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earthtooz · 3 months

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x : TO LOVE, TO CHANGE: *+ﾟ

in which: you tell veritas you love him. he gets upset with you.

warnings: contrary to what the synopsis implies, it's fluff, i promise. 1k words, first time saying ily, slightly cranky reader, no mentions of reader's gender, dr. ratio being so in love he becomes so soppy and lovestruck. confessions.

a/n: there's a phenomenon that happens whenever i write for dr. ratio, and it's that my heart literally lunges out of my chest and begins typing at the keyboard for me. i should get it checked out. anyways, this is to preemptively celebrate his release!!

“Why- why are you mad?” You exclaim, watching the way Veritas crosses his arms and pouts with the petulance of a child. His gaze has strayed away from your eyes, and all you can do is sit in his lap with your arms hanging at your sides, brain tirelessly racking for all the reasons that you could have angered him.

He doesn’t give you any clues, displeasure brewing in his eyes instead.

“Is it because I said ‘I love you’?”

The purple haired scoffs and sticks up his nose, hair bouncing with his actions whilst you jostle slightly on his legs from the quick action. As much as you love his side profile, you’d love it even more if he spoke to you about what is bothering him.

During this moment, the world stills. You think he’s genuinely mad, and Dr. Ratio’s fury-driven state is not something you should take lightly. Really, you’ve seen it multiple times, and though it has never been directed at you, you hope it never will be. Which is why you sit on his lap now, tensely anticipating his response, and for the answer as to what you did wrong.

“I was meant to say it first,” he grumbles, losing the arrogance that fills his tone whenever he speaks, air filling with sincerity.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I was meant to be the one to say ‘I love you’ first.”

Your confusion is tangible at this point. Audible, if you will, because it rings like cicada sing. “Are you being serious?”

“Deadly.”

“You- why, then couldn’t you just have said it?” You sputter, slapping his defined deltoid, concern slowly melting into frustration. “Need I remind you that it was me who confessed to you first as well?”

“Yes, and it was positively the best day of my life.” He says that like it’s a simple fact. No sentiment, no heartfelt declaration, just another logical statement straight from a textbook of his life.

They say to be loved is to be changed, but no matter how much you love Veritas, all he knows is how to be an astronomical pain in your ass. Does he know how scared you were for his answer? You thought you did something unforgivable, or that he didn’t love you enough to respond in kind, or worst of all, that he wanted nothing to do with you anymore?

However, he's acting petty because he was not the first one to say those three words? You frankly don’t know why your heart beats for him as strongly as it does. In fact, you want to whack him over the head with his own codex.

Placing your hands firmly on his shoulders, you shuffle out of your position from his lap, planting your feet onto the ground. “Oh, you are so infuriating! Pretend I never said anything, I’m going back to my office until you-”

Not even two steps away from him and a hand clasps around your wrist to drag you back to where you started: on Dr. Ratio’s lap. His arms come to wrap around you like chains, leaving no room to wrestle him out.

“I never said you could leave. Especially not after telling me you love me,” he grumbles lowly into your collarbone, breath tickling your skin.

“I’m starting to regret it.”

“Can’t you at least say it again?”

“I don’t want to,” you grumble, arms snaking up to rest around his shoulders. “You don’t deserve it.”

“Well, that’s a little harsh. Is this how you treat the ones you love?”

“You haven’t even said anything back,” you pinch his skin. “Talk about harsh.”

“Do you remember the first time we met?” he asks with a fond chuckle, not missing the opportunity to leave kisses in a trail along your skin, making his way up your neck. Then, when his eyes meet yours, you almost crumble in embarrassment at the memory he’s injected into your mind.

You push him away and raise a hand to shield your eyes from him, clearly reliving a haunting memory. “Please don’t remind me.”

“Y’know, it’s not everyday someone gets to scold me and be right. If you weren’t so beautiful, I wouldn’t have let it slide, but it’s not everyday a gorgeous genius falls into my lap with guts to challenge me.”

“I was… agitated that day, so stop talking about it, please. In fact, for my sake, please just forget that moment. Completely.”

“Forget about it? Completely?” The scholar asks with genuine shock lacing his tone. “I fell in love with you in that very moment, how can you expect me to stop talking about it? You rendered me a fool in love and expect me to not think about the very moment it happened? Sweetheart, it was a pivotal moment of my life!”

“Not pivotal enough if you can’t even say ‘I love you, too’.”

“On the contrary, I have loved you longer. I yearned for you in wakefulness and in my dreams. I wished for you to look my way, and when you did, I never wanted your eyes to stray from me. How heartbreaking it was when they did.” His hand has snuck under your shirt now to rub circles on your skin. If he detached from you, he fears you’d slip away from him, and the worst thing you can give him is space. “Do you know how it felt chasing after you because you were the only one out of my reach? For three years, the only thing I wanted was to be yours. You made me an idiot.”

Stunned by his confession and the weight of it, you let him continue, sharp tongue softening. The only motivation you offer is a hand coming to cup his cheek, tucking aside his bangs so you can see his expression in its entirety.

His gold eyes shine when they look back up at you. For the first time, you feel like you’re seeing the parts of him that Veritas hides from everyone else.

“I love you.” He continues with heart wrenching devotion. “I’ll continue loving you until the streams stop, the rivers freeze, and the oceans dry. With three hundred thousand, eighty-three thousand, five hundred and seventy-one discovered planets in the cosmos, that phenomenon will approximately take-”

You seal his lips with yours in a gentle kiss, cradling his jaw and swallowing his words. Like wax to fire, Veritas sinks into you, completely helpless against your affections.

But, oh, you love him, and nothing else in the entire universe matters.

#earthtooz: honkai star rail #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff

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kittythelitter · 1 year

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Thinking about Steve getting disowned by his parents.

And he's talking to Eddie and Eddie calls him "Steve fucking Harrington." And Steve's like. "I'm not a Harrington anymore :( They took everything from me including my name." And he was like. Understandably sad about his name and his identity and the fact that his parents don't love him and all that.

And Eddie. In an attempt to cheer him is all flirty and offers his own name up for Steve to use. Steve sad laughs and says that if Eddie wants to propose he needs to do better than that.

While they're having this conversation Dustin is lurking and hears this and is outraged that Eddie thinks he can just. Give Steve his name without earning it. Steve should be a Henderson. He's basically Dustin's brother already.

Dustin complains about this to Will in front of Joyce and Joyce is like. Not if i can adopt him first.

Will mentions it to Lucas and Erica is like. Bitch he should be honored to be a Sinclair! And she tells her friends about it in front of Robin who's like. Excuse me. We are twins. He needs to be a Buckley.

Meanwhile Lucas mentioned it to Max and she's always down to compete with Dustin and also. Steve is her brother too asshat.

She complains to El about it. Hopper overhears and is like. Steve is disowned? Where's he living? I already adopted one kid in the past few years what's another.

Over the course of the next week everyone has decided that Steve is their family and he should live with them and/or take their last name.

They're all getting together just because they're all a bit codependent and need to get all together every few weeks or else they all start worrying.

Steve and Eddie are running late for whatever reason. (overslept. Steve's trying to do his hair. Steve found Eddie's 5-in-1 doesn't really matter except Steve and Eddie are together and Steve's been staying at Eddie and Wayne's new government issued house.)

By the time they arrive everyone is bickering, varying from Hopper quietly saying that Joyce already has two kids wouldn't it be better for Steve to have a parent who can give him more attention, to Max and Robin having a silent standoff to Erica and Dustin fully wrestling on the ground biting and scratching.

And Steve's like. "HEY! What the fuck is going on?"

And no one wants to admit how wild they've all gone in fighting to adopt Steve. So there's this awkward beat of silence before Dustin and Robin both break down and yell at Steve that he's their family and he should take their respective last name.

Steve is so overwhelmed he starts crying. And almost none of them have seen him cry. Like. Nancy and Robin. Maybe. And only when he's been pushed to his limit.

So everyone's like. Did we break him? Did we offend him? Did we accidentally remind him of his pain?

And he's just. Never felt this loved before.

Maybe he chooses one. Maybe he chooses all of them into a really long string of names. Maybe they develop some kind of elaborate competition to decide who earns Steve as family. Maybe there's some kind of rotation in place. Tbh I'd love to hear other people's ideas.

But I do know that the day it becomes legal, Steve's last name and Eddie's last name become the same. Maybe it's a hyphen. Maybe Eddie charges his name to Buckley-Byers-Henderson-Hopper-Mayfield-Sinclair-Wheeler (alphabetical was decided to be the most fair).

And no matter what Steve is so so loved and everyone makes sure he knows it.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve and robin are platonic soulmates #Steddie #dustin henderson #eddie munson

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fiendishfables · 29 days

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I would love to see this- Lucifer is the strongest entity in Hell, and it turns him on like nothing else when his lover wrestles him for dominance. He will go straight up feral over that.

Lucifer Morningstar wrestling his S/O for dominance...

Headcanons + Drabble

warnings: nsfw, hints at degradation, mentions of blood, biting, scratching, power-dynamics, rough(er) love

words: 806

a/n: I had way too much fun with this- thanks for this lovely, unique ask, I hope I did it justice! It was a bit difficult for my pee brain to come up with things to write, but the people need to be fed; here is your feast

✡ It's hot, its rough, and it's primal

✡ Ideally, Lucifer never tended to like it when anyone challenged his authority, no matter what over

✡ But if you, his lover, did so, he had the benefits of being able to take you however he pleased after you get the chide out of your system (with consent of course), knowing damn well how much it riles him up

✡ When the two of you wrestle, its almost like two wild animals, fighting for a meal that could very well end up being your last before a harsh winter rolls in

✡ It doesn't take long for his demon form to make an appearance during your steamy game, allowing him a decent advantage over your regular strength capabilities; you often call him out for 'cheating', but seeing him in such a feral state turns you on like nothing else

✡ You can feel him getting hard the first few minutes of your rough-housing, telling you all you need to know about how much he really enjoys doing things like this with you. His deep, guttural groans are hard to ignore, his wings flaring up as they batter your body with feather-light touches

✡ His claws and fangs are really coming out now. His claws are dug deep into your skin, leaving light (yet effective) scratches on your skin, as he watches the blood well up on the line of the cut, proceeding to then lean down and let his forked tongue lick off the excess mess his claws left behind

✡ Bite marks will litter your body, blood complimenting those areas as well. The stinging sensation they leave can not go unnoticed and they only help add to the different emotions you are feeling in the current moment

✡ Having someone to challenge him, both mentally and physically, gets him going; its admirably hot how you continue to protest that you could take him down if you wanted to, and he likes seeing that smug, confident smirk of yours turn to one of pure pleasure and ecstasy as he proves you wrong, over and over again

✡ Knowing he holds the most power possible for a being in any hellish realm, makes it all the more fun when you try and downgrade that title, even if just in the slightest bit; it's your own little game you like to play with one another, a common game of cat and mouse, or rather, Devil and prey

✡ Lucifer is ravaging your body, fully claiming you this time, letting you know that there is no one but himself that can hold this power over you; it reminds you that he will always be in charge one way or another, no matter how much you question

✡ In the long run though, you both love these feral moments in your relationship, getting to express your shared love for one another even in such a strange, somewhat brutal way

✡ He loves fighting for his right to dominate you, and he never fails to claim it.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The heavy panting and notable scent of sweat on the pair of your bodies seemed to go unnoticed, as the two of you were locked in both an intense staring contest, and a physical fight between your bodies; fingers were locked together, arms continually pushing at the other in an attempt to overthrow them. Your bare skin rubs against each other feverishly, his hard cock still buried deep within you from earlier.

