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#i get to see him in every mood and in every emotion. i get to see every part.
ghost-proofbaby · 2 days
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SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)
CHAPTER EIGHT: LOML
AND I'LL STILL SEE IT, UNTIL I DIE - YOU'RE THE LOSS OF MY LIFE.
☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader
☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, consumption of alcohol, (overly poetic) smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, technically unprotected sex even after the idiots discussed protection, minors dni
☆ WC: 3.9K+
☆ A/N: extremely sorry for the shortest chapter in this series yet. also, out of all the songs referenced for the title of chapters, this one might be the most on the nose. i kid you not, i cannot explain how perfectly loml encapsulates reader/sugar's emotions during this chapter. if you'd like the extra hurt, 10/10 recommends listening as you read. :)
thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!
masterlist
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 “Can I kiss you, Sugar?” 
You’ve made your fair share of dumb decisions in your life. Plenty of moments have slipped right between your fingers due to hesitation that you’d later regret, you have a catalog of embarrassing encounters to serve you a lifetime. You’ve said yes when your answer should have been a resounding no, you’ve made promises you knew were impossible to keep, and you’ve always had an unexplainable habit of digging yourself into graves that will surely bury you alive. 
This moment is no different. 
The correct reaction is to tell him no, to push him away and end the night here. You should leave before either of you make any mistakes and ruin whatever fragile thing resides between the two of you any further. There’s a million other options you should be taking, but at the end of the day, you still nod your head. 
Not even a second later, Eddie’s lips are on yours, and it’s hard to call it a mistake when it’s the first time you’ve felt like you could properly breathe in two years. 
He tastes like bourbon, and mistakes, and regret, and a youthful type of love impossible to grasp onto. A vague memory you never get to hold, but always learn to miss. When his hands travel slowly to your hips, you’re only pressing closer, deepening the kiss with the desperation of someone starved. Someone stained. 
You were an idiot to think it wouldn’t end this way. You were in his apartment, and you were drunk. You were brimming with bad decisions. It was always going to end up this way. 
Your knees somehow end up digging into the sofa cushions on either side of his hips, your recollection of how you climbed into his lap nonexistent. Had it been his doing, his own needy hands guiding you here? Or had it been you? You, with an ache that rang throughout your entire body, soothed only by sharing each of his breaths with him when he finally pulls back from the kiss. 
“Are you sure you want thi-”
“Don’t ruin it,” you beg, silencing him as you look into those deep autumn eyes, memorizing rivets of soft auburn that never really changed. An ever changing kaleidoscope, but there were simply parts of Eddie he’d never be able to hide from you,to change, “Not yet. Please.”
You don’t know if you’ll want it come morning. You can’t estimate just how deeply the regret will burrow once it’s all said and done; you’re not in the mood to think sensibly. No hypotheticals, no curiosity for the future. 
You just want him. Right here, right now. Far beyond just sex, and far beyond casual touches. But it’s the only way you can have him, the only way he can have you, for now. 
His fingers are more skilled these days. More deft and nimble as they race up and down your sides, quickly undoing the button of your jeans and easily sneaking beneath your shirt. Two years could be two seconds with the way he still knows you and your body, knowing exactly where to apply more pressure as he plucks on every string beneath your skin that makes you sing out for him. Hums, gasps, moans – they all sort of blend together at some point, don’t they? 
“I’ve missed you,” you swear you hear him mumble against the skin of your neck when his mouth begins to wander, “I’ve missed this.” 
You convince yourself he didn’t say it just to avoid ripping yourself apart any further.  
Instead, you busy your mouth with kissing him harder, faster, more desperately. You’re all but burying yourself in him. Your hips grinding against his, your lips swallowed in his, your hands finding themselves tangled in his hair. 
You’re drunk enough that you convince yourself that this is it – this is home. 
It feels natural to let him run you down this way. It’s instinctual as he takes his shirt off and your hands roam over bare skin that whispers with the ridges of paths you’ve traced before. You know that scar on his right hip from when he got his appendix removed as a child, you know that lightened patch of skin on his left thumb from when he’d managed to burn himself with a lighter while cutting class one day with you. You know him – so much better than you’d let yourself believe these last few weeks. 
“Do you have a condom?” you pant, and you both pretend like your words are choked up from gasping to recover the air you’d offered to the kiss, and not the emotions rearing their ugly heads. 
He does. Of course he does. He’s a rockstar now – he has women throwing themselves at him constantly. Of course he’s prepared. 
It happens somewhere between him pulling the condom out of his wallet, and managing to pull his own shirt off. At some point in which you’re left in nothing but your undergarments, hips grinding down on his in sloppy circles, he lets out a low and drawn out moan. All your movements stutter, nearly halting, as that sound rings out around you. You swear, it echoes off the walls of your own head and not the eerily empty apartment. 
You break as you gasp out, “Fuck, Eddie.” 
Another dumb decision for the books. All it takes is you sighing his name for him to flip the entire script. Suddenly, you’re no longer straddling his lap, no longer biting his lip and gripping onto the back of the sofa for balance. 
Your back collides with the cushions below and he hovers over you, kissing with more intent and purpose this time. Each press of his lips is followed by the nipping of teeth, desperately trying to mark you up along your chest, completely oblivious to the way he’s already left his stain. 
You’re convinced if he presses his lips just hard enough, if he bares his teeth just sharp enough, he’ll see right through you. Your skin will become all but cellophane and he’ll see all those blooming violets and deep maroons still left behind in the shape of his mouth. He’ll see the way another has never followed these paths, not after him. 
All the failed rebounds, all the failed distractions. There’s never been another person capable of taking your mind off of Eddie Munson. No one’s kiss ever made you bleed the way he’s capable, no one’s touch could ever erase the mark of his. 
The wine still makes your head swim as your chin tilts to the roof, giving him all the room possible to paint whatever picture he’s vying for on your skin. You let him leave his physical mark; you let him leave a physical reminder of something to regret. 
“Do you know how many times I played this moment back over in my head?” his voice is a murmur that vibrates against your sternum, words not quite slurring, “Do you know how many times I swore-”
You don’t know – and you never find out what exactly he had sworn time and time again as the trill ringing of a cell phone shatters the entire atmosphere. 
One moment, Eddie’s lips are painting portraits along your chest and neck, the acceptance of making a mistake settling deep into your bones. And the next, he’s lifting up, looking wildly towards his kitchen, where you’re sure that it’s his phone buzzing erratically on the counter. 
“I-” he looks wildly between you and the distant phone, pupils blown out and lips swollen, “Fuck, I-”
All the air leaves your lungs.
There will be no mistakes tonight. 
“Go answer it,” you whisper, deflating as you accept the interruption. The moment’s over, fading in between the lipstick marks on your wine glass and the glow of the lamps scattered throughout his living room, “It’s fine.” 
It’s not fine. It’s written plainly across his face that this is the furthest thing from fine at this moment. But duty calls; his phone is ringing, your mind is buzzing, and the moment is simply gone. 
It has to be fine. You have to be fine with it. 
“I’ll be right back,” he swears as he lifts himself up off the couch, but you know he won’t be. 
Your shirt is already back by the time he’s reached the counter, laptop already tucked safely back into your bag as he answers the call. 
“Hello?” he asks, eyes flitting over to you as he watches you gather your things, picking up the wine glass that had been yours the entire night in order to carry it over to the sink he leans against the counter next to. A bit of chatter comes from over the line, and Eddie’s entire face twists, “Am I busy? Yeah, yeah – as a matter of fact, I am.” 
Just as you sit the glass into the sink, you bring a hand to his bicep, letting it rest there selfishly. Feeling his bare skin one final time, drinking in the heat he radiates through your palm, giving yourself one last chance to memorize it. 
You’re not busy, you mouth to him with a sad smile. 
He’s not. Because there will be no mistakes tonight. 
You go to pull your hand away, prepared to somehow call an Uber or taxi, but he’s quick to wrap his fingers around your wrist just as your skin slides from his. It’s not forceful, but simply firm. Clinging with a desperation you can’t recognize. 
Stay, he mouths back, the person over the line clearly continuing to speak without Eddie paying them any mind.
You almost do. You falter and consider dropping your bag then and there. You nearly stay, wait out the phone call, sit pretty and patient until he returns to you just as he had promised. 
But he had left you with a promise of later once before, and he hadn’t kept his promise then. 
“Oh,” you whispered, disappointment gripping your lungs, “Oh, that’s fine! Go, they need you.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. You missed hearing that in person, that soft laughter in the shell of your ear over inside jokes and one too many glasses of wine. “Rockstar duties and all. We’ll talk more later?”
Later had never found its way back to the two of you all those years ago – why would it now? 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Eds,” you whisper, soft enough to guarantee whoever was on the other side of the phone call wouldn’t hear you. The fall of his face is almost enough to make you take back the words and swallow them back down. 
“Wait-” he’s not whispering, almost as though he’s forgotten about the call entirely. You can hear the silence over the line, probably in confusion, as you walk away, “Wait- No- I-”
You motion to the phone still pressed to his ear and cheek, trying to remind him that someone else can hear. 
He removes it and ends the call before you can protest.
“Eddie-” you start to scold, but he refuses to hear any of it. 
“No, no,” he sounds as though he might be begging. And you can’t tell if he’s begging you to not reprimand him, or if he’s begging you to not leave, “I don’t care. It was just Matt, he can wait till morning.” 
It doesn’t answer the question of what he wanted from you. 
“It’s getting late, anyways,” you’re still trying to detect your escape route, the longer you spend in the aftermath making your chest tighten more and more.
You can’t do this. 
You can’t stand in this room with him and pretend that it’s all okay. You can’t act as though the wine’s effects are slipping away from you and you can’t brush off the feeling of his lips across your chest. You have no patience left to act as though your lungs aren’t shriveling up in your chest, unable to get enough air when he’s too close all while being all too far away. 
It would have been a mistake, and you’re both better for the interruption. 
Eddie shakes his head, letting out a dry laugh, “We aren’t doing this again, Sugar. We aren’t going to just pretend that didn’t happen-”
“Why not?” you challenge him, “This… it’s better this way, Eddie. If we kept it up, we both would have regretted it, and it’d just be another mistake-”
“Who’s we?” he cuts you off. 
We. You, me, both of us. We’d both regret it, wouldn’t we? 
But you still didn’t regret kissing him. You still didn’t regret sitting in his lap and drinking him in, you still wouldn’t take back whatever moment was shared prior to the phone’s interruption. 
All your regrets are spoken in future tense. All the mistakes are somewhere ahead of you, your mind running to things that haven’t happened yet.
How do you know if you’d regret it? How do you know if he’d regret it?
Your hold on your bag begins to loosen, “I- Both of us. We’d both regret it.” 
“I wouldn’t regret it. I don’t think I could ever regret you.” 
This is the part you walk away. You sling your bag onto your shoulder, you tell him to have a goodnight, and you leave. You’ll see him tomorrow, and you’ll pretend this conversation never happened. 
Except you don’t.
Your bag falls to the ground, a muted crash that probably pisses off his downstairs neighbors. The toes of your shoes knock into the worn bag, kicking it to the side with more gentleness than you should be capable of right now. When he reaches out a hand to hold you, you take it. 
You let him get his hot palms back on your body. You let his lips find their way back to yours. 
