like anyone can blame Atsumu for not knowing what to do. He has never played the role of the heartbroken, unable to move on lover before. And he has a cementery of ghosted lovers to prove his claim. What is he meant to do when the tables turn on him?
A warning would have been nice.
"But I did warn you" Kita reminds him, a couple of days after the first time you two sleep together. Atsumu's complaining about something Kiyoomi said, something that made him so mad because it actually reminded him of you (and he has this epiphany while talking with his former Capitan over the phone about how yes, he hasn't stopped thinking about you at all), and then all just goes down hill from there.
"What do you mean you warned me? No you didn't!"
"Yes, I did" Kita remains unfazed under the damn of emotions Atsumu seems to have become "I told you not to sleep with one of your brother's employees"
"That's not a fuckin' warnin'. That's a challenge!" Atsumu stands up from the sofa to frantically pace around the living room, and settles for glaring at the wall, since Kita is on the other side of the country "A warnin' would have been: Hey! Don't mess around with this girl or she's gonna trap you forever"
"That's..." Kita pauses, and Atsumu can hear him standing up as well "Actually the most romantic thing I've ever heard you say"
...
It was supposed to be just one night. You were cute and funny and he was slightly annoyed at the fact that you didn't immediately gushed about his volleyball career when you two first met, wich only served to fuel his interest on you.
It was supposed to be just one single night of fun, because you had casually bumped into each other in a bar and hey, you were even cuter when you were away from the bar and all those liquor bottles.
It was supposed to be just one night... but then it was two, and now Atsumu's sitting at the back of that same bar, completely mistified by how you dance and laugh and say something to a guy that's too close to you.
He takes an aggresive sip of his beer.
"Are you okay?" Hinata yells at him, trying to make himself heard over the music. When Atsumu doesn't even acknowledges him, the Spiker turns to Adrian for help. "Is he okay?"
Atsumu ignores the exchange, wich gets interrumpted by something Kiyoomi says but it's impossible to hear due to the music and his mask, tightly secured over his lips. But Atsumu doesn't cares. He instead slides closer to the edge of his seat, grabbing onto his beer bottle for dear life.
"Wait, you're spying her?" Hinata yells again, and Atsumu finally looks at him "That's why we're here?"
"Who are you even talkin' about?"
"You'd have to be stupid to not know. Everyone can see that you've been obsessively fixated on the same person since we arrived" Kiyoomi says, even tho Atsumu can only catch some words "Anyway, I'm leaving"
Kiyoomi stands and so does the rest of the group, Atsumu included. But in his case, to move straight to the dance floor and not to the nearest exit. He's vaguely aware of Bokuto telling him something, but he's too busy trying to avoid bumping into other people as he makes a beeline towards you.
You look less surprised than what you should.
"Hey! Are you following me?" you ask, smiling at him. The mascara on your right eye is a bit smudged and your hair is a mess but he still thinks you look so gorgeous he could cry.
Or maybe he's already crying, because you stop dancing and give him a worried look.
"Are you okay?"
"Not really, no"
"Hey love, is this guy bothering you?" the guy you were dancing with suddenly asks, and Atsumu would swell with pride at the simple fact that not only he's taller but also much more handsome, but standing up and practically running to the dance floor has only served to suddenly and painstakingly remind him that he's had twelve beers, so he only manages to feel a slight twinge of drunken happiness.
"We've talked about this, Kai" you say, and he's so grateful for the fact that you to take a step towards him, away from this Kai, that he could, once again, start weeping for real this time. He can faintly hear his brother's voice in the back of his head, telling someone else that Atsumu's actually a very big, blonde crybaby "Don't call me love, or any of that. It makes me uncomfortable"
"Yeah, Kai" Atsumu adds, thinking he's shaking his head to clear his thoughts, when in reality he's moving his entire body, and spilling the beer he dragged with him all over "Don't fuckin' call her that"
"Or what?"
There's a split of a second in wich Atsumu thinks this random guy is actually going to fight him, and he gets into what he feels is an adequate fight stance, never mind the frantic voice of Hinata coming from somewhere behind him, or the fact that his PR team tends to become an actual nightmare every time he does something that can remotely compromise his brand.
Fuck it all. It's been two months and if he has to fight a guy to defend your honor and get you to look at him (actually look at him, like you did that night where he kissed every inch of your body), then so be it.
But then the guy called Kai takes one big step towards him, then a smaller one, and then his face changes from angry to surprised and then to childish glee.
"Oh my god, dude!" he yells, making Atsumu blink out of his stupor "You're Atsumu Miya! From the MSBY Black Jackals!"
"What?" Atsumu asks, and then someone is tugging him from behind, and he sees you moving out of the corner of his eye and tries to reach you, but only manages to grab your jacket, spilling the rest of his beer on the fabric as well.
"I think I'm in love with you, you know?" he slurs, and your eyes widen in surprise. He's not sure if it's because of his confession, or because of the drink all over your jacket, so he tries to salvage the situation by letting go of your clothes and smiling a little "It's alright. I have a lot of money, I can send it to clean for you"
"Here! Sign here!" his newfound fan insists, pulling up his shirt to reveal an MSBY Jackals t-shirt "Oh man. This is amazing! I'm such a big fan! I don't go anywhere without my MSBY Black Jackals t-shirt!"
But it's not like Atsumu would have signed anything anyway. Even if he hadn't passed out at that exact same moment.
...
"You threw up on him" Hinata is explaining to him as he enters his brother's restaurant, sunglasses off this time "Twice. And then you also threw up on the taxi we put you on. The driver called us from your phone and told us. We had to pay him"
"I'll pay you all back" Atsumu says, lingering by the door. He soon has to make some space for a couple to come inside, and so he ends up standing on one side, nervously scanning the room "It's not that big of a deal anyway. This things just happen"
"Sakusa says that you're dead to him"
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever" he sees his brother coming out of the kitchen and clears his throat, debating if talking to him first, but then quickly deciding that it's better if he just stops being such a coward and goes straight to where he knows you are "I'll talk to Omi later"
"He doesn't wants to talk to you"
... Except that you're not there. The bar is empty and the blender is not even where you always put it. He leans over the counter and doesn't see any glasses, and all the bottles on the wall seem to be half empty, and there's not enough of them to give a proper service.
Osamu arrives by his side at the same time that dread starts to slowly consume him.
"She doesn't work here anymore, so you can just stop pesterin' me around here"
"What?"
"Are you deaf? I said she doesn't work here anymore"
Atsumu whips around in a flash to glare at his brother, standing by his side, and very much unimpressed by his reaction.
"Why? What happened?"
Osamu shrugs. He takes a quick look at the bar and then at the towel in his hands "She found another job. It's goin' to be hard without her, not gonna lie. She was very good. And responsable"
"She was the damn best!" Atsumu yells, and after getting a couple of surprised looks, switches to aggresive whispering "Why did you let her go?"
"What did you even wanted me to do? Tell her that she had to stay to keep dealin' with my dumb brother?"
Atsumu feels as if he's letting all the air he has in his body go with the sigh he gives after his brother's question. He's tired and hangover and worst of all, very much kind of in love with a woman he slept with two times. Two months ago.
He racks his brain for answers as his brother turns around to leave him to his missery. The easy answer to his feelings could be the sex, but it's been two months and you haven't been together again.
And somehow, that would be totally fine, if he could at least spent more time with you.
