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#it feels like it's giving me the spring bug
inkskinned · 5 months
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it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)
i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.
i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.
i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.
in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.
i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.
i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.
my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.
i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.
i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.
it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.
almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.
i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.
i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.
write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.
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eiightysixbaby · 7 months
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LEAH may I humbly request Eddie and best friend!Reader play wrestling and Reader pins him to the ground and boom ✨making out✨?
xoxo @munson-blurbs 💚
my requests are ALWAYS open for you, bug.
“I just don’t know where Carver gets off being such a dick to everyone,” Eddie scoffs. “I’d love to teach him a lesson, kick his stupid teeth in.”
You giggle. It’s not really a laughing matter, but you giggle.
Eddie cocks an eyebrow, giving you a sideways glance as he unlocks the door to the trailer. “What’s so funny, sweetheart?”
He toes off his sneakers in the entryway, awaiting your answer as you take your time untying your own, trying to avoid the answer.
“Listen, you know you’re my best friend, right? Okay?” you start, peaking Eddie’s curiosity even more. “I’m not saying you couldn’t kick Carver’s ass, but…. I don’t know! I just don’t view you as particularly ‘tough’,” you say, shrugging your shoulders as you walk over to the couch.
Eddie just looks at you, eyebrows hidden under his bangs as he lifts them.
“Don’t get offended! You just… you’re always so gentle around me,” you quickly add, attempting to soften the blow to his ego.
“Oh no, sweetheart, I think you’ve made it verryyyy clear that I can’t throw a punch,” Eddie replies, holding his hands up. “I get it, really,” he sighs dramatically, leaning against the kitchen counter.
“Don’t start,” you laugh, pointing a finger at him.
“I suppose you could take me then? You could kick my ass?” he goes on, gesturing towards himself with one hand.
“I could absolutely take you in a fight. You wouldn’t dare throw a punch at me,” you say matter-of-factly, and of course you’re correct.
“Okay, sure. You could take me,” he says, too compliant to be believable. He slowly steps towards the couch, drawing out his movements. You eye him suspiciously as he sits down on the opposite end of the furniture. “But could you fight back against… the tickle monster?”
And in one swift movement, before you can even comprehend, he’s right beside you, hands reaching for your sides as his fingers hit your most ticklish spot.
“No! Eddie!!” you squeal, laughing against your own will, body coiling into itself as he relentlessly attacks you.
You feel like you can’t catch your breath, laughter roaring through you as tears spring to your eyes. He’s stronger than you, keeping you curled beneath him, fingers digging into your sides. He laughs along with you, and the sound infiltrates your ears, making your heart strum a tune. If your stomach wasn’t hurting from laughter, you wouldn’t want him to stop. Wouldn’t want him to get any farther away.
There’s a brief moment where he eases up, if you’d blinked you’d have missed it, but luckily you didn’t. You see your opportunity, shoving him off of you with your hands, making a break for it as you pounce off of the sofa.
He’s quicker, though, recovering from your shove and lunging after you, picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder.
“You dare think you can outsmart me!?” he roars, putting on his best monster voice.
You kick and flail, smiling so wide your cheeks hurt as you pound on his back to let you go. If you think too long about the way he’s holding onto you you’re sure to melt. He walks you into his bedroom, throwing you down on his fluffy mattress before completely pinning you there, triumphant.
“You’re not trying very hard, sweet girl,” he teases, smirking at the way you struggle to free your wrists from his grip.
“Shut up,” you mumble, scrunching up your face when Eddie’s hair tickles your nose.
You wrestle out of his grasp finally, thrashing around in an attempt to move him from where he hovers above you. You manage to topple him over, newfound strength taking over as you pin him down, pressing his shoulders against the mattress. You sling a leg over his lap, straddling him and keeping him in place.
He’s wide-eyed at your sudden burst of ferocity, mouth parted just slightly as he catches his breath.
“See? Told you I could kick your ass,” you say, smug and confident.
Eddie doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at you — those big eyes staring through to your soul. Your breath catches in your throat, then, becoming all too aware of the position that you’re in. It feels like you sit there staring at each other for eons, listening to the clock tick from his bedside table.
Then, he moves his hands. Slowly, tentatively, letting them rest on your hips. Holding you where you are, not wanting you to move.
“Eddie—” you start, your voice failing you, coming out incredibly breathy.
“Can I kiss you?” he interrupts, getting the words out quickly, as if they were begging to be let loose.
“Yeah,” you nod.
He’s pulling your face down, then, and you follow his guidance. Your lips collide against his, his tongue immediately parting them for entrance. There’s no room to be timid, not with the way he kisses you like it’s his dying wish. Your heart pounds in your chest, because you’re kissing your best friend. Does he know how badly you’ve wanted this? Has he felt the same this entire time?
Clearly he has, with the way he whimpers into you when your tongue starts to explore his mouth. His hands don’t let go of your cheeks, big palms encompassing your soft skin, thumbs rubbing softly against your cheekbones. And suddenly you feel like you can’t be close enough to him, like your chest being pressed to his and your tongues in each others’ throats simply isn’t enough and you need to crawl inside of his skin and reside there.
You pull away all too soon, just slightly, reluctantly. He still holds your face, wanting to pull you right back to him, his eyes searching yours. So impossibly beautiful.
“You keep kissing me like that, and I won’t tell a soul that I totally just kicked your ass,” you tease, making him snort, his kiss-bitten lips mere millimeters from your own.
Another firm kiss to your mouth, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip until a breathy moan releases from you. “Okay, deal.”
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
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some times i see people talking about the Earth and climate change saying things like "now i know it is difficult to deal with utter hopelessness, terror, and visiting the thoughts of death"
and it's like wow I am so deeply sorry about the suffering. but...concern. Concern. Tell me, am I missing something important? Why do I feel a sense of hope for our planet? Am I a lonely fool? Have I been consumed by naïveté and misguided optimism?
That would be weird. It feels weird. It feels like I would be well suited to despair. My natural temperament is Mortal Terror making my body crushed for a thousand years at the bottom of the deepest trenches of the ocean. I've thought before "I can't live any more. This exceeds the tensile strength of the human spirit."
And then? After irreversible catastrophic failure of the soul, there is...what?
We try to imagine the future where we fight to save our home and it is very painful. The resistance feels so small and the machine of death feels so vast. But something's missing.
Everyone else is missing—the plants, trees, bugs, beasts, and creatures. Hello? Are the other humans seeing this? Nature wants you to know that she is not a princess in a tower. Look! Look at the chaos moving through every cell! Iterating! Adapting! Becoming! Thriving! Watch the pollinators tirelessly at work, observe the mycorrhizal network in the forest floor distributing the rich fruits of decay and photosynthesis for every inhabitant! Pay attention! We belong here too. They feed and shelter us, give us the very air we breathe, and in return we plant and propagate, cull, thin, and burn, shape, trample, till, shepherd and sprout seeds. Our species can look toward the future, to the world of our descendants. We can call every plant and animal by name and teach our children to use and care for them responsibly. We can feel this anger, pain, and grief on behalf of the family of Life, OUR family, and we can love the smallest beetle and the humblest moss.
Look at it! This thing is nothing like me, it does not benefit me, it has no use or purpose for me, but LOOK at it! Look at its intricate structure! Look at the marvelousness of its behaviors and biological functions! Look at its uniqueness throughout the whole universe! Look at it, and see its infinite value!
I saved a baby tree from the scorching hot gravel of a parking lot. I watched it grow and thrive in the hands of its caretaker. Many more followed, trees and herbs and flowers, rescued and carefully placed in cups and old tubs that once held yogurt and sour cream. This is so strange, I thought. They're everywhere, offering themselves for free, and no one thinks to take them. Everyone thinks transplanting a tree is hard and that nothing grows on the edge of the pavement but weeds. But it's so easy??? This is weird. Plant Nurseries Hate Her: Get Free Plants With This One Weird Trick.
I protected an old barren garden patch where nothing had thrived from being mowed and weed-whacked, and transplanted little plants that I found. I marveled at the bees that came. Chicory bloomed, then asters and goldenrod. I shed actual tears over a spicebush swallowtail. I ordered some milkweed from the internet, and the monarchs came for them. Less then twenty-five bucks for a divine experience like this. Wow, everyone else really needs to know!
I started volunteering at a nature center, and was allowed to transplant flowers where they sprouted in inopportune locations. I collected tons of seeds all fall and winter long.
There is much, much more, all of it bigger than I ever would have imagined. But this spring there were more birds, in number and in species, than I'd ever seen in my back yard before. Chickadees, swallows, finches, nuthatches, jays, cardinals, warblers, sparrows, woodpeckers of every kind...I remembered just a couple years prior when all I ever saw out there was a couple grackles or starlings or robins, with the occasional sparrow. Those birds come in flocks rather than couples now. And then the bumblebee arrived. An American bumblebee, endangered now, a queen. For a few days she was always out there, would fly out and buzz around me when I came out to tend to my now-innumerable plants. It's nesting time for them. She chose this place I was creating. She saw that this place would take care of her.
A week ago, I discovered wild strawberries growing in my Mamaw's driveway. I found lyreleaf sage growing beside a gravel road. I've become a master of transplanting; I took several of each home. Yesterday, I saw a tiny, metallic blue bee, an Osmia mason bee. Today, I saw an oriole and a strange, very fancy fly. I see something new almost every day. Every day I am being irreversibly changed as a person. How did I ever fail to see how much this matters?
I said I feel hope...do I feel it? I don't think it's a feeling, I think it's a practice. It's being part of our communities and our ecosystems. Nature's interconnectedness is both reality and example: to survive, we take care of one another. And when one member of the community helps another thrive, it creates a cascade that increases the thriving of all. Just by existing, you help us all survive.
You can only take care of so many plants before you have to give some away. You can only hold so much knowledge before you have to give it away. I gave seeds to a dozen different flowers to my next-door neighbor and she invited me inside and wouldn't let me leave without food, and we talked about plants and trees. A family friend lets me have goats' milk and heirloom vegetables in exchange for help around the farm, and I listen to him talk about trees, bugs, and soil and learn so much I feel like I'm about to explode from knowledge.
Being a caretaker is unavoidably a community-oriented, community-forming thing. You can't grow plants all by yourself. Your garden will make too many tomatoes. Share them. Your milkweed will make hundreds and hundreds of seeds. Spread them. Wild blackberries invite you to take and eat. Your lonely retired neighbor invites you to talk and keep her company. Once you grow delicious fruits or little oak trees, you always have a reason to greet someone and say, "Look, it is a gift!"
We're not alone. We are not separate. We take care of each other. Every species, every individual. A single action of caretaking creates a cascade effect of thriving. A single unapologetic love for a creature creates a blossom of curiosity and fascination in everyone surrounding. It's so powerful.
As my chemical romance says "I am not afraid to keep on living"
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yandere-romanticaa · 7 days
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Recently, the surge of AI has caught everyone's attention and I've been working on this little experiment.
Down below the cut are two fics and this is how I planned it - one was made up by using AI (more specifically, Chat Gpt) while the other one was written by yours truly. Below both fics will be a poll and I would like for you, my dear readers, to guess which one was AI. Personally, I don't think it'll be a difficult challenge but seeing your reactions and comments on this should prove to be an interesting endeavor.
This was posted on April 17th. And, in 7 days, I shall reveal which fic was written by me, and which one was done by AI.
Now then, let's get on with the show.
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🥀 Story One.
In the dimly lit alleyways of Yokohama, Fyodor Dostoevsky stalks his obsession, (y/n), with unwavering determination. His fixation transcends reason, driving him to extreme lengths to possess (y/n)'s affection.
Fyodor's obsession with (y/n) began innocently enough, a mere curiosity sparked by their untapped potential and innocence. But as time passed, that curiosity twisted into an all-consuming desire, festering within Fyodor's mind like a venomous serpent.
Each night, Fyodor would follow (y/n) from a distance, his heart pounding with anticipation and longing. He would watch as (y/n) laughed with their friends, oblivious to the dark presence lurking in the shadows.
But Fyodor's love was not the gentle, nurturing kind. It was possessive, suffocating, and dangerously obsessive. He couldn't bear the thought of (y/n) belonging to anyone but him, couldn't stand the idea of anyone else basking in the warmth of (y/n)'s smile.
As his obsession deepened, Fyodor's mind became consumed with dark fantasies of possessing (y/n) completely. He would spend hours meticulously planning every detail of their future together, envisioning a life where they were inseparable.
But fantasies were not enough for Fyodor. He needed to make them a reality, no matter the cost. And so, he began to weave a web of deception and manipulation, carefully orchestrating events to bring (y/n) closer to him and drive away anyone who dared to stand in their way.
But as Fyodor's plans grew more elaborate, so too did the danger. (y/n)'s friends grew suspicious of Fyodor's intentions, sensing something sinister lurking beneath his charming facade. And as they delved deeper into Fyodor's past, they uncovered secrets that threatened to unravel his carefully constructed world.
But Fyodor was not about to let anyone come between him and his beloved. He would do whatever it took to protect their love, even if it meant resorting to violence.
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🥀 Story Two.
Shimmering waves of starlight engulfed the man in white as he monitored his target from a safe distance, hollow purple eyes gleaming with excitement. He could feel his long fingers twitching with anticipation in his warm pockets, a stark contrast to the chilly wind on this fine spring evening.
He needed to be patient. Because patience was indeed, a virtue.
And Fyodor was a virtuous man. Perhaps not a good one, but he would gladly take the title of virtue.
Would you bestow upon him such a title? Would you do so, if you ever found out that he had taken such a keen interest in you? The rational part in his mind said no, of course not. Unlike him, you were blessed with normalcy. There was nothing extraordinary about you - no ability, no wealth, no status.
Nothing.
You could have been squished like a bug beneath his heel and the world would just keep on going as it always would. Sure, there would be some individuals who would miss you dearly but even they would move on at some point.
Such was the nature of humanity. How cruel, he thought to himself.
Fortunately for you, Fyodor was no ordinary man. Despite his predicament, he had grown fond of you. He was not sure why but after a while, he stopped asking such trifling questions as to why he troubled himself by giving you so much attention.
It was pointless to make sense of the senseless.
Right here, right now, all he wanted was to enjoy this quiet evening by his lonesome, as he tailed behind you like a creeping shadow. He would reveal himself to you properly when the time was right, when he felt you were strong enough to take him.
Fyodor just needed to wait a little bit longer, just long enough to see how he should proceed with you in case things went south.
In the meantime, he would gladly spend every waking moment simply watching you for his own personal pleasure.
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🥀 TAGS: @yanroma, @oneoftheprettynerds, @misdollface, @sxy0ung, @rosemary108233, @c4xcocoa, @gettinshiggywithit, @ophticcus, @lakxcpsta, @ranposgirlboss, @robinaxolotl, @acornwinter, @enoojnij, @ishqani, @osachiyo, @bluepeanutharmony, @kaithegremlin, @fyodorscockslut, @wcayaw, @luna-mariko-akatsuki, @lovelyyz, @queenofspades403
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APRIL 24TH - Story One is AI.