You finally just let the mistake happen and take the chance on finding out if the regret is nothing more than shadows in the closet, make-believe once you turn the light back on. 
The couch isn’t the destination this time. You’re almost sad that you don’t get to admire any of his decor as he drags you down the hallway, but you also doubt there’s even a sliver of the ghost of the man holding onto you in any of it. He’s not on the walls, he’s not in the pictures; he’s right in front of you, kissing you heavily and desperately, letting his feet stumble right over yours as he finally reaches blindly for the knob of the door behind you. He’s in the rings pressing into the skin of your hips and he’s in the wavering cologne that bursts from his sheets as he carefully drops you back on a bed far too large for one man. 
He’s in the shadow hovering over you, he’s in the slide of his leg as he spreads your thighs to find home between them. He may not haunt this apartment, but he haunts you. Your body, your mind, your senses. 
Always have, always will. 
Alcohol isn’t clouding the moment anymore as each kiss is gentler, retracing the bruises already forming across your collar bones. He’s taking his time, enjoying himself, no longer rushing through the process of getting to know you again. The loss of your shirt and the unbuttoning of your jeans is done with shaking hands this time. Less sure, but far more determined. 
Your own hands are steady, though, as you undress him. You’re sure. This is your mistake to make, your mistake to regret. And maybe he had a point – maybe it is impossible for either of you to regret each other. For all the tears shed and all the nights spent cursing his name, it’s never once crossed your tongue that you wanted to erase him. You think if someone were to try and take him, take all that you two had shared together from you, that they’d be met with white knuckles and deathly screams. A rancid animal foaming at the mouth, refusing to let go of the one thing it had ever managed to sink its claws into. 
You’d forgotten just how well you know him. 
It was beyond superficial scars and childhood stories. You still remember the exact pulse point that makes him moan out with just a brush of your mouth against it. You can still find that spot above his hips that spasm when your hands grip them, encouraging him to grind down onto you. You know his body, you know his past, you know his mind. 
Words are no longer necessary as it finally happens. 
Prayers of each other’s name, ignorance in the way this entire moment was becoming too gentle for two fools rekindling. A practiced dance you once only ever dreamt of swaying to with him. 
You would have given him everything. You did give him everything. Your youth, your future, your aspirations, your daydreams of a glittering gem on your sacred finger and a list of baby names the two of you had argued over endlessly. All those things still belong to him, even now. Even as this new version of him hovers over you, lips trailing with purpose over your abdomen, making his way down to your core. 
You can’t tell if he’s a stranger when he places a hot kiss over the cotton of your underwear. You can’t tell if you ever spent two years away from him as his hands hold down your hips when they buck in response. 
“Eddie,” you beg, fingers lacing into his curls just as they had earlier, gripping onto him for dear life. You’re looking down at him between your thighs, refusing to blink on the off chance that he’ll simply vanish when you do, “Please.” 
“Please what, Sugar?” 
“Touch me,” you gasp out as his fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear, colossus course against soft skin, “Kiss me, fuck me- I just-” 
No further explanation is needed. Your wish is his command. 
Your panties are tossed to the hardwood floor at the edge of the bed as if they always belonged there. His mouth ravishes you as if this was just a nightly routine between the two of you. As if he didn’t have to second think what pace you might prefer, or when to add the first finger. Or the second. He plays you beautifully, crooking his fingers and nipping at sensitive skins and nerves alike, listening to the way you only seem to remember his name. Like you don’t remember the sound of a dial tone instead of declarations of adoration, like you don’t remember the excuses for him denying you all his attention. 
You wish you could just stay in this moment forever. Him, buried between your thighs. All hurt and all stains forgotten when he builds you up to the edge, when he murmurs against your clit about how pretty you look for him right now. 
Cheap wine soaking Halloween costumes. Hazy rooms, smokey with youthful desires and incense. Dancing in an apartment filled with boxes not yet unpacked. Whispers of something being real. Late night trips to the gas station and all the pride in your eyes as you heard his song played on public radio for the first time. The terrible waiting, the messy kisses of more teeth than lips. A simple necklace adorned with a simple ring, burning with more promises than either can comprehend, still gathering dust at the bottom of your jewelry box to this day. 
Just in case. Just in case he ever came back; just in case you ever returned. 
By the time he’s climbing back up your body, you have one foot in the past, cleaving yourself in two as you cling to him like water. 
“Look at you,” he whispers when his face is back above yours, lips still slick with you, “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?” 
You swear, for just a moment, his eyes are mirrors. And you can see that dazed look you wear, the face of a woman still trapped by her past. The face of someone who can’t let the dead stay buried. Someone you wouldn’t describe as beautiful, but Eddie would. 
You should have left. You should be regretting this. You only pull him closer. 
His boxers bunch at his ankles, your fingernails dig into his back. When you feel him press against you, the tip of his dick just barely tapping against your clit, your entire body tenses. This was it. This was the mistake you had taken responsibility for, this was the choice you’d decided was worth damnation. A simple slip up, a quick fall backwards, and you’ll be right back where you started two years ago. 
“You still want this?” he sighs into your ear, clearly feeling the way you’d froze up. 
Your breath catches for just a second. More memories, more images that cut straight through you. Every careless afternoon, every serene morning. Every haunted night. 
“Yeah,” your entire body relaxes, muscle by muscle, “Yeah, I still want this.” 
You mean more than just the sex. 
The press of your heels into his lower back is all the encouragement he needs to finally push into you. The stretch burns, but it’s welcome all the same. Just an aftereffect of years of emptiness, of failing to ever find something that could make you feel as whole as he does. 
The moan he lets out as he’s wrapped in your warmth sends shivers down your spine. You swear, laced in it, there lies a gasp of relief. A sigh of coming home after a long tour, the huff of an exhale just before he crosses the threshold of a front door and has you in his arms again. 
You don’t know when the tears started. 
But between his thrusts, between all his wanton groans and your own quivers of excitement, your cheeks turn wet. 
“Then I say let it burn.”
You can’t tell if it’s sweat or his own tears seeping into your skin as your bodies press together harder, your head thrown back in ecstasy. 
“I love you so goddamn much, it hurts. I can’t believe this is real.” 
You find your hands tugging on the roots of his curls even harder as you try to tether yourself back to him, but it’s no use. 
“When I get back, all I care about is you.” 
It all comes crashing down on both of you as his face is buried in the crook of your neck and your thighs squeeze around his hips – all the love that was there, all the love that was lost. All the love that still remains. 
“Something for you to always have as a reminder that I’ll come back to you. You’re it for me, sweetheart.”
He’d always warned you this would happen. That one day he’d come back to you. That he’d only ever come back for you. 
It doesn’t matter how deep of scratches you leave across his back, or how many hickies he paints your skin with. There will never be enough bloodshed between the two of you to wash away the truth. It’s not a mistake, it’s not something to regret. You wish it was; you wish it were so simple. No, this moment was one thing and one thing only – inevitable. 
They always did say that your life would flash before your eyes right before you die. 
And flash it does – a lifetime of love that was had and love that will never come back to you – as Eddie brings you both to your graves from the most cursed of little deaths.
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candycandy00 · 2 days
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Hi! I decided I'd try my luck with this. I love your writing btw, your Doll House fics are just amazing. Congratulations on 2k followers, you deserve it! Here's my request for the event:
Character: Tomura Shigaraki
AU Setting: Prison
Spice Level: NSFW or Slightly Spicy
Mood: Writers choice
Kinks: Daddy kink, size difference, virgin reader, praise kink, and if you want, non-con.
I was thinking maybe Tomura is a prisoner and Reader is a guard working at the prison. Thank you! I'm excited to see the results!
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Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Quirkless AU. Shigaraki is a prisoner, reader is a guard. Straddles the line between Dubcon and Noncon, so beware! 
Part of CandyCandy’s 2k followers event! Any feedback is adored! Dividers by @benkeibear.
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You’ve only been working as a guard at this high security prison for three weeks, and you already want to quit. 
It started out so well. The pay is good, the warden isn’t a complete jerk, you get along with your coworkers, and even the prisoners are relatively well behaved. Sure, they occasionally flirt with you or make inappropriate comments, but as the only woman guard, you’re not surprised. 
However, a week ago you were transferred to a different section of the prison, and that’s when you found out that Shigaraki Tomura, the infamous serial killer and terrorist, is being held here. 
Everyone in the country knows his name. Everyone lived in fear of him while he was on the loose, carving a path of murder and mayhem across the nation. And everyone celebrated when he was finally caught and sentenced to life in prison, but the public was never informed of which prison he would spend the rest of his days in. 
That was six years ago. You were a teenager then, but even you had watched the trial on the news, being equal parts terrified and fascinated by the thin man with long white hair and peculiar red eyes. He had remained totally silent throughout the trial, showing no emotion whatsoever. No remorse, but no pride or malice either. At one point he looked directly at the camera, and the intense look in his eyes gave you nightmares for weeks. 
So when your coworker led you to a cell with no bars, only a tiny window slot to look through, you were shocked when you looked inside and saw the notorious killer.
He was sitting on his cot, reading a book. He looked a little different, naturally after six years. His hair was longer, still that shocking white color, and he was more toned than you remembered. He probably lifted weights like the other prisoners did for recreation. He glanced up at the window slot, and his ruby eyes met yours. By reflex, you pulled away. 
For the next few days, you had to patrol this hallway. No one ever went into Shigaraki’s cell, for any reason. Food was pushed through the slot on a tray. He was taken from his cell once every night to shower. It had to be when there were no other prisoners in the shower room, because the guards needed to focus their attention on him. Two armed guards had to escort him to the shower and then escort him back. 
The guards didn’t seem that worried about him. In six years he has been completely docile and quiet. He rarely speaks and shows zero inclination for violence. Actually, he’s a model prisoner. At least that’s what the other guards told you. 
Once, you were one of the guards in charge of taking him to the shower room. You tried to avoid looking at him as he undressed in front of you and the guard standing beside you. But it was literally your job to watch him, as awkward as it was. He didn’t seem embarrassed to have a woman in the room, probably because he has a surprisingly nice body, well sculpted, with impressive proportions. 
After he finished showering, he dried off and dressed in fresh clothes, and as you stepped beside him to escort him back to his cell, he spoke to you for the first time. 
“Enjoy the show?”
You looked at him in shock, more from hearing his voice for the first time than from his words. But once those words sank in, your face flushed with heat and you frowned at him. “Murderers aren’t my type,” you shot back, and nothing more was said. 
Today, three days later, you find yourself on shower duty again. You and a friendly coworker are standing just outside the reach of the water’s spray, watching Shigaraki lather himself up, when both your radio communicators buzz with sound. 
“Riot in Cell Block D! Everyone available head to Cell Block D to assist!”
You turn toward the door to rush over and help, but your fellow guard stops you. “I’ll go. You stay and watch him!”
You glance at Shigaraki, who is taking his time rinsing off, then back to the guard. “Wouldn’t it be better for you to stay?”
He shakes his head. “Have you ever seen a riot before? It’s wild! People are throwing punches left and right, shoving, kicking… it’s dangerous! Look, Shigaraki has been perfectly behaved since he’s been here. He’s not gonna mess up his record now. Besides, you have a gun. If he tries to make trouble, just shoot him in the leg!”