Because you're funny, and you crack the best jokes when you're busy polishing glasses that don't really need to be polished. And you're pretty, and your eyes shine in a way that does serious stuffs to the way he perceives the world.
You're also hot, of course, and he would snicker to himself if the wet smack of his brother's towel against his face wouldn't have him spluttering.
"The hell was that for?" he asks, confused, and now smelling like a wet rice ball.
"Do you want her number?"
...
He would have liked to rehears something, but his life is a chaotic mess since you're around, and he might as well start to deal with that fact. So when you (miraculously) agree to meet and actually invite him to your house, he's so excited and nervous at the same time that he starts talking as soon as you open the door, and doesn't stops even when you move to let him pass and he doesn't bulges, rooted to his place and focused on his unrehearsed apology.
"And I wasn't followin' you! I've just bein' goin' to that bar every weekend for a while now. We met there, so I've been goin' to drink and hang with the guys"
"Because we met there?" you ask, expression unreadable, and Atsumu has to use every amount of strength he has inside him to resist the urge to slam his head against the open door.
"Yes but also because it's a nice bar. I wasn't goin' there only because it's the place where we..." he tries to sigh and take some air at the same time, so he only manages to get himself in a coughing fit "Look" he speaks again, now teary eyed and with a sore throat "I'm really sorry, alright? I'll get out of your hair and just leave you alone. I just... well... you don't have to quit your job"
At that you laugh, and you start small but suddenly you're laughing out loud and Atsumu thinks that you would probably bent down holding your stomach and cackling like a mad woman if you hadn't caught sight of his horrified and confused look.
"I didn't quit Onigiri's Miya because of you, Atsumu" you say once you're calmer, but still having to wipe some wetness around your eyes "I've been saving money to open my own coffee shop for a while, and now I can finally do it. I want to be a barista, not a bartender"
Oh.
Oh well, that's nice. At least he didn't drive you out of your own job. That's a half win.
"That's... great for you"
"It's not a millionaire contract that would allow me to clean my jacket of any spilled drink" you teasingly add, wiggling your eyebrows in a way that shouldn't be considered as sexy as Atsumu actually thinks it looks "But it's a start. A small place of my own. A place where I can chase my own dream. Your brother started small as well, and look at him now"
"You know, I actually love coffee" Atsumu says, immediately forgetting his previous words "I drink coffee a lot. I could be like, your first client"
"Oh, really? I thought you were going to get out of my hair"
"Yeah... well..."
You laugh again, and the way you stand up on your tiptoes and leave a kiss on his cheek feels almost surreal.
Because it's been two months of poorly disguised and one sided longing.
Or at least that's what Atsumu thought.
"I wasn't going to date you while working for your brother, you idiot" you tell him, playfully smacking him on the chest "It's bad enough that I slept with you"
"Twice" he feels the need to add, just to say something that makes him feel like this is actually happening, and it's not just his still intoxicated brain playing tricks on him.
"Yeah, twice"
"So you were just..." he starts, has to stop to process everything right and then speak again, a mix of emotions (and beer from the night before) making him a bit light headed "Did you actually liked me back all this time and didn't said anythin'?"
"I'm a professional" you say, trying to look serious, but completely failing "And you also have kind of a reputation. I had to make sure..."
"Who told you that?"
"Osamu" you admit, and take a step back as he takes one forward, finally moving away from the door "And the magazines. Everyone knows you're a heartbreaker"
"Oh, yeah? Well..." Atsumu licks his lips, pausing for a moment to quickly locate what he thinks is the open door to your bedroom. He can carry you there no problem. Then he closes the entrance door with his left foot "I'm gonna show you exactly what I am"
The answer is yours. But you made him wait two months. Maybe this time, he will be the one holding himself back.
(He tells you the next morning)
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This work belongs to my Midnights: Sleepless stories 🕰️ collection, a series of reader insert fics based on the album Midnight, by Taylor Swift, with characters from Haikyuu, Tokyo Revengers and Blue Lock. ✨
You can still send an ask if there's any character you would like to see in any particular song ✨
Next one on the collection - are we falling like snow on the beach?
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bloody-bee-tea · 1 month
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IntiMarch 2024 Day 16 - Only on me
The prompt for this was "Come closer"
Suguru has known that Satoru is a vampire from the very beginning. He kind of has to, being a regulator and all, and in all honesty, Satoru wasn’t trying to hide it much.
At least Suguru hopes it was a deliberate choice because otherwise Satoru just sucks at keeping secrets and they really can’t have that, not when it would impact so many people if it ever came out that all the mythological beings are real.
And Suguru hadn’t been stupid about it, either. He didn’t quite monitor Satoru—he’s old enough to care for himself even if he’s still in the somewhat human and aging stage—but Suguru kept a close eye on suspicious deaths or disappearances in the area.
He’s not proud to admit it, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he realised that Satoru wasn’t going around mindlessly killing people and that there would be no reason for him to interfere or god forbid collar him.
So, all in all, things are great.
Except they are not.
Because something is happening with Satoru, something Suguru can’t put his finger on and it’s a constant worry in the back of his head.
“You okay?” he asks Satoru one day, when they are on the couch, watching a movie or something—Suguru long stopped paying attention—and Satoru’s leg continues to bounce long past the initial sugar rush has worn off.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks, not even meeting Suguru’s eyes and that more than anything is a dead give-away that something is bothering him.
“Because you’re being strange,” Suguru says and just as Satoru opens his mouth he adds: “Stranger than usual.”
“Oh, wow, thank you very much,” Satoru gives back, but he doesn’t elaborate and he doesn’t explain or offer any other kind of answer as to why he could be off like that and Suguru has had enough.
He switches the TV off.
“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Satoru demands to know and he finally turns around to glare at Suguru.
“There you are,” Suguru breathes out and drops the remote control. “Now tell me what the hell has you this nervous.”
“It’s—nothing,” Satoru tries again, even less convincing than the first time he deflected and Suguru glares at him until Satoru caves under his gaze.
“I’m handling it, promise,” Satoru whispers out, turning his head away and curling up small on the couch. “No need to get all bossy on me.”
“Then let me get all friend-y on it,” Suguru says and waits for Satoru’s confused look before he goes on. “Let me help. Like a good friend does.”
“This is not something you can help with,” Satoru whispers out and Suguru immediately knows that there is something he might be able to help with, Satoru is just too prideful to say it.
“That’s a lie and we both know it. Tell me what it is.”
“Why are you so—” Satoru cuts himself off and throws the pillow he was clutching to his chest straight into Suguru’s face.
“Why am I so what?” Suguru catches the pillow easily. “Helpful? Concerned? Such a good friend? I really don’t know.”
“Haha, very funny, never laughed so much,” Satoru grumbles under his breath and Suguru softens, leaning against Satoru and dropping his head to his shoulder.
Maybe this approach will get him better results.
“Satoru, please,” he quietly says. “You seem stressed and I don’t like seeing you like that. What’s bothering you? I really just want to help you.”
“Yeah, right,” Satoru mutters out. “And then you’re going to report to your family and then what? I’ll be collard in no time, just like my family said.”
Now that took a turn Suguru didn’t expect.
“Why the hell would I collar you? What is going on?”
Satoru stays quiet for a worryingly long time, but Suguru decides to wait him out. Sometimes, Satoru responds well to being pestered, to being prodded and annoyed until it all spills out of him in an annoyed rush, but sometimes he needs to sit and gather his thoughts and think about how to say something and Suguru learned to read those two different moods rather well.