"Do you really think you can overpower me in a battle for dominance, darling? I suggest you give in and just let your King take care of you."

His voice was smooth, soothing almost, aside from his heavy breaths filling your ears. He still sounded like an angel to you all the same.

A feral one.

The two of you had been at this now for a good half-n-hour, trying to secure your position as the dominant party in the sheets for the night, but Lucifer had you pinned underneath his own pale body at this point, using the enhanced strength from his demon form to keep you where you were.

The fight for dominance had been over just as soon as it had started; you both knew this from the beginning.

No matter if you were to be above or beneath him, he would always find a way to end out on top of it all, including yourself.

And by all the Gods, if that didn't make him even sexier in your eyes.

You would easily give yourself up to Lucifer whenever he wanted or needed you; there was no doubt about it and you both shared that same knowledge.

But maybe, if this is where challenging him for dominance got you, then you'd have to indulge in the action more often.

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hannyoontify · 4 months

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dream - yoon jeonghan

member | jeonghan x reader

genre | pure. teeth-rotting. fluff. js kie going through jeonghan brain rot

word count | 2.8k

synopsis | jeonghan pinches your cheek to remind you that this isn’t a dream

warnings | ass-grabbing?? but in a non-sexual way, lots of cheesy pick-up lines and flirting, reader and jeonghan are absolutely down bad for each other and it’s sickening

notes | my baby :((( i hope he feels better soon

Jeonghan’s eyes fluttered open as the pale sunlight seeped in through the bedroom window and curtains, casting bright rays of light onto the walls. Jeonghan could hear your soft, stable breathing next to him and rolled over to face your sleeping figure. You looked so peaceful asleep, your usual creases of worry were nowhere to be seen. Rather, it was replaced by a look of serenity and Jeonghan smiled endearingly as you wrinkled your nose in your sleep. He rubbed his eyes and draped a lazy arm over your waist, quietly watching you as you slept. He tried matching his breath with yours, but it only left him wheezing and breathless.

His eyes roamed around your face, starting from your soft lips that jutted out in your sleep. Your nose that Jeonghan loved to kiss. That small tear mole on your cheek that mirrored his own. He admired the swell of your cheeks and traveled up to your closed eyelids. Jeonghan’s eyes trailed back down to your lips, which now were slightly parted, revealing the slightest bit of your teeth. He leaned over to press a quick kiss to your lips, smiling against your lips. You stirred a bit, which startled Jeonghan, but remained asleep.

Jeonghan propped his head up with one hand, the other still draped over your waist, and watched you sleep, watching your chest rise and fall in a rhythmic pattern. After a while, (Jeonghan doesn’t really know how long it’s been–it could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours–he always had a horrible sense of time when it concerned you) your eyes opened and reached up above your head for a stretch.

“G’morning, sunshine.” Jeonghan whispered as you twisted around to get another stretch. Your hair was mussed and a mess, but he couldn’t care less.

“Morning, Hannie,” you mumbled as you scooched into his warm embrace. You pressed your face into his chest. “Were you watching me sleep?”

“Yeah.”

And although he couldn’t see your smile, he could hear it in your voice. “You’re such a creep.”

Jeonghan simply hummed and traced shapes on your back as you stayed in his warm embrace for just a little longer. You (unfortunately) pulled away and rubbed at your sleepy eyes and Jeonghan leaned over to press a kiss to your forehead.

“We need to make breakfast.” you muttered and threw the duvet off to get out of bed.

“Oh, no you’re not.” Jeonghan’s strong grip on your waist kept you from going anywhere, and he wrestled you back into a tight cocoon of blankets. “You’re staying here today. I’ll make breakfast.”

You didn’t respond and looked at Jeonghan with a delighted look, your eyes sparkling. Your husband’s cooking was always a delight–and a surprise. You never knew if you were gonna get a Michelin star worthy meal or a barely edible looking lump of burnt… something. But judging by the soft look in Jeonghan’s eyes, you had a feeling you were going to get the former today.

He reached over and pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, his warm hand cupping your cheek. The metal ring resting on his ring finger felt cold against your face, raising goosebumps on your skin. You smiled into the kiss and giggled as Jeonghan pulled away with a lovestruck look in his eyes. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

You felt your cheeks burning up at what he said and waved him away. “What’s with that cheesy line? We’ve been married for 5 years now, Hannie.”

“Exactly, and each day is better than the last.” Jeonghan pressed one last kiss on your forehead before disappearing into the hallway. You rolled your eyes at your cheesy husband and nestled into the blanket cocoon he stuck you in.

In the kitchen, Jeonghan was bustling about with a boyish grin stuck on his face. He loved doing these things for you; you were never an early bird and struggled to get out of bed and Jeonghan was always willing to do these things for you. After almost dropping two raw eggs and chipping a porcelain plate, your breakfast was ready to be served.

Just as Jeonghan was ready to bring a tray into your shared bedroom, you shuffled out, still wrapped up in the blanket wrap he had put you in earlier. The edges of the blanket dragged along the floor as you sauntered up to the kitchen island and looked at Jeonghan with an expectant smile.

“Breakfast is served.” Jeonghan tipped his non-existent top hat and grandly gestured to the plate he laid out in front of you. The smell of the toasting bagel was what had drawn you out of bed, and the food looked better than it smelled(? Did that make sense? You didn’t know but you really didn’t care because you were so damn hungry).

Leaning on the opposite of the kitchen island as you, Jeonghan watched you inhale the bagel slathered in cream cheese, a bit of the spread smeared on your cheek. He reached over and wiped it away with his thumb, which made you cover your face in embarrassment and he laughed.

Jeonghan loved these kinds of mornings with you, a slow start to your day with no responsibilities. He could lie in bed with you as much as he wanted and he could press gentle kisses on your soft lips as much as he wanted to.

He sighed and rested his head against his hand on the counter, his eyes full of endearment as he watched you enjoy your breakfast. You caught Jeonghan’s eye mid-bite and smiled sheepishly. “What?”

Jeonghan felt his own lips tugging up into a small smile. “Nothing, I just love you.”

He paused for a moment.

“And sometimes I wonder if this is all a dream. I get scared that I made all this up in my mind and I’ll wake up any second as the loser I was seven years before I met you.”

You frowned. “You weren’t a loser, baby. You just hadn’t hit your prime yet.”

“In my mid-20’s? Sure babe.”

“Baby, don’t talk about yourself like that. I know for a fact I didn’t fall in love with a loser,” You pouted with more cream cheese on your lips. Jeonghan grinned like a middle school boy falling in love for the first time. As he bent over to kiss it off your lips, you reached for his hand and rubbed a soothing thumb over the back of his knuckles, feeling and committing to memory, every groove and channel etched onto his hand leading to his slender fingers.

When Jeonghan pulled away, it was your turn to reach over and pinch his cheek. “Ow, what was that for?” Your husband pouted and rested both hands on the edge of the marble countertop, slightly bent over at the waist to maintain eye contact with you.

You smiled mischievously, but soon, the cheeky look in your eyes softened into an endearing one. “You felt that, right? I promise you, my love, this isn’t a dream.” You walked around the kitchen island and ducked under his arm to cage yourself between his body and the countertop.

In a much softer voice, you said, “If this was a dream, I wouldn’t be able to do this…” you wrapped your arms around his torso and squeezed tightly, pressing your face into his chest and inhaling the scent of his body wash and your laundry detergent. The smell of home. “Or this.”

You reached behind Jeonghan and grabbed a handful of his ass and squeezed. Hard.

“YOWCH!" Jeonghan rested his head on your shoulder and whined as you simply giggled into his chest. "Honey…”

It’s a languid and lazy afternoon; Jeonghan’s favorite kind. Even the weather seemed to act idle, the way the October sun hid itself in the clouds, refusing to reveal its face for the thousands of bustling people in the heart of Seoul.

Similar to the sun, you were also currently refusing to reveal yourself to Jeonghan. You hid your face in the sleeve of your sweater as Jeonghan whined. “Honey… it’s nothing to be embarrassed of! It happens to everyone. I wanna see your gorgeous face.”

You said something that was muffled by the fabric of your sweater and Jeonghan stopped walking to bend over to hear you better. “It’mmfs embarramffing.”

“What’s so embarrassing about a zit? I get them all the time!” Jeonghan said loudly, his chest puffed out with pride. It was your turn to whine this time as you hit his arm with a stifled giggle. Jeonghan’s face suddenly turned serious and he turned to face you. He gently pried your hands out of your face and held them in his own. “Baby, I love you and your face just the way that they are. No amount of zits or acne or bug bites is ever gonna change that. Okay? So let me see your absolute drop dead gorgeous face.”

You couldn't help but smile at his heart-warming ment and Jeonghan immediately brought a hand to his heart and pretended to faint. “They’re too lovely! Catch me, I think I’m falling for you!”

You couldn’t hide your groan this time as Jeonghan slumped into your arms dramatically, imitating the flatlining sound of a heart monitor. “You’re the corniest person I’ve ever met.”

Jeonghan looked up from his place in your eyes and flashed you a blinding smile. “But you love it.”

“I would beg to differ.”

“Baby!”

After lots of consoling and reassuring (and kisses), you were able to convince Jeonghan that you did, indeed, love his corny pick-up lines, and stand upright again to continue your late afternoon stroll in the neighborhood park.

Hand in hand, the two of you continued your walk in silence. Jeonghan’s fingers were entwined with yours, his palm radiating with heat and comfort as he occasionally stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. The soft crunch of leaves under your feet and the soft, gentle breeze blowing past were the only sounds Jeonghan could hear.

He heard you gasp softly and he looked over to see what had grabbed your attention. You tugged on Jeonghan’s sleeve and pointed towards a pathway to the right, where bright flowers were blooming.

