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#sometimes this show really told me what i needed to hear
brucewaynehater101 · 14 hours
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I typically go with Romantic which is just. So *oof*. Also, I can just picture it now. Dick asks Tim why he thought this was a good idea at all, why he didn't call someone for a ride and Tim simply replies, "I've been getting back to Gothem on my own like this for years. No need to bother you guys." and before he can even continue theres a chorus of "you aren't a bother" and "what the fuck do you mean?!"
Tim just takes a deep breath and says, "I've been getting back to Gothem on my own since before I was Robin so it was never a Robin or Batman issue, it's always been a Tim Drake thing." of course Bruce demands to know what Tim means by "getting back to Gothem on his own" and he just sighs as he sits on some grain, biting the bullet to just get it over with as he says, "sometimes when I went on trips with my parents they would get into arguments and leave in separate cars. And both of them would think the other one took me with them. And I always showed up at home safe and sound a few days later so they never really questioned it. Ha, first time was actually at a Gala in New York. I remember they were fighting about what dig site to go to and that night Mom got on a flight to Siberia while Dad got on a flight to The Congo. I snuck my little nine year old self onto a gray hound bus and rode it all the way to Gothem and then walked back to the manor."
Tim goes on to tell them about other times, somewhere between venting about his trauma and reminiscing about times he looks back on fondly. The fight that left him in Panama Beach when he was 11, the one that left him in Denver when he was 13, just 3 weeks before he became Robin, the one when he was 15 and was abandoned in Atlanta, the time when they left him somewhere in *Canada* and the time he was left in *Mexico City* when he was 14. He even laughs about having to sneak onto a cargo ship when his parents left him in Paris, France when he was 16. He comments that that one was actually a few weeks after he healed from the Titans Tower fight. Bruce and Jason are both totally not having a near panic attack about that last one.
Tim is living his life and forgetting that what he went through is probably fucked up. If it happened to another kid, he'd label that as criminal neglect. For himself? Meh.
(I know this is possible because, as someone who's been praised for being smart, I can be so fucking dumb. After explaining to my therapist that I've had anxiety attacks several years before and get anxious in social situations, I was shocked when she told me I had anxiety. Fucking dumb of me, but I bet Tim makes similar mistakes).
Just Tim vibing over all the "good times" he had and forgetting that it's fucked up his parents did that. He probably also felt really proud of himself for figuring it out. He was able to solve his issues and navigate complicated problems (like crossing borders without a passport) all by himself! Isn't that so cool!
The poor batfam is having heart attack after heart attack hearing all of this. It's another aspect of Tim that gets added to the piles of "things he hid from us without meaning to" and "why digging up the Drakes to revive and kill them again is a good idea" (Damian and Steph mainly are the ones to propose the second option).
I love the examples you proposed! Tim really was vibing
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podcastkevin · 2 days
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Brought to you by my sister is a Steve x Wanda x Peter x Male reader fic...
My sister is confident but I hope it's okay....She literally went all out and may have included how reader caught Steve and Wanda and more so I hope it's long enough. We did have a little difficulty reading the request cause the way everything was phrased was a bit confusing but I think we figured it out to fulfill everything. Hopefully. 🤞🏽 🤞🏽 🤞🏽
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Years ago....
When you first brought Steve home, you were a bit nervous. Your mom hasn't approved of your dates the past few times and every time she's made you out to be a cheater so they break up with you.
It's completely unfair what she's doing to you. You love these boys and she's sending them off every time. Your heart breaks every time you try to get them back and all they do is yell at you, blame you, and ask you how could you. All you wish you could do is explain the fact that you are loyal and it's your mother who ruining the relationship.
You step up to the front door of your mother's house and knock three times, your palms feel sweaty, and your heart is beating out of your chest. When the door opens, she's wearing tight blue jeans, and a red blouse that she solely wore whenever you told her you were bringing your dates over. There was a ruffle along the sweetheart neckline and the sleeves connected to the outer edge of the cups, basically showing off her cleavage and collar. The sleeves also had loose cuffs that hung over her hands.