With that, the other guard runs off, leaving you alone with the wet, naked serial killer. 
You place your hand on your holstered gun, just for your own peace of mind, and watch him warily. He glances over at you, and his eyes widen very slightly. He’s probably surprised to find you alone. A hint of a grin passes over his face, and he turns his body to face you, giving you a very clear view of his nakedness. 
It makes you want to avert your eyes, but you can’t. Especially not now, being the only guard in the room. He probably knows that. 
Suddenly Shigaraki groans and grabs the wall of the shower as he staggers toward you, as if he’s dizzy. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, your hand still on your gun. “Are you alright?”
“I don’t know…” he mumbles, holding his head with his free hand. “Feel like I’m… passing ou-“
He lurches forward, falling, and you rush to catch him in your arms. It’s simply human nature to try to catch a falling person, a reflex you can’t control. And as soon as you feel his hard, dripping wet body against yours, you realize your mistake. 
His hand moves swiftly to your gun, pulling it from the holster and tossing it across the room, far out of your reach. Your first instinct is to reach for your radio, to call for help, but he has one of your hands in a vice grip as he knocks the radio out of your other hand. It smashes on the tile floor, and you have no options left but to try to fight him off.
The struggle doesn’t last long. He’s taller and stronger than you, and he probably has a lot of experience subduing people by force. He killed a lot of people with his bare hands after all. 
He manages to knock your feet out from under you and you crash onto the wet floor as the water from the shower pours over you both. He drops down to his knees, straddling your thrashing body, and quickly pins your hands back, on either side of your head. 
“Stop fighting, or I’ll have to hurt you,” he says, his voice frighteningly calm. 
You go still, smart enough to know better than to waste your energy on a losing battle. “You’ll never escape,” you tell him, trying to sound sure of yourself. 
A disturbing grin spreads over his face. “Who said I want to escape?”
“Then what are you…?” Your voice trails off as you realize what he intends to do. “No!” you shout, struggling beneath him. 
He grips both your wrists and then slams them against the floor. “Be still, or I’ll snap your neck! And when the other guard comes back, I’ll snap his neck too! I’m serving a life sentence, I’ve got nothing to lose!”
You go limp, whimpering as he straightens up, releasing your wrists. Even with your hands free, you’re still unarmed, on your back, helpless. Trying to fight him will only get you killed, and possibly your coworker as well. You’re dealing with a murderer, so his threats are definitely not empty. 
“That’s it,” he says, lightly stroking your now wet hair, “that’s a good girl. Now keep being good for me, and you might just enjoy this.”
You look at him with venom in your eyes. “I would never-“
He covers your mouth with his own, his tongue slipping past your lips and mingling with yours. When he pulls away, he’s grinning at you again. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, where your eyes linger. You can deny it all you like, but I know what you want.”
“You’re wrong,” you tell him, looking him straight in the eyes. 
“Really? Guess we’ll see.”
You can feel the water on the floor seeping into your clothes, the edge of the shower’s spray hitting your left arm and shoulder, as his hands move to the buttons of your shirt. With nimble, steady fingers, he unbuttons them, shoving your shirt open to reveal your white lace bra. Then he pushes it up, above your breasts, exposing you. 
Turning your head to the side, you avert your eyes as his hands squeeze and rub your soft flesh. You refuse to make a sound. You won’t give him the satisfaction. 
Once he’s done groping your chest, he moves down, unbuckling your belt, then unzipping your standard gray uniform pants. You draw in a sharp breath as he yanks your pants down your legs, but otherwise remain silent. 
“Moment of truth,” he says, then he pauses. You glance back at him, and he says, “I’ll make a deal with you. If your pussy isn’t wet at all, and not from the water, I’ll stop. I won’t touch you again. But if you’re all sticky and ready for me…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence. You squint your eyes closed, and he pulls your panties off before opening your legs. You feel his fingers touch you, slide into you way too easily, and then he laughs. 
“In knew it! You’re drenched.”
You open your eyes, your face hot with embarrassment. “It’s the water! I’m not… aroused.”
He holds his fingers up, moving them like scissors to show the stretchy strings of fluid. “This isn’t water.”
You look away again, tears blurring your vision. Even you don’t know why you’re turned on by him. He’s a killer! “Just… don’t hurt me,” you finally say. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Huh?” He looks confused for a moment, staring at your face with red eyes until your words click. “Wait, never? So you’re…?”
You don’t say anything to confirm it, you don’t have to. You’re waiting for some gross comment or mockery, but he just leans his face down close to your ear and says, “I’ll take care of you.”
What does that mean? Before you can react, his fingers are inside you again, probing, stroking, making you feel things you’ve never felt before. You let out a small cry, and then clamp your hand over your mouth. You swore you wouldn’t make a sound! 
Shigaraki grins down at you. “Cute,” he says, before dipping his head down to kiss your neck. He’s being strangely gentle, kissing you like a lover, making your heart flutter even as your mind rejects everything that’s happening right now. 
You feel pleasure building in your core, and you fight the feeling with everything you have. You can’t cum from being touched by this monster! You just can’t! 
Mercifully, he stops, pulling his hand away and licking his fingers. You watch him, your breaths coming faster, your heart pounding. Then, you feel his hands on your hips, holding you in place. You don’t struggle as he pushes himself inside you, slowly and carefully, looking you in the eyes. You’re not even sure if you want to struggle anymore. 
There’s a disturbing beauty to him as he hovers over you, his damp white hair spilling over his shoulders, his intense eyes shimmering. When he begins moving inside you, he starts with shallow thrusts, slightly stretching you as he goes. There’s a bit of a sting, but nothing like you expected, especially with him. 
“You’re doing so good,” he says into your ear before kissing your lips again and thrusting a bit deeper. “Being such a good girl for me.”
As he starts to go faster, harder, he reaches down with one hand and strokes your clit with his fingers, making your hips buck reflexively. A moan escapes you, but at this point you’ve stopped caring if you make noise. You both hate this and love it, and you can’t decide which emotion is stronger. 
The pleasure builds again, spiraling through your body, and this time, nothing you can do will stop it. 
You cry out as you climax, your back arching. Shigaraki has one hand on your thigh, the other buried in your hair, and he keeps fucking you deeply as you ride out the storm of pleasure, clenching tightly around him. Eventually you feel him twitch inside you, and then he cums, not even bothering to try pulling out. He coats your insides completely, looking down at you with twisted affection in his eyes. “Good girl,” he says, before pulling out of you and standing up. 
He showers off again while you scramble to put your wet clothes back on, having no idea what to do about this. And so when your fellow guard finally returns, you’re silent besides telling him you got wet catching Shigaraki when he nearly fainted. 
Your mind is racing. Shigaraki dresses and smiles at you as you escort him back to his cell, looking almost smug. 
As you lock the door, he looks at you and says, “I hope you’ll be on shower duty more often.”
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Text
Unbroken
Part 14
(previous part here)
Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x You
Summary: It’s the end.
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Warnings: 18+ MDNI! A little smut, p in v, biting, a little exhibitionism (kinda?), use of a makeshift gag, overstimulation, etc.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
A few weeks later on a beautiful spring Saturday, you became Mrs. Bradshaw.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the church as your dad escorted you down the aisle in a beautiful white gown (your mom insisted it was fine for you to wear white, since “no one’s a virgin anymore when they get married”) to Bradley, looking handsome as ever in his dress blues.
It was a small, intimate ceremony with only your family, Mav, and Penny present due to the short notice, but the plan was to have a larger reception the following year after the baby arrived.
After the emotional vows, exchanging of rings and the pronunciation of husband and wife, a small get-together is held at your parent’s house.
There are a few tears shed but a lot more laughter when the toasts are given. You notice Charlie discreetly switching her full flute of champagne out with Jake’s but he fails to notice.
It’s when she knocks over her chair in haste to get to the bathroom when Jake sets a plate of food in front of her that your suspicions are confirmed.
“You okay?” You ask when she comes back a few minutes later, leaning on your brother and pale as a ghost.
“Yeah,” she replies with a forced smile. But her lip begins to quiver before she bursts into tears.
“What’s wrong?” You ask as you rub her back. You look to Jake but he’s just as confused as you.
“I’m so sorry, I just found out this morning,” she sobs, “I didn’t want to take away from your special day and here I am making a big scene.”
“Found out what this morning?” Jake asks, still not connecting the dots.
“That I’m pregnant,” she replies, smiling briefly before her face crumples again. “I was planning on telling you tonight with this cute onesie and now I fucking ruined it like I ruined their wedding day-“
She cuts off with an ‘oomph’ as Jake wraps her in his arms. Even Mav has tears in his eyes at the scene unfolding.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
“You didn’t ruin anything,” you assure her, hugging her when it’s finally your turn. “In fact, the news made it even better.”
“Really?” She asks, wet tears hitting your shoulder.
“Really,” you confirm, laughing through your own as the news settles in. “Oh my God, this is amazing! Our babies are gonna grow up together, Charlie.”
“God help us all,” Tom mumbles, gasping when Ruth gives him a pinch. “Hey! I was kidding!”
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
Bradley takes you to a sleepy little beach town for your honeymoon/babymoon 3 months later, shortly after finding out you’re having a girl.
Her initial tiny flutters were turning into more pronounced kicks but Bradley had yet to feel anything. The little stinker ceases all movement the moment he touches your stomach.
The second trimester has been a breeze; the nausea is gone and your mood swings level out while your sex drive seems to increase with every passing week.
You’re insatiable, which isn’t a bad thing considering Bradley can’t keep his hands off your body, especially your growing belly.
“How do I look?” You ask under the shade of the cabana he rented as you drop your swimsuit cover revealing a bikini underneath before giving him a spin. “The top is a little small-“
You laugh as he desperately yanks down the sunshade, giving you some privacy.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
“Shhhh,” you shush him a few minutes later after he fails to bite back his groan as you ride him at a steady, unforgiving pace. “Gotta be quiet.”
“I can’t-fuck!” His eyes roll back when you pinch his nipple at the same time you pinch one of yours. “I’m trying.”
“Try harder,” you pant, smirking down at him. “Or I’ll make you.”
He chuckles breathlessly. “I’d like to see you try-shit,” he rasps when you lean forward to suck a bruise near his collarbone while your hand reaches for your discarded bikini bottoms.
His eyes fly open and his hips stutter when you force the material into his mouth, sadly muffling his wrecked sounds.
You’re getting close but he cums soon after, unable to hold off with you on top of him and the taste of your arousal on his tongue.
You ride him faster, pushing him into overstimulation as you chase your orgasm. He trembles under you and a quiet whimper escapes when you sink your teeth into his pec, right underneath the bruise you sucked moments earlier as the waves of pleasure wash over you.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
“What about Iris?” Bradley asks, playing with your hair as he again searches for baby names.
Your first suggestion when you had found out her gender had been Carole or at least a variation to honor his mom, but he shook his head with an exasperated sigh before telling you how she forbade it after she got sick. Apparently, she had never cared for her name, but begrudgingly agreed to let it be a middle name; as long as the future mom agreed.
“Hmm?” You hum sleepily against his chest.
Between the sunshine, fresh air, and good sex, you’re ready for a nap. The slow swaying of the hammock you’re in isn’t helping.