“I wanna walk through there.” You whispered excitedly.

Jeonghan didn’t know why you were whispering, but matched your volume nonetheless. “Let’s go, then.”

You began walking towards the direction of the flowers and Jeonghan lingered behind, watching you bound and leap towards the plants. When he caught up to you, you were already bent over, admiring the vibrant colors. As you began reaching out to pick one, Jeonghan grabbed your hand and pulled you upright.

“It’s okay, I’ll do it for you.” Jeonghan bent over in your stead and picked out the prettiest flower he could find in the patch (that was within reach. Jeonghan loved you but he didn’t have the heart to step on plants to get a flower). He spotted a dandelion and he reached for it as well before straightening his back and looking at you with a proud smile.

You stifled a giggle as Jeonghan gave you a once-over with a love-sick look in his eyes before he stepped closer to you and tucked the flower behind your ear.

“What’s so funny, angel?” Jeonghan asked in a hushed voice. His dark brown eyes stared into your own. They were delicate and sweet as enticing pools of swirling dark chocolate, like a glowing light with flecks of gold reflecting the dull sun’s shine.

“Nothing, I just feel like the main character in a cheesy rom-com movie,” You whispered. “Like you said earlier, I really hope this isn’t a dream.”

This time, it was Jeonghan’s turn to reach over with his free hand—which wasn’t soaked in the sticky sap from the stem from the dandelion he picked earlier—and pinch your cheek. You pouted but Jeonghan simply reached over and pressed a quick kiss to your lips and rested his forehead on your own.

“It’s not a dream, okay? Here, we can blow and make a wish on this dandelion and wish for us to be happy together, just like we are now, until forever and after. Until the ends of the earth.”

Jeonghan revealed the dandelion to you and placed it between your two lips. “Make a wish,” Both of you screwed your eyes shut, desperately wishing and praying that the two of you will always be happy forever in each other’s arms. “And blow.”

Hundreds of white, cotton-like bristles flew in every direction–but mostly into your mouth. Due to Jeonghan’s poor calculations, he blew a millisecond before you did and sent all the bristes flying into your mouth. However, Jeonghan wasn’t left unpunished by the gods.

The two of you pulled away, violently hacking and coughing as you tried to spit out all the fine needle-like substances out of your mouth, and Jeonghan began reaching in and swiping at his mouth and tongue.

A moment of silence.

“… Thath wath a lot leth romantic than I exthpected,” Jeonghan said. You gave him a look before bursting into laughter. He joined you soon after and the two of you doubled over, holding onto your stomachs for dear life until tears sprung out of your eyes.

Wiping away a stray tear, Jeonghan offered you a hand with a faint smile. “Let’th go home.”

If Jeonghan had to pick and name one place in your shared home as his favorite spot, he would pick the balcony with no hesitation. It was where the two of you shared your first meal together as a married couple in your new house, as none of your furniture had arrived, so the two of you sat on the floor of the balcony and watched the sun set over the skyline of Seoul and watched the nightlife come to life.

It was where some of the most quiet, intimate moments that Jeonghan shared with you took place. Late night talks full of giggles and nonsense. It was also where the two of you had your serious conversations. Stolen kisses, hushed whispered, loving glances. In short, the balcony held a lot of memories for you and Jeonghan.

The balcony has changed a lot since the first night you and Jeonghan ate jjajangmyeon on the floor of the balcony. The railing was decorated with fairy lights and there were two lawn chairs and a coffee table—perfect for your late night talks.

Today, you and Jeonghan opted to stand. Your husband’s arms were on either side of you, trapping you between his warm body and the railing. His body acted as a wall of protection from the cold wind. Jeonghan nuzzled his face into your hair and inhaled, breathing in the soft scent of your shampoo and sighed in content.

You stared out into the sky, watching the sun set lowly over busy Seoul when Jeonghan spoke lowly into your ear. “What are you thinking about, angel?” His warm breath tickled your ear. The sun was a bright shade of red as it bid farewell to your side of the world, ready to pass the imaginary baton to the moon. Streaks of bright red, orange, and yellow pierced through the sky and cast shadow where the clouds were. It was like a painting.

“Nothing, just… looking.”

Your husband sighed and rested his chin on your shoulder. After a beat of silence, he spoke again. “I love you, a lot. You know that, right?”

You hummed. “Of course I do,” You reached behind you and lightly ran your fingers through Jeonghan’s hair, the silk strands slipping through your fingertips. “And I love you too. So much.”

Jeonghan’s heart suddenly swelled with the immeasurable amount of love he felt for you in that moment. He buried his face in your hair to try and hide his welling tears, but his sniffling gave him away.

“Hannie? Are you crying?” You don’t wait for a response. You whipped around and held your loving husband’s face in your hands as he sniffled, his sparkly eyes tinged with red as a single tear streamed down his cheek. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Jeonghan nodded and smiled through his tears. “I just.. love you. So much. I never want to forget this moment with you. I want to treasure all the memories we share forever, locked in a vault in my mind so I can remember it for all of eternity.”

You gently pinched his cheek. “Not a dream, right?” Jeonghan nodded. “As long as I’m here with you, by your side, you’ll always remember the warmth and the love that we share.”

Jeonghan pulled you in by your waist and captured your lips with his soft ones. He pressed your body tightly against him, sharing your body warmth. You wrapped your arms around his neck as his mouth moved against yours, making you lose track of all sense and time.

“I love you,” Jeonghan mumbled softly against your lips, as if it were a secret just for you to hear. “Always have, always will.”

“Me too, Hannie. I’ll love you for as long as you use those cheesy pick-up lines.”

“You’re never hearing the end of those.”

“I really hope not.”

reblogs and feedback is always appreicated ^-^

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brayneworms · 7 months

Text

c'mon, baby, you're my best fix | sampo koski

kinktober day three: dry humping

word count: 2.4k

content: dry humping, gender-neutral reader, silvermane guard!reader, hatesex elements, sex as stress relief, semi-public (alleyway), reader has been drinking but isn't implied to be intoxicated, dom!reader + sub!sampo (but he's implied to be a switch), elements of sadism + masochism, degradation, coming untouched.

♪ love in a trashcan - the ravenettes.

kinktober mlist | regular mlist

The biggest fucking lie anyone had told, ever, had come out of Sampo Koski's mouth that afternoon:

C'mooon. I can be good.

You know for a fact that this is a lie, because through no will of your own you have become quite well-acquainted with Sampo Koski, and if there's one thing you're sure of is that he has a physical aversion to doing what he's told.

He had been told, for example, the following many times: Leave me alone, Koski. You're a fucking creep, Koski. Stop conveniently walking by my workplace the very minute I finish my shift, Koski. No, you can't buy me a drink, Koski.

And yet he shows up anyway, like a bad penny, like a dog someone hadn't reprimanded harshly enough and had come sniffing around looking for scraps. Maybe you're too nice, but you sort of doubt it. You think it's more likely that Sampo likes when you talk down to him, which is a whole other can of worms that you're not remotely interested in opening.

"I get the feeling you're mad at me," comes that familiar simpering voice, sliding home into the booth opposite you. Sampo slumps forwards against the table with his face squished against his open palm, grinning that ever-present crescent-moon smile. Cut-jade eyes glimmer out at you through the half-light of the tavern. They always seem to be glittering, despite the absence of any real light. "It's this nagging feeling!" he continues gleefully, even when you glare at him. "This annoying but rather persistent voice in the back of my head keeps telling me that when you tell me to leave you alone, you actually mean it!" He gives a hearty laugh, toying with his flask of ale, and peers up at you through his stupidly thick lashes. "Still, I know it can't be true, considering what happened the other night."

Stupid alcohol. Stupid Sampo. Stupid, stupid you.

One day of weakness. Being a Silvermane Guard was never exactly easy work, but most days tended to be less harrowing than the one you'd had. Every lead you'd chased had slipped through your fingers, and your shift had ended abruptly when the brother of a victim you were seeking justice for had elbowed you to the ground in frustration and spat on you. Your superior wrestled him off you and told you to clock off early.

You supposed she was being kind, but it just made you feel more useless than ever. Boiling with anger and with nowhere to put it, you stormed to the nearest tavern with the intention of drowning your sorrows. Two cups of mead in, you'd gone outside to clear your head, and there he had been, lurking around like an alley cat, sharp eyes lingering on everyone who walked past. No doubt looking for his next easy target. You clear your throat pointedly, and he spins around. Surprise quickly melts into familiar delight.

"Captain, my Captain!" he trills, slinking over as he was wont to slink everywhere.

"Not a captain," you remind him for the fortieth time. "Why are you loitering around here, Koski?"

An affronted hand to his chest, as though clutching imaginary pearls. "Oh! Did they outlaw that, too? Going to cuff me and sling me in jail, hm?"

"Don't fuckin' tempt me," you grumble, tipping your head back against the wall of the tavern. "Can you hurry up and commit a crime in front of me, or something?"

Sampo grins. "Rough day?"

"You're not helping," you snip back, slightly unfairly. He isn't really doing anything more than hanging around being irritating. He slinks closer, slinks like he always does, like it's the only way he knows how to move. Oozing around like a toxic slime, draping himself against the wall just in front of you, arm braced against the brick behind your head.

"I could, though."

His forwardness is hardly a surprise. There isn't any danger of missing his meaning in the sleepy droop of his eyes, the lazy smile curling at his lips. Sampo is an incurable flirt to each and everyone—the thing is that most of the time it's part of the con. You know a few Silvermane Guards who have fallen into his charm and his bed that cut him a lot of slack where they really, really shouldn't.

Sampo Koski has friends everywhere, and that's what makes him so dangerous.

You know this. You have done for a while, especially because he'd been trying to worm his way into your bed for about as long as you'd known him. You resent the thought of him having any sort of power over you, though. There's no denying that he's attractive, and you've often wondered if he would be able to put his money where his mouth is, for lack of a better phrase. But handing over that amount of control to someone like Koski is just incurably stupid.

Because then you're trapped. Every time he'd catch your eye afterwards, they'd glimmer, and you'd know he was remembering your moment of weakness, inviting you to remember it too. Every time his eyes would rake down your body you'd know he'd be recalling when he'd seen it devoid of clothing, sweating, trembling. Every time he'd look at you, he'd know he'd already won.

Really, there's a very simple solution. Don't let him win.

"I bet," you breathe, meeting his eyes for once. You can see them widen slightly, his lips part in surprise before he makes a recovery from this most minuscule slip of his mask.

"Ohoho?" He lets out an irritating little laugh. "Gosh. Must have been a really rough day."