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gr1mstar · 3 months
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Timeless lover
notes: i don’t know why but tumblr is just annoying. when i try to edit things they disappear and just… the algorithm is shit. i thought i’m shadowbanned but i don’t think so anymore. whatever, i hope things get better.
content: sukuna ryoman x f!reader, reincarnation, past lovers, curse words (not a lot of them), sfw, human sukuna (from that time when he was actually human), flashbacks, lovers to strangers, mentions of death, sick reader (in the past), sorcerer reader (present time), sukuna has sentiments?, sukuna is soft for reader, past sukuna looks kinda like itadori yuji, not the same tho, but very similar, mention of pills, slightly an au because sukuna will never be this nice, reader is older than yuji but sukuna is older? that makes sense? mentions of blood.
word count: 1.9k
i also have an official masterlist, so check it out here
also now we have a part 2 - here
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all your life you felt a very strong sensation of deja vu that you could not explain. you tried meditation, yoga, different activities you thought you were never able to do - but the feeling was still there. so you had to live with it, even though it bugged you every day.
“remember me, because i will never stop searching for you.”
after you discovered you were a jujutsu sorcerer a few years back, you thought that all the things finally were in their place, but you were wrong. after you discovered the world of curses, you started having dreams.
"nightmares" you would tell other people when they asked, but for you, they were never nightmares. a nightmare was supposed to describe an ugly monster, someone evil with blood thirst, so why were you dreaming about a charming man with a beautiful smile and enchanting red eyes?
at first, these dreams were strange, short, and out of context, but then they started to take shape, lasting longer, and having a coherent narrative thread. but you still haven't managed to figure out who that man was. it was strange really, dreaming about someone you hadn’t even met before. you felt a connection with him, your heart telling you that you have to be close to him, but your mind was telling you to run.
you thought you were going crazy at some point. you remembered every single detail from every single dream, but deep down you enjoyed your little “nightmares”, because unconsciously you were waiting for your man with red eyes. you were waiting for him to come back to you, even though you never met him. 
they were different every time, the dreams. but one thing was the same in all of them. 
him.
the eyes that looked at you lovingly, his soft voice when he was speaking with you, a hand over your waist just to keep you close. you never knew his real name, always calling him nicknames and him calling you ‘princess’.
“kuna, come here!” you shouted, making a hand gesture at the man. he smiled when looking at you, making his way over. 
he took a seat beside you, under the cherry blossom tree. the spring season just started and the scenery looked breathtaking. blue clear sky, pink petals, and red, beautiful eyes.
“why are you here so early, princess? you were supposed to rest,” he stated, his hand making his way to your hand, playing with your delicate fingers. you could see he was concerned.
but why? you did not remember. that was the moment you woke up and that was all you recalled. but now, every time you saw a cherry blossom tree you thought about the sweet dream you had.
“kuna, you think we will be together forever?” you recalled telling him one day when the two of you were cuddling under the well-known tree. he was reading a book with one hand, the other playing with your hair.
“i’m sure, princess, that we will. i’ll make sure of that” was his reply, smiling sweetly at you.
“they don’t give me that much time, though.”
you were slowly dying, or better said, your dream version was. the few dreams you had about this were very sad and painful, a strong feeling of recognition being present in your gut. 
“when i’m no more, please take good care of yourself.” 
the dreams started being more unsettling, more dark, and very apathetic. you started taking pills just to be able to sleep a few hours a day, but after some time you stopped taking them, not working anymore.
and so when gojo satoru asked for your help regarding a cursed object, you agreed.
‘maybe working hard on this boring thing will make me sleepy enough.’ you thought on your way to tokyo, ready to help the handsome sorcerer who proposed the mission. it was not your cup of tea, but knowing him, he would never shut up about that and in the end, you would still help him.
“you remember the first time we met?” he asked, taking a small piece of your hair in his hands, and proceeding to kiss it a moment after. 
“you mean the time when you almost killed me?”
“fuck, you know i regret that princess.” he hissed, leaning forward to brush a flower petal that was stuck in your hair clip. “just pretend that was not the first time we met.” he continued, looking away.
you giggled softly, taking his big hands into your cold ones. it was summer now, but you were getting colder as the days went by. you lover was concerned, but he had enough hope that a miracle would happen and make you healthy again.
you never believed in hope.
“how can i do that, my love? that was the time i fell in love with you.” was your response, now your turn to kiss his knuckles. 
“i still find myself asking how such a wonderful person as you fell in love with a crazy and broken person like me.” the red-eyed stranger muttered, letting his head rest on yours.
“maybe because i’m too, crazy and broken.”
as you walked your way to jujutsu high, a school that took you under their wing to teach you how to control your power, memories started flowing inside of your head. unfortunately, you had to move right after graduating and never had the time to stay in touch with your childhood friends: shoko, satoru, and… suguru.
you felt bad for what happened because you weren’t there for them and chose to leave them behind when they needed someone to cry to. you would never forgive yourself for that.
“yo, [name]. long time no see.” a white hair shouted in your direction.
“indeed, gojo. i would say i missed your crackhead ass, but i would be lying,” you responded to your long friend, making your way to him to hug him. letting his infinity down, he took you into his arms, spinning you a few times,
“relentless as usual, it's good to know that you haven't changed at all” he added, putting your weight down back on the drown. “still having problems with sleep?”
“yeah. stopped taking the pills too, made the dreams worse.”
“tell shoko that, she started having the same problem.” was his response, but he continued, never letting you adventuring further into the conversation. “let’s go to yaga, i’m sure he is waiting for us. also, you need to meet megumi, he heard a lot about you.”
“i hope good things-” you asked, but seeing gojo’s face making a grin you let out an annoyed sigh, “satoru!”
“good things, very good things. the only thing i told him was that you were in love with sakura flowers.” he laughed.
“you look so funny, ‘kuna” you giggled, eyeing the handsome man in front of you.
“you and your damn flowers, my love. when did you have time for this?” ‘kuna asked, taking his flower crown from his head and putting it on his lap.
“last night. i thought about your pretty pinkish hair and how the sakura flowers would look through it.” was your answer, making your way to steal a kiss from him.
”i wish i could look at this every day and night.” you continued, looking at his frame with admiration and affection.
“be my wife” 
“what?”
“be my wife. fuck it, no. be my queen,” he repeated himself, placing the flower crown that stood on his lap onto your hair. he made you speechless. his what?
the high school was packed with kids, remembering you about your childhood before becoming a full-time sorcerer. you and megumi had the task to identify where the cursed object was and bring it back to the principal. simple as that, right?
“fucking hell, where the fuck is this thing?”
it was not simple. not at all. you spent almost all day looking for what? a finger? you regretted coming back to tokyo now. 
“cheer up. we will find it.” megumi comforted you, giving you a soft look. he was right, you just needed to look a bit more.
“i don’t want to die” you confessed, looking down at your bloody hands.
deadly. you had a deadly sickness. 
the cough you've had all your life suddenly got worse one day, and now, standing in your childhood bed full of blood you coughed up a few minutes ago, you could tell that it was not a pleasant sight at all.
you wanted your last moments to be at the cherry blossom tree, with your lover, watching over the moon at peace, not in your blood-covered bed surrounded by doctors and crying women.
‘please, god. give me strength to remain alive just enough to see my lover again. the beautiful man i fell in love with.” you prayed, closing your eyes and letting a tear glide down on your cold cheek. 
the situation was very fucked up, the curses were everywhere and you and megumi had no idea where the cursed object was anymore. 
earlier, you two met yuji itadori, a high school kid able to see curses, but now you did not know where he was either. you and megumi were separated and even though you searched for him you could find him anywhere. 
‘maybe the roof?” 
and so you got there, and oh man, you did not like the view. a gigantic, ugly-looking curse and yuji, in between his fingers. that was a moment your heart stopped for a minute, looking for megumi a few seconds later.
“megumi. where is the finger?”
“yuji. he has it” and at that moment, you saw something that you were never imagining to witness. 
yuji ate the fucking cursed finger.
“sukuna” your voice was low, almost like a whisper.
“princess. what in the world happened? how? i-”
“no. ‘kuna, let me say goodbye-” you wanted to tell him, but the red-eye man in front of you interrupted you harshly, taking your cold hand in his warm one, giving it a lovely squeeze.
“no. i’m not going to accept that. what goodbye, my princess? you would not die.” he started lying to himself, almost too afraid to accept the situation.
“it’s not something new, sukuna. i knew this would happen eventually… so i’m not surprised. but i wish, for one thing, my love. please, let me wish for just one thing.”
there was a silence. now, in the peace of the night with your lover, you were obligated to give your last breath, and so you wanted no regrets.
“i love you. i will always love you and i will be born again. i know it’s selfish for me to ask this, god please forgive me, but i wish to be selfish one time in my life.”
the moon was shining bright on the black sky, and the stars were screening for another sister, ready to give her a peaceful death.
 “sukuna… let me be your queen in my next life.”
looking now at the man in front of you, you could see a familiarity that yuji didn’t have before. yuji was yuji, but the yuji in front of you, even though he looked like himself, was not the high school boy you met earlier in the day.
red eyes. 
the red eyes looked at yours with a familiar feeling, as if he already knew your eyes and had already looked into them a million times by now. the same eyes ‘he’ looked at you on your deathbed.
“sukuna”
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the pictures were taken from pinterest
© 2024 gr1mstar — all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, translate, or claim my content as yours.
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minkdelovely · 1 month
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homebodies
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Alastor x GN!Reader
tags: domestic!alastor, fluff, established relationship, alcohol consumption, not “explicit” but as a general rule MDNI 18+
word count: 1.2k
author’s note: more self-indulgence. just a little something that’s been on my mind since i watched ‘casablanca’ over the weekend. i tried my best not to get too ooc, but idk - i feel like under the right circumstance, alastor has great potential for coziness. here’s looking at you, kid.
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Tonight was the night. The decision was made a week ago and there was no way you would be backing down.
You didn’t know why you had gotten the urge one day, but once it was there you were determined on getting an antique TV. It had taken visiting several antique shoppes throughout Cannibal Town, but you had managed to find one: a 1949 Packard Bell television (or possibly Hell’s greatest dupe) that was in beautiful shape.
It had been so exciting rearranging your furniture to make room for it, and you set it up to play some of the movies you had also found. The perfect cozy piece that had been missing from the lounge area in your suite. You loved how it looked with the rest of your things, fitting in seamlessly with some of your other antique finds; the morning glory gramophone being one of yours and Alastor’s favorites.
Thinking of him, you began to feel a little nervous about your impulse buy. You knew how he felt about modern technology but… would a TV from 1949 really count? If the concern was Vox, surely the Vees wouldn’t be interested in bugging this old thing?
Uncertainty won out, and you decided to conceal it with a scalloped, ivory tablecloth, placing a vase of flowers on top to complete the transformation. Just until you could work up the courage to show it to him.
You had given yourself a week, and it was finally time. It had been all planned out, from what you’d be having for dinner to the movie you would ask him to watch. The two of you had a long-standing routine of staying in on Friday nights, with activities ranging from you each settling down with a book to dancing in the lounge all while the radio played. Needless to say, it had been a long time since you had felt so nervous about him coming over. What if he really hated it? Or worse… thought it was silly?
A distinct rapping at the door interrupted your spiral, Alastor peaking his head in before fully entering your suite. Despite the number of times you had told him he didn’t need to, the knocking was a habit he refused to give up. Tonight you were grateful, as it gave you the slightest bit of warning to pull yourself together before you hurried to greet him.
He was already removing his coat by the time you reached him, and he kissed your hand in greeting when you tried to take it. A gesture that still left you with butterflies.
“Evening, dearest. Tonight couldn’t have come soon enough, I’ve been looking forward to it for days,” he sighed, finally allowing you to take his coat as he loosened his bow tie with a tug of his fingers.
You would never get used to seeing him be so relaxed around you. He was always so composed and properly dressed that the moments in which he was casual were precious to you, like a secret.
“I know, you’ve been busy this week,” you commiserated, already reconsidering your plan of action as you put the coat away. It was rare that he was tired like this. “What would you like to drink? I’ll get it for you.”
Maybe this isn’t be the best time to try and spring something new on him, you thought as he took a seat at the small table in your makeshift dining area.
“Surprise me,” he said, resting his head in his hand. His eyes trailed you as you made your way to the bar cart, the lazy smile on his face making your heart jump.
Husker had recently taught you how to make a few cocktails, the Negroni turning out to be a surprise favorite. You made two and set his glass down in front of him, exchanging a silent cheers before taking a sip.
Dinner went off without a hitch, and you took turns catching each other up with superfluous details of the week now that you finally had the time. It was during all of this that you worked up your courage to stick to the plan. Maybe a movie might be a nice distraction?
“I bought something last week that I’ve been meaning to show you,” you said, fiddling with your glass.
He raised a brow and hummed. “And why the wait?”
“I was nervous at first, how you’d react to it — it’s nothing bad!” you added quickly, seeing the look on his face. His imagination could be the worst sometimes. “Just… unexpected? I bought a TV from 1949. It’s been hiding in the lounge.”
Alastor turned to look and you got up to remove its disguise. Seeing it for the first time since covering it, you fell in love all over again. It really did fit your space so perfectly.
“It’s not… terrible,” he conceded, standing over it with a suspicious air. “It doesn’t stick out, at least. And you intend to watch it, I presume?”
Here goes nothing.
“I do,” you said, not as confidently as you’d have liked. “I, um… I was actually wondering if you wanted to watch a movie with me? It’s from 1942.”
“You don’t have to keep telling me which years they’re from, dearest,” he sighed, taking a seat on the couch. “But first, I’d like another drink.”
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“I’d like to think that you killed a man. It’s the romantic in me,” Louis said from the television, and to your surprise Alastor chuckled. Was he… enjoying this? You couldn’t help but dare take a peak, and the relaxed smile you found nearly killed you.
He was actually watching it! This was a victory you’d soon not forget.
You started to covertly look over at him as the movie moved along, curious to see which parts of it he reacted to. He was so absorbed that you were able to get away with it for nearly half the movie.
Alastor nearly caught you when the Paris flashback was over, giving you an unmistakable ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ look. You couldn’t help but laugh, and he soon joined in.
You picked up on moments here and there throughout the rest of it, mostly when involving Rick and Louis. And he really enjoyed when Victor began to sing La Marseillaise, singing along with just as much passion. Laughing when Ilsa pulled a gun on Rick, disappointed when she didn’t follow through.
Before you knew it, Rick and Louis were walking off into the proverbial sunset and the movie was over.
“I wouldn’t mind if you ever wanted to watch that again,” he said, looking down at you. You had been inching closer and closer to him throughout the movie, until he tucked you under his arm.
“Really? I’m so glad you liked it!” You couldn’t fight the smile on your face. This had gone so much better than expected, and you were just so happy. “Can I kiss you?” you asked, barely above a whisper.
“Goodness, so well-mannered tonight,” he teased with a laugh, voice low and eyes heavy. “I suppose, since you asked so nicely.”
The kiss had started chaste enough, before he said he wanted ‘payback’.
