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#like this is the final act. the final puzzle piece
deus-sema · 1 day
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My two cents on Shogun finale with spoilers:
I think the way this finale was handled can be used as a fine example of how to subvert expectations in the *right* manner. This is not the kind of ending that would make us go WTF after momentary shock value only to disappoint us terribly but an ending which might not be what I - as a show only fan had predicted - but one which makes sense in the longer run like all the pieces of a puzzle falling into place to make a beautiful picture.
The actual event of the battle matters not as much as the actions of the people involved who contributed to its occurrence and affected its results. The wheels of fate are already in motion. We know that, come what may, Toranaga shall prevail. But that is a tale for another day. The one which we have been following until now was about Toranaga fighting against all odds and carefully setting the stage in order to achieve his dream, about Blackthorne who started his journey as an outsider in a foreign and hostile land with less than noble intentions finding a home in that place and about Mariko who patiently strived to fulfill her destined purpose and add meaning to her existence. And so she did. For even after her death, her presence was imbued in almost every scene leaving an everlasting impact on them.
The misleading opening of the episode with an aged Blackthorne who seemed to be back in England reminiscing about his days at Osaka clinging onto Mariko's crucifix was done in a clever manner. I was momentarily led to believe that Blackthorne might get to sail home afterall and I failed to understand why they would do that. But the lines between what was a fleeting dream and reality became abundantly clear when I witnessed Blackthorne letting go of Mariko's crucifix into the oceans. Mariko had become one with her homeland and by living there forever, Blackthorne had become one with her.
The writing of Shogun also shows us how one can make significant changes to certain characters and their relationships that differ from the source material and handle them wisely while adapting a story which is linked to the actions of its key players. Mariko's friendship with Ochiba and Ochiba's regard for her paid off because her death led Ochiba to withdraw her support for Ishido, even if she wasn't going to ally with Toranaga. This particular change from the books affected the plot and in a meaningful way. It's an achievement which certain other adaptations that introduce drastic changes without any regard for the overarching plot cannot boast of.
As a MariThorne shipper, I was left satisfied albeit in a bittersweet sense because while John had lost Mariko, his love for her still persisted. It was heartbreaking but this is a tragedy well done. One that I would remember forever. The last scene was oddly satisfying because, even if he doesn't know it yet, Blackthorne is exactly where he belongs now.
The acting was stellar as usual. Cosmo Jarvis and Tadanobu Asano deserve a special mention for this episode while Hiroyuki Sanada never disappoints. I'm grateful to the entire team of Shogun for delivering a show that I enjoyed wholeheartedly until the very end. And off I go to read the book next.
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nirby-wirby · 10 months
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local girl can’t sleep post s5 finale
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myname-isnia · 2 months
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Suddenly got this really weird off-putting feeling in my chest that I usually get when I’m about to cry over something, but also with some general iffyness thrown into the mix, and for once instead of immediately giving in to it or getting pissed at my mind I tried to figure out where it came from
Turns out I would have been completely justified in getting pissed at my mind because turns out, the cause is that I thought about a fic concept I was really excited about a few months ago that I never ended up writing because I couldn’t get into the flow from the very first sentence. I thought about it for a whole five seconds and now we’re here. Fucking great
#I need the ability to shut my brain off bc it’s always dead set on making me upset#yeah no shit I’m depressed and passively suicidal of course my mind is my worst enemy. but still. very mature thing to get hysterical about#and like. I barely even tried with that fic. I was riding that Astraphobia high back then#and thought I finally managed to achieve what other writers always went on and on about re: enjoying writing#yeah I know. I spent years writing without once enjoying the process or the final result. idk why I kept at it for so long#so I was feeling genuinely unstoppable and when the idea came to me I was super excited about writing it#but then I wasn’t really sure how to start it or how to even go about describing what I wanted to go down#I typed up a few sentences and it all just felt extremely wrong#so instead of acting like the adult I nearly am and like. leaving it to sit for a while as I gathered my thoughts#or trying out a few other approaches or starting with a different scene and filling the rest in later#I just threw a fit over it and abandoned the whole fic#but I still really like the idea and would like to see it realised. and who’ll do that if not me? kat has her own stories to worry about#so every so often I remember that excitement I felt at the prospect of getting to write it#and how quickly it faded when it didn’t feel as effortless as most of astraphobia did#and how that really felt like the greatest betrayal because it seemed as if the spark I spent so long trying to cultivate and light#was just doused with freezing water right in front of me. by my own mind no less#so… I suppose that betrayal will continue to haunt me still. probably until I pull myself together and write that fic#regardless of the pain and tears it will cause. and I know it will. that’s what forcing fics out always feels like#and I’m saying forcing out fics bc the only time I felt like an actual writer was when I wrote Astraphobia#all the other times I was just stubbornly shoving the wrong puzzle pieces together. or forcing square shape into round holes like a toddler#but regardless. I will keep remembering the idea and feeling like shit over failing at it unless it gets written#by me or kat and it shouldn’t be her job to write fics for me bc I’ll throw a fit if she doesn’t#exaggerated. but the point is there. I can’t expect anyone to disarm the triggers in my brain. only I can do that#and if writing that fic will stop me from getting hysterical at the tiniest thought of it. then it seems like I’ll have to see to it#even if it takes a huge mental load. it’ll be worth it in the long run bc I’ll have one less writing-related thing to cry about#I just wish I knew how to go about it better. I have clear ideas about the main part of the fic but the inciting incident + details evade me#I guess I’ll just have to figure it out. I have to stop saying ‘it is what it is’ and continuing to stew in the self hatred#something needs to be done. and in this case the only thing that will remove the trigger is the fic being written#I think part of me always knew that but tried to ignore it and hoped those feeling would fade with time. but of course they didn’t.#so… I guess it’s never been clearer what I have to do. my fate is in my own hands. one trigger less certainly wouldn’t hurt
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sluttywoozi · 2 months
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Interlude No. 5 | jww x reader
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Interlude No. 5: You've been laying in Wonwoo's arms for hours, watching him play video games. Or, more accurately, watching his hands as he plays video games.
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.3k | Pairing: jww x reader | Genre: smut
Warnings: dom/sub vibes, hand kink, finger sucking, fingerfucking, squirting, aftercare
Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina
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“Are you still having a good time, baby?” Wonwoo asks, his chest vibrating against your back and his chin moving on the top of your head with his words. 
You’ve been resting between his legs in bed and watching him play video games for hours, and even though your eyes are tired and your ass is numb, you couldn’t be more content. 
“Yeah,” you sigh happily, squeezing his forearm where it lays on your waist and watching his hands work the controller that sits on your stomach. You’ve been watching his hands more than the games he’s been playing, but who could blame you for that?
They’re just so elegant, his palms broad and his fingers long, the digits agile from years of gaming. They’re cold more often than not, though you can always warm them up by holding them between your own. 
Or sucking on his fingers, as you so often love to do. 
He loves it too, you can tell by how he always sweeps up sweet things for you to taste, whipped cream and frosting and chocolate ganache, and by the look on his face when you take his fingers in your mouth and clean them off with your tongue. 
There’s also the way he uses them to keep you quiet, to keep you pliant and wet and sweet for him, his fingers sliding into your mouth whenever you talk back just a little too much, moan just a little too loud. Most of the time, he doesn’t mind either of those things, but there are occasions in which it’s necessary to keep quiet. 
Like when you fuck somewhere you shouldn’t. 
You’ve got a decent list going of all the places you definitely shouldn’t have had sex: bathrooms at clubs, in his car after a movie date, on his car after a late night drive, at the beach (once, and it’s the only one you regret). All of those times, and a few others, he’s had to keep your mouth busy because you just couldn’t stop running it. 
It’s not like you’re complaining; you love the taste of his skin, the feeling of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, the way his eyes get so deep and dark and desirous when he watches your lips pucker around them. 
Sometimes, his goal isn’t keeping you quiet, but getting his fingers wet to ruin you with them. You’re always soaked enough for him to just dive in, but he likes the added teasing of making you lick his fingers until they’re almost as wet as your pussy before he finally pushes them inside. 
That just gets you hotter, gets you so aroused, they can glide right in. 
Which, of course, makes you think of the way he uses them to make you cum. 
He’s so precise with it, always taking you apart step by step, demolishing you floor by floor. He’s so in tune with your body by now that he can make you cum in minutes, sometimes before you’re ready. Even on days where it’s harder for you to find that release, he doesn’t give up, growing almost methodical in his movements until you finally break for him. 
And that’s always how it feels, like you’re breaking into pieces, like your seams are ripping and your dam is breaking, and when you flood him, he thanks you for it. Then, as if you’re an undone puzzle, he puts you back together, finding the edges that fit and locking them in place with gentle hands and a soothing voice. 
“Y/n? You okay?” Wonwoo asks from behind you, his voice soft and inquisitive.
“Yeah, why?” You answer perhaps a bit too quickly, your heart starting to race as he pauses his game and sets the controller aside. 
“Because your foot is wiggling and you’re breathing fast,” he says, pressing his hands to your abdomen and smoothing them up to rest under your breasts. “And your heart is pounding.”
“Oh, um,” you stall, trying to think of an explanation that actually makes sense. 
“You’re either anxious or turned on, and whichever it is, I wanna help,” he murmurs into your hair, taking a surreptitious sniff and smooching your crown. 
“Well, I’m definitely not anxious,” you mutter under your breath, forgetting that he has ears like a hawk thanks to his poor vision. 
“So if I touched you right now, you’d be wet?” 
Fuck, his voice has taken on that edge, the one that means he’s already thinking about what he wants to do to you, how he wants to make you cum. 
“Maybe,” you squeak, shivering when one hand smooths down over your tummy to rest on your pelvis. 
“If you won’t tell me, should I just touch you and find out for myself?” 
“I mean…,” you fight the urge to tug his hand down between your legs, knowing it’ll find its way there soon enough. “I wouldn’t stop you.” 
He hums thoughtfully, and you just know he’s contemplating whether or not he wants to tease you tonight. You can’t tell what he decides until he reaches down and takes hold of your thigh, pushing and lifting it to put your leg over his. He does the same with your other leg, leaving you splayed open for him. 
Teasing it is, then. 
You’re not wet enough that it’s soaked through to your shorts, but you can feel the lips of your pussy parting with the position, feel your damp underwear rubbing against the sensitive skin, feel your heartbeat as it travels down to your clit. 
His fingers chase it, firmly sliding down the seam of your lounge shorts and back up, rubbing you through two layers until you’re rocking into his hand, ready to beg for more. 
He anticipates your needs, tugging your shorts and panties to the side before dragging his fingers through your folds, hissing a quiet swear at the wetness he finds. 
“Knew it,” he chuckles, making you squirm self consciously. He stills you by wrapping his free arm around your waist, anchoring you to his body and holding you in place as his fingers glide over your clit. 
You want to buck your hips into the pressure but you can’t, not with your legs stuck on either side of his and his heavy, strong arm banded across you. All you can do is take it as he tests different patterns, different speeds, different shapes, as if he doesn’t know the exact combination that will make you fall apart. 
How long he does this, you don’t know. You just know that by the time he finally starts touching you how you like, your eyes are full of tears and your pussy is still fucking empty. 
“Wonwoo, please,” you whine, tilting your head back and to the side so you can stare at his profile, watch his face as he denies you, like you know he will. 
“You want my fingers inside, don’t you?” He asks rhetorically, already well aware of the answer. “This is why you should just tell me when I ask if you’re wet.” 
“I’m shy,” you whimper, your cunt clenching around nothing as he rolls his fingers over your clit. 
“I know you are, baby,” he murmurs in a soothing voice, squeezing your waist in a comforting gesture before letting two of his fingers slip down and notch in your entrance, just up to the first knuckle. 