"I'd prefer it to get rougher."

Sampo's mouth splits into a wide grin, one almost fanatical in nature. "I should've pegged you as the type!" he gushes. "Why would anyone be nonsensical enough to join the Silvermane Guards unless they secretly enjoyed a little pain? Between you and me, Captain, I don't mind it either."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" you sigh. "Only a real masochist would so frequently try to get under my skin."

His lashes flutter. "I'm trying to get under much more than that, Captain."

You grab him by the front of his shirt and drag him down the alley beside the tavern. In the dusk light, the two of you slip into the shadows almost immediately, and you follow the narrow path down to the back of the tavern, where the noise of the street outside is quietened to a whisper. Sampo giggles behind you.

"What an exhibitionist you are," he says slyly. "I should've expected it from you, I guess. I guess—"

You plant two hands on his chest, shoving him back into the brick wall, and kiss him. His words flutter to a halt and he stifles a yelp of surprise against your mouth before his eyes squinch shut. His hands aren't shy, flying up to grip your waist, and you press yourself flush against him. He makes a whimpery noise into your mouth as your knee slots itself between his legs, pushing up. He runs hot, you can feel it even through his clothes, and it's a welcome immersion from the perpetual algidity of Belobog.

He grunts as he pulls away, and you take in the slightly glazed look in his eyes and the high colour in his cheeks with a tinge of gratification. "We don't have an awful lot of time," he says pseudo-apologetically. His hands fly to his belt, fingers working nimbly at the buckle. "I'm due somewhere in twenty—"

His voice stammers to a halt when your hand clamps down over his, stilling his fingers. Sampo blinks up at you, puzzled; the penny hasn't yet dropped, you suppose, even as you patiently pry his fingers away from his belt.

"What are you doing?" you ask bluntly. Sampo's lips part and he looks at you as though you're quite delusional.

"Ah... ahem?" He laughs nervously. "Is that a trick question?"

"No," you answer easily. "What are you doing?" Off his bewildered look—which you take the time to enjoy, considering how little you get to see anything but smug ostentation on his face—you shrug. "Oh, I see. That's what you thought this was? I take you into some... secluded little alley, and I get you off?"

Sampo's mouth drops open. "I—I would've—"

"Let's not delude ourselves," you interrupt, and push your knee up between his thighs again. He makes a high, shaky noise in the back of his throat, tipping his head back against the brick wall. "D'you really think you've earned that?"

"Hm?" Sampo swallows hard, the juts in his throat flexing. "I—"

"All you do is hang around bothering me," you hiss. "And you think... what, one well-timed innuendo is all it took for me to change my mind? If you want to get off, then get off." Your knee slides against him, the stiffening in his trousers, and he makes a rather pathetic noise.

"You're not serious," he gasps, cheeks flushed scarlet. His sleepy eyes are wider than you've ever seen them and trained frantically on you. "Come on, Captain, you can't mean that. W-what would you get out of it, even?" He tries for a smirk. "I promise, if you let the reliable Sampo get his hands on you, you won't regret—mmfph?"

Your fingers slip under the stupid windows flaring over his hips, gliding over the skin there. He runs so warm, and it's ridiculous considering Belobog's perpetual winter, as you curl your fingernails into the skin of the small of his back 'till it dimples and drag his hips painstakingly over the flat of your thigh.

This time, sweet as music, he doesn't talk. His mouth drops open and he lets out a shivering moan, gloved hands scrabbling on the brick wall behind him. "You really are serious," he says in disbelief even as his hips roll absently against your leg. A strained laugh escapes him as—finally—a painfully scarlet flush starts bleeding into his cheekbones. "I always knew you Silvermanes were crazy."

"Mm. Not all of them," you say quietly. "But I am. I'm pretty crazy."

Sampo shudders, one that worms its way slowly through his whole body, and then he drops his head against your shoulder. He smells nice, like smoke and mint, his hair soft as it brushes your skin. His hips move languidly against you, stuttering occasionally, unsure—until you flex the muscle of your thigh against him. A whimper breaks free, high and whiny like shattered glass.

"You're so cruel," he groans even as his body drags against your leg. You underestimated how overwhelming it would be; his breath in the hollow of your neck makes the skin there hot and clammy, and when he moans it goes right in your ear. You're certain he's exaggerating to get your resolve to weaken. Nobody actually sounds like that.

And you can feel him, hard and hot as a brand, pushing up against your leg. You shudder almost imperceptibly, because yes, yeah, you're wondering how he would feel inside you, but you can't—not tonight, you promise yourself as your teeth grit. Tonight isn't about that.

It's about winning.

"Please," Sampo grits out, turning his head so you can see slices of his moonstone eyes through the sweaty locks of hair. "I—nngh, oh—I want inside of you."

"Take it or leave it, Koski," you say, a bit too breathlessly for your liking. He shivers with a sulky noise, and the whole time, even as he talks his hips are rolling against your leg. He picks up speed as sweat starts rolling down his skin, as his hands scrabble over the brick and then fly out to grab your waist and haul you closer. His strength is ridiculous—but so is yours. You let yourself be pulled, feeling his mouth and teeth against your ear, the breathy noises spilled across your jaw.

"Oh—please, I'm close." His eyes blink up at you, wet and deceptively innocent. The look on his face is almost heartwrending. "I need you, anything—your hand, mouth, anything, I don't care, please—"

"You're going to cum in your pants against my leg like the dog you are," you spit, your hand fisting in the hair at the nape of his neck. He yelps, the flush on his cheeks darkening, eyes fluttering shut. "And you're gonna be grateful you even got that much."

Sampo moans, broken and high; his hips stutter against your leg as his hands curl into your waist so hard you're sure they'll leave bruises. But under the pleasure is a certain frustration, a sobbing sound as he cums and it sets your blood alight. You shiver with the delight of it.

The seconds that follow feel like victory.

Sampo peels away from you, stumbling back against the brick wall behind him. He's scarlet all the way down to his chest, his mouth agape and eyes wide and glittering with unshed tears as he uncomfortably adjusts his pants. They're dark and it's night, so he can probably get away with them until he gets the chance to go home and change, but the thought of him walking around in soiled underwear thrills you.

You probably are actually crazy. Sampo's annoying, but he's quite perceptive.

He clears his throat, shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Well. Erm. That was..." He swallows. "The great Sampo really got himself in a rather sticky situation this time, didn't I?"

"Poor choice of words," you supply, and he winces, flushing harder.

He clears his throat. "Like I said, I, erm, have somewhere to be. Nice catching up, though." He puts two fingers to his temple and flicks them into the air in a mock salute. You watch as he spins lazily on his heel, rolling his shoulders as he starts his walk back down the alleyway.

"By the way," he added, pausing a few feet away. "I certainly hope that wasn't your way of trying to dissuade me." Your eyebrows raise, and he grins; his canines are sharp, and you can see them flash when his lips peel back. "Well, be serious: once you feed a starving dog, it doesn't leave you alone, does it? It comes back for more. Maybe it even follows you home."

He leaves you with that, one last lingering look and an implication that has you burning more than anything that transpired in the last ten minutes.

You get the altogether not unpleasant feeling that this will be far from the last you see of Sampo Koski.

#🫀.scribes #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #sampo koski x reader #sampo koski smut #sampo x reader #sampo smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai smut #honkai x reader #kinktober 2023 #hsr smut

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dimepdf · 1 year

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Can you write more Dilf!Toji please? 😭 I really appreciate your writing 🫶🏽

★ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐘. + 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. you come around and make Toji so tempted, no matter what broad he's bagging all he can think about is you: his fucking nanny .

─── ☆ notes. number one dilf toji defender here, i’m in my Anderson Paak phase as well as i’ve sadly (i know im disappointed too) fallen for a man to the point where this boy has invaded my DREAMS y’all…this is embarrassing and this fic is me coping with having an actual crush so i give you full permission to call me a simp over this .

─── ☆ length. 2.6k (23 mins) .

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, nanny au, dilf!toji, angsty start, fluff, minor character death, hints of depression, hookups, pining, black coded reader, you got brotha STARVING, megumi and tsumiki are toddlers in this, someone give toji a hug, vent-fic, hurt/comfort, age gap, height difference, it's always Gojo’ fault, masturbation, jealousy | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

Toji would say that after becoming a parent, he could read body language pretty well. Maybe it was just part of being a single parent and having to detect when your toddlers were sprouting nonsense just to stay up later knowing it was bedtime.

From the times he believed that his little Megumi was being the perfect angel and finally grew out of his tantrum phase.

Only to turn his back and realize that he had used craft scissors to chop a chunk out of Tsumiki’s hair and was playing nice to soften his punishment, to school beatdowns and playing dumb, Toji had decided he was just a master at decoding anyone’s bullshit.

Everyone except for his own that is.

Being a single parent came with its perks, Toji loved his two little demons, and it sort of helped that Tsumiki made the most of her mother's common sense.

But dealing with his ex-wife's abrupt death, being sprung into the life of lone fatherhood, and being a successful businessman were starting to take their toll on him.

His friends were not much help. Sure, Gojo did all he could to be seen as the cool uncle, but leaving his two hyper children with a man that refused to say no to anything that they asked was like signing his children up for their possible deaths.

Geto wasn’t much better, having his own marriage and kids. You would think that the father would grow to have a bit more compassion for the children's safety. Yet every time Tsumiki and Megumi visited their brass uncle, they would always come home with new scars sprouting about how they were practicing wrestling moves with their cousins for the last ice pop.

Waking up to something different, never being able to just fill in the gaps with a routine was starting to become a bit stressful.

Not to mention going to work and having to push himself to his limits, knowing that just because he was friends and business partners with Nanami didn't mean he'd be lenient with him.

All paired with the weight of some bold secretary that he had a one-night stand and never got the clue that every time he would brush her off for paperwork didn't mean he was singling her to cling onto him more. It was bad business hooking up with one of his employees Toji knows.

If anything, the woman had taken him at just the right opportunity when he was at the lowest moment of his life. Right after his wife's death, he had fallen behind on just about everything to the point where he would lean into any sense of comfort that reminded him of that faded memory he wanted to keep dear to his heart.

So there he was after hours with a woman's thigh over his shoulder moaning out his name as if it were a prayer, and he had realized that right after it was all a mistake, which was kind of a shitty thing to note as she was standing right in front of him pulling up her panties.

He just can't do it again, out of respect for her but also for himself. The last thing he wanted to do was entangle himself in another situation that would take more time away from his kids.

Not that he considered the woman to be pestering, but he wasn't a teenager anymore. The last thing he wanted to do was handle his stress by sticking his dick in the first woman he considered attractive, all because he had trouble bottling up all his emotions.