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tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco
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somanyratsinthewalls · 5 months
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A Little Funny Business (+18)
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Pairing: Buggy x Afab!Reader
WC: 3760
Summary: As a Warlord, you’re always being invited to prestigious Marine Events. With your insatiable sexual appetite, you use these events as a hunting ground for your next prey, and tonight you’re feeling a bit… silly. 
Warnings: Bisexual cunty BFF Mihawk, Alcohol consumption, Face Sitting (HONK), Oral Sex (m and f receiving), Inappropriate use of Devil Fruit Powers, nervous Bugs, Missionary, unprotected sex (bad idea!), cream pie (worse idea!), spitting, multiple orgasms, porn with a lot of plot for no reason. 
*authors note* I saw someone ask a few weeks ago for more fics about Buggy being a huge loser and I was a little inspired by that LOL he's such a dork wow
MINORS DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED
——
“And why do I need to come to this again? I have much better things to be doing than rubbing elbows with those fools.” Dracule ‘Hawkeye’ Mihawk was lounging in your parlor chair with his  boots kicked up on the glass coffee table, the large glass of red wine you had offered him swirling in his hand. He was your best… friend? As a fearsome pirate, no one had friends, per se, but he was probably the closest thing you had other than your own crew. 
“Because…” You emphasize while you throw on one of your dresses from behind your changing curtain. “I’m in the mood for a romp and if I can’t find someone I think can satisfy me tonight, I might as well bring along ole reliable.” You peek over the top of the curtain and shoot him a wink. Over the years you’ve known each other, you and Mihawk realized that you have incredible sexual compatibility but the thought of being in a committed relationship repulsed you both. 
Mihawk rolls his eyes at you. 
“For future reference, it’s not sexy to tell a man that he’s your second choice.” He smirked as he sipped his wine. He was indifferent, he just liked to poke fun at you. “So who do you have your eyes on, then? Another Admiral?” He teased.
You scoff as you exit the curtain in a red plunging, halter, backless gown with a slit up nearly to your hip. “After Aokiji? No way. His hands were so cold I felt like I was the the doctor’s office.” You give Mihawk a twirl, gesticulating at your dress. “Thoughts?” 
Mihawk takes another sip of his wine. 
“You look like a whore.” He smiles slightly and quirks up an eyebrow at your body. You turn around to face yourself in the mirror. You grin. 
“Perfect.”
— — 
Upon docking your ship at the upper-class Marine town where the ball was being held, you slipped on your jacket and heels and made your way to the banquet hall. You made sure to arrive fashionably late, to make your presence known once most of the attendees have already gotten comfortable in their cups. 
“Miss Y/n, I can take your coat, please allow me.” A dinky little pink-haired Marine Cadet gently shuffled your coat off your now bare shoulders. 
“Aren’t you cute, thank you dear. Keep it warm for me, hey?” With a wink you slipped a one-thousand berry note into his uniform pocket. 
“Y-y-y-yes! Of course, Miss! M-m-my pleasure!” The young cadet sputters out while hurrying off to hang your coat. 
You square your shoulders as you saunter into the extravagant banquet hall filled with important men and women. The hall had vaulted ceilings with beautiful skylights and the walls were adorned with gold appliqué and candelabras. You feel the eyes of many on you as you stroll towards the bar. 
“A gin martini please, up, extra dirty.” The bartender nods at you and begins mixing your cocktail. You reach into your purse for your pocket mirror and lipstick and reapply the gorgeous shade of red that matches your dress. After stowing your cosmetics, your drink was ready so you reach out and touch the martini glass. 
“Really? The Marines can’t even spring for chilled glasses?” You furrow your brow at how cheap the government organization had gotten lately. You hear a low chuckle from the man next to you. 
“Allow me.” You hear him say. Suddenly, as if by magic, a frost of ice begins to form from the bottom of your glass to the very top. Realizing who was standing beside you at the bar, you smile. 
“I wondered where you’d made off to. You never called me back, you know.” Admiral Aokiji looks down at you. 
“I do know. It’s nothing personal, Admiral, but keep frosting these glasses for me and I might just change my mind.” You wink and stroll back to the rest of the party with your drink. 
After scanning the crowd you see Mihawk seated at a table with a few others. He was hard to miss… he just had to bring that eyesore of a weapon everywhere. You take the seat next to him and put your drink on the table. 
“I miss anything good yet? Did the fishmen get here? They always make it weird.” You question Mihawk. 
“No, painfully boring as expected.” Mihawk swigs from his drink. “At least it’s an open bar. Have you found your ‘soup of the day’ yet?” He inquires about your hunt for your next sexual conquest. You laugh out loud at his phrasing. 
“Hah! Not yet. Old man Garp looks kind of nice lately though…” You say looking over your left shoulder at the vice-admiral who was paying attention only to the roving stewards with trays of meat-heavy appetizers. Mihawk crinkles up his nose slightly. 
“He looks like he bites. Not in a good way.” The two of you make eye contact then snort into your drinks trying to hold in your laughter. 
“Ah, my friends! What a pleasure to see you both!” A booming voice caused both you and Mihawk to turn around in your chairs. A massively tall, blonde, sunglasses-clad man was sidling your way. 
“Oh gods, why him? I thought for sure he wouldn’t make it…” Mihawk whispers as he takes a huge gulp of his drink. 
“Ugh.” You turn back towards the table, hoping he would just go away. 
“Is that any way to greet an old pal?” DonQuixote Doflamingo laughs as he muscles his way in-between the two of you. 
“Doflamingo.” You beam up at him with the fakest smile you could muster. You extend a limp hand which he takes in his much larger one. He licks his lips before he kisses it. “Couldn’t be bothered leaving that gaudy thing at the coat check?” You nod your chin towards his ridiculous hot pink jacket. Doflamingo chortles. 
“Always such a charmer, y/n. What does a King have to do for you to join them in his bedchambers tonight?” He licks his lips again. Still smiling at him widely, you respond. 
“When I say that I would rather cover a sea cucumber in sandpaper and-“
Doflamingo leans over you, trying to intimidate you. 
“You’re rejecting me? You must think I won’t kill every single one in here and then-“ 
Mihawk rises and pushes a hand against Doflamingo’s massive chest. 
“Wait until she has a few more martinis. She’s much more… adventurous. Speaking from experience… friend.” Mihawk dispels the situation with ease. Doflamingo huffs and heads off to converse with some Marine Higher-Ups. 
“He’s going to actually kill you one day, you know.” 
“I’d rather fight him than fuck him. He’s insufferable and you know it. Fucking bird brain.” You snap at Mihawk as you take the last sip of your drink. You notice Mihawk’s drink is empty as well. “Get me another drink, will you love?” You smile sweetly at the swordsman. 
“You’re lucky I can’t say no to you.” Mihawk grabs your empty glasses and leaves for the bar. You take this opportunity to scan the ballroom for potential lovers or anyone interesting enough to even have a conversation with. You were starting to regret even coming… when you overhear two marine captains chatting near you.  
“Who invited that guy?”
“Bro he’s a warlord now, can you believe that?”
“No way… he’s so… lame?”
This piqued your interest. You looked in the direction they were gesturing in. There was a man who had just arrived at the event, one you had yet to meet in person. This gentleman was wearing a slightly dirty orange fur jacket with a matching giant, orange pirate hat adorned with blue and green. What you noticed immediately, though, was his large, round, red nose. 
“Buggy the clown, nice to meet ya. It’s me, Buggy, the clown. The Genius Jester, Buggy the Clown, yes that’s me. Captain Buggy, pleasure to meet ya.” The silly looking man was shaking hands like he was running for office. It was corny and he was clearly out of place. You found yourself smiling at his awkward behavior. After pandering to the crowd, the clown eventually seated himself at a table across the room with a glass of whiskey. 
“Your martini, my lady, just the way you like it.” Mihawk returns with a new martini for you, unfortunately not chilled. 
“Thanks. Say, what do you know about the circus guy?” You nod in Buggy’s direction.
“Oh him? We have an old mutual friend. He’s an idiot. Everything good that’s ever happened to him he’s stumbled ass-backwards into it. I give it a week or two as a warlord before someone’s killed him for his spot.” Mihawk explains. 
“Interesting. I’ll be back.” You stride towards Buggy’s table at the opposite end of the ballroom. Without asking or saying anything, you take a seat right beside the clown. 
“Hi.” You lean on your elbow on the table with your head tilted to the side. 
“O-oh, Hi! You’re uh- um- y/n!” The clown stutters out, startled by your sudden appearance next to him. 
“Mhmm…. And you’re Buggy… Captain Buggy.” You look into his sea-glass colored eyes. 
“Y-yes! I am Captain Buggy the Clown. A powerful warlord of the sea!” He nervously chokes out at you.  You giggle. 
“Yeah, me too. So…” You draw circles on the table with your finger. “What brings you to some stuffy Marine function like this one? Doesn’t really seem like your speed.”
“Uh… The free food and booze, honestly.” 
You laugh. Buggy’s posture becomes less stiff and uncomfortable. 
“I’m glad we’re here for similar reasons, Mr. Clown.” You raise your martini glass in his direction. Buggy raises his whiskey and clinks his glass to yours. 
“Please, y/n, call me Buggy. Mr. Clown was my father.” 
Maybe it was the gin talking, but you found yourself laughing out loud at his stupid joke. You both finish your drinks after your toast. 
“Hey, y/n… wanna see a card trick?” Buggy pulls a crusty old deck of cards out of his coat pocket and starts shuffling them. Your eyes widen, not expecting this man to be fully committed to the clown bit. 
“Fuck it, show me.” 
Several minutes of shuffling and slight-of-hand go by before the clown pulls a Queen of Hearts out the deck. 
“Is this your card?” He raises an eyebrow at you. 
“No fucking shit!” You slam your hands on the table, genuinely impressed that he had picked your card. 
“Hah Hah! Told ya!” Buggy laughs as he finishes his drink. You notice his empty glass. 
“Let me get you another drink. Don’t go anywhere.” You wink as you grab your glasses and turn towards the bar. After ordering and receiving your two drinks, you spy Mihawk at the end of the bar facing outward. 
“So, how’s the plight of the huntress going? Anyone that you-“ He starts as he brings his drink to his lips, but you cut him off. 
“I’m going to fuck the clown.” You say with a deadpan expression. 
“Gods, y/n, what?” Mihawk chokes out after he spits out his drink. 
“Yep. See you!” You don’t give Mihawk a chance to criticize your choice before you walk off. You bring the drinks back to the blue-haired clown and sit down, pulling your chair close to his as you sit. 
“Thanks!” Buggy takes a big gulp of his drink, noticing that your knees are now touching his. “So… uh… y/n? I gotta ask… with all these big wigs here… why are ya talking to me all night?” 
You sense his insecurities. Cute, you thought. 
“Well, Buggy,” You emphasize his name. “Unlike you, I am not new to this game. And since I am not new to this game, frankly, I am bored. All these stuck up, no-fun, corporate dickheads make for a very boring party.” You grab his hand that’s clutching his drink on the table. “You however…” You stroke your thumb along the back of his glove. You could see a drop of sweat slide down his temple. “You are fun. I like fun.” 
Buggy giggles nervously.
“Heh, well, uh, t-thank you. You’re… you’re f-fun too…” He uses his free gloved hand to rub the back of his neck. 
“Do you wanna see how much fun I can be, Captain Buggy?” You cock your head to the side and place your other hand on his knee. Buggy’s eyes blow so wide you thought he had seen a ghost. 
“I-… I- Um… Ah!” He jolts as you slide your hand up his thigh, further trying to get your point across. 
“Want to come back to my ship with me, Buggy?” You lean and whisper in his ear. 
“Yes! Of course I do! Now? Can we go now?” He stands up. You laugh. 
“Follow me, funny guy.” 
— —
Buggy follows you all the way back to your ship like a lovesick puppy. Trailing behind you and asking you all kinds of questions and oversharing about himself. You board your ship and lead him into your luxurious captain’s quarters and close the door behind you both. 
“Wow it’s really nice in here, y/n! Who does your…-mmph!” Buggy is cut off by your lips smashing against his as you push him against the closed door. 
You wrap your arms around the back of his neck and kiss him deeper. You feel smooth gloved hands wrap around your waist as he finally kisses you back once the shock wore off. Your lips move slowly together at first. Buggy is awkwardly trying to find a rhythm, but after a few moments he feels confident enough to walk you backwards and push you both onto your plush pink comforter. Now laying down, you wrap your legs around his hips, effectively hiking your dress up and exposing your panties to him. Buggy pulls back breathlessly and looks down at you. 
“Uh, so, uh… I-I don’t do this a lot… A-Are you sure you want to-?” His brows are furrowed and his eyes are full of uncertainty. 
You bring your hands up and remove his hat and tossing it to the floor, smoothing his long blue hair off to one side. 
“Buggy. I want you. Please.” With your last plead, you bucked your hips upward to grind into his hardened bulge. Buggy’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. 
“Fuck! Okay, okay, okay- let’s get this thing off you, hey?” Hurriedly, Buggy lifts your already hiked up dress over your head leaving you fully exposed except for a red lace thong with a little wet patch right over your hole. His eyes dart from your naked breasts to your long legs to your clothed sex, before you snapped him out of it. 
“I think you have too many clothes on.” You jump up and slide his jacket off of his shoulders and then lift his shirt off his head as he takes off his trousers and boots. Not wearing underwear (you smirk at this realization) he was now naked in front of you. You grab his face with both hands and pull him into a passionate kiss. He falls on top of you again. But during your heated make out, you roll him over so that you’re on top, grinding your lace covered cunt against his hard cock. 
“Y-y/n! Ah!” Buggy moans out lewdly, and he isn’t even inside of you yet. Perhaps knowing he wouldn’t last long once he feels your warm insides sucking him in, he pleads with you.
“Let me taste you, please, y/n. Wanna make you feel good on me…” He was so desperate, it was so cute. You giggle.
“Aww, you’re so cute, Buggy. Of course I’ll let you have a taste. Now open wide baby…” You shuffle your way up to his face and straddle it with your body facing the headboard. You grip your panties and push them forcefully to the side, exposing your slick pussy mere millimeters above Buggy’s waiting mouth. You fully seat yourself down on his face, knowing he could take it. He was a warlord now, after all. 
“Mmmpph!” Buggy swirls his tongue experimentally around your slit, groaning at the sinful taste. He laps and sucks up and down your cunt until he eventually finds your clit, eliciting a loud moan from you when he slurps it between his lips. 
“Fuck, there!” You throw your head back in pleasure as the man below you learns what turns you on and how to bring you to that edge. “Just like that, fuck! Keep going!” He enthusiastically licks at your clit harder with your praise. He moves to slip his tongue into your hole, you sigh out and wind your hands in his hair below you. Instinctively, you push your cunt onto his face, trying to force his tongue deeper into you when you hear-
HONK!
You gasp as all motions on your sex stop and you look down. Nervous, anxious eyes look back up at you from between your legs.
“Buggy… baby…” 
“Y/n I-“
“Baby that’s so hot.” You were panting down at him. His expression became one of even more confusion. “I want more. Do it again.”