Right now, it’s a thinking mood.
“Shoko is no longer getting blood bags,” Satoru finally whispers out and Suguru’s eyebrows fly up in surprise.
“She didn’t mention anything like that,” he gives back, because it doesn’t seem like a topic Shoko would keep quiet.
It sounds more like something she would complain about.
“Yeah, well,” Satoru shrugs awkwardly with one shoulder. “Apparently Yaga is asking why so many blood bags are disappearing and she said she couldn’t risk it anymore.”
Now that brings Suguru up short.
“Wait,” he says, straightening up and turning fully to Satoru. “Are you—is this how you feed yourself?” Suguru wants to know and it doesn’t make sense.
They leave the campus often enough that Satoru can get something to eat down in the city, it shouldn’t be a problem.
“Of course it is,” Satoru snaps out. “What do you think? At least, I used to. Now I can’t anymore and it’s making me itchy. Mind you, it’s not yet that bad that I’m going to randomly attack people,” he rushes out. “But—it’s hard. I haven’t figured out how to get a new supplier yet.”
“No, wait, back up,” Suguru says, and the urgency in his voice seems to be quite audible because Satoru finally turns around to him.
And now Suguru can see it, the signs of hunger on him. It all makes sense, except for how it definitely doesn’t.
“Why don’t you just—feed?”
“On what? Did you not listen, there are no more blood bags.”
“But—Shoko is there. I am right here. We go down into the city several times a week. You could easily find someone to feed on. How are you not feeding at all?”
Satoru reels back as if he’s been hit at those questions, before a look of pure hurt flashes over his face. It’s almost enough to make Suguru take back whatever hurtful thing he just said, but in the end the confusion wins out.
“Satoru—”
“You could have just said that you want me gone,” Satoru suddenly hisses out and Suguru is horrified to see tears in his eyes. “Why would you say these things? Is this a test? Are you going to call my Clan the minute I say yes?”
Suguru takes a deep breath. Something is going very wrong here, and it’s not going to help if they continue their talk like this.
“Satoru, let’s calm down,” he carefully says and immediately goes on when it looks as if Satoru wants to protest. “You and me both. You’re upset and I am very confused and I don’t think we’re having the same conversation at all.”
“Of course I’m upset!”
“Okay, I can see that. Tell me why,”  Suguru cajoles him but Satoru only stares at him with huge eyes.
“What do you mean why?”
“I mean just that. I don’t understand why my questions would upset you like that, so you have to explain it to me. Please.”
“What is there to understand? You know the rules,” Satoru hisses at him and Suguru struggles to keep calm.
This is not going to get them anywhere.
“Let’s assume I don’t.”
“Huh?”
“Let’s just assume for a second that I don’t know the rules. Explain them to me.”
“So you can send me away?” Satoru asks and Suguru knows he wants to sound stern and annoyed but it comes out so scared and so hurt that Suguru pulls him into a hug.
“Satoru, I would never send you away. Don’t—don’t tell this to anyone but I would cover up a murder for you. So whatever it is, I’m not allowing anyone to take you away from me.”
It’s not even a lie; Suguru never gave it much thought before today, never thought he had to, really, but if hiding a body or covering up Satoru’s trail means he gets to stay right where he is, by Suguru’s side, he’d probably do that and maybe even worse.
No one is going to separate them.
“What are the rules?” Suguru asks when Satoru stays quiet and Satoru slumps more heavily against him, clearly giving in.
“It’s not allowed to drink from humans directly,” Satoru mutters, his hands tightly tangled in Suguru’s shirt. “If someone does, they lose control and then they need to be collard by you, your line. My Clan made it very clear that they’d put me under a controlling spell before they let me be collard but—that’s not any better.”
For a moment, Suguru sees red.
Satoru must notice something because he stiffens in Suguru’s arms.
“I know my rules,” Satoru whispers, as if that makes anything better and Suguru forces himself to be calm again, even though there’s so much rage swirling in his chest.
“Who told you that?” he forces himself to ask and wonders just who he has to kill for this.
“My Clan,” Satoru gives back and Suguru tightens his arms around him.
Satoru is never ever going back there, not if Suguru has something to say about it.
“Satoru, it’s not true,” Suguru starts and hides his face in Satoru’s whispy soft hair. “That’s not true at all, those are not the rules.”
Satoru practically radiates surprise so Suguru is quick to go on.
“You’re allowed to feed on humans. It’s expected that you feed on humans, actually, because this—fuck, Satoru did you ever have anything besides blood bags?” Suguru asks and a new kind of horror settles into his bones.
“No,” Satoru admits and Suguru wants to weep.
They are basically starving Satoru that way.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Suguru mutters. “Blood bags are a last resort when you can’t find anything else. The blood in there is—dead, or so I’ve been told. It’s not the same, it’s not the same at all. It doesn’t have what you need to properly survive!”
“I’ve survived fine until now,” Satoru mumbles but Suguru shakes his head.
“You haven’t. If this powerlevel is you with blood bags, you’re at least twice as strong if you feed properly, trust me.”
“How do you know so much? You’re not a vampire.”
“But I am a regulator. We’re there to help. Teach control if a vampire is abandoned after their siring. Help abused vampires.”
Like you, he doesn’t say, because he can’t bear to say it, even though it’s exactly what’s been happening.
“Of course I would know a lot, I’m here to make sure things go well between humans and vampires.”
“Are you—can you help me?” Satoru whispers and Suguru holds him even tighter.
“Of course I can help you. You’re going to feed on me, today, but we’ll go down into the city later this week, no worries.”
“Suguru!” Satoru moves away from Suguru, his eyes huge with surprise. “I can’t feed on you! What if I lose control?”
Suguru’s instinct is to tell him that that’s not going to happen, but if Satoru has never tasted warm human blood then chances are he might.
“I’m strong enough to stop you, should that happen,” Suguru gives back, because it’s the truth. “Unlike unsuspecting humans. You can’t hurt me, I won’t let you, but you really do need to feed.”
“Promise. Promise me, Suguru, that you won’t let me hurt you,” Satoru begs him and Suguru is quick to comply.
“I promise, Satoru. I won’t let that happen.”
Satoru bites his lower lip, worrying it with his teeth and Suguru nudges him.
“What else?”
“Promise me you’re telling the truth,” Satoru says, barely audible in the room and Suguru’s heart hurts for him.
“I promise you that I am telling the truth. I promise you’re allowed to drink of people, as long as you don’t kill them. It won’t make you lose control and it won’t make you a bad person or whatever bullshit your Clan told you.”
It’s an effective way to keep a vampire under control, keep them sheltered and scared and weak, but not for much longer.
Suguru won’t allow it.
“Alright,” Satoru whispers. “What do I do?”
“First of all, come closer. It’s best to drink here,” he points to the place where neck meets shoulder. “You need to break the skin, so don’t hesitate to bite down. It won’t hurt—much—because you’ll automatically administer something that numbs the pain and stops the blood from congealing. You drink until you feel like you’ve had enough or until I tap you to pull away.”
“And you will. Tap me, if you have to.”
“Of course.”
Satoru still hesitates, but his gaze is already fixed on the point where he’ll have his teeth in just a few moments and Suguru knows that he’s not strong enough to move away now.