Toji's hatred for all the lingering eyes in the office—sure, Toji thought himself handsome—the proof was the number of relationships he had in his younger days.

There was something wrong with people finding him attractive and wanting something from him when he genuinely felt like his entire world would collapse on top of him if he stopped moving.

As if he stopped overworking himself that he would be like one of those sharks that had to keep swimming or else they would fucking die. It was ironic how stupidly afraid Toji was at the thought of leaving his children alone in the world with both of their parents gone.

It was fear, having that parental fear for something every waking morning worrying every second that something could happen to children all because he could notice one little thing or he hadn't paid enough attention.

Sure, he was being a hovering parent—call it what you want—but Toji would rather be that than a father who would spend his free time sleeping around with several different women. Never wanting to have to explain to his children that none of the women he slept with could compare to the relationship he had with their mother.

So he didn't. No more attachments. No more romantic anything, let alone bringing a woman home.

It was the secretary's fault. She was a beautiful woman with long hair and a cute, petite figure, and she allowed him to fold in any position that he wanted against his desk.

All that just makes Toji feel more guilty, or more worried, as if this choppy relationship that he had with this poor woman, whose name he would always forget yet who would practically scream out his, would just blow up in his face.

What if she wanted something more serious?

What if Nanami found out that he was banging one of the employees?

What if he got fired because he couldn't keep it in his pants?

What if he lost his main source of income and couldn't provide for his kids anymore?

All of those worries were just added stress, crowding his plate until he couldn't carry it anymore, and after a few years of bottling it all up until he couldn't anymore, he finally decided to reach out for help.

Little by little, of course, he would actually tell his friends how he felt when they asked, spend more time letting Megumi and Tsumiki be actual kids, letting them hang out with their friends, and worry just a bit less whenever they would visit their younger cousins at Geto’s place.

He had even accepted Gojo’s idea of hiring a babysitter, but of course, the blonde’s intentions for such an offer were dual-minded.

Thriving on about how he should hire some smoking hot lady, to have some eye candy around the house to fuel some busting fantasies to break his dry spell.

Toji was quick to dismiss that idea for a variety of reasons, one of which was that he had hired you. You were a clumsy young girl who just needed a side hustle to pay for some of your college classes, accepting his twenty-dollar an hour ad despite the fact that it was the lowest pay sandwiched between the obviously more wealthy families looking for someone to look after their kids so they didn't have to on the boogie nanny seeking website.

At first, the idea of leaving his children alone with you was a terrifying thought. The impression that you gave him during the interview was more than enough to fuel his worries after seeing you stumble out of your car and get your jacket in the car door, dense to the point where you had face-planted into his back during the house tour, too busy gawking at the many bathrooms to pay attention to where you were supposed to be walking.

Your genuinely bubbly personality around the children is what saved you from going broke. Sure, you were a little naive when it came to some of the things that you lied about on your resume, but the thing that Toji liked about you was that you just seemed to handle yourself so well despite not knowing at all what you were doing. If anything, he admired how you had managed to keep yourself alive despite running through life so differently than he would.

You were quick to gain his trust, in fact, quicker than anyone has ever in his entire life. He felt his feelings were mostly biased given that his kids had practically attached themselves to you throughout the months of being their nanny.

It was only natural for them to grow so close to you with how much Toji had to work, but what Toji hadn't expected was for you two to form some sort of friendship as well.

It started off pretty odd, with Toji coming home to find you have the kids tucked in for the night and spread out on his living room couch watching so many movies on his HBO Max account that he forgot he even had.

You were a pretty chatty person, and he had learned to notice how you could go from being so silent that he would forget you were even there to the point of talking about anything within your wide range of interests that Toji had never heard of.

In all honesty, Toji loved that about you—how you could introduce him to new things that he hadn't gotten around to understanding all because he was too busy being a workaholic.

His new favorite part about coming home was just to talk to you, or at least listen to your rant about some silly little show, or make him listen to one of the new songs you had become obsessed with.

And before he had known it, Toji actually felt warmth in his household again, all because of some kind-hearted nanny who had managed to break down all of his walls.

It was almost strange how someone so opposite to him, someone so minor, could have managed to make his life change for the better.

And then it got a little bit more strange.

Life had been going so well for him that sometimes those days would just blend together. There would be times at work when he had wished for his entire office building to crumble to dust just so he could get out of work early for the day, but even after those shifts, he would come home to you, and suddenly that swallowing dark hole in his chest would actually start to feel whole again.

He had just gotten so used to using you as his personal happiness dispenser that when you managed to wiggle into his life more and more, he even introduced you to his main group of friends. His mood was ruined when he saw Gojo's eyes practically glow at the sight of you during Tsumiki's birthday party.

Toji hadn't understood why it had bothered him so much, seeing his best friend become too chummy with you.

If anything, knowing Gojo’s history of charming the pants off of any attractive woman, he could have prepared him enough to know that you too would soon enough fall victim to at least one of his friends, but there was just something so uncomfortable about hearing Gojo drown you in compliments.

It was as if something had clicked, and suddenly you weren't just the full-time nanny anymore, but the beautiful young woman that he had suddenly noticed was so pretty, and that alone made Toji feel like such a fucking creep.

Maybe it was because you were closer to his children's age than his or the fact that every time you would change your hair every other month, he would imagine his hands tangled in your braids, how he would think about holding the locs away from your face to get a better view of you between his legs.

It was all so fucked, your now normal image of him all screwed over all because of Gojo and his ability to turn anything sexual. Toji had felt just a little better pinning the blame on someone else, thinking that maybe it would ease his guilt for getting so hard thinking about you late at night.

You would be just downstairs asleep in the living while he laid down on the other side of the house in the comfort of his four walls, pressing his face into his pillows with an erection hard enough that he was convinced it was harder than bricks.

For the first time in a while, it wasn't anything work-related taking up all of his attention, but instead the fucking nanny he hired. The pretty nanny who was in college, who was closer to his children's age than his, the nanny with the glossed lips that he had to hold back from wanting to taste which flavor it was she was wearing now.

His lovely nanny, whom he wished to strip naked piece by piece to pay close attention to every dip and curve in her figure. He wanted you naked as the day you were born, spread across his mattress, lips parting only to say his name and his name only.

It was a dangerous thought, one that often led to Toji revealing himself with a rabbit hole of thoughts about you in any situation his mind could imagine.

It was even more crude—wrapping his hand around his dick and thrusting his hips up into his hand, thinking about the same woman who was just a staircase away, masturbating as if he were a teenage boy and not a man with two kids asleep in just the room across the hall.

He blamed everything on Gojo, it was all his fault that you have suddenly seemed so fucking unforgettable. How could you suddenly be all he could think about with all his sanity thrown out the window for some nanny?

His pretty nanny.

You were so beautiful, with full lips, a dark complexion, and brown eyes that managed to look so appealing despite being so boring. Your expressions make you so easy to read.

The way your brows would pull together whenever you were confused, how the ends of your lips would quirk with every joke, how your personality managed to be so welcoming.

You stood tall, your head just below his shoulder, average height but so short in comparison to his towering figure.

How bad Toji just wanted to scoop you up into his arms and bury his face into your neck, the same neck where he wanted to leave as many marks as he possibly could against your brown skin.

The thought doesn't help Toji’s aching dick at all. How bad he wants to suck little marks into your soft flesh, leaving dark little marks wherever he can against your body.

It was a possessive thought, having you covered in his teeth marks and love bites, waiting for the next guy to dare to even make a move on you.

He wonders how soft your thighs feel and how nice they would feel wrapped around his waist. He lets his hand do the majority of the work, his fingers rough around his length, causing a groan from the friction.

Toji’s fantasies about you play out quite beautifully in his mind, so perfectly, in fact, that he struggles to keep himself silent.

Which was a new thing for him given that Toji wasn’t usually very vocal during sex, not even the best blowjob that he had ever gotten would he give anything but a few grunts yet there he was fisting into his fist to keep himself from whimpering out so pathetically.

Humping his hand to the point where he had to cover his own mouth, he finished all over himself, strings of cum shooting all over his chest to his shirt. He was too caught up in his own bliss to care about the sad mess he created.

Toji thought you were beautiful. He thought you were so perfect to the point where even the simple thought of you made him so happy.

You, his nanny, were the realization that settled in his mind after his high.

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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut

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octuscle · 4 months

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My wrestling coach of 6 years has been on my ass trying to get me to join him as his assistant coach. I’m not so interested as I have to prioritize my studies.

The problem is he keeps sending his dirty compression gear to my flat — I don’t get that. But something about that smell… it reminds me of him, his manliness… And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had a crush on him for the past 4 years… maybe I should accept his offer…

Well, crush is a harsh word… I mean, you started on the youth team in elementary school with your coach. You're a sophomore in college now. Sure you had a little crush on him when you were in high school. But you weren't really in love.

Since you've had a laundry basket full of his dirty clothes in your apartment, that's changed a bit. You dream about your trainer all the time. And the dream usually ends with rough sex. And a nocturnal ejaculation on your part. You're already sleeping in one of his wrestling singlets so you don't have to keep changing your bed. This prevents bigger messes.

When you get out of the shower this morning, freshly shaved all over, there's a knock at the door. Someone has left a package in front of the door. A wrestling singlet. It's still warm and damp with sweat. And someone has recently squirted into the singlet. It's actually disgusting. You actually have to go to class. But you have to try on the singlet. Now. Damn, it feels so great. The cum from Coach sticks to your smooth cock. You can feel his sweat on your skin. You smell your freshly shaved armpits. It's a good thing you haven't used deodorant yet. So you can smell Coach's musk and imagine it's yours. You have a boner. You play with your nipples. Your precum mixes with Coach's cum. And shortly afterwards you cum. An incredible amount!

You don't have time to shower. Your first marketing lecture starts in half an hour. You pull on a pair of jeans and a hoodie over your singlet, slip into socks and sneakers, grab your backpack and make your way to campus.

You could have saved yourself the day at university. You couldn't concentrate. You went to the toilet three times to have a wank. And as soon as you get back to your apartment, you wank the next time. It feels so great to come in Coach's singlet.

The next morning you wake up in your own university team singlet. You must have changed into it at some point while you were half asleep. Phew, you stink of sweat and cum. Yes, you remember… After training yesterday, there was a private wrestling session with Coach. He tried to use gentle force to persuade you to take on the job of assistant coach. The fight was great. But you don't want to. The fact that you let yourself be persuaded to switch from business studies to sports science a semester ago is the furthest thing from your mind. First lecture this morning is athletics. Not your favorite sport… But at least you don't have to shower. You take a deep breath from your bushy armpit. Fuck, yes! No wonder it drives Coach crazy. If you could, you'd fuck yourself.