Buggy was in shock. There’s no way you were really saying his nose was… sexy? It was turning you on? You had to be joking. There’s no way that you-
Buggy’s thoughts were cut off by you pushing your pussy down onto his mouth again, whining and begging for more of his tongue. 
HONK!
“Please baby? Make me cum on that handsome face of yours.” You gasp out as he resumes his ministrations on your swollen clit. You close your eyes and moan loudly. You feel two hands massaging at your breasts, and you snap your eyes open to see two disembodied hands at your chest. 
“Shit, yes! I’m gonna- ah!” 
With a final pinch of your nipples and a harsh suck to your clit, your orgasm rips through your body and you shriek out and grab the headboard in front of you for balance. Shudders of pleasure still radiate through your body as you hear Buggy’s hands reattach to his body and he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He cradles your face and kisses you deeply. You moan at the taste of your release on his lips. 
Buggy pulls back from the kiss. 
“D-Do ya still want to-?” Buggy asked, hesitantly, like he didn’t just let you ride his face. 
“Gods, yes. Fuck me.” You sighed as you slipped your panties all the way off and laid back on the bed with your legs spread. You were wiped from your orgasm, but your hole was still aching to be filled by the clown. He climbs on top of you and smiles a wicked smile. 
“Get it nice and wet for me first, kay?”
Suddenly you feel something velvety and hard tap against the side of your mouth. You glance down and see Buggy’s detached cock prodding at your kiss-bitten lips. You mindlessly obey and open your mouth and allow Buggy to slide it onto your tongue hands (and body) free. You wrap your lips around his shaft and try to suck it in as far as it will go down your throat. 
“W-wow doll, you really are somethin’!” Feeling himself already losing it at your cock-hungry expression, he pulls himself from your lips and attaches his spit-soaked cock back to his body, positioned at your dripping hole. 
“Just fuck me already, Buggy!” You grab his ass and push his hips into yours. He gets the message and swiftly bottoms out inside of you, the sloppy wetness of your saliva and arousal making it easy to slip right in. His long blue locks are splayed over his bare shoulders that stutter as he tries to compose himself now that he’s fully buried in your hot sex. You groan out, finally feeling him fill you. 
“FUCK, y/n!” Buggy leans forward and bites deeply into your neck, still trying to steel himself. Thinking this would keep him from cumming immediately, it had the opposite effect. When you felt his teeth in your neck, your cunt clenched on him so tight that it triggered his orgasm. Buggy’s eyes roll back and he muffles his moan. He can’t let you know that he came so early. 
Fighting overstimulation, he shallowly starts thrusting his hips into yours. Buggy whimpers at the feeling of his oversensitive cock gliding through your slippery, now cum-coated walls. 
“Harder, fuck me harder, PLEASE!” You were begging him to rail you, and he knew he had to give it to you. Hearing you plead made him fully hard again immeasurably quickly. Buggy places one hand on your hip and angles himself to thrust upwards inside your cunt. 
“That’s so good baby, please, right there just like that, you’re doing so good for me.” You slid your left hand down and rubbed your clit in tight circles. 
“Fuck, let me…” Buggy slaps your hand away to replace it with one of his now detached hands. He slows down his thrusts enough to drop a glob of spit down onto your clit and start rubbing it himself. 
“Bugs, fuck! Gonna cum! Ah, shit… yes!” You jolt upwards and waves of pleasure start overtaking your body. Buggy fucks you through your orgasm and picks up his pace. He attaches his hand and now places both hands on your hips to slam you onto his cock at a breakneck speed.
“Gonna fucking make you mine…. All mine…”
“Ah- yes- yours- fuck-“ You sputter out incoherently as you bounce back and forth against the bed on Buggy’s cock. 
“There it is baby… yes-!… ” Buggy slams his hips into yours deeply and empties himself for a second time inside of you tonight. After catching his breath in the crook of your neck, Buggy rolls off of you and lays his head on the pillow next to yours. You both make eye contact and start laughing. 
Buggy eventually rolls his body into a sitting position and rises from the bed. He begins picking up his belongings and tries pulling his shirt over his head. You sit up and look at him, while pulling the blankets over your body. 
“You’re not staying?” You inquire of your clown lover. 
“I-I wasn’t… I mean I wasn’t invited to sleep- sleep over? You know? I didn’t want to-“ He stutters out, his shirt on, dick still out in front of you. You giggle and flop back on the bed. 
“Get in here. I may be tired now, but I might want to see what else those chop-chop powers can do in the morning.” 
Buggy strips his shirt again and hops under the covers with you. 
“Doll, you haven’t even seen the half of it.”
xx 
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sailor-aviator · 15 days
Text
By Its Cover: Prologue
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By Its Cover: Prologue
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Summary: The frivolity of high society has never much interested in you. You preferred to spend your time reading, something your sisters couldn't fathom as they spent their time shopping the latest dress styles. The youngest of five children and the fourth daughter, not much was expected of you. You knew you might be married one day, but you hoped beyond hope that it would be to someone that might understand your intellectual pursuits. You begin exchanging letters with a mysterious stranger, and what's more, your older brother's rakish best friend seems to find himself in your path more and more as the season goes on. What's a girl to do? (Regency!AU)
Content Warning: Historical inaccuracies, Regency period, Period related drama, Talks of judgement, Period typical sexism, Talks of marriage, Death of a parent, Talks of making a debut, Reader's feelings are hurt, light angst, some fluff. I think that's it, but let me know if I missed something!
Word Count: 1.6k
Series Masterlist || Moodboard
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Winter gave way to spring as quickly as one rumor gave way to another. Public opinion changed as quickly as the seasons, as far as you were concerned. Your whole life was spent in the thralls of high society, your entire life scrutinized by the judgmental lords and ladies of the Island before you could even walk or talk.
You had earned your reputation as a rather odd girl fairly young not quite seven years. Where the other girls were interested in dolls and hair ribbons, you found yourself enraptured by the world around you. On more than one occasion, you received a tongue lashing from your nanny as you tracked mud through the house after one of your many excursions into the garden, your mother heaving a tired sigh as you argued the merits of fresh air and stimulating your endless supply of curiosity.
“My darling,” she’d say pointedly, giving you one of her signature looks that reeked of motherly disapproval and exasperation, “while I find the fresh air and time in the garden as stimulating as the next person, it is unbecoming of a lady, dearest.”
You had recounted the tale to your father later that evening, the older man sitting at his desk with his feet propped up on the top of the wooden surface as he thumbed through a page of one of his many novels.
“I just don’t understand, Papa,” you muttered, your hair hanging from where you sat upside down on the chaise. “Why can Will go about doing as he pleases while I am to be tied down by all of these ridiculous rules?”
Your father had merely chuckled, marking his page before setting his book down to look at you.
“My darling Bug,” he smiled, taking his feet down and opening his arms wide to you. “Come here.”
You obeyed, righting yourself on the couch before standing to walk over to him. Bug had been bestowed upon you as your moniker well before you could remember. Your father had said that you earned the nickname once you were old enough to crawl all over the place, getting into things that you most decidedly shouldn’t. Your siblings had said it was because you were a pest.
Your father grasped your upper arms gently, the smile on his face as affectionate as always.
“William doesn’t get to do as he pleases,” he explained, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you pouted at him. “He will one day be lord earl of this estate, and as such he will take on many duties that will prevent him from doing a great deal of things. Indeed, he will take on many things that will see him as constrained as you.”
“I don’t believe you,” you grumbled, scowling up at him. Your father tilted his head back with a booming laugh, patting your head before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“Nevermind all of that now, my little Lady Bug,” he hummed. “I’ve found a new story for you, would you like to read it?”
Your father was a fixture in your life, encouraging your love of learning perhaps more than he should have given the expectations set forth by society for you. Your mother saw no problem with your need for intellectual pursuits, but often grew exasperated at your clear lack of regard for decorum and stereotypical ladylike hobbies. Your elder sisters were the pinnacle of what proper ladies should look like in society, and you often found yourself being compared to them, much to your chagrin.
North Island, or the Island for short, was the nickname given to the group of nobles and upperclass that made up the elite, wealthy families that dictated the standards of polite society - the society you had the misfortune of being born into along with your elder siblings.
Your brother, William, was the pride of your family. He was a handsome, strong man that commanded the room with his very presence. He was jovial, charismatic, and intelligent by all accounts, and very popular amongst the other ladies of the Island.
Lydia was the second eldest after William, and was the the spitting image of your mother, with beautiful features that left all the men on the Island giving her longing looks. It was the Earl Reuben Fitch that won her hand in the end only seven seasons ago, and now they visited once in a while with their three children in tow.
Theodosia, or Theo for short, was the second eldest daughter, having entered into society only one year after Lydia, she was the prize to be won with her charming and elegant demeanor. Not quite as beautiful as Lydia, she made up for it with her wit, having won the affection of a viscount that same year.
Georgiana, or Georgie as your family was prone to call her, was only a year older than you and had made her debut the year prior. She had not settled for any of the men of the Island the year prior, setting her sights high and determining that the best had yet to come.
You rounded out the lot as the youngest, the strange, little sister that no one knew what to do with more often than not. The ladies of the Island often remarked that your head was too full of ideals, unsuitable for a lady of your noble family, and they lamented how your mother and father must have grown lax in their child rearing when it came to you. Or perhaps you were a hopeless cause. The reason varied day to day it seemed.
You were quite content with how your life was playing out. You had your books, the garden, and your dearest friend, Natasha Trace. Natasha, or Nat, was about a year older than yourself, having made her debut the same year as Georgiana.
“I’ll be happy once you make your debut,” she had said to you one night. “I won’t feel so alone at all the balls then.”
You had frowned at her words, the very thought of entering society growing less and less appealing by the day.
“Why must I debut?” You had asked your mother not too long after. “I’m the fourth daughter of an earl. Surely it is not that important that I marry.”
“Dearest,” your mother had sighed, setting her needlework down to look at you, “marriage is not all work. As the fourth daughter, you have more freedom to marry whom you would like. Your father would have wanted you to marry.”
“Father would have wanted me to do what made me happy,” you had muttered, turning to leave the room before she could respond.
Your father had passed years prior when you were only eight, and his memory still haunted the halls of the manner. William had taken up his title as earl, seeing to the estate with the help of your mother until he was capable of doing things on his own. Ten years your senior, he had done his best to fill in the holes your father’s absence had left behind, though he still needed reminding that he was, in fact, not your father.
“You’ll be making your debut this year,” he reminded you, scribbling away in the family ledger, casting you a spare glance as you scowled down at him.
“Please don’t make that face,” he sighed, setting his quill down to give you his undivided attention. “And please don’t make this more difficult than need be. Every young lady makes her debut at some point or another.”
“Why must I debut?” You frowned, your lips quickly forming into a smirk as a thought struck you. “Can I not live out my days on my own with you to support me?”
“You may not,” Williams replied flatly. “Bug, I know it can be nerve wrecking-”
“You have no idea what it’s like,” you interjected.
“But, it’s a part of growing up. You’ll find a husband who will make you reasonably happy and live out your days with him,” he finished. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you clasped your hands together.
“William,” you began, “who would want me? The whole Island has deemed me strange, the black sheep of our family. You would really put me through this embarrassment for the sake of tradition?”
“I think you’ll find yourself surprised at who may want you,” William countered. “Many men on the Island are in need of a wife, and some may be willing to settle for someone of your nature given the right circumstances.”
A beat passed between you two, your heart stalling in your chest at his words.
“Settle?” You laughed quietly, but there was no humor to be found in your tone. “I am something to be settled for then?”
You hated how small you sounded in that moment. Of course, you didn’t care for what others thought of you. No, you were above all of that. Still, the thought that your brother saw you as some secondhand prize, something no one would seek out, hurt, and you willed the stinging tears behind your eyes to go away as you schooled your features.
William cursed under his breath, moving to stand, his face apologetic as he rounded the desk.
“Bug, that’s not what I meant-”
“No,” you snapped, sniffly slightly as you fought to compose yourself. “You’ve said quite enough already, brother. You’ve made perfectly clear where I stand as it is.”
He moved to say something, but you waved him off, already turning to leave the study.
“You’re busy,” you said flatly, “I’ll leave you to your business.”
William called out your name, but you ignored him, walking briskly down the hall and to the solace of your family’s library.
If you were something to be settled for, then you would at least make the most of what little freedom you had left.
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A/N: Ahhhh!! The long awaited, much requested Regency!AU is finally here! Here's our first taste of Bug and Jake, so what do we think? As always, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. If you would like to receive updates on when I post, please go follow my sideblog (@sailoraviator-library) and turn on post notifications! My work is cross posted on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!
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undreaming-fanfiction · 7 months
Text
Hearts Don't Break Around Here
For the lovely @thefreakandthehair for her wedding. I hope it was everything you wanted it to be!
(also on Ao3)
It’s the small things that make Eddie Munson realize he’d like to make some changes to his life. The mountain of mugs on his desk tells him that, hey, maybe he should get a tea pot (or a bigger desk). The holes in his t-shirt don’t really bother him until he accidentally drops some very hot cigarette ash through one of them and he realizes that he should retire the t-shirt, or maybe re-purpose it for his next battle vest. The way he thinks about it, he needs the universe to send him a small sign.
When it comes to Steve Harrington? Eddie is the happiest in his life. Steve isn’t just a boyfriend, he is THE boyfriend, the alpha and omega of boyfriendness or boyfrienddom, Eddie still can’t decide what to call it. Whatever a boyfriend should be, Steve is. So Eddie doesn’t really think of any possible changes, everything is perfect, except…
Except they’re in bed together, trading lazy kisses and exchanging those stupid little words that make Eddie feel all warm and fuzzy and put a silly smile on Steve’s face. They’re holding hands, Eddie’s guitar calluses against Steve’s sport ones, and Eddie runs his finger over Steve’s and thinks.
I really, really want to put a ring on this man.
The realization hits him like a baby Demogorgon, and once he scrambles together a poor explanation of why he froze mid-kiss (“there was a bug, Steve, like an enormous bug, Shelob-like, I swear on Dustin’s mother!”), he courageously decides to explore his feelings on the matter.
Of course, they can’t get officially married. Yet. Eddie is an optimist, so there is always a yet to be added to any negative thought. It isn’t really about making it legal or seeing Steve in white (well, maybe a little) or having a big party. No, it’s just…
The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes it’s about the promise.
Eddie hasn’t had many certainties in his life, but when they appear, he’s distrustful of them. Nothing lasts long for him and if it does, it only gets taken away the very second he starts feeling hopeful that maybe this is it, this is the one thing he’ll get to keep. He used to feel that way about Steve, but Steve Harrington never left. And when Eddie finally broached the subject, asked him why he tolerates Eddie’s humor, messiness, lack of drive and basically everything Eddie, Steve took Eddie’s hands in his and told him, “I’ve had my share of perfection for a lifetime, Eddie. It’s pretty but so cold. Being with you? It’s like…like being in the sun in the spring, when it’s warm and you’re lying on grass and there are ants walking over you and your clothes are likely to get stained, but you just don’t care because it’s the only place you want to be.” And as if that wasn’t too much for Eddie’s poor heart, he added, “I will never break your heart, Eddie. Never. And I don’t make these promises lightly.”