She was wearing over-the-top makeup with a bright red lip, and her shoes were red three-inch heels with a thin band around her ankle and a wide band over her foot.
You grit your teeth, putting on a fake smile and introducing Steve to her. She shamelessly looks him up and down and for the first time in all the dates you've had...she smiled. She fucking smiled. You had to question her mentally, no scowl? No forced greeting? Nothing? Maybe she can see how good this one is for you.
Yeah.....no.
Sometimes you wished you were oblivious, wished you hadn't started to notice that she wanted you to invite Steve over more often, wished you didn't notice she started to wear her more scandalous outfits that have been collecting dust in her closet.
Honestly, sometimes you wished you lived with your dad.
You really started to get annoyed when she'd call you from your room to do some stupid chore in the middle of foreplay with Steve. Every time you did, you'd glare at your mom before she walks off and unbeknownst to you, going to your room to chat with Steve....and by chat, I mean turning him on even more and telling him things that a mother usually would tell and describe to their son's boyfriend.
It was a Saturday when it happened. You were making out in Steve's lap when your mother called you. "Mn! Get down here now!" You groan, rolling off your bed and yanking the door open before stomping downstairs. "Hey! No stomping around in my house!" She snapped before waving a hand at you. "Now, I need you to go to the bank and get money for your dad, fill the car with gas and then get groceries." "No, mom, I'm not doing that." "Excuse me?"
"I just want some time with Steve. There's that, too, I can't just leave Steve." "He'll be fine, darling, just go. Your dad won't stop calling me." She threw her keys at you and you raise you hand and catch them. You really don't like the tone in her voice or the way she's trying to rush you out of the house.
Glaring at her suspicious behavior, you drop your fist, pushing off the kitchen island before turning and walking to the front door.
You're a bit aggravated the whole time, not even answering your dad when you drop off the money then speed off and you kinda regret snapping at the cashier when getting groceries but your mom just ruins everything.
Her car was actually already filled so that was already done for you so you go home. Walking in, you leave the groceries in the kitchen then go to your room but the moment you hear moaning...
You.
Are.
Livid.
Throwing open the door, it hits the wall behind it but neither stop. "You fucking jackasses." "Oh, hi Mn." Steve says as if it's the most casual thing to just be fucking your mom. "Shut the fuck up, you know what, I knew this was why you kept sending my boyfriends away. You just wanted the right fuck toy. No wonder you took a liking to Steve quicker than the others."
You happened to be suspicious of your mother for a while so you pull the black backpack out from under your desk and walk out. "I'm living with dad." "Mn, get back here!" Wanda called out but you left the house without a single word in return.
Now....
After residing with your father for approximately a year, you decided to move out upon discovering an individual in search of a roommate. This person was Peter, an equally attractive individual of the same age as you.
When you arrived at the apartment with only a backpack, Peter was genuinely surprised by how little you had brought with you. He kindly offered to buy you new bedding and pillows. You didn't have a strong interest in decorating, but Peter had already put up some of his posters in the second bedroom.
Peter and you, after getting to know each other, fell into a rhythm pretty easily. Friday's were somehow made into movie and take out nights.
Movie and take out turned into homemade meals.
Home made meals turned into restaurants.
and eventually, five month later, restaurants resulted in the both of you in one of the bedrooms. Lips locked and bodies tangled together.
You introduced him to your dad but whenever Peter tried to bring up your mom, you avoided the question. You'd find away to steer the conversation and although Peter was confused, he respected you and didn't bring it up anymore.
A few more years and shared expressions of love, the both of you ended up proposing to each other. Peter kneeling in a secluded part of a park where you two had your first date as an actual couple and you couldn't help but laugh with tears building in your eyes. It scared Peter for a moment before you're kneeling as well with a ring in your hand and it was Peter's turn to laugh.
The both of you say yes and kiss each other after exchanging rings and you couldn't be happier.