“Iris. For her name,” he replies, setting his phone aside before kissing your forehead. “It’s pretty and it means ‘rainbow’; which is fitting since she’s a rainbow baby.”
Hot tears swim in your eyes as he heals yet another part of you that he didn’t break. You lift your head to look at him. “Yes. It’s perfect,” you whisper, tilting your chin to request a kiss. “You’re perfect. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he replies, bringing his arm around to palm your stomach. “And you, Iris Carole Bradshaw.”
That’s when she gives him her biggest kick yet.
“Whoa,” he laughs, delighted, “did you feel that? She kicked! Wow.”
“I think she likes the name too,” you smile, placing your hand over his.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
Iris graces the world with her presence a few months later, followed by her cousin, ‘Lou’ Seresin not long after, both perfect in every way.
The end.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
A/N: Welllllllll that’s the end! I’m not sure how to feel.
Sorry if it seemed rushed, I realize I really suck at wrapping things up 🥴
Anyone else want to cry when Bradley suggested the name Iris? 🙋🏻‍♀️
Also (maybe it’s obvious but just in case it’s not) Louisa is both a nod to Emma (middle name Lou) and Charlie’s late mama, Lisa.
If there’s anything you want me to add or answer, let me know! My inbox is always open ☺️
As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!
Tagging (please let me know if you want to be added/removed!):
@its-the-pilot
@dizzybee03
@sweetwhispersofchaos
@shanimallina87
@blindedbythelightt
@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth
@lexixstewart
@phoenix-rising-starbird-one
@mrsrobertfloyd5
@charmedkim
@k-k0129
@bellaireland1981
@hookslove1592
@amiets2
@nero4te
@eli2447
@atarmychick007
@vixenobrian
@86laura11
@hisredheadedgoddess28
@dempy
@angelbabyyy99
@buckysteveloki-me
@djs8891
@mizzzpink
@daggerspare-standingby
@mrsevans90
@littlezee80
@emma8895eb
@jessicab1991
@devil-angel-winchester
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mhahaikyuus · 3 days
Text
Hair
wc:; 1.4k
tags: black reader x katsuki, newly established relationship (still trying to keep up the illusion for your partner), black reader doing her hair, emotional reader, Katsuki being the rational calm boyfriend, fluffy, cute ending.
a/n: i skimmed barely proofread sorry for any mistakes, hope you guys enjoy. reblogs appreciated.
“I can come over tonight?” Katsuki asked on speaker of your phone. 
You two spent everyday together since he had confessed to you by shoving flowers into your hands and running off before you had a chance to respond in slight shock. 
“Uh I’m busy tonight sorry.” You said watching yourself in the mirror studying your scalp distracted. 
“Okay what about tomorrow?” Katsuki grunted unhappy he would spend time away from you. 
“Tomorrow I'm busy too, i can’t hang out this weekend.” You said eyeing the thin black plastic bag filled with beauty supplies sitting on your vanity. 
He frowned, you always told him about upcoming plans you had. At lunch always rambling about whatever you wanted and him listening with small grunts and nods. You didn’t mention anything before about plans. 
“What are you doing?” He asked. Not wanting to pry so early into a relationship and scare you off. He had plans to make you his permanently but he was nosey. 
“My hair,” You answered honestly.
“What do you mean your hair? It takes that long?” He asked confused. 
“Yeah, it does. I have a lot of hair and it takes a lot of hours sometimes a couple of days.” You admitted with a sigh already dreading the process. 
Katsuki sat there on the other side of the phone with a small sigh of relief. You weren’t blowing him off with anyone else, just your hair. He had no idea about black hair but he knew he cared about you and that meant this was important. 
“Do you need help?” He offered making you silent in surprise widely blinking at the phone. 
The man that would tell his partner in the field to fuck off when he asked. Was readily offering you his help. 
You let out a small laugh, “I do but I don’t think you know what that entails. It’s a really long process and it’s tiring. Im okay though thanks for asking.” 
He just wanted to see you. After spending every day together for a month, he doesn’t know if he could go 3 days. 
“Alright the offer still stands if you change your mind. Don’t tire yourself out.” He sighed and you both said your goodbyes. 
You fiddled with the ends of your hair with a huff. 
“Let’s get this over with.” 
~
You wanted to ram your head into a wall. Staring at half your head being braided, 10 hours down and probably another 7 to go. 
Your back hurt, your arms hurt, your head hurt it was not ideal. Not eating all day and getting irritated at everything you were in a mood. 
Throwing the rat tail comb from your hands on the floor you flopped onto your bed in tears needing a break. 
Your phone began buzzing, face still in the mattress you reached around til you found it and pressed answer button. 
“Hello,” You answered muffled 
“Hey how’s it going?” Bakugo asked 
You sniffled pulling your head up tears running. 
“It’s fine.” 
Bakugo heard how upset you were causing his forehead to crease, “What’s wrong baby?” in a softer voice. 
“It’s nothing it’s just my hair and i’m tired and cranky and i haven’t eaten all day. I’ve only done maybe half of my head and i want to stop.” You said through tears. 
“Hey, hey please stop crying it’ll be okay.” Katsuki said trying to soothe you through the phone but it wasn’t working. Noticing a twinge in his chest at the sound of your soft sniffles.
You left out small huffs trying to control your breathing, “Yeah…sorry I should go you don’t want to hear me crying. Sorry to bother.” You realized you were probably scaring away the one guy you did like with your hysterics. 
“No I didn-“ 
“I have to go thanks for calling.” 
Katsuki stared at the phone feeling his stomach sink. 
~
You cried until your eyes were puffy and reluctantly went back to braiding your hair. You were so impatient and tender headed but you would not spend 200+ dollars on box braids. 
After about an hour you heard a knock on your door. You opened it to your boyfriend with a bag of takeout and one from the pharmacy. 
You yelped in surprise slamming the door just as fast as you opened it. 
Katsuki was very confused and kind of hurt at your reaction. 
“Y/n! What the fuck come on.” He yelled from the other side of the door. 
Your face held such embarrassment, hoping this was a figment of your imagination. 
Your boyfriend was NOT here when you looked like a hot mess. 
Your non-black boyfriend at that. 
This is a nightmare. 
“What are you doing here!” You yelled back through the door. 
“Baby you were crying and I haven’t seen you in almost 2 days!"
You groaned, “You can’t see me like this! you have to go home.” 
He grunted in annoyance, “You better open up. Im not leaving when you were crying.” 
You were silent waiting for him to go home and he wasn’t budging. With a sigh you opened the door peaking out at him. 
“Are ya gonna let me in?” He asked with raised blond eyebrows and pretty crimson eyes.
You opened the door and stepped aside. 
“What’s wrong why are you slamming doors and crying?” He asked looking down at you as he entered your apartment.  
You slowly closed the door behind you and leaned back against it. 
“I didn’t want you to see me like this.” You admitted thankful that you didn't blush noticeably.
“Baby like what.” He sighed dropping the bags on your coffee table and bringing you in close. 
Your head fell into his muscular chest, smelling his cologne.
“My hair.” You mumbled into his shirt.
He pulled back and used one hand to push back your hair to see your face. Your hair is in sections and a half-braided mess. 
“I like you and your hair. So will you calm down please?” 
“Really?” You asked with teary eyes looking up at him. 
“Yes, I do.” He reassured his hands gently holding you, his main goal to calm you down from this tired anxiety driven mood.
“Okay.” You mumbled head falling back into his chest. 
He rubbed your back, “What’s going on?” asking again. 
“I stayed up all night and im not even halfway done. I have a headache.” You mumbled in tears. 
Katsuki led you to the couch and made you take a seat. 
“Take a break. You look hangry and I brought food.” He said propping you in his lap and handing you takeout. 
You finished your food and leaned your head in his neck. Your headache stopping. He was right as usual, you were hangry. 
“I’m sorry for slamming the door in your face that was mean.” You said wrapping him in a side hug. 
His hand rubbed the side of your thigh with a light kiss on your nose. 
“It’s okay, ya didnt break my nose with the door slam.” Katsuki said making you laugh.
“Can I?” He asked gesturing to your head and you nodded. 
Katsuki’s thick fingers touching your blow dried hair. 
“It’s soft.” He said with mild surprise, “Like really soft.” 
You laughed, “Yeah I do have soft hair, but so do you.” Reaching up and lightly tugging on his spiky blonde hair. His hair was getting longer in the back. It may be because he loves your hands all over him and especially his head, giving you more hair to yank. Just a theory of course you would never say to him.
He grunted, “You feel better?” 
“Yes…” You nodded as he smiled knowing what he was gonna say
“Crying over the being hungry?” He teased showing his canines with his smile and you rolled your eyes. 
“Shut up.” 
“I’m just saying.” 
“Are you discriminating against a black woman?” You squinted but Bakugo had heard that before. 
“I just came over here with food to stop your crying and got a door slammed in my face.” He said with narrowed eyes matching your own.
“Uh fine.” You sighed, “Can you not be a good boyfriend so I can call you a bigot.” Your hand trailing up his stomach under his shirt, wanting skin to skin contact.
He pinched the inside of your thigh making you yelp in pain in response. His head deeply buried into your neck just enjoying your touch
“Ow…”You whined rubbing the bruised spot. 
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weneeya · 18 hours
Note
Another request 👉🏼👈🏼
Depressed geto × reader , Their first meeting and their attraction to each other, and how geto finally felt like he could breathe after he felt happy with her and fell in love with her.
Saving his life
comfort with Geto
thank you for your request!! I'll try my best then <3 requests are open :)
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The last few days, or even weeks, were pretty hard for Geto Suguru. Since the incident with his best friend and their mission, Suguru hasn't been the same. He was clearly overthinking all the time, and getting out was a real difficulty for him. He was doing the bare minimum, when he was able to. Depression was hitting hard, even if he refused to admit it. 
He was outside today, as he had to do some groceries. Nothing too much, but it was a necessity. Long black hair running down his shoulders, and visible dark circles under his eyes ; no one would dare even approach him like this. No one except you. 
He was in front of a display, looking for something, when he heard someone clear his throat. You were right behind him, with this soft look on his face, all shy at the idea of talking to him. You looked away, playing nervously with the handle of your bag. 
“Excuse me, can you help me, please? I need this, up there, but I can’t reach it,” you said, pointing out the thing on the top shelf. He looked at it, before looking back at you. He stayed silent, before grabbing the said thing, and giving it to you. A smile appeared on your lips, before you let his gaze again. 
“Thank you!” You told him, before slightly waving at him. In those words, you left to go back to doing your own groceries. He stayed there for a few moments before a soft smile left his lips, going back to what he was doing. 
After this, you met each other a few times. It was like fate wanted you to meet again and again. It was in random situations, and soon or later he learned your name. He wasn’t really in the mood  to meet anyone, or even to let anyone come into his life ; but you were so sweet, all the time. 
You were like a ray of light in the dark hell of his mind. You were constantly the only positive thing that happened in his day every time he was meeting you. You were just here, with your bright smile and your soft voice. No matter how bad he felt, it was always better when you were here. 
He wasn’t so sure about how he felt about you. It was a bit messy in his head because he was so lost with himself and his own emotions. But after some time, he started to see you voluntarily. In fact, he was asking you out for dates, but he wouldn’t admit it. He wasn’t ready to even think about a relationship right now. 