So no, no one can blame Eddie for wanting to give Steve something back. He wants Steve to be the first commitment Eddie dares to believe, and no matter what, he’ll get that ring.
If only it was that easy.
First of all, choosing anything in Hawkins is impossible. His dear old dad made sure that Eddie can’t go anywhere near jewelry shops without people blaming him for trying to steal stuff, so he makes a trip to Indy and stares to his heart’s content. It’s only when the shopkeeper, a nice elderly lady, asks him what style he’s looking for, he realizes – he has no idea.
He promises to come back the next weekend, a bit more decisive and well-prepared.
Eddie sucks at being inconspicuous, so he enlists help. Robin – after squishing his cheeks to death and beyond – agrees to be his spy and drags Steve off to an emergency meeting, claiming things are way more serious with her college girlfriend than they really are and, “I want to give her something nice, like a ring, but a ring that doesn’t say “marry me”, you get me Steve, no time for that when I’m up to my ears in books, so what would you say is an ideal ring? Is that different for guys maybe? What would you choose? I’m just curious because the only example of a guy with a ring I know is Eddie, and I’m not giving her a silver demon thing, nope, not ever.”
Eddie learns two things this way.
First: Steve doesn’t have clear preferences for jewelry, he is all for “seeing the thought behind it”. Eddie wonders if Steve realizes how many thoughts he has and not all of them are ring-worthy.
Second: Steve thinks having an engraving on the inside is the most romantic thing ever, even something simple can become so personal and touching. What should the engraving be? Robin doesn’t know.
The next weekend comes and Eddie drives back to Indy again (Wayne is covering for him, telling Steve he asked Eddie to run some errands for him) and he’s better prepared this time. He chooses a simple gold ring with a yellow stone, just a small one, almost invisible, but Steve’s sweater is always on his mind, so it’s a good choice. He thinks about the engraving too, and his list is, in hindsight, atrocious, and he might have written it when seriously sleep-deprived, but still. He cringes at his own handwriting. 
To my Ozzy
You’re so metal, baby
I tolerate basketball for you
To my only reason why 1986 was good
Get a mug collection with me?
But there is just one that Eddie sees and thinks , this is it . So when the nice lady asks him what to engrave, he hands her a paper with his messy handwriting that simply says:
You’re my home, Stevie
The moment of elation and victory is short-lived. She asks him for Steve’s ring size, and well. He should have probably found that out, shouldn’t he?
He promises to return to the shop as soon as he knows. On his way back, he tries to figure out an inconspicuous way of measuring Steve’s fingers.
Once again, Eddie sucks at being inconspicuous.
He tries wrapping a measuring tape around Steve’s finger when they’re asleep. That nearly earns him a smack in the face with Steve’s bat because he’s a light sleeper and forever scarred by their Upside Down adventures. At least Eddie manages to persuade Steve that it was just a piece of his pajamas stuck on Steve’s finger so he doesn’t question the weird feeling that woke him up.
He practices measuring by touch and holding Steve’s hands a lot. The margin of error is in centimeters, so he gives this idea up pretty easily. He blames it on not having enough time to practice, of course.
He (inconspicuously, of course) wonders aloud whether his hands are larger than Steve’s. They place their palms against each other, notice that Eddie’s fingers are slimmer and longer and Steve’s are shorter and stronger, but otherwise? Not helpful.
The breakthrough finally comes when Eddie actually volunteers to wash the dishes for once, but asks Steve to hold on to his rings. He places them on Steve’s fingers and notices with barely contained excitement that yes, one of his rings actually fits Steve’s ring finger (some shuffling around was required, “I don’t want to lose any of the rings, Steve, they need to fit very, very precisely!”).
Eddie has his answer now. He ties a small ribbon to the ring so he doesn’t forget which one it is, basically races to Indy again after calling Wayne and using the agreed code word to have his uncle send him to run some imaginary errands again.
He bursts into the shop, wheezing and holding the ring between his fingers. “This big!” he chokes out and collapses against the counter while the shopkeeper (Margaret, they’re on first name terms now since he’s been ring shopping for around a month) hands him a glass of water.
“Your Steve must be pretty special,” she smiles at him, and Eddie’s brain short-circuits because Indy is better, but definitely not accepting, and this lady has been so nice, has he blown it? Has he ever mentioned he has a boyfriend? Shit, he must have…
He opens his mouth like a fish several times. “Uh…m…Stevie…is, yes?” he says and prays he’s not going to get kicked out in the next twenty seconds. “The…the stone reminds me of him. He’s like a ray of sunshine.”
Margaret just laughs and refills his glass. “Good for you. It’s nice to see someone have the courage. I wish I had it in my day.”
Eddie is laughing with her now, the water surface in his glass is swaying from side to side and tells her, “Your day isn’t over, it’s never over until we’re done breathing.” She gives him the kindest smile anyone outside of his found family has ever spared him. It keeps him warm on his way back to Hawkins.  
He picks up the ring in three days, he can’t wait any longer, and Margaret is kind enough to get the engraving as a priority. She meets him outside of the shop in the evening, hands him the small blue velvet box and grasps his hand before letting go. “Go make that handsome young man happy,” she says and Eddie has never promised to do something so easily and so fast.
He stashes the box in the drawer with his formal wear and waits for the perfect opportunity. That resolution lasts him for about one week because another thing Eddie sucks at is being patient. On top of that, Eddie knows in his heart that Steve has had a lifetime of grand gestures and pretend perfection. Sure, Steve deserves all the romance and luxury Eddie can afford, but if he says he’s even happier in their cramped home, on their old bed, with the constant DIY projects, homemade meals, and bad movies rented from Family Video, Eddie will respect that. Hell, Eddie loves that.
They’re cuddling together on a sofa, dishes unwashed and piled up in the sink, and the latest B-list sci-fi movie playing on their small TV. Eddie’s holding Steve’s hand again and he traces his fingers, feels the bare skin and realizes – this is it. This is when I do it.
He kisses Steve and promises he’ll be right back, he just needs to quickly take a note of something for the next campaign. Eddie doesn’t even try to conceal the rush he’s in, he dives into their bedroom and completely destroys the fragile order in his drawer to get to the priceless box. His hands are shaking, but he’s determined, he opens the door again, slips into their living room and-
And Steve is there, smiling at him like his own personal ray of sunshine, a bit shy but radiant, just as he always is. And in his hand-
“No way,” chuckles Eddie and inspects the blue box Steve is holding to confirm that yes, it bears the logo of Margaret’s shop. “When did you get to Indy?”
Steve takes a step closer and tucks Eddie’s unruly hair behind his ear. “Let’s just say I skipped some basketball practices. And before you ask, yes, I had to use blackmail to keep Sinclair quiet.”
“Oh?” Eddie’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but he can’t help it. “What did you tell him?”
“Nothing big. Just that I still have the list with potential date ideas with Max he forgot at my place and I’m holding that hostage. Now, I believe I have a question to ask. And…” he looks down at Eddie’s trembling fingers, “maybe you do too?”
Eddie kisses him, short and sweet. “That depends, are you going to say yes?” It’s playful, but there’s also a hint of insecurity, the fear that Steve managed to weaken but never truly destroy. And maybe it’s the coward’s way out, but Eddie needs to know if he’s right in thinking Steve wants this too, if maybe he just got the ring because he wanted to make Eddie happy or assumed that’s what Eddie wanted. Which duh, he does, but this is not about
“I told you, Eddie,” and Steve’s hand is back on his cheek, stroking it, grounding Eddie. “I will never break your heart. And I trust you so much that I want to give mine to you. If you’ll have it.”
He leans his forehead against Steve’s, smiling at the ridiculousness of the question. “If I’ll have it? Stevie, I do. So much. I will cherish it, polish it, even dust it because I know you love everything to be clean.” Steve snorts, but Eddie continues, determined to finish his improvised speech. “I know it’s not the life you thought you’d have. I can’t give you a real wedding, kids, I can’t even kiss you in public. And I know it doesn’t change much between us, but I just want to give you this. I want to give you a real promise that your heart is safe with me, just like mine is safe with you. And it will always be.”
They exchange their “yes” between kisses, and when they catch their breath, the rings follow. Steve loves his, of course he does, and he tears up at the engraving, but then Eddie sees his own silver band and notices something written inside too.
I will follow you to Mordor, Eds.
“You remembered,” he whispers as Steve pushes the ring onto his finger. “You don’t even know the books and you remembered.”
Laughing, Steve shakes his head. “Don’t give me too much credit. I had to badger Dustin to tell me what you said during that spring break. I…I just thought it’s fitting, you know. It was fucked up, cruel and painful, and yet…I’d go through all of it again, just to be with you here.”   
Crushing Steve in a hug, Eddie knows exactly how he feels.
The next morning, Eddie actually wakes up early. He manages to leave the bed without rousing his fiancé, Jesus Christ, he’s never going to get used to saying it or seeing the ring on his finger. Sneaking towards the phone, he finds his wallet and the card that Margaret gave him, and when she picks up, he doesn’t even give her a chance to announce her name.
“Hello Margaret, my dear,” he drawls, “when were you planning to tell me that you know Steve too?”
He can hear her chuckling. “Well, dear. I thought me saying that Steve is handsome implied it?”
“Oh.” Eddie isn’t entirely speechless, but it’s close. “So…how did you know it was…you know. My Steve? And not any other Steve?”
There’s a strange sound, possibly Margaret sipping coffee, before she responds. “I could tell you it’s the experience I have. Or that I had a hunch. But – he came in wearing a yellow sweater. A very familiar-looking yellow. And he said he’s looking for an engagement ring for someone who is non-conforming, passionate and loves silver, red and black. It wasn’t difficult to put two and two together, especially after he told me what he wanted engraved.” Another sip. “But that’s enough about that, what I want to know is – who proposed first?”
Eddie laughs into the phone and switches hands so he can admire the silver ring glistening in the morning light. “I’d say it was a tie. But hey, we both said yes. Thank you so much, Margaret, for all you’ve done. And, uh. If we ever get to have a wedding, you’re invited.”
“It would be my pleasure,” she says and Eddie thinks she really means it.
“Great, I will call you then. And Margaret?” He twirls the cord around his fingers, only sparing a second to form his thoughts. “In case you find some of that courage too? I can guarantee you a plus one, so be a brave lady and get one, hmm?”
Her laughter follows him as he hangs up and returns to the bed to join the future Mr. Munson.
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no1frogfan · 1 year
Text
The incident
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Kuroo Tetsurou x fem reader
Word count: ~600
Tags & warnings: fluff, reader referred to as wife
Note: This was dumb & fun to write. Kuroo supremacy <3
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You’re not married, and maybe you never will be, but sometimes Kuroo calls you his wife or refers to himself as your husband.
“Could you pass me my coffee please, wife?” He’ll ask, grinning mischievously when you choke on your latte. Glaring at him just encourages him further, so you can only grumble inaudible threats into your cup as your cheeks heat up.
“Don’t forget to give your husband a kiss before he leaves for work!” He’ll remind you as you hand him his lunch. He’ll remain in the genkan, insistently tapping his cheek with one finger. You can try dashing away, but Kuroo’s reflexes are annoyingly quick. His arms will promptly wrap around your waist to pull you in and pepper your face with (retaliatory) kisses.
He's positively giddy every single time, and even though it's been months since the incident, it still mortifies you every single time.
It all started because of your big, dumb mouth.
At the time, you’d only been dating for a month. But it had only taken one measly month for him to charm you with his bad jokes and earnest smile, and you’d fallen for him hard. You thought about him constantly, texted him nonstop, and gave yourself excuses to see him.
This was entirely new territory for you. In past relationships, you’d always preferred a lot of space, often getting irritated if you received too many messages, and you never wanted to see them more than once a week. You were focused on your professional goals and, though you’re not proud of it, you usually dropped whoever you were dating when work got busy.
On your first date, you’d warned Kuroo about this tendency and made it clear that work was your first priority. He wasn’t exactly thrilled, but he’d plowed ahead nonetheless and somehow managed to weasel his way into your heart.
And what’s more surprising is that you’d let him.
He gave you space whenever you wanted it, but you found yourself seeking out his company more and more. Whenever anything happened, it became your first instinct to share it with him — important things, dull things, sad things, stupid things, funny things. You wanted to talk to him all morning, afternoon, evening, night, and morning again.
It was scary to let yourself fall so completely, and yet being with him felt as natural as breathing. So even though you weren't even officially dating yet, you made the mistake of allowing yourself to think about forever. And on one completely ordinary, average night when you’d invited him over for a movie, it just…slipped out...
“Wait, what did you just say?” Kuroo springs up from the couch.
“I asked if you want some tea.”
“No, what did you just call me?”
“Uh…Kuroo?”
A grin spreads slowly, almost maniacally, across his face, “Nooo, that’s not what you said.”
Shit. Of course he noticed, that attentive fucking asshole.
“Youuuu just called me husband.”
Your eyes bug out. “No, I did not!”
He cackles gleefully. “Well…at first, I wasn’t sure if I'd heard right, but now I'm positive you said it because you’re trying to deny it way too much.”
Fuck. “I’m so sorry.” You cover your face with your hands, wishing you could throw yourself in a pit, “Oh my god this is so embarrassing…”
“Awww don’t be embarrassed,” he coos, striding over and letting you burrow your face into his chest. He wonders if you can feel his heart hammering against your cheek. “Now I know you like me too.”
“I do not like you!”
“You liiiike me~ you liiiiiike me~” Kuroo sings, rocking both of you side to side.
“Shut up Kuroo.”
“Now, now, is that any way to talk to your husband?”
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zephyrchama · 1 month
Note
Hi!! I love your hc’s , can I request how the brothers would react to a s/o from who’s deathly afraid of wasps , like phobia strength fear . (It’s spring where I am and I have a phobia of wasps so i really want comfort stuffs lol)
Thank you! I've been wanting to write something bug-related, hope I don't disappoint too much! If there's not enough fluff or comfort, I'll try to come up with something else. I wound up writing how they'd handle the situation.
(little scary note: Devildom wasps are probably awful monstrosities, maybe even bigger than human realm ones. They could have all kinds of RPG monster-style wasps in addition to the “normal” sized ones that humans are familiar with (yet have some crazy venom).)
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Lucifer revels in being the first person you go to when you feel afraid. He doesn’t quite get why it’s such a big emergency, and he doesn’t like the chore of having to stop what he’s doing just to take care of a common pest, but there’s a warmth in knowing you come straight to him when you're scared. At first he would tell you to go ask someone else. Or, couldn’t you chase it off yourself with magic? He knows that surely you’re more than capable. He has better things to do than deal with a wasp. But with enough begging, he’d give in. Especially if you bury yourself under his coat. He can feel you trembling. Grasping his shirt in your fingertips and shakily asking “Lucifer, please?” will usually do the trick. He takes his coat off and drapes it over your head so you don’t have to watch while he takes care of things. Typically, it only takes seconds to erase all traces of the wasp’s existence. It takes far longer for you to convince Lucifer to help than it does for him to actually help. As the problem persisted and the weather got warmer, Lucifer started insisting you wear bug repellant to keep the problem at bay. He stops you in the morning to make sure you’re wearing it. If you come to him later in the day with a wasp-related issue, he’ll hold you back and personally make sure every inch from head to toe is coated before you leave. "I can't have any pests approaching you when I'm not around," he explains.