Coach is still lying next to you, snoring. Today is your last fight as a student for your university. You're still wondering whether you should cut your hair for the graduation ceremony. Since you've been Coach's assistant, you've let your curls grow. But when you graduate, you'll also lose your assistant position. In two months, you will become a coach at your old high school. Best job you can imagine.

Pic found @athletic-collection

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #wrestler tf #age progression

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ilylovelyz · 10 months

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levi (romantic) headcannons

prt 2. lesssgoooo 🦵 👍🏼 (see prt 1.)

eventually, levi would begin to kiss you on his own without having nervous thoughts

after a while he would be kissing you without a single thought

it would be in the hallways, before and after meetings, before a battle, just anywhere if he saw you

levi is a quiet person in general, but when he's with you, he talks a little more openly and CONSIDERS everyone's feelings when he's with you cuz you just make him so soft

but if he's with you (alone), sometimes he just babbles about whatever

"mike keeps sniffing people and it's driving me insane" type shit 😭

i know this might seem like something he may not do, but i feel like he would like play-wrestling with you

it's rare when you two do, and it usually happens in a confined space for some reason (i.e a carriage or something)

usually occurs when you try to arm wrestle with him and it eventually ends with him leaning his entire body weight onto you 😭

it brings out the little boy in him </3

he loves it when it happens tho it's amusing to him cuz ur taller than him and for some reason expected you to maybe match his strength cuz he has high expectations for you

yup, his expectations for you are higher than everyone's

he just expects more coming from someone he knows well

this means you get scolded more 😭

not like his scoldings actually hurt your feelings, you actually find it funny (much to his relief)

majority of his scoldings occur because you did something dangerous and pissed him off as result

moving on, levi sometimes takes showers/baths with you (like 6-7 months within the relationship) even before the two of you had sex for the first time

he's not really intimidated by showing you his naked body, nor is he intimidated by yours because well he's a grown man 😭

(doesnt mean he doesn't consider you physically attractive, he thinks you have a great body)

he casually walks in when ur taking a bath

and tbh the bond between the two of you becomes stronger because of that because it doesn't feel shameful or awkward

okay the first time the two of you had sex was like 6-7 months within the relationship

and he absolutely did not know what to do

he was so nervous and was like "can i put my hand here?" (it was barely underneath your shirt)

he's had sex before but with you it was different

10/10 he would do you again

i feel like the color purple or green would remind him of his s/o

dont ask why, i dont know why myself

bro little "dates" where the two of you are literally only sleeping in bed together

that's literally it, just laying in bed

he watches you sleep.

how romantic 😪😘

#attack on titan #levi ackerman #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan smut #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman angst #levi x reader #levi ackerman headcanons

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

multiverse monday ask!! rugby james w his shy gf who hates sports games but goes to all of his anyway. and afterwards he’s all proud and grateful and gives her thank you kisses in the locker rooms <333

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

"I just think that-" James speaks only inches away from your face, leaning in to peck your lips gratuitously between words, "It's really considerate of you-" Another smooch, this time wetting your bottom lip slightly, "To show up, 'cause I know-" Kiss, "Social gatherings aren't your favorite-" This one hits your chin more than your lips, "But you do it anyways."

You like the feeling of being smaller than him while he's hovering over you. You're sitting on the bench with your hands twisted together in your lap, his hand under your jaw as he tugs you up for each kiss. He's standing in front of his open locker, shirtless as his sweaty jersey hangs in his hand. You'd wear it yourself if it wasn't so stinky, and you're afraid the smell is going to infect the shirt he has in his locker as a change.

"Of course I come," Your thumbs twiddle together, "What kind of girlfriend ditches their boyfriend when he's playing?"

"The kind that don't like sports." James muses, finally slipping his shirt on and sliding it down his toned abdomen, "'S not a bad thing, lovely. Not everyone's cup of tea."

"But you're my boyfriend," You explain, as if he needs a reminder, "Sports is automatically my cup of tea. It's like, the only tea on the menu."

"Well if you'd ever like a break from tea," He wrestles with his basketball shorts, slipping his thick thighs through the mesh, "You're welcome to order coffee instead."

"This metaphor is getting out of hand," You grumble, trying not to stare at the skin of his thighs as they disappear under the fabric.

"My point is," James leans in, finally stable on his feet as his breath ghosts over your lips, "I love seeing you in the stands. You don't have to come, ever. But you do, always, and that means a lot to me. I love you."

"I love you too," You murmur against his lips, eyes shining as his do the same only inches away from you, "Do you really see me in the stands?"

"I scout you out before every game," He promises, throwing a glance over his shoulder, "Sirius told me if he finds you before I do, he gets to kiss you."

Your brows furrow, "I didn't agree to that."

"That's why I find you first every time," James snorts, "'S like I have a radar, y'know? I can tell where you are from a mile away. Boyfriend senses."

Boyfriend senses sound cool. You're not sure you have girlfriend senses, unless the ability to know exactly which pair of sneakers James needs every time he tells you to grab the black and white ones counts. All of his shoes are black and white sneakers.

"They're more powerful than just that, y'know? Like, m'boyfriend senses are telling me that you need some cinnamon rolls for breakfast tomorrow morning. So let's get out of here," He gestures around to the sweaty, stuffy locker room, "Get some dough from the store, pick up thai on our way back, and have a cozy night in."

"Your boyfriend senses really do work," You marvel, "Quick, what flavor chapstick do I have on?"

He leans in for a kiss whether you meant him to or not, tongue laving along your top lip and then dropping to his own to taste the sticky remnants of the kiss.

"Strawberry." He hums, "Burt's Bees."

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talesfrommedinastation · 8 months

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My redneck neighbor Doug's interpretations on various 'Bad Batch' characters: Side Character Edition!

I'm chuffed that everyone thinks my neighbor Doug is funny: he really is a gem. I had no idea we'd bond over Star Wars and crappy weather, but here we are.

Naturally, I had to bother him about other characters that showed up on The Bad Batch, so, here we go!

Phee Genoa: Ah-ha, that there’s Church Lady. You know her, she’s got a big square in her pocketbook and you don’t know if it’s pound cake or a brick, because the Lord saves but He can’t help you in the alley when you’re in Treme and the streetlights just turned on. She has two ex-husbands who are both preachers and they turned to Jesus because they are so scared of Church Lady in court.

(So I guess he’s saying Phee has raw WHO DAT energy, for my Saints fans out there)

Cid: Looking at this fat lizard bitch makes me hungry. I call that one Houma-BBQ because I’m guessing we could feed a whole parish fire station based on the size of her tail. I wish she’d shut up, she reminds me of my mother-in-law.

Cad Bane: Homeboy looks like a Sesame Street character who teaches Big Bird about concealed carry laws. I call him Gun Safety Muppet. I don’t like him because he shot my Wife and I’s Boyfriend on the other show and his robot needs to be tossed into a wood chipper.

(“I’m not gay, but Jenny and I…well, we would make an exception to that man. You ever see ‘Deadwood’? Man is fine. I’m not GAY.”)

Fennec Shand: That’s The Chick that’s in Everything. She was on ER and Boba Fett and I think a Marvel show too? I like her. Hope she kills Gun Safety Muppet and hurls his blue ass into a dumpster.

Howzer: That’s my niece’s boyfriend, Jorge. We all love Jorge, nice guy, owns an auto repair shop and always remembers plates and napkins for the cookouts after church.

Gregor: Jorge’s cousin, Manny. Met him once at Christmas in Miami, nice guy, only drinks brown liquor and insists everyone arm wrestle him. But he’s got a good job as a PE teacher, we respect education, come on now.

The Martez Sisters: Aw, man, it’s Jorge’s Unemployed Sisters. I hate it when they show up for Christmas and get into fights with my momma.

(“Doug, you know they’re not related to the clones at all, right?” “Says who?” “The PLOT?” “Eh, they’ll change it, just watch.”)

Mayday: Aw, I liked this guy so much! That’s Sassy Park Ranger, he’s the type that gives you your camping permits, warns you about the bears, and then is all disappointed when you don’t properly stow your food and the bears destroy the campsite. I need to go back to Little River Canyon, that place was pretty.

Lt. Nolan: THAT STUPID BLOND JACKASS. (Doug was so enraged by the guy he had nothing else to add. Damn.)

Senator Chuchi: Why does this lady make me want a blue slushie? I’ll call her the Sonic Special. They need more Sonics here in the north, they really do.

Cody: That’s Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend, he’s sad all the time. We know why. (Confirmed that Doug is a Codywan shipper and I don’t know what to do about that)

Royce Hemlock: Is that Jimmy Neutron after he grew up and became one of those guys that’s on the internet all the time writing creepy things? It’s Jimmy-the-Scientist. He looks like the type of person dogs get weird around.

Rex: That's Rex. He's a king. Respect him.

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thesithdiaries · 7 months

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Choose (Rhea Ripley/TJD imagine)

Pairing: Platonic!The Judgement Day x female!reader

Warnings: spoilers for Fastlane 2023 if you haven't watched it, no google translate because spanish is my first language, typical wrestling violence, angst, him or me trope, gaslighting, choking, mentions of bruises and marks, made up women's championship, is finn the villain? probably

Setting: Monday Night Raw after WWE Fastlane 2023

The air felt thick in the locker room. At least it felt that way for Y/N.

She finally had a match for the new women's championship. Y/N had worked hard for weeks, training and practicing her moves, and working on her strategy. Rhea had been a huge help for her, as she was the current Raw Women's Champion. The match was against Becky Lynch. Y/N didn't lie to herself, Becky was great at what she did, and beating her was going to be tough.

“JD is going to be on standby to help you,” Finn told Y/N, making her snap out of her thoughts. JD stood there, smiling.

“What? Why?” She replied, confused.

“What do you mean "why”? Nobody will see it coming, because they'll expect Rhea or Dom to go out there with you.”

“Yeah, you could use the surprise to your advantage,” Dom pipped in, softly nudging her arm.

“I could go with you if you want,” Damian suggested, noticing she wasn't liking the initial idea.

“No.” Y/N finally said, standing up from the couch. Everyone looked at her, some shocked and some not surprised.

“Why not?” Both Finn and JD asked at the same time.

“I can do this on my own,” Y/N reminded them, making Finn scoff. “I really don't want anyone there with me. I want to show everyone that I do belong in this group.”

Rhea was quiet, analyzing everything. A slow, burning rage crept up on her for the way they were treating Y/N.

“It's time for my match, I’ll see you guys later.”

When Y/N left and closed the door, Rhea turned to look at the guys. “You heard her. I don't want anyone out there, do you understand? It's what she asked.”