It’s already a wonder Satoru has gone this long with attacking anyone, and Suguru is not at all worried.
If Satoru has never attacked a person, his self-control is stronger than he gives himself credit for.
“I’m sorry,” Satoru says, right before he moves in, and the pain when he finally sinks his fangs into Suguru’s skin is blinding for a moment, before everything goes pleasantly numb.
Satoru makes a surprised noise against his skin and Suguru guesses that’s fair. It is a lot to take in, first time feeding, and he reassuringly strokes Satoru’s hair.
“That’s it, just like that,” he encourages him, feeling Satoru drink from him and Suguru didn’t even stop to think about how that would feel.
No vampire has ever fed from him, and now he’s glad that Satoru is the first. They can be each other’s firsts like that.
Satoru stops way before Suguru thought, though he doesn’t retreat completely. He takes his fangs out of Suguru’s skin, but then he moves his lips over the spot, as if he wanted to kiss the ache away.
Suguru feels hot all over.
“How was it?” he forces himself to ask after a long moment, Satoru’s lips still exploring his skin and he shudders when Satoru lets out a deep sigh.
“Good. Very good. You’re—tasty,” Satoru admits. “You taste like my favourite treat.”
“I do, huh,” Suguru weakly gives back. “So, you’d want to do it again?” he can’t help but to ask, because maybe he just needs Satoru to say yes to that.
“If I’m allowed to,” Satoru replies and climbs fully into Suguru’s lap. “If you’ll let me.”
“Always,” Suguru whispers, using his hand still in Satoru’s hair to raise his head.
Satoru makes an unhappy noise when his lips are detached from Suguru’s skin, but Suguru barely gives himself a second to notice the healthy flush to Satoru’s cheeks before he reels him in for a kiss.
“I hope I’m allowed to do that more often, too,” Satoru rasps out when they part and Suguru laughs.
“You can do that as often as you want. For the feeding thing, we’ll have to see how much blood you need and how well I take it, but as often as possible. I—” Suguru briefly bites his lip, but then decides that they already kissed, so what is there to hide. “I don’t want you to feed on anyone else,” he admits and Satoru’s eyes sparkle.
“I wouldn’t want to do that, either,” he agrees and nips at Suguru’s lips until he can’t take it anymore and kisses him again.
“Glad we’re on the same page about that,” Suguru murmurs against his lips when there’s the space to do so and Satoru takes that chance to nuzzle his cheek.
“Thank you,” Satoru says, accentuating the words with kisses.
“Always,” Suguru promises again, because he means it.
And going by the way Satoru blushes—fuelled by Suguru’s own blood—Suguru would guess he understands.
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dmc-brainrot · 8 months
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Hello! Dunno if you do headcanons or not, but I have an ask for you. How do you think Dante would behave when he's in a disagreement/fight with his s/o? I see him as a rather conflict avoiding person, tbh. If there's a problem he'll do his best to ignore it and sweep it under the rug. Which is obviously not good, neither for him, nor his partner. So it really takes something special to force him to acknowledge the situation head on, I think.
Also. Do you think he would be first one to apologize afterwards or nah? Or depending on who's wrong? Just gimme some thoughts. Or don't, up to you :)
Have a nice day!
Dante (DCM5) Headcannons (part 1):
a.n: I think the whole ‘sweeping it under the rug’ behaviour would be the most accurate for him, but here’s some of my own!(i never did headcannons before so apologies if the formatting is weird?)
After a disagreement:
Dante is the first one to leave the argument, either by saying ‘I am not arguing with you right now/about this’, or simply walking away and leaving you talking to yourself
Dante is not a good listener when you share your argument, and rather ignore it completely to avoid stressing about it
Dante doesn’t raise his voice, but I don’t think he’d make eye contact either, especially while you’re talking, always looking down or to his surroundings as a way to deflect his attention as well
After a fight (yelling, etc):
I feel Dante would let you scream alone, and this is a double edged sword because it could  be perceived as manipulative (since you’d be seen as the emotional exploding mess and him the calm and collected rational guy), but also mostly because he REALLY doesn’t want to waste his energy yelling or getting worked up
He’d be the quiet type to just let you exhaust yourself, and then maybe have the audacity to ask ‘are you done?’ afterwards
I think to make him actively participate in a fight like this, it really would depend of the subject, if it’s something he perceives as unimportant by his own standards (even if in a general sense, it could be important), he is not going to give himself trouble getting personally involved
I think also that the only way to make him ‘care’ to participate is to really hammer it into his head until he snaps (which is also not really healthy for neither side), because I feel Dante is also the type of person to think one conversation fixes the problem, and once he realizes that’s not the case and you keep bringing it up, he’s going to eventually get fed up and then participate to see how to end it for good. But again, you’d be the one who’d have to lead this, which can be mentally exhausting.
a.n: also I know all of these make him sound like a terrible person, but I think toxic behaviours don’t necessarily make someone an exclusively toxic person, and all of these passive behaviours CAN be changed through enough communication
Who’d apologise first:
This is a toughie because I think Dante would definitely apologise first but mostly to end the argument faster, and only after you properly discuss everything that he’d give a genuine apology and offer to make it up to you somehow (can be an extensive process)
When he’s wrong, I think the more severe it is the more he’s going to try to avoid seeing it as his fault, because he wants to do things his way. In this case, I think the only way to get him to apologise first would to let him get his shit wrecked lol, to really beat the pride out of him
Final Thoughts:
Overall I think Dante when it comes to arguments, fights, and etc, is a really passive guy. He may give off the impression he doesn’t care or as dismissive, but I think mostly because he doesn’t know how to solve problems without fighting or killing. Throughout the games, from what I could gather, specially in DMC5, he lacks communication and prefers to handle things his way than to actually sit down and have a talk. Talking for him is just fighting, but with his S/O I feel he’d be at such a loss on how to handle the situation properly, it’d take a lot to make him go from “seemingly uncaring” to “understanding”. The main issue would be the ‘sweep under the rug’ mentality of him letting things pile up before they explode in his face, because he’s the kind of guy to say he can just ‘fix it later’.
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ALASKA MIKE AND JESSE CONTENT. NOW!!!!!!!!!!!
Off the top of my head…
- Going off my own fic they go to Alaska together after Mike, who was injured instead of killed by Walter’s bullet, rescues Jesse from the compound after he basically stumbles on him months later while trying to track down Walt
- Mike knows it’s unwise for them to keep traveling together, much less settle down anywhere, but one night when they’re holed up in a motel and Jesse has just had a night terror and Mike has spent a good five minutes trying to convince the kid that they’re not even in New Mexico anymore and Jesse asks where they’re going and Mike says he isn’t sure yet- Jesse looks up at him, his eyes huge and lost and looking for anything concrete to anchor him to reality and asks if they could go to Alaska- well, Mike can’t think of anywhere else to go
- They live together at first because Jesse isn’t physically or emotionally in a place where he can take care of himself. The aftereffects of his night terrors can last for hours, which is confusing and terrifying, and could create situations in which he might feel he was justified in doing something drastic. Slowly, these become less frequent and for the most part less severe, he sees doctors and specialists (Mike is surprised that Jesse has the wherewithal or the knowledge to take charge of these appointments himself, and they end up discussing his Aunt Ginny and his interest in sports medicine) and he offers to move out, like he thinks Mike has just been putting up with him all this time. Mike agrees because he thinks it’s good for the kid to have his own space, but Jesse is surprised when Mike’s joke about being glad about getting some peace and quiet sounds even more doleful than he’d expected. The next time he calls Mike, Mike immediately asks him what’s wrong like a dad whose teenager just left for college
- When Jesse gets His Dog the one we all agree he has it’s because he picked it up as a stray on the side of the road while they were still living together and then he tries to hide the dog from Mike like a ten-year-old would from their parents and Mike is like. Do you think this is my first rodeo. I know you’re hiding some sort of animal from me. When did I say we could get a dog.