-----
Mammon loves when you rely on him. He has no trouble getting rid of a pesky bug or two. The first time it happened, he panicked. His human was crying and shaking and could hardly speak - the human he’s supposed to be in charge of. If anything happened to you, he’d be in a world of trouble. “What? What happened, huh?” he asked, grabbing your shoulders. He couldn’t understand unless you told him. “Help,” you whimpered, pointing where you had been standing moments before. “What?” The only thing there now was a buzzing wasp, flitting to and fro. “That thing?” You nodded and the relief that washed over him was immense. He almost laughed. “Man, don’t scare me like that! C’mon, the Great Mammon’ll take care of it for you.” Now, he’ll ask for rewards. Nothing big, but just enough to motivate him and keep you from taking advantage of him. He can’t let you find out that your tears are his weakness, after all. Mammon makes a big show of playing the hero, saying “get behind me” and pulling you in close. He’ll wrap an arm over you, guiding your head into his side while firing off a spell with a “bang!” Sometimes he’s so focused on how cute you look that he misses and sets fire to a shrub, but as long as you’re not looking, he can coolly escort you in the opposite direction as if nothing is out of the ordinary. “Well? Don’t ya think the Great Mammon deserves a reward for savin’ ya?”
-----
“Do I have to?” Leviathan gets anxious and doesn’t want to confront the wasps. He can see how distraught you are and it’s tugging on his heart strings, but they freak him out too. He’s so much stronger and he knows it, but their unpredictability is unsettling. He’ll let you take shelter in his room for as long as you want, or under his hoodie as long as you don’t move too much. If you’re especially persistent, he’ll eventually work up the courage. It might take a while though. With a mighty wadded up newspaper in one hand and the other hand outstretched protectively in front of you, he’ll slowly inch forward towards any unsavory bug. At the smallest sound though, he’ll jump and it’s back to square one. If the wasp moves and you shriek, he shrieks with you. “Don’t scare me like that!! I-I… I almost had it!! Arrghhh!” If you two are lucky, the commotion attracts one of his other brothers who rolls their eyes and crushes the wasp like it’s made of paper. On days when backup never arrives, you have to play hype man until Levi finally works up the nerve to one-shot the target. “I did it!” He looks so happy, and he occasionally strikes a silly victory pose despite also falling back in relief. He is the hero who saved the human in distress, after all. The next time it happens he’s still incredibly reluctant, but he upgrades his rolled-up newspaper to one of those electric zapping polls so he feels a little cooler.
-----
Satan is usually unperturbed by the bugs. They’re certainly annoying, but nothing to fret over. “You want me to take care of that?” he’ll ask, no questions asked. You don’t even need to say anything. He notices when your attention wanders from him, when the look in your eye changes and your demeanor shifts upon spotting one. You don’t have to speak if you’re unable to. Grabbing on to the empty sleeve of his jacket is enough of an answer. Satan is especially handy if there are multiple bugs buzzing in the vicinity. It’s not often he gets to practice his curses on a moving target. If he’s having an especially rough day, he’ll pack all his frustrations and wrath into a single blow that’s way more powerful than necessary. That is doubly true if he’s interrupted during a nice moment. Satan likes to savor good times without being disturbed. He’s ruthless if a wasp comes along and ruins the nice atmosphere between you two. He tries to be careful around his book collection, but anything else in the way is fair game to be destroyed. His attempts to calm you down afterwards are less helpful. He tries to distract you with trivia. “That was just an infernal warrior bee. You can tell by the three horizontal stripes and ones vertical stripe on its back. We must have walked past its nest, they’re mostly harmless unless you get too close and they start unsheat-” ”Aaaaaahhh!!!” The quickest way to shut Satan up before your fear gets worse is just to shout louder than he talks, especially if you nuzzle your head against his chest while he does it.
-----
Asmodeus gives you a nauseated look. He could probably destroy a bug in seconds, but they’re gross. He wants nothing to do with them. “Isn’t there anybody else around to get it?” It’s quite a sight to see Asmodeus publicly charm people into disposing of a wasp for the two of you. It is the most convenient way when other people are around. He does it as naturally as breathing, and then the two of you have to run from his obsessed fans instead of an insect. If Asmo sends a distress text to his brothers, it’s rare for someone to actually show up. But if you join him and spam the house’s group chat together, somebody will inevitably come to your aid. The two of you have cowered together in a corner many times waiting on one of his other brothers to show up. Due to this, you’ve perfected a defensive formation. If you both hug each other, fingers intertwined and head resting on the other’s shoulder, it calms you both down while also minimizing the blind spots in the room. You can spot any bug approaching with a 95% accuracy rate. If it’s a long day and bugs are a major recurring issue, Asmo will snap. Enough is enough. He still manages to be so pretty, despite his raging demonic energy knocking down everything in its path. He feels so disgusted afterwards though and will invite you to bathe the grossness away with him in a long, long bath.
-----
Beelzebub the reliable. Beelzebub the wonderful. You have so much appreciation for this dude. Beel is often the one you can turn to when nobody else will help. He’s not the best at spotting the smaller insects so you need to be very descriptive about where you saw them, but he shows no hesitation when it comes to exterminating them for you. The way he casually just whacks them aside is astounding. He’s more concerned about your shaking and crying and will try to prioritize comforting you over handling the wasps, but that just makes you more scared. With each passing moment, who knows where they’ll fly to next? “Please, please Beel. Just please take care of it, make it go away!” The sooner the better. The corners of his mouth will turn down, hesitant to turn his back on you, but he agrees. “Ok.” You must ensure to reward him with plenty of snacks. It keeps him protectively by your side for longer and otherwise he starts wondering how the felled wasps would taste fried. He used to get concerned you wouldn’t eat with him, but has since learned you need time to calm down before you appetite returns. It helps if you can sit in his lap, a fortified spot you’re certain no wasps can get near.
-----
Belphegor is too lazy to lift a finger most days. If they’re not bothering him, he doesn’t want to bother with them. But the way you twitch, the way you shriek and jump over the smallest movements, will start to concern him. It’s cute at first. He enjoys seeing a new side of you, the easily startled side. It's amusing. If it goes on for too long though he knows you’ll get nightmares and it will mess with your health. Humans get sick easily like that. He’ll laugh at you and then fell the buzzing menace with ease. It’s easier to get Belphegor to help when he’s tired. The buzzing annoys him to no end when all he wants is a peaceful nap. He might not even be conscious of what he's doing and protects you out of pure instinct. When he’s cranky, he shows no mercy to the insects hassling you. You’ve got blanket permission to throw yourself in his arms when he’s taking a nap. His demon form tail is an especially potent fly (or any winged creature, really) swatter, ensuring nothing gets near the two of you. Belphegor will literally take care of everything in his sleep while he snuggles up to you without a care in the world. One time you were escaping a nagging Lucifer instead of a wasp and tried the same tactic. It only made him madder. But it was great to see him get bapped in the face with Belphegor’s fluffy tail.
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shomixremix · 2 months
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HOT SPRINGS OF INAZUMA ♥︎
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this was inspired by @captainfia 's absolutely amazing art of itto in the bath. wrote this in one go, that's how great the fanart is. thank you for giving me what to write for this wonderful sweet himbo <3
can you tell itto is my favorite
tags: arataki itto, female!reader, fluff, slight angst, smut, sex in a hot spring, established relationship (kinda??), jealousy, mentions of an arranged marriage, forbidden love
-> you decide to unwind after a rough day in the nearby hot spring, only to be met with someone already hogging it - a very large, very handsome, very demon someone.
reqs open!! | minors DNI
dressed in a silk kimono and nothing else, you make your way to the hot spring not far from your house. there is not one but two neatly folded towels in your arms, one significantly larger than the other. even though you couldn't be certain, the smirk on your lips was already anticipating the feeling of a much larger body behind you.
the smirk curls into a full-blown grin as you realize your intuition was right yet again; the big, burly body you knew every crevice and curve of stretched lazily in the bath. you set the towels down on a nearby rock, slipping out your wooden sandals.
you can't help but be in awe of the man, no matter how many times you've seen and felt him before. the red marks adorning his body that you were so familiar with and sometimes oh so desperately traced on your pillow to try and feel him closer never failed to make your lower stomach swirl with arousal. always forgetting your lover was a mythical animalistic being, and therefore, had a very sharp sense of smell.
"fuuuccckkk..." he groaned out as he threw his head back, "don't just stare, love bug, get in here"
you smile at the little petname the demon used, eager hands running down to untie your kimono and let it ruffle against your feet. as soon as it was discarded of your body, you dip your toes in the hot water hesitantly.
it was an understatement to say you had fully expected him to pull you in playfully by your feet, rough-housing you until you were maneuvered onto his lap. yet, the oni does nothing of the sort, his head continuing to hang back in what you assumed was pleasure and tiredness.
you step in further, letting your thighs be submerged by the hot water. only then does he notice your existence, eager, crimson eyes watching you as you float closer to him. 'like an angel', he thinks.
"you're early" slips off your tongue, a loving smile on your face as you look at the oni in front of you. his face stretches out in a toothy grin, a soft blush in his cheeks under the moonlight.
"what's wrong, itto? that excited to see me?" you tease through a chuckle, tempting him as you very slowly move through the water.
"you know i always am, sweets", he teases back, a hint of hunger in the way he's looking at you. however, you also notice a gleam of something that wasn't an ever-present look on his handsome face - exhaustion. the kind which you've only seen from very overworked soldiers and generals.
"you okay, arataki? you look tired"
to your surprise, he doesn't answer the question, submerging deeper into the water until only his chest and head were left uncovered. you make your way over to him, sitting down in his lap, your legs wrapped around each one of his meaty thighs.
"hm? what's wrong, itto?" you repeat your question as your fingers run through his mane, yet to no avail - the oni's arms run to grab your hips, pulling you even closer.
"nothin', baby, everything's just fine. just... tired, a bit."
"aww, my poor oni..." you coo softly as you kiss his neck, trying to further relax your lover, "did the arataki gang stumble into some monsters? is that why you're tired, love?"
he grumbles something incoherently, his claws digging in the softness of your waist and hips. the big, rough-looking demon turns into mush as you kiss him, dishing out quiet praises into your ear.
"mmph, love bug, so good.. so freakin' good to me, baby... missed ya', missed ya' a lot.."
"aww, missed you too, itto!" your final kiss is pressed onto the point where his neck meets his chest, where you nuzzle you head and still. however, your rest is far from guaranteed - you know damn well not a single one of your hot-spring dates could end without itto letting you ride him.
so, just like every other time, the demon pulls you in closer, letting your softness brush lightly over his shaft under the water's surface. you giggle at the all familiar feeling, slowly sinking down on him, just how he likes. just how you like, too.
"ohhh, itto..." you moan into the night. even after so many times and so many nights stolen and spent here, with him, you weren't used to his size. it took a bit of a struggle and one sharp thrust of his hips, but soon you were fully seated on the oni.
much to your dismay, your lover didn't thrust his hips into yours and bury his head into your chest, as always. no, this time he simply laid back, head thrown back as his forearms rested on the hot spring's edges.
your instincts tell you something is wrong - the usually bubbly, excited, restless oni was now slumped and without energy, not even caring for the fact that he was inside you, that he was wrapped in your velvety warmth. your palm reaches to touch his neck, slowly tracing the big, red markings down his torso.
"anything i can do to help, itto?" you ask unsurely. you weren't used to being the one carrying the conversations between the two of you - his much more extroverted personality took care of that. yet, he remained quiet. too quiet.
"jus' stay like that for a lil' while, sweets, hmm?" he mumbled, enjoying the warmth of his bath.
"i brought all kinds of soaps and oils.." you hum, a hand running through his mane, "would you like me to help you wash off, oni?"
arataki only nods, letting out a large sigh as you shift a bit on his lap so you could grab the toiletries. his sigh turns into a groan as soon as your hands meet his body again, massaging every defined muscle with a mixture of dendrobium oil and sakura petals. his eyes never shift towards your body, head thrown back from the pleasure.
now that he was completely cleaned of any musk from a hard day's work - aka running around and playing adventurers with the gang - his usual self still hasn't emerged, making your eyebrows scrunch in worry.
he wasn't very willing to talk, you knew. yet you needed a way to make him feel even an ounce better.
your own neediness and the fact that itto never once before denied your pleasure made you roll your hips to his, earning a slight groan from him. that only encouraged you more, rolling your hips again, and again, and again...
"shiiittt, sweets.." he howled, his tense muscles relaxing into your touches. how you loved every curve of that enormous body... your hands go over his pillow-y pecs, across his defined abs that always make you drool and all the way down to his belly button and the little happy trail that, indeed, made you very happy. your roll your hips again, desperate for his attention. the warmth of the bath wasn't enough - you needed the warmth of the oni.
as he gets more desperate, his grip on your hips becomes tighter and tighter. you know he's close to snapping, his hips shallowly thrusting into your warmth. to get him to loosen up completely, you lay your body forward, nuzzling your face into his neck, right under his ear.
"itto.." you breathe into him, "fuck me. please. i've looked forward to this all day..."
no matter how tired, those weren't words any oni could ignore - let alone an oni desperately in love. in cruel, tangled, messy love.
"fuck, baby..." he groans, giving you a rough thrust, "missed ya' too.."
his pace picks up and suddenly, he's hunched forward, handsome face nestled in the crook of your neck, big, beefy biceps wrapped around your waist. his sharp fangs grazed your skin, always careful not to leave a mark.
"don't.. hah.." the usually over-confident itto hesitated. he hesitated!
"don't go, baby, yeah? lemme bring you to the gang, you know everyone loves ya', they'll be more than.. fuck! more than excited to see i finally brought ya' home"
the look in your eyes changes from one of pure arousal to a saddened one, your hand running to cradle his cheek.
"you know i can't, arataki.." you coo, pressing a kiss to his forehead, "i'd love to, i'd love to stay in a tent with you forever, but..."
there was no need to finish that sentence. itto knew well why you couldn't - that, however, didn't make it any easier.
"yeah, yeah, i know" he grumbled, obviously saddened himself.
"'ts not fair! i see ya' maybe once a week, love bug, it's drivin' me fuckin' crazy!"
you hug him tight as he continues pounding into you, each word followed by an upset, feverish thrust.
"i know, it hurts me too, love.. i miss you every day, more than you know.. i miss you, and your arms, and your body, and your horns, and-"
"and being bounced like this in my lap, yeah? that what you miss the most, sweets?" he teases through a smirk, grabbing on to you almost possesively.
you laugh sweetly, pressing a kiss to his temple. "i do, i really do. but that's not what i miss the most. you, all of you, are what i miss the most"
suddenly, you let out a sigh, struggling to say your next words. "you know, that commissioner recently came to ask for my hand..."
you could practically hear his heart breaking as his thrusts slowed.
"oh, uh.." he cleared his throat, trying to mask his sadness, "congrats, love bug. you'll..." he swallows hard, his words physically hurting him.