It’s almost worse than nothing, this little hint of fullness, this small taste of what you need, because you have no way of knowing when he’ll give it to you. Thankfully, there’s no if, you know he’ll take care of you eventually, you just don’t know how much longer you’ll have to wait. 
It feels like it’s been eons, like a lifetime has passed since he spread your legs and pushed your clothes aside, and you don’t know how much patience you have left in you. 
He gives you another inch, sinking his fingers in just a little deeper, your walls clinging to them, forming around them, welcoming them in. You take in a shuddering breath, your muscles tense and your head fuzzy as he slowly works you open. 
He starts rocking his fingers in and out, in and out, giving you more and more with each thrust until finally, they’re as deep as they can reach, thank fuck. You expect him to continue to tease you, to build you up brick by brick, so when he immediately curls them towards your stomach and into your sweet spot, you lose both your breath and your mind. 
“Wonwoo,” you sob, drawing out the end of his name and feeling your inner muscles clamp down on his fingers. He drags them out anyway and sends them back inside, his pace rocketing up until he’s fucking you with them, a slick squelch following every crook of his fingertips into your g-spot. 
“What, baby?” He asks, like he’s not currently two fingers deep and hellbent on sending you to nirvana. 
You don’t say anything, whimpering in response as his fingers grind against your front wall, your arousal seeping out around them and dripping down your ass to the bed. 
“Are you shy again? Or is it that you just can’t talk?” He asks smugly, just a hint of meanness in his voice, though that hint only makes you wetter, makes you needier. 
“You know…,” you gasp, attempting to make your mouth do something other than moan. “You know what you’re- fuck, what you’re doing.” 
The end of your sentence is a whine, but you got all of it out and for that, you’re proud of yourself. Perhaps you shouldn’t be, though, because it just makes him fuck his fingers into you harder, faster, the tips curving into your sweet spot with overwhelming accuracy. 
“I do know what I’m doing, don’t I? If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be this fucking wet,” he laughs, the smartass he is. 
You can’t say he’s wrong though, and soon enough, you can’t say anything, not when the arm holding your waist shifts up between your breasts to hold your throat. He doesn’t linger even though you wish he would, two of his fingers sliding up your chin until they sink between your lips and hook into your mouth. 
He tugs it open, presses his fingertips down on your tongue, making you moan loud enough, it echoes off the walls. Now the sounds escaping your mouth can contend with the sounds he’s drawing from your cunt, your whimpers and sobs and moans almost covering the obscene noise of him fingerfucking you into the afterlife. 
You don’t even think you need anything on your clit, though you do have one hand free, the other gripping his wrist for dear life as you writhe in his hold. You know better than to use that free hand, know he’d slow everything down, wouldn’t let you cum for ages just because you got greedy. 
It’s happened before, and you still have enough mental fortitude to prevent it from happening again. 
You’re nearing the edge anyway, heat gathering in your belly and spreading out through your whole body, blazing along your nerves and finally reaching your brain in a fire so bright, it’s blinding. Your vision whites out, your hearing gets muffled, and your pussy clamps down around his fingers, your walls spasming in overstimulation when he just leaves them inside and digs them into your g-spot. 
He doesn’t stop, his fingers sweeping back and forth inside of you as his hand jerks, drawing out your orgasm and immediately pushing you into another. This one is even more intense somehow, your legs trembling and fighting to snap closed, even with his own legs holding them apart. 
You can feel drool pooling in your mouth, feel his heart racing against your back, feel his breaths puff out on the side of your face, and then you feel nothing except for his fingers deep inside of you. A bubble swells in your pelvis, a pressure building like nothing else, and on the next curl of his fingers, you cum with a veritable flood, arousal spraying out of you as you wail and buck against him. 
“Fuck,” you hear him bite out through the roaring in your ears. His cock twitches at the small of your back, a wet warmth gathering on your tank that can only mean he came with you, and the last thought you have before you black out is God, I’m in love with a fucking menace.
.
When you wake, you’re at the edge of the bed, which doesn’t seem safe. 
It makes sense when you shift a leg and run into wet cloth, the memory of squirting all over his bed coming back to you in bits and pieces. 
Your hips and your pussy are sore, and so is your jaw, but then Wonwoo appears in the doorway with a glass of juice and a nervous smile, and all is right within you. 
He helps you hobble to the en suite, the bath already drawn for you, and holds your elbows as you carefully lower yourself in. You pout when he leaves, but you know he has to change the sheets so you just sink deeper into the hot water, content to doze until he returns. 
You know that when he does, he’ll sink into the tub with you, and wrap you up tight in his arms, and ask if you’re alright, if he went too far. 
You’ll tell him that he was perfect, and he’ll blush all cute and pretty for you, and then you’ll share a kiss, your first since the one you exchanged when you arrived at his place. 
It’ll be everything you need, just like Wonwoo is. 
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AN: when i was in high school, i knew this guy and i would go over to his house after school and we would just snuggle while he played video games and life was so simple and nice! this is the adult version of that i guess
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lecsainz · 3 months
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Can u do any kind of luke imagine with maybe a daughter of hades:p
˒ ⌕ DID YOU EAT, TODAY?
parings: luke castellan x hades!reader
an: this was my first piece that my sister liked? I'm sooo happy because she's picky, and I usually have to beg her to read anything I write. yes, I know it's pathetic, but I usually don't think my writing is good, and I don't think you guys will like it. I have a bit of a validation-seeking complex (mirroball girl here 😭
summary: where, after 18 years of surviving alone, you finally arrive at camp half-blood, discovering you're a child of hades. adimist it all, a hermes' boy might find himself perhaps falling for you.
( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )
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The camp was bustling with activity, but for you, the chaos of your newfound identity as a demigod and a daughter of Hades was still settling in. The moment you were claimed upon entering the camp, it felt like your entire world had shifted. As the campers dispersed for their activities, you sought solace by the lake, needing a moment to process the overwhelming revelations.
Luke, having noticed your absence from the group, made his way to the lake with a small cupcake in hand. Blueberry, your favorite. He approached cautiously, recognizing the turmoil on your face. The daughter of Hades, a complex puzzle of emotions and powers.
"Hey there," Luke greeted, sitting down beside you. "Did you eat today?"
You looked up, your eyes still reflecting the confusion and vulnerability that came with the newfound knowledge of your divine parentage. The mere question, though simple, struck a chord within you, resonating with a sense of care that you hadn't expected.
"I... I didn't really feel like it." you admitted, your voice betraying the uncertainty.
Without another word, Luke handed you the cupcake, and the corners of his lips lifted into a reassuring smile. "Well, you should. It's blueberry – your favorite, right?"
Surprised, you glanced at the cupcake, realizing that somehow, amidst all the chaos, Luke had remembered your preference. A small, genuine smile formed on your face as you took the cupcake. "Thank you."
Taking the cupcake, you managed a small smile. The gesture was simple, yet it carried an unspoken understanding. You hesitated for a moment before taking a bite, savoring the sweetness that contrasted with the bitter reality you were grappling with.
Luke watched you quietly, and when you finally met his gaze, he reached over to wipe away a stray tear that had escaped your eye. It was a gentle touch, one that conveyed more comfort than words ever could.
"You know, being a demigod is tough, especially in the beginning," he began, his tone gentle. "But you're not alone in this. We're a family here, weird as it may be."
You chuckled, feeling a hint of warmth amidst the emotional storm. "Yeah, a family of demigods with divine parent issues."
Luke chuckled with you. "Exactly. And you've got powers from the Underworld, which is pretty cool if you ask me."
Your laughter echoed by the lake, and Luke couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading within him. He looked at you, your smile contagious, and a goofy grin formed on his face. In less than 48 hours, everything you did seemed to become his favorite thing.
"See? I knew blueberry cupcakes were the way to go," Luke teased, nudging you playfully.
As you enjoyed the cupcake, the night air became a canvas for the unspoken. Luke's gaze lingered on you, studying your features. The flicker of vulnerability in your eyes and the subtle playfulness of your smile sparked something in him. His mind wrestled with conflicting thoughts. The prophecy and his allegiance to Kronos felt like a weight on his shoulders, yet the simple act of being there for you seemed to defy the inevitable.
Luke couldn't help but think he was treading on dangerous ground. The more he got to know you, the more he realized that maybe, just maybe, there were things worth fighting for beyond the plans of gods and Titans.
Caught in his own internal struggle, he locked eyes with you. His expression shifted between uncertainty and an undeniable connection that was forming against all odds.
And then, as if a realization hit him, you blushed, looking away. The daughter of Hades, powerful and enchanting, now bashful under his gaze. A small smile played on Luke's lips, acknowledging the unexpected turn of emotions.
"Stop," you said, your voice a blend of amusement and a blush that colored your cheeks.
"I can't help it," Luke responded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He made no effort to hide his amusement, which only intensified your embarrassment.
A playful slap on his arm was your immediate response. "Seriously, cut it out."
Luke chuckled, the sound resonating in the tranquil night. "Alright, alright. I'll behave... for now."
"Hey, Castellan! We're heading out. You coming?" The moment was interrupted by a group of Hermes cabin members calling for Luke. As he got up to join them, he glanced back at you. "You coming?"
He extended his hand towards you, a gesture so simple yet filled with unspoken invitation. With a slight hesitance, you placed your hand in his, and together you walked away, fingers intertwined.
The children of Hermes exchanged smirks, whispering amongst themselves as they watched Luke and you leave the lakeside. One of them winked at Luke, teasingly remarking, "Looks like someone's got a soft spot."
Luke shot back with a grin, "I don't know what you're talking about."
He glanced at you, a sly smile playing on your lips radiating a warmth that ignited a turmoil within him. In that moment, a realization struck Luke like a lightning bolt – perhaps you were the unforeseen obstacle in Kronos' grand plan. As he stared at you, the idea that his growing feelings for you could complicate the titan's scheme loomed over him, and for the first time, Luke Castellan felt the weight of a dilemma he hadn't anticipated.
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yawnderu · 6 months
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Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part II
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Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.
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"Can I hold her?" You dread the question. The way he asks it, the way he looks at you, the way you know he's going out of his comfort zone to come to your house, knowing you don't want him there.
"Sure." You put your pride aside, having the best interest of your baby in mind. The little girl is placed carefully in his arms, and it breaks your heart to see just how well she fits there, like a missing puzzle piece.
"She's so beautiful." He whispers, brown eyes fully focused on his daughter—his daughter. For someone who avoided the topic of family like the plague, the concept was still weird to even think about, despite the way the girl in his arms looked just like him when he was a baby, countless pictures hung around his house before they were permanently destroyed by his father in attempts to torment Mrs. Riley.
"What was that, Captain?" Simon crooned teasingly, leaning his head closer to the baby to try to understand the babbles that were slowly becoming more and more clear each passing week. Of course, she was still too young to talk, though the little girl loved babbling out at any given moment.
"She's lovely, isn't she? Shame she looks like you." Your words came out teasing for the first time ever since you saw him again, the banter in your previous friendship coming back for a second as he playfully glared down at you.
"Shame she acts like me too." He jested, the baby's mannerisms very reminiscent of his own. You poke your tongue out at him jokingly before looking back down at your daughter, the strings of your heart being pulled the more you stare at her. The little creature doesn't cry much, luckily, so you have all the time in the world to simply admire what you created— what you both created.
"Look at her tongue stickin' out." Simon pointed out to the baby's tiny tongue sticking out, a quiet laugh leaving his lips at the way she imitated you. You gently pinch her chubby cheek, planting a kiss on her forehead as a small laugh escapes you too. It's not hard for her to steal your heart, Simon noticed.
"Hush, darlin', daddy's busy flirtin' with mommy." He knows he's overstepping, but... it's worth the risk. He wants what you used to have back then, despite knowing he doesn't deserve it. He'll prove himself, Simon promised since the first time he saw you again.
"Just so you know, this—" You point between him, the baby, and you. "Doesn't mean we're together. Not a chance." You try to be stern, though you both can't deny the look in your eyes. Still, you resist, not wanting to be disappointed again. Simon leaving is an open wound that never healed.