- Side tangent I’ve seen a lot of heated debates over the years as to what breed Jesse’s dog should be but I work with dogs so I have seniority over all of you and I’ll decide. I love huskies, I do, but Jesse has had enough crazy in his life without adding a husky to the mix. The right answer is Fat Old Lady Staffordshire Terrier, which is a Whole Other Breed, as the kids say. Every time I meet an old lady staffy it’s like meeting a spunky little grandma who goes to pride parades and hits rude people with her handbag. He needs that in his life
- Jesse started having seizures not long after his rescue, and even after it looks like he’s out of the woods they keep happening. He’s not allowed to drive, obviously, until they know the medication the doctor prescribed him works, and Mike is initially put off by him sulking about it when he’s the one who has to drive the kid everywhere after all. But Jesse is actually comfortable enough to open up to him about how it’s more about his fears around being stripped of agency and feeling trapped and they actually have like a genuine discussion about it it’s nice :)
- When Mike gets older and does eventually start having memory problems they essentially switch roles from when he first rescued Jesse from the compound… Jesse does exactly what Mike did when he isn’t understanding what’s happening in the present moment; trying to follow whatever his line of thinking is to a nonthreatening conclusion instead of trying to force a new reality on him, answering the same questions over again patiently, sometimes deflecting with something else he thinks might catch his attention or at least disrupt a distressing train of thought. Sometimes, Mike calls him Matty by mistake. If he doesn’t notice, Jesse doesn’t remark on it. Sometimes Mike will ask if he’s feeling alright, at random, like when they first got there and he was still in recovery, or will swear up and down that he’d come into the room because he heard Jesse calling for his help.
- Jesse’s kid gets them matching BFF bracelets from Claire’s that they have to wear at least once because if you don’t show enough gratitude for the presents kids give you it hurts their feelings :)
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xreader-obsessions · 2 years
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Through the Galaxy
Cal Kestis x Reader
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Summary: You and Cal are kidnapped by the Haxion Brood Bounty Hunters. After fighting your way out, the encounter makes you realize how much you really care about eachother on more than just a friendship level. Fluff
You first encountered the Mantis crew on Kashyyyk, where you helped fight for the freedom of the Wookiees. You remembered watching the AT-AT in awe as it broke through enemy barricades and leveled their defenses in your favor. You admired the bravery of the pilot and were shocked to find it to not only be someone your age, but a Jedi.
You thought they were all gone, but there one stood just feet away from you. There was something incredibly inspiring knowing the Jedi and the hope they represented was still around and you wanted to be part of that message. Not only did you feel the need to help their cause, you also wanted to help them in return.
Since then they have accepted you into the crew and you have gotten along with everyone on board. Even Greeze, who you were not sure you could ever sway, had accepted you into the team. They were the reason you were allowed on board and were now pacing around the Mantis. 
"Ugh! I need to stretch my legs or something." You complained to Greeze as you impatiently waited for the young Jedi to return to the ship.
You blamed your impatience on feeling cooped up on the ship, but you were really just worried about Cal. Sure he was a skilled fighter and a Jedi, but that did not mean he could do everything on his own.
"Then go for a walk. This is Zeffo not Dathomir." He replied mindlessly as he focused on fixing his ship. If it was not for him being distracted and in need of some peace and quiet, you don't think he would encourage wandering off. Still you took up his offer before he could take it back and took your first steps on the new planet. 
It was a beautiful place to you and, compared to the dark shadowlands of Kashyyyk, it was very safe. There was only a handful of threatening creatures around and the foliage did not seem to come to life to try and kill you. 
Your tour of the land lasted about fifteen minutes until you felt unsettled once again and had your thoughts turn back to Cal. Since you knew where he was heading, you went after him and used the shortcuts he opened to easily catch up. Eventually you made it deep inside the underground caves where you found Cal fighting a bounty hunter.
All Cal could do was deflect the hunter's blaster rounds since they came at him too quickly for him to use a force attack. The bounty hunter's jet-pack also kept him just out of range for the Jedi's light saber. 
Immediately you took your blaster out and struck the armored man in his abdomen. Since he did not expect the attack, he could not block it and stumbled to the ground. Cal took the opening and got in a few heavy hits, before the hunter returned to the air. 
"How'd you get over there?" Cal questioned, as he glanced in your direction to see who was suddenly assisting him. 
"Carefully," you immediately joked back as the hunter activated an impenetrable glowing shield that trapped the two of you in a small space with him. 
"You really shouldn't be here," Cal stated in concern as his guard fell from a particularly heavy attack from the enemy.
"You were gone too long," you replied as you jumped in to his defense. You fired more consecutively to cover Cal and gave him time to gather himself. This action only earned you the bounty hunter's attention and unlike Cal, you could not save yourself from blaster rounds. 
You braced yourself for what you knew was coming next but instead the hunter was thrown into the wall by Cal's force push. The Jedi rushed in while his enemy was still stunned, only to have the tables be turned on him. 
In a series of quick attacks you could not comprehend, Cal was left defenseless. The bounty hunter sprung a trap and silver cables wrapped around Cal's body before they became electrified. Cal yelled before he was rendered unconscious and fell to the ground like a heavy weight with BD-1 by his side. 
Fury overwhelmed you at the sight of your new friends who were being put in danger. You were determined to protect them, even if you would probably lose. You squared off with the bounty hunter and glared at him with angry fire in your eyes. He stood across from you, and taunted you as you both stared each other down, waiting for who would make the first move. It did not take long for you to attack. 
You rushed in with heavy blows since you did not want to give him the opportunity to fire upon you from a distance, but that was a mistake. His armor prevented you from attacking him with melee or firearms, and an attempt at disarming him was met with a harsh blow to the side of your face. You gripped his weapon until your knuckles turned white and foolishly tried to wrestle it out of his hands in a desperate attempt to gain the upper hand. So, he pushed the butt of his firearm out until it crashed into the side of your face and threw you to the ground.  While you were still down, he hovered right in front of you, aimed, and stuck you with the same odd wires that trapped Cal. Electricity ran through your whole body, filling it with intense searing pain. A raw scream was ripped from your throat and you were immediately sent into darkness. 
When you woke your limbs felt tingly and numb as if they fell asleep. Despite the pain and inconvenience, you pulled yourself up on wobbly legs and studied your surroundings. Of course, you were now in a jail cell, but panic only set in when you noticed Cal was missing. Immediately you began calling out for him. 
"Cal! Cal!" You shouted desperately into the empty halls. 
"I am ok," he replied groggily, seeming to have just woken up as you have. Relief swept over you. "But BD-1 is missing and so is my saber,"  
"Don't worry. We'll get them back, we just have to find a way out of here first!" you reassured and immediately began looking for an exit. Your ran your hands along the cool metal walls, feeling for any breaks in it. Soon you found a crevice where a panel was. 