"you'll be sucha good wife"
but not his wife, like you wanted to be. that thought was breaking your heart into a cajilion pieces.
"itto, i- i don't want to stop seeing you..." you choke out, "you know i'd go with you if i could"
"so then go with me!" he almost growls, a hint of irritation and fear in his voice. "come home with me, baby, i'll marry ya' instead. i'll let ya' pick out wherever to live and i'll give ya' as many little oni's as you'd like. hell, sweets, i'll retire from the gang if that's what you ask-"
you shut him up with a bittersweet kiss, tears streaming down your face as you're being bounced in his lap.
"i can't!" you cry, "i can't and it's killing me! i want that too, itto, i wanna run away and stay with you! but i can't, i can't and i'm gonna go crazy if we stop seeing each other because of my future husband!"
once again buried in your shoulder, itto continues rocking into you and groans. he's hiding your face, and you know why - he doesn't want you to see just how devastated he is.
"fuck, never gonna stop seein' ya', love bug.. never... and don't even give a fuck that you'll have to explain to your fuckin' husband why all your babies have horns, why each and every one of 'em looks nothin' like him..."
you laugh at his statement. you want to reply something, but all that comes out of your mouth is a moan of his name.
"yeah, that's right.. that's right, fuck, baby, yeah? not his name, yeah? not on his lap, not his face buried in these pretty tits, not coming around his dick, hm? yeah, yeah!"
you can do nothing but nod your head in agreement, way too absorbed by euphoria to form words.
"that's it, that's it sweets, yeah? 'ts okay, 'ts okay, baby, come. fuck, come around my dick, will ya'? come on your oni, make sure they all know that a demon fucked ya', that a demon none of them would get even close to stuffed ya' full, hm? wanna have you dripping at the thought of me as you marry him, yeah?"
you could hear the jealousy practically dripping from his words as he lost himself in his thrusts, hips eagerly chasing his high. you obey his command, reaching your peak and collapsing on his chest as you ride the waves of pleasure. the smell of sakura petals from his skin hits your nose, and suddenly, you never want to leave his perfectly, inescapably safe touches.
"ooohhh, fuckkkkk, baby..." he groans as he finally finds his release, shallowly thrusting into you as rope after rope of warmth fill your insides. after a few moments he stills, arms wrapped tightly around you.
you stay in his embrace the rest of the night, letting him peck at the skin of your shoulders and neck while you gently bite his beefy body. not a word was said, both of you far too afraid to speak. this might have been the last time you ever see each other, and neither of you wanted to ruin the comfortable afterglow of your love-making.
soon, the time of your return comes and you have to unwillingly unglue yourself from his arms. you get out of the spring, dressing back into your robe as you hand him a towel, your legs still slightly wobbly.
"goodbye, my oni" you say shakily, pressing a feathery kiss right above his lips.
"see you next week in here, sweets" he says, but he can't be certain of that - he can't be certain he'll ever see you again.
"yeah," you whisper, eyes full of tears, "see you, itto"
you turn around, leaving back to your estate with waterfalls of tears pouring down your cheeks. you could still faintly feel your grip on him as you lie alone in your bed, only the image of his crimson eyes and white mane running through your mind.
your oni. the man you love. the man who loves you, endlessly.
the demon you can't be with. because demons and pretty commissioner's daughters didn't go together in inazuma.
you sigh as you look out your window, your view spreading to the yashiori island, knowing your love was somewhere out there, asleep under the stars, probably dreaming of you. tears fill your eyes once more as you look around your room, the supplies you collected over the past few weeks lying readily.
soon, you'd escape, and run away to itto. you weren't giving up on him, and you begged all seven archons for him not to give up on you, too.
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kleftiko · 11 months
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❦ IF YOU’LL LET ME
cw: mature, early seasons spencer, loss of virginity, soft sex, fem!reader, praise, mentions of alcohol
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“hey, spence. it’s late.”
his eyes dart down to your chest, words stuck in his throat but you don’t seem to mind. instead you continue to dab your shirt, holding open the door and turning your back as you head in to allow him to follow you into your hotel room.
the plush duvet folds under your weight as you sit on the bed, spencer stands awkwardly eyeing the table beside the fridge.
“you were drinking?” he asks.
you chuckle a bit and motion to your wet shirt. “i was trying, but the mini bar had other ideas.”
his nimble fingers pick up the small bottle, briefly glancing over the label before bringing it to his nose and grimacing at the smell.
“didn’t know you like whiskey.” he says.
“spencer.” you lean back on your hands, eyes trailing over his lanky frame and combed back hair. “what are you doing here?”
“am i not welcome?”
“you’re always welcome,” you shake your head. “if you let me know why. we’re flying back home in the morning, something bothering you?”
spencer attempts to place the bottle back on the table, but his clumsy fingers knock it over, causing a disruptive sound to ricochet through the room as the glass comes in contact with the wood. he awkwardly tries to catch it, placing it back up right and taking his hands far away from it.
the boy’s gaze moves back towards you, his mouth opening to answer your question when he looks back down at your chest and flushes, turning his head towards the door.
“don’t you want to change your shirt?” he asks.
the dark fabric clings to your skin, highlighting your silhouette and putting your tits on display.
“it’s my room.” you say and stand up. he doesn’t look towards you.
“i can’t imagine wet fabric that reeks of alcohol being preferred to a clean and warm shir—“
“—spence.” you cut him off, standing in front of him. “what’s wrong?”
his focus flickers to your face for a split second.
“nothing is wrong, i just… i was thinking…”
your instinct is to pull a joke at his words, but with his demeanour you could tell this was really bugging him, so you refrain.
“about?” you prompt softly.
“you…” his fingers travel back to the mini whiskey bottle, tinkering with it. “i’ve been thinking of you a lot lately…”
you couldn’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.
“you have?” it comes out in a soft tone, and spencer nods. “what about me?”
you had an idea as to what has been bugging spencer. with the warm weather finally making a comeback, morgan has been going on his yearly appreciation rants about spring break. women having fun and warm weather we’re two of his favourite things, the sex that usually leads to that was just a bonus.
everyone figured spencer hadn’t had an experience like that, not having gone through the typical childhood, after all. and it didn’t take a room full of profilers to notice the way his eyes stayed on you for a second longer than everyone else.
spencer sighs.
“morgan said i should just go for it.” he mumbles.
you take a step closer to him, looking up through your lashes at his handsome face. “i agree with him.”
you see his adam’s apple bob from a harsh gulp.
“can—can i kiss you?” he whispers.
you nod your head.
and his lips are soft. spencer is so gentle and awkward as he kisses you that it’s you who grabs his hands and guides them to your hips. it seems he has a hard time touching you and kissing you at the same time, alternating between the two every few seconds and setting a choppy pace. you feel him start to get angry with himself at not being able to do both at once.
you pull away. “it’s okay, spencer.”
“i’m sorry, i’m new to this.” he rambles quickly and you giggle, taking his hand and pulling him to sit on the bed.
you take the place next to him and look into his eyes, bringing his hand back to your waist.
“you can do whatever you want.” you give him permission.
his hands start to wander your body. those curious fingers that clumsily knocked over the whiskey now exploring the curves of your body. his focus followed his hands, and you watch his face, smiling at the look of wonder on his face as his touch travelled higher up.
when they reach your face, his hands cup your jaw and he pulls you slowly towards him. you hum softly into his mouth, getting lost in his gentleness.
it’s not longer before you find yourself pressed up against his body, enjoying your own exploration of him until you come down to his pants.
“do you want to continue?” you ask him after feeling his hard on.
spencer gulps a bit, but nods. “please, if you’ll let me.”
you smile at him and move back, finally taking off your wet shirt, his eyes once again zone in on your chest. he reaches out a tentative hand, and when he doesn’t get a slap on the wrist he touches your skin.
it gives him a surge of confidence and he goes back to kiss you. the make out session staying slow but heating up as you two began to undress each other, both looking with wonder at each other’s bare bodies.
you find him mounted on top of you as you lay on the soft duvet, his fingers between your legs as he listens to the noises you make.
“how are you so good at this?” you gasp, eyes screwed shut.
“the clitoris has over 10 000 nerve endings, more than any other part of your—”
you kiss him, not meaning to shut him up but you just couldn’t help it, he was too cute.
he lets out a small whine when you pull away from him, and you can’t help but coo as you grab a packet from the nightstand.
“don’t worry, spence, it’s not over.”
he breaths a sigh of relief, allowing you to roll the condom onto him before you fall onto your back again.
“are you sure about this?” he asks, grabbing the base of his dick to line up with you. you nod.
“please, spencer, if you’ll let me.”
your eyes close in content as he fills you up.
“you feel so good.” you mumble, and he pulls back a bit to thrust softly.
you don’t hold back on noises, wanting spencer to feel confident that he’s doing a good job.
“w-wow.” he gasps.
“i know, baby, i know.” you reach your hand up to card through his hair. “you’re doing so good.”
he picks up the pace again, breaths becoming heavy as he gets the hang of making himself feel good.
you feel him going quick, muttering about being close as you tell him, “you’re making me feel so good, spencer. please cum, i want you to feel good, too.”
he groans your name, voice catching in his throat as he cums into the condom, but he doesn’t stop. you hear his pained noises of over stimulation as he continues his thrusting.
“spencer, what are you doing?” you ask, a bit concerned.
“you didn’t cum. ‘need to make you feel good, too.” he mumbles.
“oh, baby, no.” you go to kiss his lips, drawing his attention away from thrusting as he melts into you. “you made me feel so good already, this night is about you.”
“but—”
“—no buts.” you give him another kiss. “lay down with me now, you need rest.”
you can tell he wants to argue some more, but his body betrays him, falling into your embrace as you hold him.
“you did so good, spencer.” you reassure him, fingers in his hair as you coax him to relax.
“i did?” he asks, tone unbelieving.
you kiss his forehead. “so, so good.”
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siempre-bucky · 1 year
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hi!!! i love your writing so much! could i request (for blurb weekend) 12 and 42 from the first prompt list, for hangman?? tysm, hope you have a great weekend <3
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
Summary: The team is traveling to a spring getaway upstate and when you notice the wildflowers in full bloom you ask a grumpy Jake to pull over.
twelve: rolling down the window of the car
forty two: realising their feelings
WC: 964
A/n: I hope you like it!!!!
Join my blurb weekend!
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He called him Slow Ride for a reason. Jake had been following behind the bronco for a good five miles with no way to pass on the busy highway. The blond had a grip so tight on the steering wheel his knuckles were turning white; he’d rip the wheel clean off if it weren’t for you beside him. Your giggles weren’t for the video you were looking at, you were laughing at him. 
Mav and Ice had the bright idea to rent a cabin or two up north and let their team relax in the fresh spring air. Jake agreed it was a good idea in the beginning; go on a couple of hikes with his best friend, tease Natasha and Callie about the bugs, and shove Bradley into the lake (a few times). He just wanted to get there—not stuck behind Bradshaw. 
“Your face is going to freeze that way,” you teased from the passenger seat, shimmying to make yourself comfortable in his truck. You shifted your gaze in time to see him release his death drip, the color returning to his strong hands. A victorious smile graced your lips, Jake frowned deeper. “What’s wrong with you, Grumpy? You were all giddy and shit when you picked me up this morning.” 
“Jus’ want to get there,” he sighed, taking one hand off the wheel to scrub his face in an attempt to shake it off. 
You rolled your eyes, you’d always thought he could learn a thing or two from Rooster. Stop and smell the roses, the whole nine yards! For as long as you’d known your friend he was always moving at a fast pace, not taking the time to rest. He was just as fast on land as he was in the air. While in your thoughts, you looked out the freshly washed window and watched the lush green hills come toward you. Spring has been kind to them. 
The green became spotted with bright purples and oranges as they came closer into view. Your lips parted in awe, it was wildflower season. “Jake!” You exclaim suddenly, jolting in your seat and turning your attention to the passenger side window. The flowers were coming and you didn’t want to miss a moment. 
“What!” He gasped, looking down at his gauges. Did he hit something? Was he getting a flat tire? Smoke? The aviator within him switched on, pressing buttons to quickly check everything and not hit the Bronco in front of him. His heart started to thump in his chest, not my baby, he thought about the beloved black pickup. The panic turned into annoyance like he was splashed with ice water. 
“Roll down the windows!” You instruct, blindly slapping at his arm. 
A long string of curses left his lips but he yielded and soon enough the floral breeze entered the cabin. You breathed it in, turning your nose up to the air. Jake lightly pressed on the brake, giving Rooster more room. Letting out a sigh, you looked over to see Jake looking back at you. You noticed the way his hair blew in the wind without any gel in it and how the sun hit his features just right. His green eyes looked prettier than the hills in the sun. Then he smiled and a sudden pang hit your heart. You never noticed his smile when he was relaxed. 
Oh. 
You ignored the feelings and memories that all started to connect and looked out at the hills, noticing a flat area up ahead. “Pull over! We should look at the flowers, they won’t be like this for long!” 
“We’ll lose them,” he complained, fighting back a childish whine. Your eyes narrowed as did his, locked in a bitter battle. 
“We have GPS,” you stated evenly, shifting towards him. “Don’t let Iceman—Admiral Kazanzky, US Pacific Fleet Commander find out you were mean to me on a bonding trip.” 
You baited him like a fish. 
His eyes narrowed more, “They underestimate you,” he deadpanned before loudly flipping on the blinker and pulling over to the side of the road. 
You hopped out of the truck and it felt like the opening to The Sound of Music. You twirled in the wildflowers, letting the breeze hit your face as you stopped in the middle of the small field. There were a few others, lying in the flowers and taking photos. As they should, you thought to yourself. 
Jake grumbled to himself as he got out and stepped over the wood barricade dividing the road and the grass. He sent a text to Javy letting him know about the detour as he walked through the field, being mindful of the delicate orange flowers below him. He looked up just in time to see you trip over something and fall onto your back. “Shit,” he whispered, picking up the pace. 
He calmed once he heard your giggles, he let out a breath and looked down, covering you from the sun. “How can you fly a plane but not walk?” he teased, holding out his hand to help you up. You rolled your eyes and stood, slightly falling into his space from the pull. 
Jake looked at you as you stepped back, noticing your smile and the few blades of grass stuck in your hair. Absentmindedly, he reached and gently pulled them out for you. Your eyes opened wider and your eyebrows creased in subtle shock. His gaze focused, seeing you amongst the beauty of spring. “You’d be surprised at what I can do,” you joked, bending down to pick up one of the orange flowers, holding it out to him as you returned to full height. 
His eyes never left you. He took the flower and a rosy blush overtook his cheeks. 
Oh.
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v-ternus · 7 months
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*that* SwissDew video
So ughhhhhhhh, yall saw that right?!?!? Anyways. It made me start thinking. And then my brain did some thinking with @iamthecomet And our combined thinking has now left me with 1.5k words of nasty.