"I know." He replied after a few seconds, not looking at you. His eyes were focused on the baby, holding her close to his chest as she cuddled up to him, quieting down from her babbling. He sat down on the couch, one of his fingers absent-mindedly running over the features of his daughter.
"I'm thinkin' of retiring within a year or two, once Makarov's dead." He starts hesitantly, not daring to look at you just yet.
"Do you think the three of us can be a family? I know I messed up, and I'm sorry." He finally looks up at you, though only for a short second before he's getting up again, gently putting the baby in her crib. He gives her a small plushie to cuddle, soft blanket wrapped over her tiny frame. He comes back to you, bare hands hesitantly reaching for yours before noticing you're about to recoil back. He doesn't blame you.
"I'll do anything." He swears, taking a step back to respect your personal space. You look away for a few seconds, arms crossed and a small frown on your lips. The thought of Simon leaving or dying is always there, eating at the back of your mind.
"You're retiring?" Is all you can ask, not bothering to hide the sheer curiosity and confusion. Simon has been a soldier since he was 18— it's all he knows. He has given up his entire life and family— why stop now?
"Yeah. Think it's time to slow down... actually live life a little, for once. I had to retire at some point, yeah?" It wasn't an easy choice at all. He has bled for the army countless times, lost his family because of it, lost so many allies he can't even count them in his head, yet the tiny girl was the one that made him realize enough is enough.
"Interesting." It's all you reply, eyes slightly narrowed as you look deep into his, seeking for any signs of hesitation or lying. You find none.
"I'm serious. I can be a father to her, and... a husband to you, if you let me. Just like you wanted." Just like you told him you wanted things to be. Just like he thought about before breaking up with you after 4 years.
"Don't have to give me an answer now, but I'm retirin' and that's final." He went to grab his backpack, pulling out a folder. He placed it in front of you gently before giving his sleeping daughter a soft kiss on the forehead, eyes fully focused on her as he memorized her features. It's gonna be a long time until he sees her again.
"I'm deploying in an hour." He mentioned, his back turned towards you as you read the papers. His will, updated to include your daughter. Previously, it was only you there.
"Not comin' back for a long while, unless things go well. If shit hits the fan..." He knows it's always a possibility when dealing with Makarov.
"You'll both have enough to live a good life." He was getting choked up. Not crying or tearing up, but uncomfortable enough that he was struggling to speak.
"Simon." You call out and he turns his head towards you, slight surprise in his features. It's the first time you call him Simon since he came back into your life— it used to be Ghost, much to his dismay, to place even more space between you. He never said anything about it.
"Something to keep your heart safe." You walk up to him, both of your hands holding one of his, placing a hard object in his palm. He looks down at it and his heart almost stops.
The ID bracelet your baby wore shortly after she was born. He nods his head once in acknowledgment, expression growing more determined as his fingers trace the outline of the plastic.
"Come back to her safe." Your hand hesitantly went to the back of his neck, pulling him closer until his forehead was against yours. He lets you, and you're both stuck looking deep into each other's eyes for what feels like forever.
"Come back to us." You plant a soft kiss to his forehead before letting go, basking in the slight sense of normalcy, ignoring your worthless pride for once. He leans down and returns the kiss to your forehead, nodding once. He stares down at you, memorizing your features the same way he did with your daughter before turning around and leaving, swearing to keep the silent promise with a newfound sense of determination.
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arminsumi · 6 months
Text
THE SPRING I MET YOU
GOJO さとる
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He hates spring because of "allergies"; he blames his sniffly nose and red eyes on the season.
Warnings : angst (heartbreak)
Playme : First Love/Late Spring
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SPRING 2006
You had met Gojo Satoru through a common friend — Geto Suguru.
Oh how many times had you heard him say, like a broken record;
"You really have to meet this guy, you're gonna click with him I just know it. You're like the same person."
You're like the same person.
Suguru'd nag you to meet Satoru ever since he entered Jujutsu High, because he thought he was... you know, just the kinda guy you'd fall in love with. And he hated to see you moping around, lonely and hopelessly seeking a lover that was certainly not "coming to you on a summer breeze" like your mother insisted.
So you met Satoru, by Suguru's demand.
And your first impression of him was: oh no; he's an idiot.
A loud-mouthed, obnoxious idiot. Inappropriate. Overconfident. Irresponsible.
And his first impression of you was: eh, she's too shy.
A put-together, attractive woman. Too proper. Too shy. Too responsible.
If you and him were words, then you were antonyms to each other.
But that didn't matter, it was just the peripheral view you had of each other; something still drew you into each other. Like the universe was drawing up a constellation especially for you and him.
What did you have in common? Nothing. What did you like about his personality? Nothing. But Satoru was always nobody but himself and you liked that. That's the thing about him that saved you from viewing him as an unworthy madman.
And you? He thought you were always trying too hard to be somebody else, someone you were not, someone you could never be — and he wanted to change that. To see what was beneath the diffidence, beneath the plastic sheet that you covered over the image of your self.
He wanted to provoke you more than anyone else, not for the purpose of eliciting a cheap reaction and feeling fleeting amusement, but because he wanted to get you out of your shell.
His heart was on his sleeve, and yours was wrapped up in winter layers even though it was a warm spring. Satoru peeled off the layers one by one, until finally he found his gold; your sweet, tender, loving heart. And once he found it he grabbed it in a way that showed he intended for no one else to steal it from him; his love, all his.
It was just beautiful from then on. You and him. Satoru and you. The two stars in the constellation that the universe specifically designed just for you and him. Only you and him.
How did the first date happen? It just happened. How did the first kiss happen? It just happened. How did the first slow dance happen? It just happened. How did the boyfriend girlfriend thing happen? It just happened.
Everything between you and him always just happened. Like Tetris blocks falling perfectly into place. Like puzzle pieces perfectly connecting. Like clockwork.
No friction, no tediousness, no miscommunication between your stars. You and him shared your minds, bodies and souls with each other.
Like you were the same person.
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SPRING 2009
Satoru's face trembled and nose reddened as tiny tears rolled out of his eyes.
This was the first time he had cried in three years. And it was a first for having an emotional breakdown in public, in the middle of a busy train station.
"Satoru, I'm sorry." you said to him. "I have to start my life."
"But we've already started a life here, together!" he yelled with a broken voice, in the middle of that busy train station. People looked.
It was Spring of 2009; you were breaking up with a 20 yr old Gojo Satoru as sensibly and sensitively as you could, but he still acted like a child.
When you and him had gotten together in 2006, both of you were just simple-minded, carefree teenagers who had yet to be shaped by the hurt of life.
Oh him and his prismatic feelings, they spill out the edge at the right angle and show a display of everything you never thought he felt.
"Things have changed. I've changed, and so have you. We have to move on from each other." you said, and he shook his head and looked at you like he was falling to pieces.
"I haven't changed! I'm still your boy. C-can't we talk about this at the cafe—
"—Satoru, my train is here."
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SPRING 2018
"—Sensei, the train is here!"
He was interrupted back then just like he's been interrupted now from his daydream of you.
"What's the matter?"
Gojo-sensei's blindfold soaks up his tears, but it can't muffle his sniffling or reddened cheeks and ears. His nose wrinkles up and wiggles to the side as he sniffles and runs the back of his hand under his nostrils.
"Allergies. This is why I hate spring." he chuckles.
"Aw, get allergy medicine."
"Yeah yeah, I will. You rascals catch your train before it runs off without you." Gojo
「じゃあ!」 Yuji raises a hand of goodbye to his teacher and boards the train with Megumi and Nobara.
He waves goodbye to his students, lifting his blindfold to catch a peek before the train carries them out of sight. His smile drops when they can no longer see him at all.
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He stares for a long moment at the place where you once stood, and remembers two memories;
One late spring you were on your tip-toes kisssing him for the first time.
And one late spring you were waiting for your train, breaking his heart with goodbye.
© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
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soapoet · 6 months
Text
Your first time with them (18+)
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like & rb if it resonates ♡
01.
Shufflemancy: Bad seed by Beach weather
Your first time with your person is like the reward of a good hunt, the prey finally caught, and the chase coming to an end to make room for the feast. It may have been an extended game of knowing looks and eyes burning with desire across the room. It may have not been appropriate then, and for some this could mark the end of a right person wrong time scenario. Either one of you may have ended a relationship the other was anticipating, knowing their door would be the first to be knocked on once these prior entanglements had been cut loose and moved on from. There really seems to be no surprise here, as you were already intimate through longing stares. Those wandering eyes frequently looking to catch glimpses of prized skin you knew was inevitable for you to claim.
Time seems to be a scarce currency after this dreadful wait, so none is wasted. The push and pull dynamic that was there all along finally expresses itself physically, with almost aggressive passion, as though the two of you are getting back at each other for the wait. You both want everything all at once but try to pace yourselves to the best of your abilities, hard though it seems, considering you both want to sink your teeth into each other. Clothes, another irritating barrier it seems, come off on the way down halls and over thresholds, desire and desperation painting the bedroom walls long before you finally collapse into the sheets to claim and to be claimed.
You are both active participants, and this is not an act that happens to one at the hands of the other, but a dynamic escapade leaving you both breathless. Movement crafted in perfect synchronicity as though your bodies were meant to partake in this dance together all along. This could go on for quite a while as you're making up for lost time, and the need to merge with each other fully, to make two become one, becomes all-consuming, and the pleasure intoxicating like the finest, most exquisite wine. This is truly all those illicit daydreams becoming realised at last, hands and eyes and lips and tongues demanding to find and imprint upon everything you could not before, back when it was forbidden or impossible to make true due to unfortunate and frustrating circumstances. This release of anticipation, the thrist quenched at last, lends so much stamina and passion, the desire to continue on and on and on, to dive back into the linens when your breaths are caught time after time, to again and again chase down pleasure and lay claim to the hills and valleys of flesh you've yearned for.
02.
Shufflemancy: Dress by Taylor Swift
The chemistry was undeniable for quite a while, wasn't it? Though it was thinly veiled in confusion and many doubts and what ifs, the both of you could see it all along. Just how perfectly you could fit like puzzle pieces together in an intricate web of art. It seemed to be but a matter of time before the sparks would cause everything to catch on fire. You may have spent a bit of time in mutual pining, and worse yet, the both of you were well aware, though doubts clouded your judgement. Certain you were deluding yourself, reading much too far into it, there always had to be some rational explanation, and yet, each and every time you two would meet, those doubts and their noise were nowhere to be seen. The only music playing which you knew for certain were the feelings you held for the other, and how every glance and word and the language spoken by their physical body told you that it was true. That the feeling was mutual.
Something that stands out to me is that there is next to no physical contact prior to the first time with your person. You spend quite a bit of time in each other's presence, though somewhat sparce, few and far in between, and when you do the air in the room seems ablaze as your minds mingle when you speak. But physically? You may sit or stand close enough, but there is almost like a barrier between you, a yellow tape saying do not cross, invisible to all but the two of you who seem so aware of this ravine without a suspension bridge. Once contact is made it is done in earnest. Pressure previously held back now boiling over in an overwhelming mess. It may be that both of you struggle to find the balance between rough and gentle. A desperate explosion of need once the leash has been let go of and you two may finally lunge at each other, tugging and pulling at fabric and limbs to quickly tie yourselves into a double knot.
For some of you this can occur first inside an official building of sorts, or where this display of affection and desire appears improper or ill-advised. An office, a classroom, dormitory, studio, somebody else's home, or any place where there are people not too far and the chance of getting caught is high and your actions considered very risky. There will be a pause and an interruption to these advances, mostly due to your own sensibilities. Nervous smiles and quiet sorry's exchanged for the sudden charge and uncontrolled eruption of passion, and even quieter arrangements made to continue this journey in a better location at a better time. Even then, once truly given privacy and freedom to explore each other, few articles of clothing make it off your bodies as you embrace, because the need has by then grown immeasurable and requires immediate release, and may be rather rough around the edges, with desperation leaving behind many marks across flushed skin.