"There's a panel on the left wall! Think you can open it?" 
"I'll try!" Cal responded as you began kicking the metal panel loose. You focused all of your energy on one area of the panel till it popped up slightly. On the other side of the wall you heard the tearing and clattering of metal, telling you Cal had already successfully opened the panel and discarded its cover. 
"It's a port. One second!" another clatter was heard from the cell, then it clicked open, "That did it!" 
"Yeah, well. I could use some help over here." you replied, finally successfully ripping off one of the metal grates to reveal the port. 
Cal approached your cell doors and let out a small chuckle at your predicament, "Here, let me help." At an impossible to reach height on the wall, was another panel he drew your attention to. "Stand back." You listened and hugged the wall, then he tore the metal off and threw it against the opposite wall. 
The chord came down in a flourish as he presented it to you. Taking hold, you gripped the chord tight and pressed it into the lock. The bars hissed and raised open. Immediately you ran into his arms and held him in a tight hug, before realizing what you were doing. Cal froze up in surprised, but seemed to melt into the gesture right before you pulled away. A noticeable blush dusted his cheeks. 
"Sorry! I've just been so worried about you. Then you get kidnapped and--"
"Hey it's ok. Having you around makes things....easier. And not just because of the fighting." He paused, thinking  over if he wanted to say more, "After meeting Cere and Greeze, it's kind of hard being alone again. Like I am being pulled to a dark place."
You continued to walk down the hall in high alert, his statement still rattling in your brain until you could not help but bring the topic back up and hope he would not mind. 
"How does that feel? The dark side?" 
"Heavy....and confusing. Like is clouds my mind. But with you here it makes it easier, so thanks for that." 
"I am literally just standing next to you Cal. There's really nothing to thank me for." He stopped in his tracks and turned to you. 
"No really. Having you around has really brightened up the ship and I don't know what I'd do if you weren't around." Looking up you noticed that you both stopped at the edge of a large drop with no way across, "Save this talk for another time?" he questioned looking forward. You just nodded in response. 
"I'll find a way for you to get across." He stated and ran across a vertical wall that was on your right then slipped through a door on the left wall. You felt your stomach sink as you were briefly left in what now felt to be a quiet and imposing room. You wondered how Cal handled these situations so easily. At least when you were fighting on Kashyyyk you were never alone. 
A rustling was heard from your left and Cal broke the weakened bars of a cell that held three dead Sploxs. You ignored the meaning of their death as best as you could and tried not to jump to any ridiculous conclusions that were already forming in your head. Instead you followed behind Cal, who seemed to have great intuition on how to escape wherever you were. 
The next obstacle that crossed your paths was a large gap you had to clear. Cal jumped straight across with little evidence of impact since he firmly landed on two feet. You took a running jump, your arms automatically waving in the air until your landed perfectly in a crouched position. Cal remained at your side until he knew you safely crossed. 
Straight ahead was a room with an elevator that needed power....and a droid to power it. The realization rested heavy on the two of you and you felt worried about the poor droid. After fiddling with the multiple ways you could plug in the chords, you finally found the right pattern that allowed you to unlock a blast door on your right. You ran through them, still uneasy and questioning about the lack of resistance. You were in a full out jail break at the moment, shouldn't there be guards chasing you?
Down the long hall was a chute that disposed the dead bodies of different creatures by dropping them into a bottomless pit.  You grimaced at the sight and tried to find a way across the gaping hole since once again, the only way across was a vertical wall. Cal ran across the wall and landed on the other side of another cell. 
"BD? BD-1! Is that you? We found you! Are you ok!" Genuine concern and relief dripped off of the young Jedi's words as he found his partner safe and sound. 
"You found BD!" You shouted excitedly. 
"Yeah! He's ok! We gotta get him out!" 
You looked over the room for anything that hinted at a way to open the cell doors and everything clicked when you spotted the ledge above Cal and BD-1. 
"Pass me the cable!" you announced. Cal did so without question as you pulled the long chord against your body. 
"There's a ledge up there and I think I see a port!" you announced. 
"How will we get up there?"
"Like this!" You clung to the chord and took a running jump off of the ledge. You laughed and a bright smile Cal enjoyed seeing graced your face as you briefly sailed through the air. The wind blew back your hair and the exhilarating activity thrilled you. 
"Just like that huh?" The red head questioned with a smile of his own as you landed beside him. You nodded, still feeling oddly buzzed from the jump. He took the wire from you, jumped as you did and waited till he had enough momentum to properly dismount. Once he was on the ledge, he used the port and lowered the door. You ran in while Cal dropped from the celeing and bee lined towards the little droid that beeped and trilled excitedly. 
"Hey! We're happy to see you too!" He greeted, as he looked the droid over for any harm until he spotted the restraining bolt. "Let's get that restraining bolt off of you. Those jerks." Cal was gentle and careful with his actions. He picked up a cutting tool and broke the seal that melded the bolt onto the small droid. You stood back and smiled as you enjoyed  the soft interaction he was having with his friend. 
Once he was free BD-1 scurried to your side and ran circles around you like and excited puppy. You laughed in response, before crouching down to see him. "Yeah. I am happy to see you too buddy. No way we were gonna let something happen to you." He trilled back in excitement and returned to his rightful place on Cal's shoulder. 
"Poor droids. Let's get out of here before the same thing happens to us." Cal commented as he looked over the room that was covered in metal scraps of other droids. You tried not to think too deeply on how terrifying it must have been for BD-1 to share a room with them.  
You returned to the elevator room, re-arranged the cables once again and were dropped off in a tunnel that lead outside. Loud music filled the air and Cal smirked as he knew the song. 
"Hey, I recognize this band." He casually stated. 
"Really? Sounds cool, you should show me some of their songs." 
"Sure. Once we're back on the Mantis."
Once you reached the end of the hall you realized you were in an arena. Then a large hologram of who you assume is the leader of wherever you were appeared. "Ugh, finally, they arrive! We had action on how long it would take for you two to get here."
"And who are you?" Cal questioned aggressively while taking a step forward. 
"Who am I? I am Scor Tormo baby. I'm the boss of this operation. You have Greezy Four-Arms to thank for bringing us together,"
"I will. As soon as we get out of here," he confidently joked. 
"You might get out of here Jedi, but you really think your little girlfriend will."
Cal turned to you with a proud smile. "Yeah, she'll be fine."
"Eghh." Tormo grimaced at the unexpected kind compliment that almost had you blushing, "We have a special challenger for you tonight. An enforcer from a bygone era. A Jedi! Let's see what he's got. Oh! Somebody get baby his toy."
Seemingly from the sky, Cal's lightsaber and your blaster fell. You quickly snatched it from the air and formed up with the red head. With your back against his, you both stood in a defensive position and readied for a fight. The side gates opened and Flame Beetles flooded in. 
Thanks to your time on Kashyyyk you knew how to easily dispose of the creatures. With a steady hand and a skilled shot, you hit every enemy straight on. You even killed your group off thirty seconds faster than the Jedi who had to use a more hands on approach. Then a Oggdo and more Flame Beetles were released. 
"I'll cover you," You quickly stated. Cal nodded, appreciating the help, and rushed towards the larger enemy. He went for the large toad's tongue first and cut it off to leave is practically defenseless. You continued to shoot down flame beetles that got to close to your partner and made sure they died in a way that allowed them to explode and hurt the Oggdo. Once it was dead, Cal turned to you with a goofy, proud smile and you returned it. It had been so long since you fought together, you had forgotten what a great team you naturally made. 