But you were, and you knew that you started to like him. Suguru was a man who was getting killed slowly by his own mind, and you didn’t want to let him stay in this hell alone. You wanted to help him, and he was willing to let you do it, then you would. 
Day after day, you were growing closer to each other. And finally, Suguru started to realize how he felt towards you. You were a new breath in his life, and he knew that he couldn’t get out of this alone. He needed help, and letting you get into his life would probably be the first step for this. This is why he decided to speak to you about it. 
He called you, asking you to join him in his own apartment, which you did without hesitation. You were a bit worried about him, because he wasn’t really letting you in too frequently. Something inside of you was telling you that something happened. You were glad to see that you were wrong. 
Suguru offered to come sit on the couch with him, and you did without saying anything. Both of you stayed silent for a few moments, before he broke it. He sighed slowly, before massaging his temples. He looked at you, hesitating for some time. 
“I wanted to thank you. You’re helping me, probably more than you would think, and I needed to say thank you,” he started, and you were ready to answer when he stopped you by raising his hand a little. “Let me finish, please.” 
You nodded slowly, and he pursued his words. “I think I’m ready to get some help, for real I mean. But I can’t do this alone. And…” He sighed one more time, rubbing his cheek as he was searching for his words. “What I’m trying to say is that I would love to have you in my life. More than this, I mean.” 
You looked at him without saying anything, processing what he had just said. You weren’t so sure of what he meant, or at least you were scared that you understood it wrong. You were looking into his eyes, before you finally answered. “Are you… asking me out?” 
He looked away, and you could see a hint of a blush over his cheeks. You took it as a yes, and a soft smile appeared on your lips. You slowly grabbed his hands, making him look back at you. “I’d love that, Suguru.” 
This time, it was his turn to process your words. He hoped with everything that you would say yes, but a part of him was scared that he would make you run away. And as you were ready to say something, he simply took your face between his hands to kiss you like his life was depending on it. 
It was only the first step, but he knew that with you in his life, nothing could go wrong.
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hope you liked it!! I've done my best, sorry if it's not perfect :(
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trashcigs · 11 hours
Text
what they notice first ・ 피원하모니 crush!neutral reader + word count 0.9k genre fluff, crushing cw not proof-read — more 👩‍🦰
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keeho, your appearance
heart eyes, heart eyes, heart eyes. keeho just admires you, you're just so ethereal.
treasures photos of you like a soldier going to war. photobooth film strips will be decoed on his bedroom walls, will keep Polaroids of you two on the back of his phone and have the most horrendous (your words not his) goofy .5 photos of you in his camera roll ( he really loves them tho )
when you look away from him to choose a pastry at your favourite cafe, he's looking admiring you through his sunglasses. he loves everything about you, he constantly tells himself that God has favorites.
keeho feels like the entire world is slowing down whenever he looks at you. means every single word, whenever he calls you gorgeous or pretty
will melt into a puddle if you compliment him too
taeyang, your facial expressions
finds the way you move intriguing, laughing at your facial expressions every chance he gets
theo is also very expressive with his emotions, so to see someone who also can't hide them is so endearing to him.
loves the facial expressions you make whenever you find something you like or remember an important detail to a story. the slightly audible gasp, the hand over your mouth, the eyes widening and then darting towards him
when someone you don't like passes the both of you in the library, the disgusted look you both give the person and then each other. barely finding being able to hold in your laughter after seeing the other.
usually ends up finding himself on his bed giggling over the way you gave him a very warm and loving expression, kicking his feet under the duvet and giggling like mad man
jiung, your smile
jiung likes to think that your smile was the first thing that captivated him. he's the type of person who would be having a terrible morning but the moment he sees you smile its suddenly the best day of his life.
he usually finds himself smiling when you're smiling, cheek in his hand, his lips curved up -- eyes like crescents. looks like the snoopy image, stares at you like you hung up the stars. he always does whatever he can to see it, whether that be telling awful jokes, or mimicking anime characters anything that would crack a smile on your face he will do
its even worse when you compliment his gummy smile. completely faltering when you wave goodbye and send a soft smile his way. my friend, he's a goner 🙏
intak, your laugh
intak immediately finds his eyes darting towards you after saying a crappy joke, just to hear and see you laugh
and omg when you do, he's never been happier. will laugh along but only because your laugh makes him so giddy. it's so bad that he recognizes your laughter from distance. he just knows that voice is coming from you.
your laugh is a perfect melody, has never failed to put him into a good mood. he's pretty proud knowing that he can make anyone laugh at his jokes, but for you? he wouldnt mind trying a bit harder
intak thinks your laugh is the most majestic melody bestowed upon this very earth ( his words not mine). when he scrolls through his camera roll to see a video of you laughing at him for losing in a game of basketball at the arcade, he needs to grab the nearest wall before his legs give out on him.
and he's so bad a hiding it. grinning from ear to ear amd eyes turning into crescents whenever he hears you laugh. ( he'll try to turn away because the sound of your laughter is still ringing in his ears and making him giggle like a school girl i front of you)
soul, your eyes
soul really adores your eyes. it's always so full of love. he usually finds himself gazing your way too often. he thinks he's being subtle but you can him bending his neck looking your way every once in a while.
but when your eyes meet he feels the cloud parting and the sun rays shining on him your eyes, finds himself gazing into your ways way too often. when your eyes meet he feels the clouds parting and sun rays bestowing upon him, his body floating to the heavens above.
looses himself too easily, whenever you're arguing and he needs to look up at you he falters. he can't argue with someone who has big beautiful eyes. whatever you say gorgeous
loves how expressive your eyes are , leaning on his hand to stare at them from afar
watches the way your eyes crinkle over the smallest things, they way they shine when he gets one of your favorite snacks!
he definitely has a emoticon dedicated to your big beautiful eyes.
jongseob, your hands
it's the way your hands hold so much warmth that he has the urge to lean into your touch, even if it's for a few seconds ( maybe when he gains the courage )
whenever both your hands brush against each other, seob tries to act slick and nonchalant but his body completely betrays him dating his eyes between your hands your face, and the book in front of him. wondering if you had noticed, if you did it on purpose, if you felt disgusted but will mutter w a small sorry and when you reply its okay he tries to hide his smile behind a book.
does find himself looking at your hands, wondering what it would be like to hold them if they were brushing through his hair if they were on him. he's usually the first the notice if you've done anything with your nails
and compliments you on the new nail sets, the colour, or even the gems. will send you inspo photos for your next visit to the nail salon. ( when you invite him over he loses it )
additional note: jongseob seems like the person who loves to make handmade gifts, bracelets, necklaces, rings -- anything. when he sees you wear them tho he does a doubke take, ( hold his hand n he's sure he can die in peace right then and there
notebook 학! (학!)학 (학 ) 학교안 갔어
taglist ???
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infriga · 6 months
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Me whenever a fic has Connor take out his LED permanently:
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mettywiththenotes · 1 year
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How do you think an interaction between Tomura and Eri would go? I have my own post about it that I'm working on, but I would love to hear your thoughts!
Hmmm hard to say
It's hard to imagine Tomura around little kids
Sometimes I imagine that he'd accidentally scare Eri with how he looks (not just looks but. The Villain Vibes. plus yknow she saw him destroy half the city on tv, thank you very much for that core memory all might) and he'd be all "...whatever" about it but still feel sorry for her, maybe even try to make her feel comfortable afterwards? Not get too near and let Eri have her space
I think he'd be cautious around her. You could put it down to him just not knowing what to do around kids or being afraid he might hurt her somehow, whatever
I do think Eri would be at least a little scared of him at first but if Tomura were to behave carefully, she wouldn't be tempted to run away. Or maybe she'd just find him both scary and strange for a while
I don't know how exactly they'd get to any bonding
Sometimes I like to imagine that Eri, for whatever reason, is self conscious about her scars. Maybe she's trying to hide them or she's upset and clinging to whoever she feels safe with, however she shows it. And then Tomura just shows her his scars, the ones on his face and such, maybe just as a "hey I'm the same, I have scars too, a person who was supposed to take care of me did this" thing
(Tho when I imagine that scenario, I also think about Izuku being in the same room and watching this, and maybe showing his own scars too on his arms. Just the 3 of them talking about it and Izuku is the balance of positivity about it, because I doubt Tomura would have a lot of positive things to say about his scars. So Izuku would be the one to say "these are proof that I've lived, and that's the same for you! for Shigaraki as well!" etc ndsfnisdjk)
Honestly not sure how Tomura and Eri would interact if the League were still together (you know those League-Eri au's?). I always imagine them meeting in scenarios where Izuku has already saved Tomura and the two just end up interacting somehow (maybe through association with Izuku? the I Was Saved By A Teenage Hero And Now He's My New Brother club)
Part of me thinks Tomura would also have a little bit of awareness about what she thinks? Idk, maybe it's just me jumping to conclusions but those comments he made in his backstory narration about kids being simpler and sneakier and saying "when you're little, a grown ups words are absolute" tipped me off to that. Maybe he wouldn't have an exact knowledge about it, but he'd be able to guess with how he felt when he was younger? If that makes sense
I do think, despite how distant or awkward Tomura might be with Eri, he'd be kind to her too. Again, the whole "I know what it's like to be that scared as a child" thing coming into play. This also ties in with the above paragraph, how he could relate to her in a way?