03.
Shufflemancy: I'm with you by Vance Joy
How delightful and sweet it can be, the intimacy between two who have journeyed through life together for long enough to truly know and trust each other. This connection feels quite pure and quaint, but giddy and bright like a fizzy drink. There is a firm and stable foundation which the two of you stand upon, always able to lean on one another, with so many secrets to share and jokes no other could understand whispered, or simply relayed in knowing looks. For some, this is a lifelong friend, a bond built upon over many years, and for others this is one of those friends who you meet seemingly once in a lifetime, wherein two weeks is all it takes to feel as though you have spent decades side by side.
So what then, when those delicate feelings begin to grow and bud and bloom? For a while you may both hide those petals, certain that though they are so soft and delicate, they would cut and tear that which you have built together. It slowly but surely grows past any veils you try to hide them behind, and the two of you both notice, yet dare not say. This line right between friendship and something more, such a scary one to cross, a terrifying leap of faith to take when the concern is that something so precious could shatter upon impact and forever change and make strangers out of dear friends and could-be-loves who could not.
One of you will finally blurt it out. It may be a little sudden, even awkward in its delivery, yet so endearing in its honesty. The dynamic between the two of you at last called out for what it is, and what it has become over the past weeks or months, or how it perhaps always was but neither dared to rock the boat in fear of ruin. And it is met with such relief. Intimacy may not even happen right away, just a gentle hand finding its match and lips brushing against the other. So cautiously exploring uncharted territory. Intimacy itself will feel a little silly too, like the many barriers, buckles and zippers and hooks and all suddenly appear so complicated and in need of instruction manuals. Many giggles are shared as you fumble through it together. Your first time is very sweet and romantic, a little bit of a mess as you stumble through this sudden shift of what you have now become, but happy accidents nevertheless, and one which feels like a sigh of relief and gentle bliss as you spill and blend together like watercolour on paper.
04.
Shufflemancy: Don't delete the kisses by Wolf Alice
Oh my dear, you may feel quite nervous about the mere thought of letting someone close to you like this. To bare it all before another, such a frighteningly vulnerable position to put yourself in. You could have avoided this for a long time, some of you even wonder if there perhaps was something wrong with you, faulty wiring, or worse yet, feeling altogether broken beyond repair. You may have quite a few concerns for a variety of reasons. For some of you it could be a haunting past or terrible past lovers, and for others, excruciating insecurity and inability to relax and let the currents take you away, much too preoccupied with worries about how you look and sound to be in the moment at ease in your own skin. For a few, all the aforementioned reasons mixed into one.
A huge amount of trust is required before your defences ease up and you agree to lower the drawbridge to your castle. Your person could be your first, or at the very least the first to make you feel safe and allowed to have a say in the script. This could ultimately be your idea, a concept entirely new to you, as you are the one to pursue an intimate touch and allow the other in. Regardless which role you fall into, you feel more in control and it is less intimidating when you know that the reins are in your hands, with a lover who is so careful and gentle with you and knows you so truly, wishing you no harm.
Your first time with this person very much serves as a mark in your timeline as a huge leap of faith and overcoming fear and insecurity. They make you feel beautiful and safe, like a priceless figurine of glass, an heirloom meant to be handled with great and gentle care, respect, and devotion. Everything is slow and steady, and very sensual. Very much a feast to all the senses which will be firing all your nerves and make you feel weak and leave you trembling. It is as though time stops to make a bubble for just the two of you, to have no need to rush, to make sure the both of you are alright and enjoy every featherlight touch and sweet caress. A lot of eye contact is made, in particular when you make it over the hill and find that love has a face and it is right in front of you, and you're held close with such tender care you may shed a few tears.
05.
Shufflemancy: Take me to church by Hozier
Very peculiar energy, slightly confusing, much like the connection itself. You or your person may at the time be experiencing a very tumultuous period in life. Something is cruelly weighing heavy on you and you're feeling worried and hopeless and lost, and seeking any sort of lifeline to hold on to. And that lifeline quickly turns out to be the other person, akin to a buoy away from the shores, something to cling to in crashing waves when your body tires and feels unable to stay afloat and much less swim back to land. For some, it is possible that this stress is sourced from this person specifically due to the state of your connection at the time.
Feelings have grown but the roses around your heart carry thorns, so though they are striking in their beauty, they threaten to wound you more and faster and deeper when you are around them and they make your poor heart flutter. For some of you, this time may not even be the first time, instead the first time it feels special, carrying a purpose beyond mere pleasure. This could be a casual thing, the reunion with an ex, a friends with benefits scenario, something which was never supposed to be more than what was bargained for or supposedly left in the past. Yet somewhere, at some point in time, lines were crossed but no renegotiations took place, and for a time, which may have felt agonisingly long, you were left suspended in the air amongst the clouds of uncertainty and doubt.
Things really come to a head, as suddenly both internal and external circumstances add up to far too much to bear, and you simply crumble to pieces before them and they are fortunately quick to catch you and attempt holding together those shattered pieces. A confession through sobs, not even in the safety of a cozy bedroom but possibly in a car, a stranger's home, a storage room, or someplace else that makes this revelation of the roses blooming feel that much more misplaced and unsafe. Yet it is met with such grace and the aching heart taken in a protective embrace and the thorns pushed aside. Though the circumstance feels strange and the timing poor, it happens. One pair of hands desperate and in need of closing the gap between you, nails breaking skin whilst drowning and gasping for air like you're truly going to sink. The other pair gently but firmly taking command of your body and keeping you sane and there in the present, afloat and safe and breathing heavily, pinning you down with the weight of a body you'll come to see akin to a blanket made for anxiety, as now this person truly sees you and hears you and cares for you so deeply you might cry from a bittersweet mix of the relief of a survivor and the joy of victory.
06.
Shufflemancy: Break my heart by Dua Lipa
Quite a thorough person, eh? In all that they do, your person is meticulous and strives for perfection. Intimacy is no exception. This person is likely to be more traditional, and wine and dine you for a while at first and really take their time because they look for the perfect mate, a life partner. They wish not to make mistakes and choose poorly, because it would create such an unnecessary mess of heartbreak and wasted time and effort. Though they seem a little on the chillier side, they are romantic and have a taste for finer indulgences. And thus, intimacy with you is certainly a planned event well in advance with everything just right as if the occasion is an offering to a deity worth worship.
The wait, the slower pace of the connection itself, may be to you as new, refreshing and welcome as it is frustrating. You could've experienced previous encounters which burnt quick and fast but also faded just as swiftly, so the careful and by-the-book attentive diligence of this person is so promising and makes you feel quite special. Yet you feel the ever-increasing desire growing almost painful at the very core of your being. Nearly frightened by the power which the other holds over you. The almost urgent need for friction, for the warmth of the flame, only held back by the certainty of knowing they'd only deny you and your rushed advances because they want to take their time to fit you into their life and create the perfect step by step choreography to your romance.
Until finally, dimly lit rooms with cascading golden hues reflecting off of silks, soft tunes from the other room where a pair of empty glasses stand, as you fall into soft sheets and dainty petals. There, at last, devoured whole, consumed by desire and claimed by what you've yearned for so earnestly for so long you could've sworn you were going mad. Release, the green light to finally leap off the edge and let yourself be at the mercy of freefall. This person is observant, and determined to learn of every freckle, every nook, and send shivers skipping across your skin wherever they go on their quest to map you out like a tireless explorer on an adventure and in search of treasure. They communicate so clearly and seem so intuitive, as though they have a degree in your body language and are going for a doctorate through trial an error, and finding just the right pace and pressure to send you to the skies above to unite with the stars.
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sugurufic · 2 months
Text
I Wanna Ruin Our Frienship (Geto x F!Reader)
Summary: You want to try out a tiktok trend with your friend who you maybe have a crush on
Word Count: 1.1k
Content: Fluff :)
masterlist
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You’ve been seeing this trend all over tiktok for quite some time, but you never got the time - or courage - to try it out. You had a not so low-key crush on one of your friends, Suguru. His beautiful appearance was easier to resist when you didn’t know him closely, but lately his soft voice, his pretty eyes, and his silky hair have been plaguing your thoughts.
So you finally got the time and the courage to try this trend on him, confessing your attraction to him in disguise. And you could use the trend as a perfect cover-up, in case he didn’t like you back. Easy-peasy!
You’re both sitting in the parking lot in your car, having just done shopping for your essentials, snacks, instant ramen, coffee and period care stuff. 
“Suguru, there’s this trend on tiktok…” You start, setting your phone on the dashboard and turn to him with your best puppy eyes. “Will you do that with me, please?” looking straight into his pretty eyes is never easy, but with the plan in your head it’s even difficult.
“You know I can’t say no when you look at me like that.” He whines, but the steady smirk on his beautiful face says otherwise. You love the way his bangs fall on his face, they compliment him well, you think. “What’s the trend?”
“I can’t tell you that yet,” you giggle. “I’m recording it just for us anyways,”
“Okay,” he relents with a sigh. “At least tell me how to act.”
“Oh, just be yourself,” you keep it vague. “I’d prefer your honest reaction,”
“Really?” he draws out, almost purring in your ear. You have to deliberately suppress the shiver that threatens to come down your spine. Sometimes, you think he does stuff like this deliberately just to get a reaction out of you. Instead, you grin at him, and press record on your phone and the audio starts to play.
Jenny darling, you’re my best friend, you lip sync, looking at Suguru’s smiling face in the video. You just pray that he hasn’t come across this trend yet.
But there’s a few things that you don’t know of, the song continues, and Geto turns to you with a confused frown on his brow. He looks you up and down as if trying to decipher you, to see through the lyrics.
Why I borrow your lipstick so often, you lip sync, and Geto wets his tongue, pretty eyes jumping back and forth between the camera and you, extremely confused at the lyric.
I’m using your shirt as a pillowcase, you continue, finally turning to him. You bite your lip as you think of your next move, body heating up in anticipation of his reaction. He’s looking at you now, foxy eyes focused completely on you.
Leaning forward, you put your hands on the collar of his t-shirt and pull him close so that your noses touch as the speaker says, I wanna ruin our friendship. You could swear he looked about as nervous as you felt and when you let him go without kissing him, he too had a pretty pink flush on his face, breathing heavily.
We should be lovers instead. He doesn’t look very happy with that. You’re scared that you’ve pushed too far, but then his big hand gently wraps around your throat and pulls you to him, kissing you properly. His lips fit against yours perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle meant to go together, so soft, so delicious and all-consuming. Geto has the best pair of lips that you’ve ever kissed.
You’re flustered, shocked, delighted and feeling like a dream all at the same time with the intensity of Geto’s kiss. His hand doesn’t leave your neck as the song continues to play, long fingers pressing down on your pulse point, making you shiver. The video stops when the time exceeds, and you finally pull back, nearly panting with the intensity of your emotions.
“If you needed an excuse to kiss me you should’ve said so,” Geto tries to sass you, hiding his pink face behind his hand. He’s playing with his bangs, a habit you’ve noticed he does when he is nervous. 
“I think both of us know who actually kissed who, Mister,” you sass him, suddenly feeling very confident. “I can still feel your hand on my neck,”
He clears his throat again, attempting to gather himself. His pretty eyes, usually full of confidence and looking straight into your soul, are averted as he asks, “So… did that song mean anything?”
“Only if this kiss means something to you,” you say, shying away from his words.