"You get the hang of it quick," Scor Tormo announced as what almost seemed to be a compliment. 
"Maybe you should come down here and face me yourself," Cal fought back in his usual way. 
"I'm too busy counting my credits." Two pods rose from the ground a multiple types of enemies spilled out of it. Scazz, Splox, Bane Back Spiders and Bog Rat's to name a few. They rushed towards you in a merciless wave and you ran to put distance between each enemy. 
Cal focused on the Splox and Bane Back Spiders since their armor prevented your weapon from doing any damage. You took on the Scazz and Bog Rats that tended to burrow into the ground and pop up to attack you. The Bog Rat's were easy to take out since all you had to do was be patient and wait for them jump out of their burrow. Once they did, you placed a well aimed shot to their chest and killed them. The Scazz were trickier to you. They easily dodged your blaster rounds due to their quick movements and were hard to kill before they closed in on you. Throughout the hardship of fighting, Cal still managed to keep up a conversation with you. 
"How many songs do you know by that band?" You questioned, as you fired upon the weasley Scazz. 
"Most of them. I have their songs on the ship. I'll show you some of them," he replied, rolling out of the way of the spider's web attack. 
"How about tomorrow. I am sure we can find some time." 
"Yeah, tomorrow,"
Two Scazz flanked you at once cutting off your conversation and forcing you to focus on one at a time. The first one that rushed you gained your attention, but as you fired it deftly jumped to the side and your rounds ended up doing nothing more than charing the ground. Finally, when it was about to bite you, you were able to quickly hit it three times since its close proximity made it an easy target. But you failed to stop the second attacker. The rat's teeth attempted to clamp down on your hand, but luckily just bit down on your weapon instead and you were not strong enough to rip it from it's iron jaws. 
"Cal!" You called out to your partner, who immediately rushed over and split the rat in two with his light saber. The smell of chard flesh reached your nose, but you ignored it as relief from not getting seriously injured enveloped you. "Thanks." You mumbled, out of breath. For a moment you let your guard down, only to go rigid again as the side gates opened one last time. Again, the two of you stood back to back as you faced down your final opponents. A Jotaz and a giant Bane Back Spider. 
You separated the two beasts. Thankfully, the Jotaz was large and slow. A perfect target. You relentlessly fired upon the creatures and rolled out of the way of his heavy attack when it got too close. Its swinging arms came at you in a flurry of motion, but instinct and adrenaline took over, allowing you to smoothly avoid its attacks. Once you got behind it, you were able to deal real damage and it succumbed to its wounds. As you turned, you saw Cal was in trouble with his enemy that in your opinion was a bit trickier than yours. 
It was quick on its feet, had the ability to incapacitate thanks to its webbing and could do ranged attacks with acid. Still, seeing the Jedi being pinned down by the great spider, its teeth nashing at his face, was a jolt to your system. You had to hurt the spider enough to get it off of Cal and your weapon would not cut it. So, you unsheathed a knife you kept on your hip and jumped onto the spider's back.
You dug the knife into its soft flesh and it immediately reared onto its back legs. You gripped harder onto the hilt of your weapon in an attempt to hang on. Cal, now released, reactivated his lightsaber and thrusted it through the spider's now exposed thorax in a way that did not harm you. It fell to the ground in a giant heap and Cal helped you get away from it. 
 "I believe you know our next challenger." Tormo announced, which annoyed you. You were tired from fighting so many waves of enemies, how could there possibly be more? "The Haxion brood is gunning for ya!"
A large droid jumped down into the corner of the arena. Tired and out of breath, you stood back to fire upon it from afar while Cal rushed in as he usually did. He deflected every round that came his way back at the droid thanks to his double-bladed saber, and effortlessly rolled under its more physical attacks. You envied the level of skill Cal fought with. In the end you successfully decommissioned the droid and BD-1 gave both of you a healing stim to sooth your wounds. 
"What do you mean incoming? It's the Mantis! Blast it!" Barreling towards you was the Mantis. A ship that never seemed too large to you until it was destroying half of an arena. The entrance ramp lowered and Cal ushered you on with a wave of his hand. 
"There's no escape! I'll chase you across the galaxy if I have to!" Tormo yelled as you ran up the ramp and made it into the Mantis. Knowing Cal had to have an important private conversation with Cere, you left them to it and went to find a place to rest.
You sat on the edge of a a rooftop at the abandoned village and let your legs dangle off of it. You admired the sky as the sun set in a beautiful display and enjoyed the quiet calmness that settled over the land. There seemed to be nothing quite as calming as a quiet sunset. 
You sensed someone standing behind you and knew Cal would be the only person who was too awkward to interrupt your moment. 
"Hey there mister Jedi," he shuffled behind you and was caught off guard by you knowing he was there. He was trying to be so careful to not interrupt you. And there was something about seeing you in such a calm and relaxed and open state that made him want to stop and stare. 
"Yeah, uh. Greeze wants you back inside for dinner." In response, you just padded the spot next to you. 
"Come on. Have you ever just stopped to enjoy the place you're at?" Your question made Cal stop and think. Since he started his whole adventure he's never had time to sit and rest. No one on board encouraged it. But now that you were on board, maybe you could force him to stop and take a breath once in a while. 
"I'll take that as a no," you joked back at his lack of a response. 
You placed your hand on the ground, only to have your fingertips brush against Cal's. It was a calming sensation and you were surprised when he moved his hand closer to yours so the sides of your hands were also touching. It was a small gesture, but you were aware on how long he had been on his own, so touching was something he was still getting use to. Though he was making great progress with you. 
You sat criss cross on the ground and patted your lap, Cal took the hint and rested his head on it. Your hand immediately went to his hair so you could calmly comb your fingers through it to sooth him and he seemed to appreciate the contact. It soothed him as he let out a deep breath and closed his eyes in response. Maybe this was the forced relaxation he always needed.
Above you stars started to light up the night sky in brilliant pin pricks of light and waves of color. "Remember the talk we said we would save. Back when we were dealing with the Haxion Brood?" Cal suddenly questioned. His voice distant and mumbly. 
"Yeah, we were talking about the dark side and--" you began to run your words together in haste, but the young man cut you off. 
"You. I was talking about you." His hand reached out to meet yours and held it still. You swallowed hard as he sat up to sit across from you, legs crossed just like yours. "Do you remember?"
"Yeah, of course I do. It was flattering." You replied, trying not too look too deeply into his past compliment. He was a humble person, who gave credit and compliments to everyone on the team. 
"I just appreciate having you to open up to. About my past and my good and bad thoughts. You don't worry me with whether I am leaning to the dark side or not. You let me have my doubtful thoughts and treat me like a person. Not just a Jedi." He let out a deep sigh and brushed his right hand through his hair in a stressed and nervous habit. "I know it's a lot I just wanted to share with you how much you mean to me and just.....that I like you." He tapered off at the end, not knowing what to do next and feeling deep regret for taking the risk of admitting his feelings in the moment.
Maybe he should of planned it out. Taken you to a nice place in the Kashyyyk Shadowlands or even Zeffo or the Kyber Caves. The anxious thoughts left him when you replied. 
"I like you too Cal," you admitted and finally getting those words out was a weight off of your chest. 