If we're to go with the After Tomura Is Saved scenario I mentioned before, with how Eri seems brighter in canon now and a little more eager to do things, I think she could also help him improve somehow. Not in a huge way, but just. in small ways. Maybe seeing someone much younger than him recover from a similar situation could help Tomura feel better and want to do better
Finally, I can't help but think Eri would love to braid his hair. Imagine Nejire taught her how to do it and now she can't stop, and she sees Tomura's long hair and she's like 🤩. And if Tomura is okay with being touched, he'd let her do it while he's playing a game or something. He doesn't really pay much attention to her actions until she's all done and he's looking in the mirror and he's like "hm. oh 😳 huh"
(I'm living vicariously through a 6 year old. I wanna braid his hair so bad)
Sorry this is kind of a messy scattered way to lay out my ideas but. thems the thoughts
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skrunksthatwunk · 14 days
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playing dmc1 with my earbuds in (but on low volume bc they're being weird) while my roommate and her shitty bf argue. i feel like i'm recreating the very specific experience of some child of divorce out there
#how do i tell her she needs to break up with him immediately. posthaste.fuck it funny post over rant incoming tw emotional abuse i think#nyarla dni#(<- roomie and nyarla have met and i don't wanna air roomie's drama to ppl who know her w/o her consent. anon internet ppl only)#listen i'm normally for gentle advising and that's probably what i'll do since i don't want to stress her out but oh my fucking god what is#his problem. he's constantly putting her in these weird no-win situations where the only right answer is to never be upset or disagree or b#wrong on accident or be misunderstood by him and to tell him everything she's feeling so she's not 'playing mind games' but if she says wha#she's feeling he'll interrogate her and badger her with the same questions over and over again insisting she's unreasonable until she gives#in and says she's sorry with an attitude he likes. i fucking don't like him. and a lot of this is observations from today. the day after sh#GOT INTO A CAR ACCIDENT AND BROKE HER NECK. WHAT THE FUCK.#it's like he expects to be treated like a king on one of the worst days of her life and when she's upset he's like OH. OH I GET IT.#and lectures her on having attitude and taking things out on others when she's literally not even doing that. not to an extent that matters#anyway. like. there's more productive ways of dealing with that. where you don't treat them like a bad kid for getting overwhelmed#he has made her cry multiple times today. i have been around multiple arguments and fights and he's just genuinely. awful i hate him#hell the first argument i overheard *i* was in tears by the end (luckily they left soon after bc i had to run to the basement laundry#dungeon to bawl my eyes out because 1. i can't handle confrontation 2. i've never seen roomie cry and 3. she just seemed so hurt and tired)#anyway he just left again after a fight because. god this is so dumb. she told him to move while they were sleeping in the same twin bed#(remember she's in a neck brace) and he fucking. left the room for an HOUR bc he thought the only thing that could POSSIBLY mean (as he#insisted) was for him to get out of here and then when she was like oh hey i'm sorry i didn't mean it like that he decided to spend the nex#half hour of his short time on this earth chewing her out for not giving him a lengthy explanation while half-asleep as to like. why he#needed to move (she wanted to grab smth) and apparently he sat in the chair by her bed for like 10 mins before leaving so he probably saw#her fall back asleep. and then he got pissy when after he left she didn't pick up her phone when he was calling her? even though he knew sh#was asleep?? she didn't even know he was gone. fucking. i need to get him away from my roomie YESTERDAY#look. miscommunication happens. i'm not saying he's an asshole for wanting things said clearly. i am pro-saying what you mean.#but if every time your gf tells you what she means you make it into a 30 minute lecture (no matter how small the slight and w/o examining i#you're actually right or not) she's not gonna wanna fucking tell you if she doesn't think it's worth the argument. especially if you never#let her rest until she concedes. apology isn't enough. clarification isn't enough. she has to say how wrong she was and beg and GOD. UGHHH#and he's always on about how she hurts his feelings. a gust of wind could hurt his feelings. he's constantly berating her manipulating her#and then he's like >:( see that hurt my feelings you can't hurt ppl's feelings. you're disrespectful. HE"S THE WORST I FUCKING HATE HIM#look sometimes adversity reveals the truth of a person and this just amplified his shittiness so much. mr OH i slept in a HOSPITAL and it#was so bad... you can't be in a bad mood bc i've been doing the bare minimum and you need to prioritize MY feelings rn. also i won't leave
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churipu · 3 months
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YOU SLEEPING ON A COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro x reader
note. i hv so many ideas right now apart from what i'm actually supposed to be focusing on, so...pls excuse me.
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GOJO SATORU. arguments with gojo are a pain in the ass, he's petty and everything will be a mess. he's so stubborn that it actually baffles you sometimes — and he calls you rock head?
being a sorcerer is never an easy job. gojo wakes up every day, not knowing whether he'd die in a mission or get to live another day. so when you brought up your concerns about it to him, the male didn't take it lightly. things have been tight for him, and you're walking on eggshells for the past few days.
the slightest thing angered him, like how his sleeve got stuck on the door handle, or the way he curses out loudly when he stubs his toe on the coffee table. it puts him in a shitty mood, so when that happens, and you try to talk to him about his job.
gojo gets very pissy about it.
frankly, you understood where his anger comes from. and it was part of your fault to bother him the moment he came back from work exhausted, it was bound to happen so you weren't really blaming him at all from the projecting of his anger to you the night before — he didn't say hurtful things, gojo knew better than that. all he did was tell you to leave him alone and get out of his sight for the night.
and you did. sleeping alone on the couch, all sprawled out, an arm dangling on the edge; while a string of drool dribbled down the corner of your lips.
you seemed to not mind having to sleep on the couch (under your own want). but your boyfriend did, the moment he knew your bed time strikes — he came out of the room and eyed your sleeping form. guilt washing over him when all you did was care about his being and how dangerous the jujutsu world is.
gojo approaches you and gently carried you in his arms, an arm right under your bottom and his other arm around your waist. hoisting you up like a baby as your cheek leaned onto his shoulder, letting the drool blotch his shirt. he doesn't care at all.
the male tucks you in the bed, pulling the covers over you before slipping next to you, chest pressed to your back and an arm resting on your hip. gojo will never let you sleep a whole night on the couch, he will bring you to sleep with him and apologize the very next day for being such an ass.
he also, tried to make it up to you by cooking a classic english breakfast. which ended up in chaos — and you both decided to order take out instead.
GETO SUGURU. geto is usually calm and collected; he doesn't really get angry at anything. even if he does, he mostly keeps it to himself unless it really bothers him. but since humans have certain capacities to their own emotion — geto is not spared from being angry, no matter how calm he is.
after the death of amanai, you could feel him change. your geto. it was traumatizing for him, and you understood. always being there for him, never leaving him alone. the dark circles under his eyes were apparent, and it looked like he hasn't had a good night sleep for what seemed like . . . weeks, or months, if that's even possible.
geto appreciated your company, really. but sometimes, he also wanted to be left alone to dwell on his feelings. he didn't want to end up saying hurtful things to you because he was so angry at himself. but he did, and god was it horrible.
he was already feeling like shit before the argument— which if you see, wasn't really an argument at all. it was one-sided, geto was telling you off and you didn't say anything back. because you knew he didn't mean it. he almost desperately begged for you to leave him alone because your presence was "annoying" him and he couldn't stand it.
although geto said it in a heap of moment. he didn't mean it, and before he could say anything else, you tell him that you were going to be sleeping on the couch, so if he needed anything he was free to come to you.
geto didn't stop you. he was busy hating on himself for telling you that — and believe me when i say that he, right there, almost cried out of frustration.
he tossed and turned on his bed. where you were usually on too, beside him, holding his hand whilst he sleep. your hushed voice lulling him into a peaceful slumber; but you weren't there today, all because he told you to leave him alone. geto sat up, his eyelids heavy, but no matter how long he shut is, they always open back up.
with slow and heavy steps, he approaches you on the couch. and geto had always knew that you were a light sleeper, so his footsteps awoken you. seeing your eyes flutter open, geto slid on the couch, laying himself on top of you — head on your chest, arms clutching onto your shirt like he's desperate for your presence, and his legs intertwining with yours.
getos' hushed apologies were heard as he leaned into your warmth, and you told him that you were never angry. brushing his hair, massaging his scalp using your fingertips before lulling him to sleep, and geto did. almost immediately. and so did you.
he could never sleep without you. whether it being on the bed, the couch, or anywhere else — as long has you were with him, he will find the ability to drift off.
TOJI FUSHIGURO. is an ass. let's face it — he wouldn't give a fuck if you decided to sleep on the couch after an argument, at least for the first couple of hours. toji is a blunt man, and he's a sole believer that nobody could bear sleeping on the couch when there's a bed in the house.
but you were there to prove him wrong.
after an argument going south, he finds you grabbing your pillow and then seeking shelter on the couch. and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, knowing you'd come crawling back on the mattress after a few hours — because who'd choose the couch over the bed?
you. apparently.
he slept without a single care, thinking of words to say when you finally decided to come back on the bed. but when he woke up at three am, his arm searching to find your body, but realizing all he was catching was air — he finally realized that you weren't coming back onto the bed.
and it annoyed him. he was angry that you weren't there. and at three am? he was already wide awake, walking out of the room angrily. but his gaze softened when he saw you asleep, the constant flashing light from the television panning on your body; toji walks over, snatches the remote and turns the device off.
letting out a soft sigh, toji squats down, flicking your forehead. and the action was enough to make you grimace lightly in your sleep — although not enough to wake you up completely. the male chuckled and prepped an arm under the hollow under your knees, and an arm across your shoulder.
with ease he brought you into your shared room and he laid you down on the bed, covering your body with the blanket before he slips into his own portion of the bed. scooting closer to you as you instinctively nuzzled into his chest, seeking for comfort.
toji wouldn't admit that he was the one who brought you into the bed and would end up saying how you came crawling back at three am. you always find out the truth though, and toji tells you to forget about whatever he did because he won't be doing it again (he will).
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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angelltheninth · 8 months
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Sex to destress with jjk men? You mentioned it a few times and it got my mind running.
Trust me it got my mind running too.
Pairing: Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, hickies, sex to destress, mating press, creampie, getting home for work, post-mission adrenaline, frustration
A/N: They can destress me anytime, any day of the week. Except for Saturday's, I always get the most rest then.
YUUJI
Even when he's fucking to let go of the stressful energy he's stil trying to hold back a little. Yuuji never hurts you, even if you ask him to it would make him feel bad so instead what he likes most is marking you, in every place he can get his lips and cock on. One of the things he likes most is giving you a little hickyes on the thigh and then pulling his cock out abruptly, smearing cum over the marked spot while watching you pussy flutter and then go back in.
SUKUNA
He's not even stressed that many times, he uses it as an excuse to go really, really rough with you. Not that he needs one you're already used to taking one cock and then the second on a regular basis. There's a ferocity to him when he comes back from talking with the Sorcerers though, he's more pissed off that they're lecturing him then stressed, but the two can easily overlap and that's why he loves to know you'll gladly be face down on the bed, ready for him when he gets home.
MEGUMI
Tries to keep it a little bit quiet, he doesn't want his teammates and neighbors to hear how he makes you scream and moan. It's selfish, but he loves to be the only one knowing of the sounds you make, just like only you know of this side of him that pushes your front against the wall and can't wait for clothes to come off in order to sick his cock into you. When you needs to orgasm he tells you to stay quiet, keep that voice of your only for him.
GOJO
Is often in too much of a good mood to be stresses this much, him fucking you in the hallway is quite rare. He's shoving his head against your pussy, lapping at you like a madman, gripping your hips not letting you go anywhere until your juices are all over his face. Not yet, he isn't done, he can't be done until he sees his cum dripping from your pussy like a waterfall. He holds you up, this position letting his cock hit as deep as it can go in you.
NANAMI
Most people wouldn't think it because he's keeping his emotions in check but in reality he's stressed almost every day about something or someone. So almost every day he has to fuck his stress away otherwise he's getting more and more irritated every day and it makes him lose sleep. It's not odd to wake up to him coming home at night and spreading your legs to make room for his cock. He won't be able to calm down until he makes you come.
GETO
He's actually not that stressed often but you can be so that in turn stresses him out. It's pretty much always mutual when you fuck the stress out of each other. The only time when he lets you be on top for the most of the night is when he know he needs his cock bad. He doesn't mind it if his cum gets all over his abs while you're doing it, there's many ways to get cleaned up afterwards.
TOJI
If he's stressed you're not getting off his dick for hours. If you behave like a brat and try to run, shaky as your legs are, he admires that but you won't get away from him. He'll fold you in half over any and every surface in the house and fuck you until you're a puddle on the floor. And if you think he'll stop there you're dead wrong, if your pussy can't take anymore he'll straddle you and fuck your throat instead until you choke on his dick.
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riki-dazed · 24 days
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Best friends can kiss, right? -- PART 1
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3:00 AM -- Finding Hope · part 2 · fluff · wc: 792
"I'm so tired," You sigh, watching Riki search for another song on the computer that he's currently sat in front of.