“Gods, I’ve wanted to do that for so long now,” he says, the tone of his voice sending shivers down your spine. If it wasn’t for his damned voice, he’d be easier to ignore. “I’m sorry I kissed you so suddenly,” 
“We both know you don’t mean that, pretty boy.” You say, narrowing your eyes at him with a smirk. You put your hands on his collar, pulling him close yet again to kiss him. He hits record on your phone once again, putting his hands on the small of your back to pull you as close as he can to the passenger’s side. This kiss is less intense than the first one, but so much more intimate - your lips move in a graceful dance, savouring each other's perfume, taste and the feelings that the kiss surfaced.
“Darling,” Geto purrs against your lips, forehead resting on yours and noses touching. “You should let me take you out to dinner first,”
“You need to ask me to dinner first then,” you whisper, lips brushing against his.
“I’m asking you now,” He says. “Let’s have dinner outside tonight, just the two of us. What do you think?”
“I’d love that,” you whisper before planting another peck on his lips then separating. You pat your thighs, getting ready to drive back to Jujutsu Tech. You can feel the change in the stale air of the car, but it’s a good change. Geto takes your phone to send the tiktoks to himself, grinning like an idiot. You like Suguru just a bit too much, and you hope that he likes you a bit too much too. But there are still things to figure out, and you don’t want to worry about that yet. 
The two of you are awfully cheery on the drive back, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by your friends. They don’t question you, yet. You’re getting ready, dressed in a lovely shade of red and applying a lipstick to match when a loud shriek deafens you. Getting out of the bathroom, you see Shoko and Satoru sitting on either beds of the room, a hastily dressed Suguru rushing in, trying to snatch away the phone in Satoru’s hand, veins popping out on his forehead.
“Give me back my phone!” Geto yells, lunging at Satoru. 
A/N: Man's so pretty I wanna kiss him stupid
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springtyme · 2 months
Note
Hey luv, hope all is well. So, I just previously read your spencer x girly!reader and I absolutely loved them. While reading the chess part, an idea sparked.
So if possible could you do something similar where Spencie boy and girly!reader are playing chess and she is obviously frustrated or something because she doesn’t understand. So being the amazing boy wonder he is, Spencer secretly acts like he had no good moves and the reader just starts pointing out the moves he could make not knowing he can clearly see those moves and he lets the reader win making her super excited and happy and immediately sets the board back and starts another game.
I just think it would be so cute to see how Spencer would just gaze at and admire the reader as she is focused and asks questions. If this is too confusing or too similar to the original chess part no worries. It’s simply a mere thought I had. Do with it what you please!!!
Love your works and your blog 🥰🤗
𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲 ♡
Thank you so much, hun ♡ I't makes me so happy to hear that you liked the other ones, I've had so much fun with them. And thank you so much for this request, it's such a cute scenario!
Spencer Reid x girly!reader|| Masterlist || Spencer playlist
summary: Spencer truly can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life. With you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters. You keep being patient with him, every step of the way. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot. All he ever want to do is make you smile, even when it means that he has to lose in chess on purpose. Part one & part two 💕
word count: 2.0k
a/n: I was actually in a chess club in school, but we did not play chess, so sorry if the chess parts aren’t very accurate, I tried my best, lol.
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Spencer watches you intently, his heart swelling with adoration at the sight of you trying your best. He can see the determination in your eyes, the way you furrow your brow in concentration, and it only deepens the love he feels for you. Your stained lips pouting sweetly as you contemplate your next move
You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back in your chair with a frustrated expression. “I just don’t understand this game, Spence. I feel like I’m making all the wrong moves,” you sigh, moving your knight in a random direction. “At this point I‘m just making moves for the sake of it.”
Spencer can’t help but smile at your frustration, finding it endearing how you get so worked up over a game of chess. Moving your knight wasn’t the best move you could have made, but he doesn’t want to tell you that, and it wasn’t the worst move either. He reaches out to gently place his hand on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but he lets his fingers linger for a little while. It always manages to surprise him how soft your skin is, and how it feels so warm and comforting beneath his touch.
You look up at him, your pretty eyes meeting his gaze and Spencer feels how his heart skips a beat at the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks.
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Some people use their entire life to master this game, and you’ve only been playing for a few weeks,” he reminds you. “You’re doing great, and trust me, you’re not as lost as you think you are.”
You smile softly at his reassurance. “So, what I’m hearing you say is that if I keep going, there’s still a chance that I can be a big old chess nerd like you?” you tease, nudging him playfully.
Spencer chuckles at your teasing, loving the way you always manage to make him laugh, something he hasn’t always had an easy time with. “Hey, being a nerd isn’t that bad, okay?”
“No, it’s not,” you agree, leaning in closer to him. “In fact, I think it’s kind of cute.” Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a warmth spread through him at the way you look at him with such affection.
Spencer knows many things, arguably too many things, but he will never be able to understand what you see in him, you’re so beautiful and confident and always so kind to everyone, there is no doubt in his mind that you are way, way out of his league, but he is grateful every day that you, for whatever reason, chose him.
“I’m glad you think so,” he mumbles, a slight blush dusting his cheeks at your words.
“I actually think you’re very cute, you know,” you say playfully, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of his face with a gentle touch. Spencer can feel his heart racing in his chest as he looks into your eyes, seeing nothing but love and admiration reflected back at him.
He leans in closer to you, unable to resist the magnetic pull that always seems to bring you both together. Your lips meet in a soft, tender kiss, filled with all the love and affection that Spencer feels for you. In that moment, nothing else matters except for the two of you and the way your hearts beat as one.
As you pull away, a smile tugs at the corners of Spencer’s lips, a smile that only you can bring out in him. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.
“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes shining with your own smile, bright and full of happiness.
Spencer will never be able to wrap his head around why you love him, but damn he is glad and forever grateful that you do. If he could travel back in time and tell his younger self that he would find someone as amazing and wonderful as you - that someone as beautiful and kind hearted as you would ever love him, he wouldn’t have believed it, he would probably think that it was some kind of cruel joke. But here you are.
It’s overwhelming, really, the love and adoration he feels for you in every fiber of his being. He never knew he could feel this way about someone, never knew that someone could make him feel so alive and complete. The fact that he feels so at home and normal with another person in his life is beyond anything he could have ever imagined.
But with you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters, you keep being patient with him every step of the way and with you by his side, it doesn’t seem so daunting anymore. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot.
“Oh, you got something…” you whisper, almost more to yourself than him. He is confused for a short second, until he feels your thumb brush against the corner of his mouth, wiping away the trace of lipstick that had transferred from your lips to his. Spencer chuckles at the realization, feeling a warm rush of affection for you. “There…” you say with a soft smile.
Spencer can’t help but chuckle at the tender gesture, feeling a surge of warmth behind his chest.
“You can’t keep distracting me like this,” you tease, leaning in closer to him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “I’m actually trying to beat you at this game, you know.”
Spencer’s smile widens at your playful tone, a twinkle in his eye as he looks at you. “Who says I’m going to make it easy for you?” he responds, his voice laced with amusement.
“You did! You literally said that you would go easy on me,” you pout, crossing your arms in mock annoyance.
Spencer laughs, a sound that fills the room with joy. “Okay, okay, I may have said that,” he concedes, “but, I don’t think you really need me to, you know. You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up beating me at my own game someday.”
“I doubt that,” you mumble, looking back at the board with furrowed brows.
Spencer leans back in his chair, watching you with admiration as you study the board, he can see the gears turning in your head. He knows what move he should be doing, the move that could make him win the game, but he isn’t really interested in that.
“Well, it looks like I’m running out of options,” he say, feigning defeat as he moves his bishop into a vulnerable position.
You glance up at him. “You could have moved your rook to that square and set up a potential checkmate in a few moves,”you point out, sounding both surprised and proud that you saw the possible move.
Spencer had, of course, seen that it would have been the right move to make, but he wanted to give you a chance to shine, and to prolong the game. Seeing the pride and satisfaction in your eyes is worth more than winning any game ever could.
“Oh, you’re right,” he says, trying to sound surprised, like he hadn’t seen that move multiple rounds in advance. But he must not be a very convincing actor, and he can’t help but smile as he watches the look of realization dawn on your face.
You roll your eyes playfully, seeing right through his act. “You’re such a goof, Spence,” you giggle, shaking your head in amusement. “But thank you for giving me a chance to show off a little.”
“I guess I just wanted to give you a fighting chance,” he says, leaning in closer to you.
You playfully swat at his arm, a laugh escaping your lips. “Dork,” you tease, but there’s a fondness in your tone that makes his heart swell with even more love for you, and he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, before leaning back again to look at you, his heart overflowing with adoration for you.
You playfully roll your eyes, but there’s a hint of gratitude in your expression. “Well, thanks for the favor,” you say with a smile, moving your queen in a strategic position that surprises Spencer.
He raises an eyebrow in surprise at your move, impressed by your strategic thinking. “Oh, someone’s feeling confident now, huh?” he teases, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
You shrug nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Well, you did say you weren’t going to go easy on me,” you quip, moving your pieces with a newfound determination.
Spencer watches you closely, his heart filled with pride at the way you’re starting to grasp the game more and more and making better and better strategic moves. He can’t help but admire your intelligence and quick thinking, feeling a sense of awe at the way you surprise him at every turn.
And yes, he might go a little easy on you from time to time, but he can see that you’re starting to understand the game on a deeper level. And that, to him, is worth more than winning a game of chess ever could.
As the game progresses, Spencer can see the determination in your eyes, the way you carefully plan out your moves and anticipate his next move
“You’re really giving me a run for my money, aren’t you?” Spencer remarks, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you strategize your next move. You give him a sly grin, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I told you not to underestimate me, Spence,” you say confidently, moving your knight into a position that puts him on the defensive.
Spencer chuckles, impressed by your bold move. “I should know better by now,” he admits, moving his rook to protect his vulnerable bishop. The game continues, each move calculated and strategic, and Spencer can’t help but admire the way you’ve grown since your first game together.
“Checkmate,” you say triumphantly, a grin stretching across your face as you realize you’ve won. Spencer can’t help but smile back, feeling a rush of excitement and happiness at your victory. “Well done, darling,” he says, leaning in to give you a congratulatory kiss.
“I still feel like you went easy on me, but thank you,” you tease, a playful glint in your eye. Spencer can’t help but laugh, feeling grateful for the opportunity to see the excited smile that is lighting up your face, making your already beautiful features shine even brighter with a sense of pride.
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn't,” he teases back, a twinkle in his eye. “But regardless, you did really well, I can’t believe how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time.”
You grin at his words. “Well, I’ve had a really great teacher,” you remark. “And he is, like, sooo handsome too. It’s actually wild that I could even concentrate on the game,” you add with a wink before you’re leaning in to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.
Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a surge of love and adoration for you that he can’t quite put into words, they are too big and too overwhelming to express, so instead he tries to pour every bit of that love and adoration into the kiss that he returns to you.
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him as he deepens the kiss, savoring the feeling of being so close to you, of sharing this moment. He might have lost the game, but because of you, he has never felt like less of a loser.
As you both pull away, a smile lingers on both of your faces, and Spencer can’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and adoration.
“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes filled with nothing but love and affection for him “Now help me set this board up again, I want to beat you fair and square this time,” you say with a playful glint in your eye. Spencer chuckles at your competitive spirit, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he helps you set up the board once more.
574 notes · View notes
exhaslo · 4 months
Text
Puzzle Pieces Ch15
(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)
Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14
Warning: Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, torture, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex, praise
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It was abnormally quiet. You had finally been released from the hospital and Miguel was escorting you to the car. It was almost creepy by how quiet the hospital was. Everyone kept silent as Miguel walked out the building.
Slowly entering the car, you rubbed your eyes and let out a soft cheer. Hospitals were never fun. You had enough time within them to hate them. Waiting for Miguel to sit, you scooted beside him and rested your head against his shoulder.
"Conejita (bunny), I'm going to give you a choice. I can drop you off at home to rest, or...you can come watch me torture Eddie. I won't force you to do anything you aren't comfortable with." He said softly.