The match had gone on for 20 minutes. The crowd was deafening, loving the way Becky and Y/N worked with each other. It was such an important match for both of them.

It had been very back-and-forth, both women showing their incredible skills and determination. Y/N, using a new move, locked Becky into a submission hold. The crowd cheered in anticipation as Becky groaned in pain, her fingers trying to reach the ropes.

Y/N heard boos and turned her head towards the ramp. JD McDonagh was making his way to the side of the ring. He rushed and got to the apron, attempting to help Y/N by distracting the referee. Both he and Y/N set their attention to the guy, not noticing Becky was tapping out.

She released the hold, pissed that JD went against her wishes. As Y/N turned back to Becky, though, she used the distraction in her favor. She quickly did the Manhandle Slam, sending Y/N crashing to the mat. Before going for the pin, Becky kicked JD off the ring.

Y/N sat there motionless as Becky’s theme song was playing. The ringing in her ears was so loud that she couldn't really distinguish if the crowd was cheering or booing. She almost had it, the championship was at the tip of her fingers, and now it was gone.

As the lights dimmed for a commercial break, Y/N pulled herself together and quickly went backstage. The Judgment Day was waiting for her behind the curtain, all of them panting and out of breath.

Y/N walked past them towards the locker room, without even uttering a word.

“Y/N wait,” Dom called out, walking after her. “Please stop walking.”

“I really don't wanna talk right now,” Y/N admitted. Dom grabbed her arm softly, making her stop. “Dom-”

“We didn't know he was going to do it,” Dominik informed her. “He was called for an interview right after you left and then he was out there. We ran but we didn't make it in time. Everything happened too quickly.”

“What's done is done, just leave me alone.”

“Damian, come on, let him go,” Finn pleaded.

JD was pressed against the wall, a few inches off the ground, Damien tightly choking him. “This is all your fault. Ya me tienes harto.” (I’m so tired of you.)

“I told you to stay backstage. What part of that didn't you understand?” Rhea barked, pissed off.

“Come on guys, we couldn't have poss-”

“Enough!” Damian interrupted Finn. “You knew he would do it because you told him to. You are both responsible.”

Finn laughed nervously. “No, man, I didn't tell him anything.”

Dom lightly tapped Rhea’s shoulder, pointing at Y/N’s bag still on the table. She was still in the arena. Rhea left to go look for her.

After walking for what felt like hours, she found her on the other side of the arena, sitting on top of an equipment cart. “There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you.” Rhea sat next to her, taking in her appearance. There were bruises and red marks all over her face and body.

Y/N didn't reply, just sat there, hugging her legs. In reality, she wanted to scream and cry, tear everything apart.

“Come on, love, talk to me,” Rhea begged, softly caressing her arm.

“I… asked for one thing tonight, just one… and he couldn't do that for me.”

“I know,” Rhea sighed. “We should've been paying him more attention, but I was sure he wasn't going to do anything.”

“Finn doesn't respect me,” Y/N informed her. “And before you ask why, he always gaslights and belittles me in a joking way, but we all know it's not a joke. He never considers my feelings or what I want. I lost my match, because of him and his friend. They lost their titles at Fastlane because of JD and I’m also sure he did something to the briefcase.”

“Y/N-” Rhea started, but Y/N kept talking.

“If JD McDonagh joins the Judgement Day, I’m out.”

They both stared at each other, Rhea not knowing what to say to that. She would leave? She couldn't leave them… not like that.

“I'm going to our next city, see you next week.”

“Wait, you're not coming to the rest of the shows?” Rhea asked, confused and even more worried.

“No… I need a break,” Y/N admitted. “I'll see you later, tell Damian and Dom I left.”

Rhea stood there, at a loss. Her favorite girl was about to leave a group that has fought so hard to get to the top, all because two idiots didn't care about her enough to listen to a simple request. The anger from before was spilling over. She felt her hands shaking from it. Finn and JD hurt Y/N, now they were going to pay.

#wwe imagine #wwe fanfic #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley x reader #damian priest imagine #damian priest x reader #dominik mysterio imagine #dominik mysterio x reader #finn balor imagine #finn balor x reader

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inkskinned · 2 years

Text

he tells me i'm jaded. he says - you love showers so much, why not stand in a rainstorm instead?

rainstorms have a potential to take down tree branches. they're unregulated. they get my clothes wet. in the time of my grandparents, maybe it would be more romantic. it's a drought where i live. the rain that comes down is sullen, yellow with pollution. i bite half my nails off reading about climate predictions. i stand in the shower and shift from one foot to the other, feeling annoyed with myself because i care about all of this, of course, but as a climate scientist i'm functionally useless.

he says - the color is all gone from the world! people used to like bright things. what happened to all of us?

i feel like rich people love minimalism differently. they like to remind others - i don't really need things. they can afford to have-less. they don't need to worry about buying extra; they can just get it later.

my car is silver so in 5 years after paying back the loan i might be able to sell it, if i don't hurt it too bad and if i don't drive it too hard, and if luck is in my corner. it's just a simple sedan, nothing-special. i guess i'm technically borrowing it from the bank. i can't really-decorate my apartment; i don't own it. i am not going to be able to afford a house any time soon. i would love to make my walls a wash of bright color - but i'd lose my deposit.

my clothes are all in neutrals; classic cuts that have very little fuss or personality attached to them. i worry about fast fashion and my finances; i want to be sure that i can wear the shirt in the future without feeling stupid and out-of-touch. the other day i finally tore through a pair of shorts i've had for about ten years now. i went home and tried to figure out how to repurpose the denim. how to make everything last a little longer. i sometimes will try on something trendy and cool and colorful - and then i pick out something i know will last me a long time instead. muted, conservative, unimpressive.

he says - the real world is waiting! everyone is so obsessed with their phones these days. go outside, connect with your friends!

it costs twenty dollars to go on the guided tour. they don't let you into the conservatory without a 320 dollar yearly membership. i come up with a spreadsheet, trying to figure out where my friends have schedule openings that overlap with mine. we both frown over our calendars - can't do thursday that week, anything in two weeks? there's no train, it costs forty dollars in transportation for her to come over; but i miss her, so i venmo her. we both bemoan the fact that there's just no way to get around without a car.

i am actually a full-blooded romantic. i am actually someone who truly and deeply believes in hope and the future of humanity. i am a poet, after all - i write because i believe someone out there, like me, is watching the world crumble while nursing a broken heart. i believe that most of us want to be kind, to be good, to turn our cheeks to the sky and be contented and warm.

it just feels like - there's this strange, brewing storm. where people with money and power and prestige get to say - hope is a yacht, just hop on and go.

and all us jaded, horrible little still-here tear-stained cockroaches, who croak and complain about global injustice: we don't accept it. we make our lives beautiful with whatever we can wrestle out of stone. we clutch our diaries and our sunflowers and our songs to our chest. ugly and hurting, we snarl - hope isn't yours though. it's ours.

it's all we have left.

#does this make even a lick of sense.#this is like .#optimistic pessimism idek #warm up

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keshetchai · 7 months

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I think a huge problem in internet Judaism (also sometimes irl!) discussions is often that we're so focused on fighting or pushing back on misconceptions, Christian normativity, and distorted Christian ideas about our theology — that sometimes in the pursuit of this, we forget to approach a more complicated internal reality, or we overlook parts of our own religion while trying to not assimilate.

Things like the Talmud talking about Yom Kippur being a happy day. A lot of folks were surprised and didn't know there's a huge tradition that YK is supposed to be a positive holiday and many Jews observe with joy. Then some folks went on to elaborate that if someone wished them a happy Yom Kippur and they were Jewish it was fine, but if they were gentiles who simply didn't know anything and didn't bother to learn, then they were annoyed by the lack of care re: cultural nuance or whatever.

But like...of all the annoying christian-normative bullshit that exists — someone trying to wish me a happy holiday on a holiday that is noted to be solemn AND positive, but not really knowing anything about my religion — that doesn't really make a list of things I have time to be mad about! Or even irked by!

There's a lot of ways in which people are shitty and careless or make it obvious they consider our non-christian holidays an annoying quirk they have to acknowledge, but "happy yom kippur!" Is not one of them. Sometimes I just have to remind myself that I want other people to assume the best of me, even when I am the one who is socially awkward or ignorant, or stumbling around just trying to be an okay person. And sometimes I am the clueless one who has only a shallow understanding of someone's interior life/culture and I said/did nothing actually offensive but treated the situation the same way I treat similar ones in my own life because everyone has cultural blinders somewhere.

So sometimes, I have to look at other people doing The Thing and ask myself if it's at all malicious or harmful, and if it ISN'T, shouldn't I assume the best of another human bumbling around like I do all the time? "Hey thanks. Yeah I had a meaningful holiday."

Likewise, YES, we do have a history of wrestling with G-d and pushing back and asking questions and so on, but no, stiff-necked isn't wholly complimentary, it's...frequently the opposite of that. And the knee-jerk reaction is often to push back against Christianity and Islam vilifying Jews and their stubbornness/failures/wrongs in the Bible. Which is totally reasonable, there's a huge history of a theology of antisemitism and blaming there that impacts us today.

HOWEVER, we can push back against the antisemitic theologies and interpretations of these stories without necessarily having to recharacterize everything beyond recognition?

Yes, Abraham yelled at G-d that one time, and it was great. It may have even been a test of Abraham. Yes, Israel wrestles with G-d. Yes, the Jews in the desert complain to Moses they are dying of thirst and ask what was the point of leaving Egypt if they should only die while wandering instead?

Great. Love that. BUT ALSO: yes stiff-necked is not always a compliment. Yes, the Israelites struggled and made mistakes, and are utterly and painfully human just like people are today. Flawed. We are not so stiff-necked as to say we have not sinned!

Is anything as scary as a group that admits no flaws? No errors of judgment? Never questions themselves or learns from past mistakes? Idk to me, it's all very "with great responsibility comes great accountability, and power isn't the point here." Yes? If we take pride in the moments of arguing and the pushing back, then by that same token, we have to own the failings just as much to learn from. The relationship between G-d and Jews is a two way street.

It's not a failing to be an imperfect human, but it would be a failing to screw something up and then never admit it or keep doing it when you can change.

Idk I just...there's got to be ways we can dig into meaty and interesting stuff without having to constantly be like "just because some ancestors screwed up and G-d was angry at them doesn't mean you can say Jews lost the love of God and the covenant and were replaced you absolute weirdos."

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vickyvicarious · 7 months

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ooooh, I love Patrick Hennessey's voice!