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explicit | princess dew | daddy swiss | handjob | forcedfem |dressing room quickie | breeding | idk what else |
Under the cut for your reading pleasure :)
The stage lights barely have a chance to dim before Swiss is herding Dew backstage, hand on his back, planted firmly.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dew snarls as he’s accidentally shoved into the shoulder of an unsuspecting techie. Swiss swings his head back to mumble a half-assed apology, only to keep moving forward. He doesnt dignify the question with a response beyond plastering a shit-eating grin across his face.
The rest of the walk back to the dressing room goes by quickly and Dew is practically thrown in right as he turns the doorknob. He tries to find his balance but his boots catch on a part of the scrunched up carpet and it sends him to the floor. He falls hard, dropping all of his weight onto his knees. He’s sure they’ll be black and blue by the end of the night.
Swiss closes the door behind them and postures himself right in front of Dew. 
“Infront of everyone?” Dew grits through his question, jaw clenched at the disaster that Swiss could’ve caused.
Swiss brings a hand up to cradle Dew’s face and coos as he thumbs across his heated cheeks. “Dont pretend like you didnt like it bug.” Dew has no rebuttal. Because of course he liked it—
He liked the way Swiss’ hand splayed over his hip and waist in an attempt to hold him steady while his other hand gripped his cock. He liked when Swiss dug his fangs into his tense flesh.
He especially liked the way the fans cheered as he was gropped in front of them all.
He’s been hard since then, struggling to play his parts with each second that passed by. He almost missed his cues because he couldnt walk without his guitar rubbing against him.
Dew is pulled out of his head when Swiss drops himself down to his knees, loosely interlacing his legs with Dew’s. His free hands falls to the front of Dew’s uniform and palms at his crotch. Dew looks down and the sight makes him whine. Swiss’ hand covers up so much of his lap. Its as if they both thought the same, cause Dew swears he heard Swiss laugh. 
“Stop teasing bitch,” he tries to sound unamused, aggressive even. But he fails. His voice wavers as Swiss squeezes his throbbing cock particularly harder. 
“But its fun to watch you like this,” Swiss says as he kneads at Dew. They both know he could be meaner, mean enough to leave Dew achingly hard and alone, but thats not what Swiss wants right now.
He palms at Dew for a mere moment longer before he finally starts unlacing his pants. He works the garments down just enough for Dew’s cock to spring up towards his vest, the ruddy tip spreading his slick across the delicate velvet.
Swiss drags a finger along the short length, tracing along the vein that runs on the underside, stopping at the spot right under the head. He makes Dew hiss when he presses against down and watches as a bead of pre wells up at the tip.
“You’re an asshole.” Swiss chuckles again, loving the way Dew squirms and protests under his touch. “I know.”
He gives Dew no time to adjust— he just sends things from zero to a hundred. The teasing and feather light touches turn into a warm hand completely wrapping around his cock and slowly stroking from root to tip. The pleasure is a relief, and he makes sure to share his enjoyment. Breathy moans freely fall from his lips and they sound like music to Swiss' ears.
“You sound so pretty Dew.” Swiss sounds like he means every word.
“Fuck you.”
Swiss tightens his grip before tutting his disappointment. His eyes cast over Dew with a stern, cold look on his face. “That’s a bit rude isnt it?” Dew tries to ignore the game Swiss is playing at.
“But I think I'm feeling really generous right now princess,” 
“Dont call me that.” Anything but that, Dew thinks.
Swiss brings his free hand up to thumb at the base of one of Dew’s horns. Its nice, nice enough that a low purr rumbles through him. But whatever softness he was basking in goes up in flames as Swiss uses said horn to wrench his head back. His neck bends at an unnatural angle and he feels exposed. 
“Shh baby, Daddy knows what’s best, doesnt he?” Swiss’ voice drips thick, laced with poison that floods Dew’s bloodstream.
Swiss leans forward to rest his forehead against Dew’s.
A sinister smile creeps over Swiss’ face as he moves his grip to wrap around Dew’s dick and balls. Much to Dew's displeasure, he squeezes. Really squeezes. And hell it fucking hurts. Tears threaten to fall from the corners of Dew's eyes. He winces and tries to pull himself backwards, away from the pain. But all it does is tug against his already tender groin. 
“Here’s how this is going to work baby,” Dew breathes through the pain and focuses on the deep voice weaving into his hazy mind. He listens to the sounds of sin and depravity and it reminds him of all of their other nights spent like this– Swiss just taking him apart, putting him through the thick of it until he has proper streaks of tears working down his chiseled features. 
“You get to cum whenever you’re ready,” Dew’s breath hitches, sensing a trap. There’s gotta be a catch to this. Dew manages to make eye contact and he’s surprised by what stares back at him. The golden eyes trained on him have suddenly gone soft, donning a warmer, less threatening gaze. Had it been any other night, it would be endearing, but tonight, its nothing better than a threat.
“You just gotta fuck this cute little clit into my fist, how’s that sound Princess?” 
There it is.
Dew nods mindlessly. Says anything and agrees to it all, just to get the crushing grip away from his jewels.
“Yeah… whatever. Fuck, just let go.” Having finally gotten his answer, Swiss’ hand withdraws and returns with a kinder touch. This time, the hand moves to cup Dew’s balls. He rolls them gently, tugs at them just enough to make Dew groan before backing off again. 
“Are you ready princess?” There’s that fucking word again. Swiss doesn't wait for a response, he just sits up, and holds his fist right over Dew’s achingly red dick. Dew takes what's offered and rocks his hips up. The sound he lets out is embarrassing at best— a high, feminine moan that shoots from Swiss’ ears, straight down to his cock. He's now pressed up tight against the seam in his underwear.
Dew keeps rocking, chasing his release so that this can all just be over. The filthy wet noises he's making between them fill the otherwise hushed room.
He can't stop himself from listening to Swiss whisper how pretty he gets like this, or how he cant wait to get back to the hotel so he can dress him up in that lingerie set Aether had bought.
Swiss feels Dew's cock kick at the mere mention of Aether, he files that away for a later date.
“You want me to breed you nice and good after this Dewy? I’ll fill you with my kits, you’d be so full.”
“Shut up,” Dew groans. “Shut up and just let me finish.” His eyes screw up tight and he tries to think of anything else besides Swiss’ words, but it's a futile attempt. The words flash across his mind and echo in his ears. 
Swiss can feel how close he is, he can feel each twitch of Dew’s cock when his thrusts press him into Swiss’ hand just right. Dew starts to lose his pace, thrusts quickly becoming uncoordinated ad his breathing becomes more and more ragged.
Swiss watches his quickly pitiful moves and decides to help him out. He starts to jerk him off, doing his best to match the pace of his hips so that his fist bottoms out at the top of his thrusts.
“Are you close my love?” Swiss presses his lips against the side of his mate's face, breathes in his scent, warm and burnt, and presses a kiss to his temple. He hears a pleased hum and knows that this is his chance.
"Whenever you're ready Dewy." Dew tries to speak. He tries to find the words-- any words-- that could describe this moment. But his brain just wont seem to work. All he can do is pant and feel each decadent, wet glide of Swiss' hand over the swollen head of his cock.
"Close. -m close,"
“Go ahead and squirt all over daddy’s hand,” Swiss surprises even himself with how he was able to say the words.
Something inside Dew unravels. He surges forward, digs his claws into Swiss’ sides as he cums. They watch as milky ropes of his spend stripe over Swiss' hand.
Swiss works him through his orgasm, lightly stroking until his cock is drained of all he has to give. He only stops when Dew twitches from overstimulation.
Some of his cum drips down to the floor and Swiss groans in disappointment. There's always next time.
The multi ghoul leans forward and crashes his lips into Dew's. The kiss is lazy and there's no sense of urgency to go along with it. They just kneel in the middle of the room, and lap at whatever parts they can reach.
Swiss pulls back and catches an eyeful of Dew’s puffy red lips and the blissed out look across his face.
“You were so good for me princess.”
Dew feels his cock make a feeble attempt at filling out again– princess.
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Can I request a Loki, Poseidon, Thor, x Shinobu!M!Reader (KNY). M!Reader hides behind a facade when really he’s extremely angry all the time and acts all cheery and happy which can easily be changed when provoked. He’s also physically weak but makes up for it for his incredible speed and knowledge in poison. (Plus his bug-like eyes which can be unsettling at times since he has no pupils.)
Loki basically taunting him when they’re put up against each other. But M!reader gives it to him when he injects him with a poison that he’s been working on, enough to kill a god. That alone awakens his Yandere tendencies because it’s surprising that such a small and weak human can bring a god to his knees in sheer pain. Wonder how our M!reader will feel after this draw especially since he feels like he’s being watched even in his sleep.
Poseidon is unimpressed when he’s put up against this meek and small mortal who he sees as an annoying bug in his presence. Ironic that this annoying bug practically bested him in speed and even had the audacity to pollute his divine blood with poison that is shockingly effective. He’s at first in denial when the match ends in a draw but then slowly this mortal squeezes his way into his cold heart when he sees him training as he moves gracefully like a butterfly in spring.
Thor is kinda bored at first when he first sees the human he’s up against but also amused by this man’s seemingly kind smile. And boy is this god of thunder surely surprised by this humans raw agility and power of that blade he wields which is oddly shaped. He’s excited but it’s not visible until this man injects him with an odd substance… poison, an interesting choice of weapon yet this particular poison is even strong enough to bring this man almost to his knees now he’s absolutely obsessed which doesn’t end when the match ends in a draw.
Y E S, I HAVEN'T WRITTEN MUCH X MALE! READERS IN THE PAST SO LET ME KNOW WHAT I NEED TO IMPROVE ON BUT LET'S GET INTO IT-
Yandere! Loki, Poseidon, Thor + Male! Shinobu! Reader
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Yandere! Loki:
- Yeah, no, he was VERY unassuming of you at first. Honestly, he thought that you were adorable because you could be very unsettling when you wanted to be...to other humans at least. Not to Loki, however, since he's a God and you're still a mere human.
- He also made fun of things like your height (even if you are taller than him, he will float higher than you bc he's annoying like that), your weak physique, and your inability to ever properly fight a demon and nevermind a God like him. It was also quite funny to see how upset you got when he made such comments, he's not gonna lie, you're really quite handsome when you look like you want to rip his throat from his body♡
- But then when he was about to finish you off, he winced and fell to the side, a sneaky cut you made that was lined with your special God killer poison. Everything felt like it was in agony, his body unable to support itself and he stumbled to get up. He didn't know what was happening but when your angered glare turned into a cruel and cold smile, he felt shivers down his spine.
- Your battle ended up being paused, because your poison was strong but you sadly hadn't put in enough to fully kill him. Close but not close enough, it seemed. When he recovers, the first thing he'll remember is your face when you saw him die. You were so callous and cold: he knew that your nicer more "gentle" side was more of a facade but seeing that smug joy in your eyes, that genuine smug victorious glint, made his heart skip a beat.
- You will feel watched and you will never feel alone again, not in a good way either. When you walk by yourself to clear your head, you feel eyes stalking you but you keep your chin up and your gaze unbothered. Letters will appear at your door, appearing to look like a love letter but when you read it, it's more of a confession of a crime with how the writer so proudly admits to watching and admiring you. You weren't scared until you realized things in your room when missing and even when you had Brunhilde take the appropriate security measures, the empty spot right next to you would still feel warm.
- You suspect and confront Loki right away, after all, he is the only person- erm, God- creepy enough to do something like this. And he's so delighted when you confront him and the most disturbing part is that he admits to it, with no shame or hesitation...which disturbs you the most about the situation. When you ask him why he's done this, after you tried to KILL him, he just shrugs and holds your hand: "Because you make my heart feel things that it isn't supposed to feel for humans. You're so charming, (Y/n)~"
Yandere! Poseidon:
- No because you're definetly right, he believes it's fitting that you based your breathing technique around an insect because in his eyes. that's all you and other humans were. Meek little insects who had no right to go against the God's like this.
- However, you changed his opinion entirely when you managed to poison him. And not in a good way, arrogant humans like you are what MADE humanity so despicable to him. That bitter smile that was a borderline scowl on your face as you DARED to look him in his eyes with such a victorious expression. He LOATHED it. Luckily, you were just as incompetent as the rest of your race because the poison you gave him did do damage but not enough to kill him.
- You plauged his mind like a disease, however. Polluting every thought in his mind with images of you, of your previous battle. It was disgusting to him, you disgusted him. At least that was what he originally thought until after another restless night of being unable to sleep because of you, he went the garden and heard you training and he became INFATUATED to say the least.
- You were graceful yet powerful in your moves, despite how much weaker you were compared to other Hashira, but your speed and agility as you moved interested him to say the least. When you felt eyes watching you, you turned around and gave him a small yet strained smile as you asked him how his recovery was going. He glared at you and walked off.
- You had to have poisoned him with something else during your fight, YOU HAD TOO. He doesn't believe that he can ever develop feelings for a mortal like YOU, surely you did this to him on purpose? But why? It must be...because you want him to love you, right? This man will LITERALLY blame YOU for his crazed obsession because he won't accept the fact that he has fallen in love with a human.
- So when you wake up and see that you're in his room, his eyes clouded with madness and infatuation, he doesn't understand why you act so surprised. After all, you contaminated his thoughts and his heart. You've poisoned him with your love like you wanted too, right? So why won't you let him poison you with his?
Yandere! Thor:
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- Thor is very smart, don't get me wrong, but he IS a brute. When he fights, he expects weaponry or at least hand to hand combat and when you, a mere man already weak in stature, poison him. He finds it cowardly, just like the rest of humanity. However
- I personally feel like he'd become obsessed with something else. When he's on his knees, coughing blood, he looks up at you and sees you smiling at him. A small smile of fake kindness and malicious intent, your unsettling eyes dripping with rage and disgust, but more importantly: it was your anger. That's when he starts to appreciate your method.
- He could sense it from you. The rage you hold in your heart. The bloodlust you have towards the Gods. Even though you were human, you had a divine and righteous anger and he saw all of it in your eyes. He wanted to see it, he wanted to be destroyed by it. After seeing your anger, the blood he's coughing up tastes just a little more sweeter.
- He gets shivers when you bend down and take his chin with your hand, tilting your head and letting out a small hum that was supposed to feign sympathy as you said: "Oh, you poor God. Painful, isn't it? Fun fact, this is just a taste of how I died. All of you Gods galavanted up here while my comrades and I all died like this to protect humanity from demons, and now you want to wipe us out? No. I don't think so."
- And when he didn't die, you were obviously dissapointed but he wasn't, because then he could see you again. Much like how he showed Lu Bu his smile in their battle, you showed him your rage and he was obsessed to see it again. He envies the people back in your time who got to watch you fight. You weren't able to do much because of your size, so you resulted to methods that fit you and would help you destroy your enemies.
- It makes him appreciate you, for such a weak and fragile looking man, you turned yourself into a weapon. Sacrificing everything during battle when you had too and releasing your fury and wrath to your enemies. He no longer thinks of it was a cowardly move because you didn't fight with poison, you fought with all of yourself that you could muster.
- However, when he sees the toll that you took from him during your battle, he realizes that all great weapons should be well kept for all to admire, but never to use again because they had already done their duty. In Thor's eyes, you gave enough for humanity, so instead of risking it and giving yourself to battle...why not just give yourself to him?
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