You furrowed your brows as you felt your heart race. You had been in the hospital for three days and Miguel had told you what he had been doing each time. You knew that everyday you were injured, he made sure Eddie received dire punishment.
Part of you was nervous. You really did not want to see Eddie again. Not after everything he has done to you, but...Part of you wants to see Eddie get what he deserves. Would it be so bad to watch your abuser get abused?
"Um...I-I...I don't...k-know how I'll....react....b-but...but I want t-to s-say something...to him," You stuttered, shaking from your nervous. Miguel gently pulled you onto his lap,
"Shh, baby, you don't need to force yourself," Miguel whispered, kissing your nerves away, "You did so well for me already. You just need to watch until you don't want to anymore."
"Mhm," You held onto Miguel, melting under his touch and kisses, "M-Miguel...W-Will....it...be b-bad?" You muffled, moving your head back as he kissed and sucked against it.
"Yes. But I don't do this all the time. Only because he hurt you." Miguel hummed as he rubbed circles around your waist, "I don't want you to think differently of me...when you see the state of that bastard."
"I won't,"
You closed your eyes, enjoying his touches. No matter the outcome, you knew that Miguel could never harm you. No matter how scared you were, you felt safe in Miguel's embrace.
"You seem nervous, why don't I help you...destress?" Miguel chuckled lowly as he raised your skirt. You huffed your cheeks out, slowly giving in,
"O-Okay...B-But...be gentle...I'm still bruised..." You whispered. Miguel kissed your chest, grinding into you,
"Of course,"
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Holding onto Miguel as you entered a creepy warehouse, you felt your nerves return. Even after his little 'destress' session in the car. Hearing a scream, you immediately grabbed onto Miguel, hiding behind him as he led the way.
There were men everywhere. Each working on something or standing watch. Miguel asked you to close your eyes for a moment before he grabbed your hands and led you again. Something foul started to fill your nostrils.
You tried to breathe through your mouth, but you felt like puking. You were starting to get dizzy. Miguel must have noticed because he placed your head in his jacket. All you could smell was his cologne now and it eased you.
"We're here. It isn't a pleasant sight, baby." Miguel whispered.
Slowly raising your head, you glanced at two large metal doors. They slowly began to open. Once they were, you shuddered at the sight. There in the middle of the room was Eddie.
His face was unrecognizable and there was blood everywhere. His arms were tied to the ceiling and you swore you saw that his finger's were missing. His legs were broken and dangling as blood trickled down his body.
"Wake him up," Miguel demanded.
You yelped as Eddie screamed as cold water splashed against him. Just hearing his angry yell made you flinch. Acting on instinct, you hid behind Miguel and started to shake. You were terrified. Even as you saw Eddie tied up, you still held the fear of him attacking you.
"Fuck! You fucking asshole!" Eddie screamed. Miguel grinded his teeth as he felt you shake,
"Have you learned nothing?" Miguel asked, his arm snaking around your waist, "There's someone who wants to say something to you."
"Hahaha, what's that bitch going to say?! She's just a dumb little fuck doll." Eddie roared in laughter despite his pain. You felt tears form,
"I-I...I-I don't..." You whimpered but felt Miguel shake in anger, "I-I want him...t-to shut up," You begged. Miguel's lips twitched into a smirk,
"As you wish."
Miguel rubbed his thumbs over your eyes, signaling you to keep them close. He then placed some sort of headphones over your ears. They were soundproof so that you could hear nothing. Miguel hummed as he stole a quick kiss from you and proceeded to head to Eddie.
"She's really got you wrapped around her finger...or is she wrapped around your dick?" Eddie spat, forcing a laugh.
Miguel kept his glare towards Eddie as he kept his hand out. One of his men hurried and placed a knife in Miguel's hand. Ben was in the corner with a sewing kit, waiting for Miguel's order.
"Is shit talking how you ignore pain? We're going to have to take that away." Miguel whispered and slashed Eddie's clothes off, leaving him in nothing but his boxers, "You won't be able to do that much longer. (Y/N) demands your silence."
"I don't know what you see in her. She was only good for a quick fuck and her parent's supermarket." Eddie hissed. Miguel scoffed as he pressed the knife against Eddie's shoulder, slicing down, "Fuck!"
"Even if I were to tell you, you wouldn't understand." He hissed, enjoying the blood drip before slicing another part of his body, "Each mark matches one of hers."
"Argh!! Fuck! Fuck! You're fucking insane! You fucking dick!" Eddie screamed. Miguel nearly laughed as he kept cutting Eddie,
"I'm insane?! (Y/N) should have never felt the need to cut herself! (Y/N) should have never been your stress relief! Each scar, each mark that you gave her...that she gave herself, I want you to have but double. I want you to feel her pain!"
Miguel couldn't help but smile as he listened to Eddie's screams. If only you were okay with hearing them. Miguel wanted you to feel the joy of enjoying his screams. Once Eddie was covered in marks, Miguel stepped back and threw the knife across the room.
With a snap of his fingers, Miguel went to wash his hands as Ben started to sew Eddie's lips shut. Once the deed was done, Miguel returned to you and took the headphones off. He kissed your head, watching you slowly flutter your eyes open,
"Now's your chance to say what you want to say."
"Mhm," You were hesitant, but slowly turned to face Eddie. You felt your stomach twist as you saw his lips sewn, "Y-You...You caused me n-nothing but pain!!! I-I hate y-you so much!!! I-I'm glad you're s-suffering now!!" You cried.
Miguel smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His intense glare towards Eddie, whom returned the same gesture. Miguel decided to have some more fun and kiss your neck and shoulder, smirking.
"Mhpm!" Eddie struggled. You inhaled sharply,
"F-FUCK YOU!!!"
This shocked both Eddie and Miguel. As much as Miguel wanted to laugh, he knew that this was a serious situation for you. Once calm, Miguel grabbed your hands and took you back to the car. You were a crying mess as you kept cussing Eddie out.
"You did good, baby," Miguel whispered. You sobbed, hugging onto Miguel once you got into the car, "Shh, it's okay. You did so good. Let me take you home to rest."
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You sniffed as you buried yourself in your plushes and stuffed animals. It was already late at night, but you were having trouble sleeping. You raised your head as Miguel entered the room with a mug in his hands.
"Here, some hot chocolate. This should help you sleep," He whispered, handing you the mug.
"T-Thank you," You whispered, slowly drinking the hot liquid.
"How do you feel?" Miguel asked for probably the tenth time today.
"...I-I want...I want to say ill...b-because even after all that...I-I'm still scared t-that...T-Telling him off...felt so good...S-Seeing him like that felt...good...but...sickening."
"I know. My secret life isn't for the faint of heart. I wanted to keep this side a secret from you, afraid that you'd leave me." Miguel sighed as he sat beside you.
"Miggy," You placed your mug aside and cuddled into his chest, "I-I trust you...so...so much...I don't care what you do...I love you, and I'm so happy...with you," You whispered.
Miguel hummed in response and pecked your lips before stroking your hair. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep. Miguel finally let out a exhale, relieved to hear those words from you. Today made him anxious about your feelings, but you did so well.
"Now, to see how tomorrow will go."
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Peter smiled brightly as he arrived in front of a gorgeous house outside the city. He fixed his suit and tie and approached the front door. The first thing he noticed was a small drawing at the bottom of the door. It gave him a light chuckle before ringing the door bell.
"Can I help you?" A man asked as he asked through the intercom. Peter cleared his throat,
"I'm here to escort you to the city for final negotiations with your supermarket." Peter hummed. The door opened, revealing an older couple.
"I thought we already finished negotiations. It was a one and done deal," The man huffed in anger. Peter kept his smile,
"Yes, but our boss always wants to make sure everyone is...happy." Peter lied. The older woman huffed a heavy sigh,
"A drive to city at this hour? You must be mad."
"Oh no, ma'am. Our boss has made a reservation in the finest hotel in the city for you two. He told me to make you as comfortable as possible."
"Well, in that case, I suppose we can go." The woman chirped, hurrying to prep a bag. The husband still scoffed,
"What a pain in the ass."
Peter's smile never faded as he watched the two fools fall into Miguel's trap. Approaching the car, Peter whipped his phone out to send a message to Miguel.
'(Y/N)'s parent's are taking the bait'
Miguel was nowhere near done with your revenge.
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next chapter
@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things @daisy-artfield @mcmiracles @alexa4040 @llama--drama @kpopscoups17130000 @havkjhdecs @ruexvn @tojishugetiddi @openup-yourmind @black-swan-blog27 @xstarsdiary @kiddisquacking @gachagator @yujyujj @emmyrxx @blackteamint @sockears @black-swan-blog27 @soraya-daydreams @byjessicalotufo @nanoinn @bunnibitez @aockskcw @l3laze @dimitri-needs-therapy
661 notes · View notes
onelittlespiral · 4 months
Note
You should definitely do a preppy boy tf!
FML: Contact
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I knew I should have charged my phone before I left, but I was running late and didn’t want to miss my study session. I know, I know it was stupid. But the walk was only supposed to be a few blocks. I have no idea how I got this lost. It felt like I was wandering for hours, but I kept just going around in circles and ending up in front of this gym. Great, just what I needed before finals week. Maybe I should stop an- ugh. My bag spilled out in front of me as I wa a knocked to the ground.
“Hey, sorry bro.”
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It seems like on about my third time around the block I finally ran into one of the gym’s patrons, idiot. For the life of me I will never know how those guys will walk out in shorts in December. I started to scoop my belongings back into my bag.
“Here, let me help- Ah fuck, that could be bad.” He picked up my laptop and handed it to me. Thankfully it seems that there wasn’t any real damage, but a few deep scratches were carved in the metal and the screen was definitely cracked.
“Just what I needed today! Look where you’re going next time!” I was nearly in tears. I was lost, I was frustrated, I think the fall tore a hole in my khakis, and now my computer would be busted till after finals.
“Hey, I said I was sorry. Didn’t mean to knock a shrimp like you down. I didn’t even hit you that hard…”
“Well sue me if I don’t have time to get swoll bro,” I spat, “but some of us have finals to study for.”
“Oh dang, that’s where I know you from! English 110, with Professor Kim. Yeah, you’re always in the front and answering shit.” Immediately the puzzle pieces clicked. I can’t blame myself for not recognizing him. He must have been one of the dudes who sat in the back, and they all basically acted, talked, and looked about the same. A bunch of gym rats struggling through the gen eds. I’m genuinely surprised he can to class often enough to recognize me. “Hey man, are you studying for this final later? I’m just like not getting this stuff. Like, why are they having Exercise Science majors out here studying English anyways?”
“Uhh, yeah maybe.” At this point I was past the point of caring about this conversation. It was such a simple class I hardly had even glanced over the study guide. I had packed my things and was making to get up and leave.
“Here bruh, lemme help you up,” and he extended his hand to me. I grabbed hold as a small shock passed between us. It was just a split second, but as his calloused, sweaty had grasped mine, I felt a jolt that stuck my hair on end. I hardly had time to notice as he hoisted me up. “Hey, if you do end up reviewing later, maybe give me a heads up. We could do a study session or something.” He pulled out a pen and scribbled on the back of a receipt. Grabbing my hand again, and pulled me into a bro hug before I could protest. Up close he was warm and humid, sweat cooling in the cold winter air. He left the paper in my hand when he pulled away. He smirked, “You should ask inside, they may be able to help. I’ll see you later tonight.” There was a confidence in his voice that sent a chill down my spine. Before I knew it he had booked it, and I was left with a piece of paper, a broken computer, and a sinking realization I was still lost.
With few options left, I popped into the gym my classmate had just come out of. Maybe they would have a charger I could borrow or be able to help me with directions. At least it was warm inside. I walked over to the man at the desk, asking “Hey, sorry to bother. Do you all have a phone charger? I am completely lost and out of juice.”