Renfield getting possessive over Dracula... or possibly just recognizing that the boxes being taken away means Dracula might leave too, and he wants to prevent that.

kfjsldf Renfield is so good at managing the staff here. politely gaslighting them to believe he's oblivious to his own actions then escaping

OHkay the dull thuds were quite awful when he's slamming the guy's head into the ground

"you know I'm no lightweight" between this and Seward knocking Renfield off with one punch I now find myself imagining them like. wrestling each other for fun or something at least once. (jack would have gotten very bisexual about it and then refused to look dr. hennessey in the face for days probably)

"'I'll frustrate them! They shan't rob me! they shan't murder me by inches! I'll fight for my Lord and Master!'" I love how rough his voice sounds here, so different from usual. Also the murder me by inches is such a vivid and bleak way to describe being deprived of the chance at supernatural life.

sorry for your finger, Hardy

YES, the first of the very thirsty men who are suddenly more relaxed when given a drink. it's so funny

but really, Hennessey managed that very well. his quick smoothing over and attention to detail could be really helpful if anyone decided to sue them or something over this.

the phonograph noises at the beginning of Jack's entry at first made me think they were at the end of Hennessey's report, and it would be very funny if Jack insisted on getting his report in phonograph form. That, or Hennessey just wanted to take the chance to see what all the fuss was about.

...and then Jack started speaking and all amusement was lost. God, he's wrecked.

the stop and scoff before "too miserable" GODDDD

"the flapping of the wings of the angel of death" yeah he's been flapping a lot the bastard

but really, the way Jack lists them off, so bitterly, damn it's horrible

is he drinking? or trying to keep from crying? I mean he's definitely doing that either way but

the shake on "we must not all break down"

van Helsing speaking SO GENTLY to Arthur, auuugh

"You shall lie on one, and I on the other, and our sympathy will be comfort to each other, even though we do not speak, and even if we sleep." this is so sweet, I can't believe I'd forgotten about it

"in this room, as in the other," of course, it makes sense not to keep Lucy in her own bedroom, where the windows are shattered and where her mother died... but I wonder where she is. Did I miss a line about it somewhere? A part of me imagines Mrs. Westenra's room, which would mean they both die in one another's beds. :(

NOT THE TEETH

"Her teeth, in the dim, uncertain light, seemed longer... and sharper than they had been in the morning. In particular - by some trick of the light, the canine teeth looked... longer... and sharper than the rest." he repeats 'longer and sharper' twice, and especially the second time sounds so... nearly fascinated. It reminds me of Jonathan describing Dracula.

"there came a sort of dull flapping or buffeting at the window" there he is, the flappy asshole. angel of death himself.

"It struck me as curious that the moment she became conscious she pressed the garlic flowers close to her. It was certainly odd that whenever she got into that lethargic state, with the stertorous breathing, she put the flowers from her; but that when she waked she clutched them close." SHE'S TRYING. GOD I WANNA CRY

van Helsing's fear and despair is so well conveyed. and when he spends several minutes staring at her and then sounds so calm - he is determined.

"I went to the dining-room and waked him." the way Jack says this line is just. brutal.

I CAN'T LISTEN TO ART BREAK DOWN THIS IS GONNA DESTROY ME

the saddest "my dear old fellow" in the world

brushing Lucy's hair... I love that this makes Jack cry, because it makes me cry too.

ffffuck her shaky greeting to Arthur.

so I was talking a little bit ago about how Jack seems to distance himself unconsciously and start referring to Lucy as a thing whenever she is in more vampiric mode, and I love to hear it reflected in his voice here too. He goes from being so choked up with emotion to sounding almost cold as he says "the mouth opened,"

and he sounds so disturbed when he calls her eyes "dull" and her voice "voluptuous"

oh no oh no that "oh my love " is SO DAMN SINISTER art don't do it don't do it. like damn, I can't even make a joke about van helsing playing chaperone I'm just thankful that he's there!

it's not like being a vampire is transferrable through saliva or anything anyway but. she sounded so scary there.

Jack's delivery about van Helsing pulling Arthur back from the kiss was so funny. He sounds so incredulous: "dragged him back with a fury of strength which I never thought he could have possessed," van Helsing may joke about him being bitchless but Jack was here thinking he was a frail old man so who's laughing now. (van Helsing. definitely still van Helsing.)

van Helsing's panting!

art, bless him, choosing not to get into a fight over his fiance's deathbed. (the way Jack's voice gets rough on "and the occasion" uggggh)

god, Lucy's voice makes me so sad. that final "and give me peace"......

"Their eyes met instead of their lips; and so they parted." THIS LINE.

nooooooo don't make me listen to Art cry fuck it's breaking me

the music while Jack is talking about there being peace for Lucy is so ominous!!! also I love the way he is so clearly trying so hard to stay composed and say something nice and look on the bright side if only a little... and then van Helsing has to be mysterious and ominous and ruin that for him too

van Helsing Barbie strikes again

"only some letters and a few memoranda, and a diary new begun." those last few words are so sad. She never got to do more than just begin her diary. She never got to even begin her new life before it was taken away from her.

"we both started at the beauty before us," Beautiful Corpse Jumpscare

"He had not loved her as I had, and there was no need for tears in his eyes." I get how you feel but that's pretty dang rude, Jack. He's told you that he loves her and wanted to save her. He already cried for her once.

kjdsfljksdf THE DELIVERY of "I want to cut off her head and take out her heart." and. no DUH he's shocked, vH! don't go acting like this is typical surgeon behavior/reaction. omg.

and then that sigh and 'kind' concession that 'all you have to do is help me cut off her head that's all'

I fucking love the delivery of "no good to her, to us, to science, to human knowledge"

"I may err—I am but man; but I believe in all I do." the way his voice almost wavers on the word 'believe'. Not out of doubt, but emotion.

"and she kiss my rough old hand and bless me?" the way he says this line... he was so affected by her trust in him and her final request. he feels honored and burdened both.

Jack being so emotional about the maid grieving for Lucy... and me sitting there knowing that she's in there to steal from Lucy. (or at least, she does even if it's not why she went in)

mr. marquand! you are a decent guy, thank you for trying to look out for Lucy's interests. anyone who tries to give her agency is good in my book. even if your rejoicing is in. rather poor taste. (Jack's laugh at that is great!)

Art bringing Jack in with him is so sweet, god, god, his crying.... THE WAY HE SAYS JACK'S NAME. THE WAY HE SAYS THERE'S NOTHING TO LIVE FOR

Jack's line about men only needing "a grip of the hand, the tightening of an arm over the shoulder, a sob in unison," was already ridiculous but the way says it like he's trying so hard to convince himself

I hit the bulletpoint character limit. Wow.

Anyways the delivery is so stiff-upper-lip-this-is-fine, it's great. especially as the further into the line he gets the more you can hear him trying not to sob as well.

THE SADDEST SMOOCH NOISES

the way Art reacts to being called 'Lord'. ""No, no, not that, for God's sake! not yet at any rate." he sounds so desperate, the POOR MAN

and the way he is taking deep breaths while talking to van Helsing. He is working so fucking hard to be kind and try and make things easier and get through this without lashing out at anyone. I love him so much.

and van Helsing immediately follows up with "I stole your dead girlfriend's letters, can I keep them?" I KNOW he feels bad about it and he feels it is necessary and everything but. damn okay.

NOT A LULLABY NOOOOOOOOOO

GOD THAT'S SO SAD. DO NOT COME INTO THE NIGHT DO NOT GO TO SLEEP MY DEAR :( :( oh how dare you with that line about eternal life/shine so bright" AND TAKE MY BITE NOOOOOOO

#dracula daily #re: dracula #lucy westenra #van helsing #jack seward #arthur holmwood

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miguelswifey04 · 9 months

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wait a riff off of the universal POC household experience:

miguel is helping gabi with her math hw (who’s STRUGGLING, she did not get the STEM genes) and he’s desperately trying not release his inner dad because he’s trying to break the cycle of children crying due to their dads getting mad at them for not being able to do math.

YES THIS!! but my moms too because my mom literally made me break down 😭

miguel o’hara and gabriella o’hara

breaking the cycle of being emotionally abusive to your children while helping them with their homework.

it was heartwarming yet slightly challenging situation as he assisted gabriella with her math homework. he understood her struggles and empathized with the frustration she felt, but he was determined to break the cycle of parental pressure and children's tears. with a patient and gentle demeanor, miguel leaned over gabriella’s desk, his eyes scanning the equations and numbers she was wrestling with. “alright, let's take this step by step. don’t worry, mija, math can certainly be a bit tricky at times, but with some practice and a positive mindset, you'll get the hang of it."

gabriella sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. she felt a sense of relief knowing that miguel wasn't going to lose his temper over her difficulties. “thanks, papa. it just feels like my brain isn't wired for this stuff. i feel so dumb."

miguel shook his head, his face filled with sincerity and encouragement. “hey now love, none of that negative talk. you’re not dumb, gabriella. everyone has their strengths, and we all learn differently. it just takes a little extra effort sometimes, but i know you can do it." miguel guided his daughter through the problems, breaking them down into more manageable parts. he utilized different teaching techniques, ensuring he tailored his approach to her specific way of understanding.

in moments where gabriella’s frustration threatened to overtake her, miguel provided encouraging words, reminding her of her potential. “remember, we're not aiming for perfection here. progress and understanding are what matter. take a deep breath, you've got this."time ticked away as they persevered through the math problems. there were a few struggles, a couple of incorrect answers, but miguel smiled reassuringly after each challenge, showing gabriella that mistakes were merely part of the learning process.

as they finally wrapped up the last problem, gabriella looked up at miguel, a mix of relief and gratitude in her eyes. "thank you, papa. i couldn't have done it without your patience and support. you really helped me understand this."miguel beamed, proud of gabriella for persevering and pushing through the difficulties. “you did the hard work yourself, gabriella. i was just here to guide you. remember, math is just one aspect of your incredible journey. your worth is not defined by numbers. you are intelligent, creative, and capable in so many ways."

gabriella's face brightened with a newfound confidence as she internalized her dad’s words. she felt a sense of empowerment, knowing that her worth extended far beyond her struggles with math. in that moment, miguel knew he had succeeded in breaking the cycle of pressure and anger that had haunted his own childhood. he filled the room with a warmth that radiated a genuine love and understanding, reminding his own daughter that her worth was immeasurable.

a/n: dad miguel 🔛🔝(of me)

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @meeom @obi-mom-kenobi @sabcandoit @emiemiemiii @astro1bloom

#spiderman atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #atsv x reader #🌱 lin writes #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x y/n #spider person #lin’s asks #♡´･ᴗ･`♡ lin answers #miguel o’hara drabble #gabriella o’hara

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