He stood for a moment, staring at your lips in hesitation despite your consent. Then he leaned in and pressed his soft lips against yours in a tender touch. Your body was left tingling in anticipation and a calm warmth washed over you both. The kiss was gentle and soft, yet it left you speechless. He gently pulled away, eyes fluttering open and half lidded as he stayed in his blissful moment watching you.
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gravity-barbie · 1 year
Text
The Sparrow’s reaction to their sibling being in a toxic relationship HCs
Request
Warning: Possibly implied emotional abuse (Nothing detailed)
Umbrella version (The first hcs I ever wrote btw)
Masterlist
Marcus Hargreeves
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-As number one, the leader, and kind of your boss, Marcus feels partially responsible for you and so feels obligated to step in
-Sometimes your down moods do effect your performance and he uses that as an excuse to go into leader mood and try to keep you and your partner apart through orders and lectures
-He doesn’t easily let it show but it’s all coming from care for you, it’s actually a real struggle for him to know you’re being mistreated
-He takes initiative in making a meeting with your partner and very forwardly telling them to cut their crap, with calm threats and polite intimidation
-But he has zero qualms resorting to violence and/or treating them like any other criminal if they don’t take his warning seriously
Ben Hargreeves
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-Even when he was the leader, Ben had never payed that close attention to his siblings personal lives, he doesn’t realise anything’s going on with you until he overhears some of the others talking about it, but once he’s in the loop he does take the matter seriously
-He alternates between inserting himself into the issue and badgering you with questions, and trying too hard to act like he couldn’t care less what’s going on with you
-He gets a bit frustrated by the fact that you seem to put up with someone like that (because he cares about you and he doesn’t know how to translate that in a healthy way) and will be brutally honest about it
-The next time he meets your partner he lays on the passive aggression and intimidation thick, but might wait for you to be out of earshot before he issues a direct warning, less of a ‘they better start treating you better’ warning and more of a ‘they better remove themselves from your life’ one
-He almost hopes they’ll argue back because he would find it unbelievably cathartic using his powers to back up his threats
Fei Hargreeves
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-Fei is careful, she doesn’t want to scare you off and isolate you by ranting about how much your partner sucks, so she keeps it to herself and remains your confidante, but she’s playing the long game, offering you more and more advice and help over time
-She’s good at keeping an even temper but she’s really pushed to her limits whenever she interacts with your partner
-Though she has a talent for unnerving them without overt threats, just casually telling them what she’d do to ‘someone’ if they hurt you
-You’ve got a bird watching you most the time, always ready to step in, as she feels she has a certain level of plausible deniability if your partner just so happens to be mauled by birds
-Despite all her efforts to put an end to your relationship in order to do what’s best for you, she’s still sympathetic to your heartbreak and will be there to comfort you after your break up
Alphonso Hargreeves
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-Alphonso isn’t the most perceptive or analytical person, he misses most the subtle signs, he notices you’re unhappy more but you deflect and he doesn’t think to push it
-But when he finally realises what’s going on because of something obvious your partner does he’s outraged and will try picking a fight on the spot
-He doesn’t usually act like it but he’s quite empathetic when it comes to the people he cares about and will be quite kind and gentle while talking about the subject with you
-He’s very insistent that you should break up with them, borderline desperate, and it kills him that you won’t
-He becomes very protective, and quite stubborn about it, trying to be by your side as often as possible and acting like a guard dog whenever your significant other is around
Sloane Hargreeves
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-Sloane can really empathise with you, she can only imagine how sad she’d be to fall for someone who turned out to be so crappy, her own romantic ideals just give her all the more ammunition to judge your partners massive shortcomings and wish better for you
-While she’s nice about it, she isn’t afraid to speak her mind on the matter and tell you when she thinks your partners done something out if line and recommend you take some kind of action or at least confide in her
-If you do ever need comfort she is so there for you, she’ll spend days keeping you company, letting you vent, distracting you, giving you all the kindness you’ve been missing out on, whatever you need
-In general she just tries to be around you more, as to hopefully reduce your time around them and help you see more clearly
-She won’t do it lightly because she wants to respect your choices but if your partner ever goes too far in her eyes she has no issue literally sending them flying
Jayme Hargreeves
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-Jayme does not understand how you keep ending up in these kind of relationships and why you’re not willing to end them after the first big offence, she seems almost bored on the subject but it actually infuriates her
-Not afraid to tell it like she sees it, she gives you kind of a hard time about not setting better boundaries or just plain breaking up with people but backs off whenever she seems too invested
-Even if the person you’re dating is on their best behaviour around her she’s tense and quick to aggression around them, it will not take much for her to get physical, if they give you just a little bit of attitude she’s seeing red
-She’s smart enough to handle the matter carefully if she absolutely has to though, or even do some research on how to best handle the situation, because despite how cold she’ll act she just wants what’s best for you
-She’s obviously not the best at pep talks (she’s not one for talks in general) but she tries to make it clear that you deserve better
Christopher Hargreeves
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-Christopher cares about his siblings more than he’d like to admit, and he’s pretty smart, so it doesn’t take long for him to notice somethings wrong with your relationship
-He initiates a casual but concerned talk with you soon thereafter, he’s pretty blunt about his opinion but he doesn’t push you too hard, just letting you know that he’ll be there for you if you need it
-But he doesn’t let it go either, keeping an eye (metaphorically speaking) on your partner whenever their around, his change of color giving away his hatred of them
-Him and Ben are like a tag team for insulting them, even if you can convince the two to not be avert, your partner will hear plenty of Christopher’s beeping followed by Ben snickering
-Christopher tries not to use violence as a first resort only for your sake and he does a pretty good job controlling himself, but if your partner really steps out of line, he has no problem bringing his power out and they will know your suffering by tenfold
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beardedmrbean · 11 months
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The debate over the origins of the coronavirus has largely been conducted in the West, despite the fact that the pathogen originated in the Chinese city of Wuhan.
Chinese authorities have officially maintained a vague stance, meant largely to deflect criticism. Meanwhile, scientists who may hold clues to how the pandemic began — likely sometime in late 2019 — appear to have been silenced.
That changed ever so slightly this week, when George Gao, the former head of the Chinese Center for Disease Control and Prevention, offered his thoughts on the contentious question to a BBC podcast.
“Don’t rule out anything.”
It may not seem like much, but Gao was clearly acknowledging that the coronavirus could have emerged as a result of a laboratory accident at the Wuhan Institute of Virology.
The remarks came in a new BBC podcast, “Fever: The Hunt for Covid’s Origin.”
Initially, most scientists thought the virus originated at a wildlife market in Wuhan. But gradually, opinion has shifted toward the likelihood of human error.
China has strenuously denied that such a “leak” took place, and Gao did not present any evidence to counter those denials. But he also did not make such a denial himself when presented with the chance to do so.
Lab leak proponent and former National Security Council official Jamie Metzl told Yahoo News that he could not recall another Chinese scientist making a similar concession.
“At least on the surface, he has been pretty honest and straightforward from the beginning,” Metzl said of Gao. “My personal sense is that he is trying to maintain scientific credibility while not overly upsetting the Chinese government.”
In fact, Gao may have even been encouraged by Beijing, speculates Richard Ebright, a Rutgers molecular biologist and an outspoken lab leak proponent. “Gao’s statement may have been authorized by China’s government and thus may augur a change in China’s government’s stance on the subject,” Ebright told Yahoo News.
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