“You can bother me any time,” the attendant said with a wink, “We’ve got some chargers in the locker room, but management is struck about people using facilities without paying. You already a member with us?”
“No, do I look like a member with you all? Please, I’m tired and at this point I just need to get home.” I groaned.
“Well sorry bro, you’ve gotta get those gains somewhere… let’s see, a day pass only runs about $5,” he slid the card reader to me.
“Fine.” I thrust my card into the machine and grabbed my receipt, storming off towards the locker room.”
“Enjoy your time! Oh, sir. Those aren’t the locker rooms they are the changing ro-” and the swinging door cut him off. I cut to the first door on my left. The overhead lights activated as I walked in. The inside was warm, hotter even than the lobby. For locker rooms, there were very few lockers. Just cooler with some sports drinks, some mirrors, and a charging station. No one else was inside, so I sat down on a bench and set my phone down on the charging station. With the heat I quickly began stripping layers, till I was down to my sweater, but I was not going shirtless in this place. It looked like it would be a while before my phone would be charged. I tried to put the whole situation out of my mind as I laid back and relaxed, carried to sleep in the thick heat…
I woke up a while later, disoriented and thirsty. It may have been a bad idea to sleep in the sweater, the thing was practically dripping in sweat now. I began to pull off the damp thing when I was shocked to see what was underneath:
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Abs. Pecs. Abs and pecs. I had to be dreaming, when did I go from a stick to having abs and pecs. Not only that, but my arms. Thick and smooth, my arms looked swollen, as though I had been working them out for years. And my legs, they felt like lead beneath me, so heavy I could hardly move them. I could crush a melon between my thighs. And my poor shoes, they were practically in tatters on the floor. My toes poked out of the remains, leather torn between my meaty soles. I looked in the mirror to get a full picture. If I didn’t see it I wouldn’t have believed it, I was a whole different man.
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I grabbed my phone and booked it out the door back to the front desk. The same attendant was there, looking me up and down as I passed by:
“Well hey there handsome. How are you enjoying our amenities?”
I just about strangled him, “What the hell happened? What did you all do to me?!?”
“I did try to tell you. Locker rooms are the other side. Those are the changing rooms.”
“What’s that supposed mean?”
“Well, look at yourself. Must have gone for the muscle enhancement, eh? Not a bad look on you.” I could just about wipe that smug look off his face.
“Cut the bull crap, I didn’t ask for this. If you all changed me into this change me back.”
“So sorry,” the apology dripped from his lips, “but things don’t quite work that way. For more specialized changes you have to get a full membership.”
“That’s a fucking lie,” I shouted, “You never said shit about this. I don’t need your membership. Change me back, now.”
“Woah, calm down there hot stuff, no need to get so worked up. How about this. My boss is home for the night. I know what you looked like when you came in. I can sneak you back into one of our specialty changing rooms, and I’ll calibrate it myself. Deal?”
I was about in tears, “Deal.”
He took my hand and lead me to the changing room all the way in the back. Same set up, same bench in a mostly barren room. This one was maybe a tad smaller. His voice came on over the intercom:
“Alright, now just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”
This time, deep red lights came on and that same heat began to fill the room. It somehow felt a bit different. The other heat wrapped around, this one felt like it pierced. In moments my body was flooded with warmth. Sweat rolled down my body as the room began having its effects. But something wasn’t right. Instead of shrinking down to my lithe self, my body felt like it was bubbling, and began to swell even more.
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“Hey. HEY! What the hell! What are you doing out there? Wrong way asshole!”
He chuckled into the intercom, “What? I think it’s a good look on you.”
“You’re supposed to change me back!” I shouted
“I said I would calibrate the room. I didn’t say how. You should feel lucky, you’re getting the VIP treatment for free!”
Everywhere sweat rolled my muscles stretched as my body began writhing under the feeling of its growth. It felt… it felt… oh god it felt… so…good. But it had to be stopped. I couldn’t keep going like this. I put all my effort into standing up and lunged for the door handle. It didn’t budge, locked from the outside.
“Oh, is this not to your taste?” he teased “Well, I already did smooth jock tonight. Fine, let’s try this then.”
The red lights switched off as dull LED’s took their place. At the same time, a mist began pouring into the room. The smell made me dizzy as I slumped back on the bench behind me. The haze curled around me and stuck to my skin. It smelled like aftershave, sharp and fresh, with a coolness that made me shiver. My skin began to tingle wherever it touched. I watched as my skin turned to goosebumps, then slowly a fine layer of fuzz began to coat my pecs. It grew and curled wherever the mist lead it. It blazed a treasure trail down my abs and branched out to cover them. I could only moan as my body pushed out my new pelt. It curled around my back as a forest erupted behind me. Working it’s way up, I felt a tickle on my jaw and cheeks. It caressed my face as a five o-clock shadow pushed out from my smooth face, and in moments a full beard was pushed out. It’s curling tendrils even worked on the hair I already had. I felt the hair on top of my head stand on end before following the mist into a thick mop. It worked it’s way into my gapping mouth too, and I felt my throat stretch and adjust, my moans coming out much deeper. Then it concentrated on my groin and pits. My previously trimmed bushes grew wild, quickly becoming a tangle. As my pubes grew around, it felt soooo good. I began getting hard, but the mist only took that as an opportunity. Something else to grow and curve. It stretched 6, 7, 8, 9 inches straight out before curving distinctly up. I was in pure ecstasy, with only the thought of the man outside watching keeping me from fully jacking off.
“Wow, what a grower. I knew you had potential but, woof.”
“You… won’t… *gasp*…get away… with… with this!”
“Oh, still a little rebel in you? Maybe we can bring that out a bit.”
The mist receded, and overhead the lights began to strobe and a loud white noise began to play. The pattern was disorientating and it hurt to watch. But even when I closed my eyes I couldn’t escape. A splitting headache developed as my emotions all turned to anger. I tried to shout, to call for it to stop, but my words didn’t even reach my ears. I watched in glimpses as I began to scream, deep and primal, rage in my eyes. My arm clenched into a fist and I ran up to pound the door down. It still didn’t budge but the shock sent a ripple down my arm. In the mirror I watched as in slow motion a full sleeve tattoo stretched down my arm. I sat down in pain and fear and anger as I grew close to tears. But the back of my mind knew that I could not cry, not anymore. Then, all at once it stopped. I realized I was still shouting. I felt pissed off, aggressive. When I got out of this room, I was gonna pummel that twink into submission.
“God, that one always gets me. I love a man with tattoos.”
“Fuck OFF” I growled. I looked in the mirror at the monster I had become:
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My mind was being flooded with emotions, a sense of loss for the person I was, a rage at the man who had done this to me, an animalistic horniness from my sizable new cock, and a deep terror for what else could happen. I channeled that fury and made one last attempt on the locked door. I yanked and rattled the door with all the strength this new body could muster. I felt the handle flex beneath my grip, before a loud *snap* sent me plummeting to the ground. The handle had come off the door. I banging against the door, shouting for anyone to come help me.
“Hmmm,” the attendant contemplated, “I may have gone too far with the rage this time. You’re a beast bro, but let’s reign it in. A healthy dose of this should help.”
A new cloud filled the room, this one thicker than the last. It was damp and sticky and clung to every inch of me. This one smelled rich and acrid, like an arm pit that had long since sweat through any deodorant. It was as though every patron of the gym had joined me in the room fresh from their workout. The fog was so thick I felt as though I was beginning to choke. It slid heavily down my throat and made my eyes water. That’s when I felt it begin to corrupt me. My enraged mind became calm, then addled as my brain filled with the all consuming fog. Memories flashed before my eyes as I felt them slip from my mind, replaced with false copies. I felt my college experience shift from books and classes to working out and tutoring sessions. My classes in journalism and writing were swapped for work out routines and remedial math. Then my cock began twitching as memories of hot workout sessions with my bros filled my mind, replacing my book club. As my mind relaxed and the new memories came to me easier and easier. My IQ was slipping down quickly, resting now somewhere around 75. As my mind relaxed I felt my body do so too. The cloud began seeping into my pores, filling me with its corrupting influence. My body betrayed me, greedily sucking up the cloud until the room was completely clear. I felt warm and tingly, my body pressed flat against the cold floor. I lifted my arm to get a good wiff of my funk. My cock jumped in response. God I needed to fuck. The cloud had saturated me, inside and out, soaking me in a new identity.
“How are you feeling in there big guy?” a voice was on the other side of a speaker in the room.
“Aight I guess man. I’m tired. Guess I passed out in here,” I replied. God, just waking up from a nap and I had my morning wood. The door opened, a cute bro was on the other side.
“Have you enjoyed your day pass sir?” He asked.
“Hell yeah Lil’ bro, it’s been good. This gym is stacked. I haven’t felt this worn out after a workout in a while!”
“Have you considered upgrading that day pass to a full membership? I know I would love to see you around,” he said with a wink.
“Mmm, wouldn’t mind seeing you every day. Gimme the forms.” He led me out to the lobby, I signed a few forms, and handed me a card.
“Now remember next time, locker rooms are over there,” he smirked. “Here, this is free with your sign up.”
He threw a tank top over to me. Good thing too, I think I forgot mine at home. It fit snugly over my huge chest. It made my arms look huge too. Just a shame I sweat so much after a workout, I already had some pit stains going. Shit, I was rank.
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“Thanks bro, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I strolled out the door into the cold winter air. I flexed, feeling the breeze wick some of my sweat away.
“Hey, excuse me?” Some dork walked up to me, looking desperate. I felt like I knew him from somewhere, though I couldn’t place it. “Would you happen to be able to help me? I have been going around in circles and can’t seem to find my way. I have an exam in just a few hours.”
“Nah, sorry man. I’m not quite sure I’m able to help. Never been good with directions huhu,” that’s when it clicked, “Hey, you’re in my bio class aren’t you? Ah shit, is that exam today?!? Fuck, I’m never gonna pass that crap.”
He looked a little flabbergasted, but made some excuses and was about to move on when I grabbed him. I felt something pass between us, as his gaze fell onto me, unblinking, “You should check in the gym bro, I know they can help you out.” I pulled away and the moment passed. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two receipts. The first was my receipt for my day pass. I scribbled down my contact info, and handed it off to the nerd. “Here, if you want to talk about lifting with me and my buds later you should give me a call. Looking a little scrawny bruh.”
He took the receipt before wandering towards the gym entrance. I then looked at the second paper I pulled out. Oh yeah, it was that hot gym bro from earlier. Yeah, I could meet up with him for sure. His name at the top rang a faint bell. For a split second, I remembered a friend I would sit next to in class. Smart, nerdy, nothing like the man I had met on the sidewalk earlier... But just then I felt my brain pounding, and I couldn’t focus on… whatever it was I was thinking about. Oh, right. Hot jock. Yeahhh, I’m gonna go see if he wants these rank pits shoved in his face while I ride his cock.
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Maybe not what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy anyways ❤️
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ineffable-endearments · 8 months
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Please let them hold each other when they are both alive and awake and relieved.
Please let Crowley be gentled. Let him be touched by trembling, soft hands and hugged by trembling, soft arms that have yearned to feel him in this way for millennia. Let Aziraphale's embrace wake in him a new understanding of his own importance, of his serpent eyes and his questions and his whole self as the very center piece of the puzzle that Aziraphale has been putting together since the beginning. Let him feel, in a hold that is gentle on the inside and protective on the outside, how infinitely wanted he is.
Please let Aziraphale be held so, so close. Let him feel the longing that Crowley has dammed up inside for thousands of years, and let him learn how it feels to make that desperation into fulfillment. Let him sense with dawning wonder that he, with his worn-down waistcoat and hard-learned French and spectacles he doesn't need, is the greatest good his favorite person has ever known. Let him feel in his counterpart's snug embrace how cherished he is, how much better he is than "good enough."