The both of you had spent the last couple of hours together in his personal studio, turning the tight space into a full blown karaoke room. All that you hoped for tonight was that no one would come knocking at the door, considering that Riki already had to sneak you into the company building.
Your body falls backwards against your sofa, yes, your sofa. The tiny, barely-seats-two one that Riki had cramped into the corner of his studio, just so you'd have somewhere to sit, or sleep on, when you'd visit him. You loved that about your best friend the most, his overly thoughtful and sweet nature. To Riki, your comfort and happiness has always been at the top of his priorities list.
Your gaze stays on Riki as you watch him scroll through one of his spotify playlists, your head resting on your arms in which are slumped over an armrest. Eliciting a hum of approval, he finally decides on a song after a few moments. The slow, soft melody that engulfs the space causes your eyes to flutter closed. It was a familiar sound, one of your favorites. You hear your best friend humming along to the tune, the sound of his soft tone further pushing you into a sleepy trace. It's about time the both of you finally took a second to calm down, to breathe.
Baby, it's three AM, had you on my mind...
"Here," A deep voice cuts you out of your trance, you blink your eyes open, "Lean on me, it's comfier,"
You glance over your shoulder towards the direction where the voice was coming from, suddenly finding Riki's body sat beside yours on the little sofa. You give him a small smile as you pick yourself up and off the uncomfortable armrest, you nuzzle yourself into his side. His body's warm, the fabric of his hoodie soft against the skin on your face.
He smells good, too.
"We should probably go home soon," You murmur against him, your eyes closing shut yet again. Who knows what the time must be, though, you're too comfortable and cozy to even care about it at the moment.
"Later," The boy beside you replies, his voice barely above a whisper as his hand snakes its way around to the side of your waist. He pulls you into him.
You nestle closer into Riki, enjoying the warmth of his embrace, and the comfort of his presence. Every other irrelevant thought within your mind fades away as you focus on the soft music playing through the speakers. The feeling of contentment envelops the both of you.
Cause baby, if I find a way, I'm sure of it, this love won't stray...
"..just give me a chance to say I love you, and I need you, now are you here to stay," Riki sings along quietly, his deep voice is as soft and as smooth as a cloud.
Despite the late hour, you have nowhere else that you would rather be than right here.
Wanting you more and more, I can't help but think of what we could be...
Without a single thought behind your actions, the lyrics suddenly cause you to lift your head off him. As you meet Riki's gaze, you find yourself getting lost within his sharp eyes, seeing a reflection of the emotions swirling within your own chest. Neither of you exchange a single word, yet a silent understanding engulfs the space between the both of your bodies, a mutual recognition of something unspoken, yet deeply felt. You feel the weight of the lyrics echoe within your mind, and stomach, in the form of a hundred butterflies.
As you continue to scan your best friend's face, you see a vulnerability in his expression. It's as if he's laying bare his soul before you, offering you a glimpse into his unspoken feelings.
"This feels dangerously intimate," You murmur out of the blue, the sudden seriousness had caused you to almost start feeling awkward. You and Riki were barely ever a serious pair when together, you needed to lighten the mood somehow..
Riki can't help but shake his head over your sudden remark, he lets a chuckle escape his lips. You smile at his heartwarming reaction, yet you can't shake the feeling that had just engulfed you moments prior.
You can't help but realize that perhaps the both of you had been dancing around the edges of something more profound than mere friendship.
"Best friends can kiss, right?"
Your eyes grow wide as Riki catches you completely off guard with his sudden question, your smile drops off your face.
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tarjapearce · 9 months
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Marvelous
Miguel O'Hara x Pregnant! Reader
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WARNINGS: Little bit of angst, fluff, protective Miguel. Nudity appreciation, pregnancy, emotional distress over pregnancy, body change.
Summary: You don't feel enough for Miguel. He proves you wrong.
Requested here
Hope you like anon ✨
Being with someone like Miguel was far from easy. Coworkers in Alchemax, that slowly melted into friends, little jokes here and there, a little more trust and the friend line blurred more and more, until, oop! Attraction led the way until love went ahead of it.
And now, a couple of years later, here you were, padding your fingertips and massaging gently the top of your round and pregnant belly.
Miguel was like a happy madman when you told him that you were pregnant. But that also had been the start of a stage you had never seen him before. Overprotection.
If you wanted to get your slippers, he'd bend over and place them on your feet, to avoid you flexing too much. He'd always get behind you as you walked down the stairs, would literally do anything to make your pregnancy easier.
Even though his overprotection could be a bit vexing at times, it had more benefits than anything. Your feet were sore? He'd bring some soothing oils and massage them. You woke up craving something? He'd wake up and drive and didn't dare come back until he got you what you craved. Back pains? None of that as he would be your own personal heat provider.
The man loved you, that was much true.
----
As you walked through the streets hand in hand with him, it was unavoidable to not notice the hungry stares some women did his way, then they'd look at you and sneer in a subtle grimace.
Miguel was way into his thoughts to actually pay attention at your mood changing. Self consciousness in your appearance sinking deeper in your head.
"Can... Can we go home?" You halted and he seized you with a curious gaze.
"Thought you wanted to try the place?"
Shaking your head you just pulled him back. The scrutinizing eyes just turned sharper around you. Heart beating faster, some hidden laughs as they glanced your way. You needed to go, your head was spiraling into an unkind tornado of self doubt and deprecating thoughts. Hand squeezed him tightly.
His eyes squinted but he just nodded
"Wanna order food from home?"
You shook your head.
"I just feel a bit tired, that's all." of course he'd notice the little break in your voice.
----
You stared at the mirror, naked. Swollen feet, extra pounds that had settled in your hips, inner thighs and arms. A wider back. Stretch marks in every place you reached to see. Dark spots in certain areas, face puffed and breast that didn't precisely offer much perkiness.
Disgusting
Your mind groaned.
How could he look at you and not feel repulsed?
No. He loved you. Right?
He could get another woman once you've given him what he wants.
The mere thought brought tears to your eyes.
He wouldn't. No he would never do such thing
Why would he waste his precious time in someone like you?
Heart beat painfully fast in your constricted chest.
You're just embarrassing him.
Shaky hands took the first thing that they could grab. A sheet.
Hide away!
The sheets were wrapped around your body, tightly. Your legs made you curl in in the corner nearby the bed. Your own corner of shame.
What did he see in you? What had possessed him into putting a baby in you? Surely there were far better and prettier suitors. Suitors that would look the opposite of you in their pregnancy.
You had seen so many gorgeous women which pregnancies were a breeze. Unlike you, all over the place with clothes that barely fit you. Miguel had given you some of his t shirts and jerseys to be around.
Speaking of the devil...
His keys just tinkered as they were put in the usual spider shaped tray in the entrance. He called your name, but it only made you to recoil further in the sheets.
"Mi amor?" His hand pushed the door open and frowned upon watching you on the floor, sniffling and shielding yourself from whatever that had harmed you.
"Princesa?" He approached carefully upon hearing your muffled sobs. His heart gave panicked leaps. Were you hurt?, No. The doctor had said it was a perfectly healthy baby, and there was no visible sight of any emergency in plain sight. His heart wrenched as you covered more in the sheets the more he approached.
"Go away..."
He stopped, but slowly walked to you.
"Miguel, please just-"
He sat next to you.
"Wanna tell me why my wife is crying on the floor and wrapped in a sheet?"
Shaking your head, you wiped your tears.
"H-How can you be with someone like me?"
The question threw him off guard.
"What did... you just say?"
He wasn't angry, just genuinely curious as to why you'd ask such thing.
"From so many options you could've picked, why would you choose me?"
"I'm sorry but I am not understanding."
"C'mon, Miguel. From all the prettiest women you could've picked, you ended up with me. Why?"
His mind clicked at the sudden realization.
"Because I love you, that's why."
You weren't convinced much to his dismay.
"Come." He stood up and helped you up.
He guided you to the mirror in the middle of the room and stood behind you.
"Is this why you wanted to come home?"
"I see how women stare at you."
"So?"
Bit by bit he removed the sheets off your body, despite your meek struggles to keep it on you.
"They're not you."
He placed his arms around your belly.
"Just look at what you're doing. You're carrying my child. My child, Mi vida. You think I would've picked someone else for this?"
His mouth went to your neck, to plant little kisses along your flesh.
"You think I don't appreciate your body going through such changes to keep my child inside?" He kissed your cheek.
"Mírate, chula." (Look at you, beautiful)
You refused. But patience went both ways in your relationship. His fingers took your chin and pulled it to make you see yourself in the mirror.
"There you go. Wanna know what I see?"
He wiped your eyes and sighed.
"I see my wife. Going through a natural process of change."
His hands roamed your hips.
"These hips are my favorite. You know why?"
Not the littlest idea.
You shook your head.
"Because none can take me like they do. And they will literally stretch away in a way I'm still trying to process, just to get our baby out."
"Anyone whose pregnant can do that"
"Not really. You know how many women go through a C section because they can't push the baby out?"
Fingers wiped the fresh tears from your face again.
"But you, just... How can I not feel marveled at you? Don't take that away from me, Mi amor. Besides, you think I wouldn't find you irresistible just because you're pregnant?"
Your mouth was set in a pout and he chuckled.
"You know how much I want you? God, You're gorgeous, mi reina."
You broke in tears and he held you close, hands caressing gently and dotingly your body, he then kneeled to kiss your belly and then kiss you.
"You gave me hope to have a family again. And that's... something no other woman, but you, have achieved. And I would choose you all over again to do so. Got it?"
You nodded through teary eyes and he laid you down.
"Are you hungry?
"Hmm"
He squeezed you softly and kissed your forehead while chuckling
"Such a silly girl to think you're unworthy, really"
"I love you." You'd mumble as you curled into his chest, his hand caressing your hair.
"I love you too, bonita."
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strawb3rrystar · 2 months
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Hazbin Hotel characters longing for you.
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Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Vox, Valentino, Velvette x GN! Reader
Warnings: Implied breakup, Stalking, Just all around angst
Word count: 600
✰Masterlist
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Charlie will hangout with her friends to get your mind off you. This strategy works for a little while, until she starts to notice small bits of your personality in them. All the little things pile up and it brings down her mood, causing her stay away from her friends as to not get reminded.
"Sorry guys, can't hangout today, not feeling the greatest."
Vaggie will bottle up all her emotions and avoid everyone. But, being all alone causes her to start thinking about you more. All the happy memories you created together. Laughs and smiles shared. Vulnerable venting sessions that ended in cuddles. She won't be able to scrape you from her mind and end up crying angry tears.
"Why... after everything we've been through! Why.. why did you leave me..?"
Angel Dust will probably be too distracted with work to think about you. But of course he misses you and wishes to have you back. If he ever does get time to just sit and think about you, his insecurities will get the best of him and he'll think your better off without him.
"Maybe.. they're better off. More happier without me.."
Husk will drown himself in alcohol like he always does. Silently doing his job. It wasn't much of a change to most of the others. Sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, he'll see your figure. He shivers every time he realizes you're not actually there.
"Must be the alcohol makin' me see shit..."
Sir Pentious will lay awake at night thinking about you. It doesn't help that his eggs will keep bringing stuff up about you. He doesn't want to think about you, but he just can't get you out of his head. He wishes to see you one last time before he lets you go.
"I haven't asked for much. Please, just let me see them again."