I'm not gonna lie, I would really love to see another kiss, now that kissing is narratively relevant. I'd like to see a passionate but gentle one, maybe to symbolize the overcoming of the pain they were feeling during the last few minutes of S2E6, to symbolize them finally, finally, at long last, being on the same page.
But more even than that...please let them hold and be held. They've been each other's emotional holding space for thousands of years. They've been each other's place where it was OK to question, to enjoy the world, to be soft. Please let them act it out.
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kakushino · 7 months
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Knot Enough
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Werewolf! Tomioka Giyuu x AFAB! Reader
Giyuu is hit by an unanticipated rut.
Tags: smut, in heat/rut, pheromones acting as aphrodisiac, knotting [& creampie (obviously)], possessiveness Word count: 2,4k
Masterlist
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It was the start of an extended weekend - holiday on Thursday and you took Friday off - and you were happy to finally catch up on your anime binging. All was peaceful, you were in just your panties and an oversized shirt for comfort; you got through two episodes so far, you were stocked up on snacks and drinks, content to spend three days alone before your date with your new boyfriend, Giyuu.
You had met Giyuu through a friend of a friend and you hit it off very quickly. You just sort of… clicked together, like missing puzzle pieces, or soulmates or whatever. It was three months in, and you couldn’t be happier. You hadn’t yet passed the kissing stage, but Giyuu seemed a little shy, which was perfectly fine. It wasn’t as if either of you were uncontrollable horny teens.
You were in the middle of watching a mage and his apprentice acquire a grim familiar during a tension filled-scene when your doorbell rang. 
“Fuck-!” you were so into it, the noise nearly made you jump out of your skin. Pausing the episode and putting your snacks on the coffee table, you padded over to the front door. The peeking hole showed you your boyfriend with a troubled expression. Worried, you quickly opened it. “Giyuu?”
The sound of your voice snapped him from a trance and his fever-bright eyes met yours. A smile spread on his face and slight blush decorated his cheeks when he walked forward without asking to come in. Unusual.
“Is everything okay?” The door closed.
Your boyfriend didn’t respond, kicking off his shoes - another odd thing, he was a very neat person - and tugging you into a tight hug, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply. A shudder seemed to go through him the moment he took you in.
He spoke at last. “I know we’ve only just started dating,” he started in a low rasp. The sound of his voice so close to your ear sent goosebumps crawling across your whole body. “But my rut just arrived and I-” he cut himself off with a sharp exhale, his nose touching the side of your neck when he took a deep breath again.
You were beyond confused. “...rut? What do you mean?”
Giyuu’s arms wound even tighter around your form. It was a bad time to start explaining but he needed to, he needed you to understand and to act - to help him. “I’m not human.” 
You could only gasp. “What are you-?”
“I’m a wolf at times… and this wolf affects me even in human form. I need to-” he shuddered again, his lips gliding down your neck to where your shoulder met it. He licked the spot, trying to stem his hunger for you. “Please let me- let me fuck you,” he said in a breathy voice.
His desperation sent a flare of desire throughout your entire body. Your mind reeled with his admission. This whole scenario reminded you of the monster porn you read once or twice, but what did it mean for you? 
“Please,” he begged hoarsely, one of his hands pushing on the small of your back to press your belly against the bulge in his pants. 
Giyuu had never begged you before, he'd never expressed himself so boldly before. Just because of that, you were leaning towards giving in. 
It didn't help that he smelled so good.
"Okay." 
No sooner had that word left your lips, his own slotted against yours in a deep and desperate kiss that stole your breath away.
He backed you up against the wall, his hands holding your hips to grind against you and yours in his hair, the leather cord he used to tie it coming loose quickly as you lightly tugged on it. He released a sinful moan into the kiss, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.
Giyuu guided you both to the bedroom - you later wondered how he knew which room it was - tugging at your oversized shirt, clearly wanting it off, an impossible feat without pulling back from the kiss.
Just when you thought he would give in and tear it in off, he actually did let you discard it peacefully.
Your panties did not receive the same tender care.
With a growl of "I'll buy you some later," he laid you onto the bed tucking himself between your legs. One of his arms supported his weight by your head, the fingers of the other impatiently delving into your pussy to prepare you as soon as possible. One, two, three digits stretched you out in a quick manner while all you could do was sigh and moan softly, your eyes locked onto each other as you quivered under his form, mind hazy.
Giyuu had wanted to take his time on your first night… before his rut hit him. Now, he just wanted to eat you alive.
“I want you,” Giyuu whispered breathlessly. “I need you.”
You nodded shakily, still trying to find your bearings from the stretch of your pussy on his fingers. He pulled them away, making you gasp at the emptiness, your muscles clenching around nothing as you heard his belt buckle open. 
The sound of it had never been so enticing before.
You blinked slowly and looked at him.
You weren’t a virgin, but you had never seen a cock like his - thick and long and so, so pretty, with a strange swelling around the middle. But a brief glance was all you could get before he was onto you, kissing you deeply, sloppily. He was in a daze, his eyes half-lidded.
“Lovie, gods, I need you-” 
Giyuu lined himself up against your entrance and slid in slowly, the stretch of his tip entering you feeling so much more than his three fingers, even if it didn’t seem like it. “F-fuck, slow- slow downngh-” 
He immediately stopped and pulled away from your face, eyes glistening with unshed tears, guilt and anguish clear in his expression. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking so wounded as if he were the one being speared open with a cock. 
You breathed through the burn, your hands cupping his cheeks gently. “Just go slower okay? I’m not- it’s just been a while,” you reassured him. 
“I don’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you,” he leaned closer, resting his forehead against yours. “Please forgive me, lovie.”
Your thumbs caressed his face softly as you murmured, “You’re fine, Giyuu. You just need to go slow, okay? Can you do that for me?”
He closed his eyes, and hummed in agreement, sliding more of himself in slowly, as you’d told him to. He kissed you in an unhurried passion, enjoying you - your taste, your heat, your body against his. 
The burn wasn’t as bad this time, though as you threaded your fingers in his hair, you had to grip it tight when the swelled middle started to slide in. You broke away from him to breathe, clenching your eyes shut as Giyuu murmured apology after apology, peppering many soothing kisses all over your face and then-
Giyuu slipped in in his entirety, eliciting a deep groan from his throat. He’d swear later it was an accident, that he’d mean to just force his knot in faster so you wouldn't hurt so much, but he miscalculated how slippery you were. And Gods, your cunt was so snug around his cock, he could hardly breathe.
You could hardly breathe. So full. So hot. A fever spreading from your belly out to your fingertips - but not unpleasant. It felt good. The pain and burn faded instantly when you buried your face in Giyuu’s neck, breathing in the musky smell of his sweat. It made your mouth water and you couldn’t resist placing an open mouthed kiss on his pulse point, your tongue slipping out to taste him. 
His breath hitched, his hips bucked, and you threw your head back with a low moan when he hit the sweet spot inside of you with his cock.
“Fuck- sorry, lovie,” he apologized in a strained voice, trying to stay still. “Are you o-okay?” 
You only nodded shakily. “Please, mo-move.” You forced your hands to stop gripping his hair so much, keeping only one hand there while another cupped his cheek. 
Your eyes locked with his as he started to rock into you gently.
Giyuu’s face was flushed, sweat beading at his temples, lips parted to pant, eyes glazed over with an unnatural brightness. You probably looked no better, a mess underneath your lover. 
He kept panting and moaning softly, and this was the most expressive you'd ever seen or heard your boyfriend be. The vulnerability he showed you made you feel as if you would crack open - your heart so full it could not be contained-
“I love you.”
The words slipped past your lips before you could stop yourself. His eyes seemed to glow with happiness, and he sped up his thrusts. Your hands fell from him to grip onto his forearms.
“I love you, I love you-Iloveyou-” Each time he bottomed out, you repeated your feelings, and each time, he went faster until nothing other than moans and whines could escape you. 
Why did this feel more intense than anything you’d ever felt before? Why did it feel like you’d spiral any second? Why did it feel like you couldn’t get enough, that you wanted more of him, have him deeper, make him carve you out from the inside until no one else could fit but him?
It was a heady mix of greed and lust and gluttony for Giyuu, the not-human, the wolf.
“Pl-ease-! Ah!”
You could hardly believe the sounds leaving your throat, high pitched whines and animalistic keening, which only seemed to spur Giyuu on to be rougher with you. He kept eye contact with you still, his hands gripping the fabric of your pillow above your shoulders tightly, his wrists leaning against you to keep you from sliding away from his thrusts.
“Ghi-yuu-ngh-” 
His lips slipped open even more, in awe of how beautifully he disintegrated your composure; dew beaded at your lash line, your eyebrows furrowed, eyes half-lidded as you babbled his name, begged and told him how you loved him. 
And oh how he loved you too. 
He was going to keep you as his forever. Your cunt was too good for him, you were too good for him. Your scent called to him. He needed you.
More, more, more.
Not enough.
Giyuu fucked you like the beast he was, chasing his pleasure and getting drunk off of yours. This was the first heat he’d been even tempted to sink into the core of his partner and Gods, it felt so good. He’d never be able to not fuck you during his heat.
Thankfully, his heats happened only once or twice a year…
He pulled back slightly, slowing the fucking temporarily so he could put both of your legs over his shoulders before he picked up his earlier pace again. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his sharp nails - claws - digging into your skin. You could no longer keep your eyes locked into his, turning your head away and clenching your eyes shut, tears of pleasure falling, when he slightly changed the angle and rubbed along your sweet spot repeatedly. You let out a hoarse whimper.
“Lo-lovie, if you get- fuck- if you get any tighter - hah - I won’t be able to pull out-” he choked out, yet he did not let up. Deep down, he knew he would not be able to hold himself back. He needed to give you all he had, he needed to fill you with his love.
You clawed at the mattress, trying to find purchase, not knowing if you wanted to escape from the ecstasy or if you wanted more. Something threatened to snap in your gut, Giyuu didn’t seem to care as he pounded into you. “Plea-se-!” 
Your voice was music to his ears; if he could, he would hone his wolf ears onto you for eternity. “What is it, l-lovie?” 
“I- I c-can’t- plea-se- please!” you begged, not knowing what for - but you wanted it, you wanted something.
Your wolf knew though. “I’ve got y-you… you can l-let go, lovie-” One of his hands left your hips to push on your belly, making you infinitely tighter. A mistake, or perfection?
The bubble burst in the next slam of his hips against your ass. You keened, arching your back, more tears escaping your eyes. You were afloat, mind unable to handle any other stimuli than what erupted from your core; your ears rang, stars burst behind your eyelids, your mouth hung open. 
A strange vibration reverberated through your body, then sharp heat inside of you, and a slight burn from being stretched. Your brain registered that that couldn’t be right, but you could not focus on anything at all.
Giyuu was in heaven, his knot locked inside of you, his seed filling you up, and you lost in pleasure. There was no better place to be than right where he was - inside you, around you, with you. You, you, you, only you. Your scent enveloped him in a heady atmosphere and his teeth ached with need to sink into your neck, your shoulder. He wanted to truly make you his own.
But he wouldn’t. He couldn't, not without your explicit consent.
He already felt like he'd preyed on you as is, not pulling out, using you like this… he needed to make it up to you somehow. 
He needed to show you he could be your forever partner, he needed to show you he could be your future.
He lowered your legs from his shoulders to cradle his waist instead, half-laying on you, soaking up your presence in the post-orgasmic bliss. It distantly occurred to him that his rut had not yet passed, the feverish heat still burning in his gut. He didn't even know how long he'd need to wait for his knot to deflate… before he needed to fuck you again, and again, and again.
"Are you okay?" Giyuu asked at last when the both of you caught your breaths.
You hummed in affirmation, sore all over, throat hoarse as if you'd been at a concert all night. Your arms loosely embraced him as you cooled down a little. "So… not human, huh?"
He flinched. "I have some explaining to do."
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dividers made by the amazing @benkeibear
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