Alastor will convince himself that he was perfectly able to go on with his afterlife before he met you, so he can definitely do it after you left. Although, that's a lie, because he misses your presence everyday. Even if he doesn't want to admit it, he goes over your daily schedule before you left in his head and goes to the places you used to frequent.
"I am perfectly capable all on my own."
Lucifer will dream about you every night after you leave. He'll dream about all the good times you had together. Your smile and your laugh. His dreams are so realistic that when he wakes up it takes him a minute to remember you left.
"Right.. they left.. but, my dream was so.. real.."
Adam will kinda stalk you, justifying it as protection. Whenever he sees you hanging out with another angel, though, envy will fill his veins. Even if he knows it's one of your friends, he'll still get jealous.
"You were supposed to hangout with me, not this fucking nobody."
Vox will also very much stalk you with his cameras. Nervously searching his screens whenever you leave your house. He just wants to know where you are, and that you're safe.
"My sweet would never have to worry about their safety again."
Valentino will check your past messages 50 times a day. He's just itching to text you, but if he does you might block him, and then he'll lose your conversations forever. He might throw his phone in frustration.
"God fucking damn it!"
Velvette will regularly check your social media for any updates from you. If you do post something new, expect her to be one of the first to like it.
"@Velvvette liked your post."
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Star's notes -> I've binged Hazbin Hotel like 3 times now OMG
(Requests are open!)
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Taglist -> Join the taglist
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animeshotsh · 3 months
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Devils Touch | Dad!Lucifer x Kid!Reader |
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Summary: Being forced to take pills alongside your mother just seems enough to end in hell...
Warnings: Suicide mentions | Death | Canon Violence| Cursing | Lucifer its a softie | SFW | Reader its between 5-7 | Reader takes the form of a sheep/cat mix | Reader's mom sucks tbh | Maybe platonic!yandere Luci? |
When you opened your eyes everytning was red. Screams and insults filled the air, the smell of blood and other things you could not understand filled your nose making you gag.
"Mom?" You asked to no one, no one took note of you. All you could see were strange creatures, some more human and some more animal.
Tears went down your face, you could remember being forced to take some pills. Your mother crying while she did the same.
Something was wrong, really wrong.
"And what do we have here?" A stranger voice said taking you by the collar, you ended up meeting with sharp red eyes, and that look....it did not mean well.
"L-let me go" you screamed trying to get free from this thing. Reacting out you saw your hands were now black with claws, making your mind quick you attacked that thing.
It let you go with a small "fuck". You took of running, not knowing where to go, but you could hear that thing behind you chasing you.
Taking a quick look behind you ended against something. Looking up someone wearing a white suit with a cane and a hat that had a snake looked to you.
"P-please help me" you tried again "I dont know whats happening I want my mom"
The stranger took you by your arms to inspect you.
Lucifer stood there with no emotion seeing the "x" on your neck. Suicide? He thought seeing the mark. But you were just a kid, with fluffy cat hears and a tail, however your hair was not the one from a cat but the one from a sheep...or a lamb. Two little horns did also appear on top of your head.
He cursed inside his mind. Maybe you were killed, or forced to something. You were too small, your soul did not let out any type of malice besides the "sin" of taking your own life.
He soon saw a Demon coming towards him, most likely looking for you, and with no debout their intentions were not good.
Just one flick of his hand the Demon was gone. You were shaking looking at him and then around you.
Fuck, he wished Charlie was here, he knew she would be able to calm you down.
Taking care of sinners was not his job. His job was to rule hell, but he could not just leave you in here. He was sure you would be dead again in seconds.
Or worse.
"Calm down Kid, im going to take care of you" his voice was as soft as he could. Turning around opening a gold portal to his home "whats your name?"
He nodded once he hear your name, carefully petting your head. He passed by many old photos of his family. A maid appear besides him looking at the sinner in his arms.
"Please, prepare a bath and get some clothes " Lucifer requested passing you to her.
Or well, trying to.
"N-no, I dont want to go with her!" Your hands took an iron grip on his suit.
Lucifer almost panicked at your state but tried to remember what he used to do when Charlie was this young.
"Listen, she is someone good. You will be taken care off. We can have lunch later, and some sweets"
"...chocolate?" You asked with pleading eyes
~☆~☆~☆~
After your bath and food you were in a better mood. Lucifer used this time to show you around the house while asking you different questions to try and know why you had ended in here.
He showed you his ducks collection and almost passed out by how much you loved them. You ignored him as you played with the duck, almost burning the wall with one of them.
Lucifer decided to tired you up and then look up for your mothers soul. If you two died together...then the chances of her being down here were high.
~☆~☆~☆
It was harder than he expected. The sugar from the chocolate gave you so much energy you ended checking every room of the house. Lucifer behind you trying to stop you from getting hurt or from breaking something.
"Catch me if you can!" You joked while he tried to balance two statues.
With a swing of his wings he was able to catch you, rolling down the stairs and laughtning with you. You seemed....happy almost forgetting your situation. To you this could be nothing but a bizarre dream.
~☆~☆~
Once you were tired enough, Lucifer took you to one room. His heart made a flip when you took his arm pulling him close.
But he needed to go and see where your mother's soul was. So he made the maid stay outside your room just in case you woke up.
~☆~☆~
"That fucking bastard, son of a bitch, cursed slut" Lucifer screamed almost burning his office. Turns out, your mother was not in hell or heaven, she was alive, whatever she was triying to do failed for her.
He wanted to go there and kill her himself. Not only her but heaven as well, you were just a kid. Sure, you had cursed, and lied sometimes, he had read your record of sins. But that was not enough to make you end down here.
He knew your faith was sealed. Heaven would never admit they made a mistake or listen to him for starters. He had to calm down and think.
And after some minutes he decided the safest option would be for you to stay with him. He was not sure how he would explain to you who he was or what had happened. But he knew a few things, besides him no one would try to hurt you, and also you made him feel happy again. He could raise you, be a better father, be someone you could relay on.
"Its decided" he said to himself, picking up a pen and a paper, he wrote down your name and his last name. This way the other sins and overlords would know not to mess with you.
"Dont worry (y/n) im going to protect you.
~☆~☆~
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theemissuniverse · 6 months
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ARE THEY SLAPPING YOUR ASS OR ARE THEY KISSING YOUR FOREHEAD? MK MALE CHARACTERS
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SUMMARY : I think the title is self explanatory
A/N: I just thought it was funny lmao
WARNINGS : (MDNI) mentions of intimacy
MASTERLIST
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MORTAL KOMBAT 1 CHARACTERS
Liu Kang is definitely kissing your forehead. He finds the simple kiss to be more intimate than anything. But if you’re into him slapping your ass, he’ll definitely do it. He just doesn’t understand how that’s a sign for affection. (It’s funny because he’s technically an Earthrealmer himself but he still does not understand mortal customs of showing affection.)
Kissing your forehead: “I love you so much, my love.”
Slapping your ass: “You’re playing with fire, love.”
Raiden would very much want to slap your ass but he’s way too shy to do that with you so he’ll settle with kissing your forehead. Raiden has been caught staring at your ass several times and when you point it out to him, he smiles embarrassed and mumbles a “I’m sorry.” It is very rare Raiden will slap your ass and when he does it’s a soft but efficient smack.
Kissing your forehead: “How are you doing, beautiful?”
Slapping your ass: “Okay. I liked doing it. Stop asking me now.”
Johnny Cage is one hundred percent slapping your ass. Without question. 24/7. 365. All day. Every day. It’s literally his sign for affection. He doesn’t have a problem with kissing you on the forehead but that’s when he’s feeling more sappy.
Kissing your forehead: “Aw does my big baby want a kiss?”
Slapping your ass: “Whew! I’m never getting tired of that.”
Kung Lao is hitting you with a combo. He’ll definitely come up to you and give you the biggest kiss on the forehead before then slapping your ass. Sometimes it catches you off guard (even though it really shouldn’t at this point) and he’ll just laugh at you.
Kissing your forehead: “You look so good.”
Slapping your ass: “But this looks even better.”
Kenshi Takahashi is doing both. He loves touching all over your body. (Especially if he is blind.) So, he’ll settle for any type of touch that can show you his affection towards you. He wished he wasn’t blind though so when he does slap your ass he can see the recoil.
Kissing your forehead: “My love is always strong with you.”
Slapping your ass: “You’re so naughty.”
Bi-Han is not a physical person by any means. So, that means he’s really not doing either. If he’s in an emotional mood or if you’re in one, he’ll kiss your head. Sometimes on rare days when Bi-Han is in a playful mood, he’ll slap your ass playfully but he really doesn’t show his love through physical affection.
Kissing your forehead: “Do you need something?”
Slapping your ass: “Don’t get use to that.”
Syzoth does not understand the mortal custom of slapping your ass as a sign of affection but he quickly catches on. In fact, he likes it more than kissing your forehead but he’ll always save room for kissing your forehead. He likes to call them “love taps.”
Kissing your forehead: “What do you want to do today, my love?”
Slapping your ass: “You look so good when you bend over like that.”
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MORTAL KOMBAT 11 CHARACTERS
Shao Kahn is most definitely slapping your ass without question. He loves it. He has to be careful when he does it though because his hands are far bigger than what you’re used to. Sometimes when you’re in an emotional mood, Shao Kahn will kiss you on the forehead but he mostly slaps your ass to show his affection.
Kissing your forehead: “You need to rest, my Empress.”
Slapping your ass: “All of this is mine.”
Hanzo Hasashi doesn’t really get the point of it at first but he does catch on rather quick. He’ll slap it through out the day and kiss your forehead and neck while doing it. But mainly when he does it, he’s trying to get intimate with you.
Kissing your forehead: “Nobody is more gorgeous than you.”
Slapping your ass: “Do you want to take this to the bedroom?”
Nightwolf is kissing your forehead. He doesn’t understand how slapping your ass is a sign of affection in the slightest. In fact, he’ll look at men weird for doing it to their significant others and you can’t help but laugh at his reaction every time. If you like it though, he’ll do it.
Kissing your forehead: “My love.”
Slapping your ass: “I still don’t understand why you’re into that.”
Kano will always do it with no shame. He doesn’t care if you’re in private or around people. He’s doing it. He loves watching you simply bend over and when you bend over, he’s right on top of you. He’ll kiss your forehead when he feels tired or sleepy though.
Kissing your forehead: “Goodmorning, love.”
Slapping your ass: “Damn, baby. Just how I like to start my day.”
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MORTAL KOMBAT X CHARACTERS
Takeda Takahashi mainly likes slapping your ass but he’ll also kiss your forehead. Usually he’s very playful and just slaps it. Sometimes he’ll just slap it out of nowhere which catches you off guard. He’ll kiss your forehead though but it’s like a million kisses on the forehead.
Kissing your forehead: “You’re so pretty.”
Slapping your ass: “I can’t help that it’s staring at me.”
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MORTAL KOMBAT 9 CHARACTERS
Cyrax likes to slap your ass but it’s quick and it’s more of a form of goodbye. But when you’re intimate, be prepared to get it smacked repeatedly. He’ll kiss your forehead as a sorry for maybe how hard he’s smacking it but he really likes to.
Kissing your forehead: “Did I do it too rough?”
Slapping your ass: “God, you look so good.”
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