You waited for a couple months to start planning and when the weather was warmer. You talked about the guest list and all the details and when Peter gave you the list, you crossed out where he put 'Ms. Maximoff'
"Babe. Why won't you tell me more about your mom?" "She's a bitch, Pete. What she did to me was extremely hurtful and she should never be spoken of."
That got him even more curious and it started to kill him. His mother would've wanted to be at his wedding so why shouldn't Mn's be there?
You were out looking for a suit so Peter took that time to call your dad for your mom's information then he called your mom.
When she picks up, she sighs. "Wanda Maximoff, who is this?" Peters voice is awkward and shy but as strong as he could make it. "Um, yes, hi. This is Peter Parker, I'm Mn Maximoff's fiancé." "Fiancé, huh?" "Um, yeah. I'm calling to invite you to our wedding tomorrow? I-I mean my mom would've wanted to be at my wedding and I thought maybe you could be a surprise?"
Wanda hums and Peter could hear rustling in the background. "Can I bring a plus one?" If you were Peter, you could hear her smirk. "Yes Ma'am." She hums again and answers. "We'll be there." and she hangs up. "Oh, okay, cool." Peter said after pulling the phone away.
He didn't tell you until that following. "Hey, Nn?" He gently called your nickname and you turned to him after rolling over to face him.
"Yeah Pete?" You smile, pulling him closer. "I invited someone else...they aren't on the list but I just really wanted to meet them." "Who?"
A knock on your front door interrupts Peter. "I'll get it, one sec." You drag yourself out of bed and shuffle to the front door. Your peephole was covered so you couldn't see who was, opening the door you immediately slam it closed. "Peter Parker!!"
"I can explain!" "Better make it quick." "I just wanted to meet her, Mn." "You could asked me before contacting her!! I didn't want her to ruin the wonderful life I've built after she ruined it before." "Please? My mom would've wanted to me you." "Well my mom is a slutty lying bitch who kept telling my boyfriends I was a cheater until she found the right one who, oh, JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE WITH HER!!" "Mn, please..."
You were fuming, you didn't want her there for a reason but you guess Peter had a right to meet her. "I'm warning you now....that I told you so and she's a bitch."
With that, you yank the door back open and stare at Wanda. "Wanda, Steve, how terrible it is to see you." "Mn!" Peter scolds and you roll your eyes. "I'm sorry about him. I'm Peter." "Hm, Peter. Nice to meet you." You know the glint in her eye and you can't stop yourself from stoping her.
"Wanda, No." "What? I think he's cute. Chill, I won't take him." You glare at her and her tone before she lets herself in. "Come in, why don't you..." You mutter to yourself and close your door while glaring at Steve. "Mn, please behave. At least for me?" You grit your teeth and huff out a breath. "Fine."
Peter sat with your mom and you sat at the counter that faces the living room. An hour later, you sigh audibly. "Okay! How about we go to bed, yeah? Bitch, guest room. Jackass, Couch." Peter slaps your arm when you walked over and he stood up to join you. "Um, you guys can choose either the couch or Mn's old room which is now the guest room." Peter says and you go to interject and repeat that Wanda is a slut but one look and you huff, turning and walking off.
When both of your are in bed, your still scowling. "Mn, stop scowling." "I'm telling you now that they should be separated. They are going to fuck and won't care that we're-" You instantly hear a moan and possibly the sound of your flower vase falling off the coffee table.
"Fucking damn it, Peter." "I didn't do anything!" "But I told you so!!" You throw open the door and storm into the living room. "You fucking asshats, are you serious?!" Wanda was on her hands and knees the length of the table, Steve's bruising grip on her hips as he thrusts quickly into her. "You both are fucking sick you know that? Like, I am being so fucking generous and I'm doing this for Peter's sake but are you actually shitting me?" You're not surprised that Steve doesn't stop, the squelching made you want to throw up but you roll your eyes and groan.
"Fuck it, whatever." You turn around to a wide eyed and shocked Peter, grab his hand and walk back to the bedroom, missing Wanda's wink and Steve's smirk
You went to bed pissed, head buried under your pillow and facing away from Peter who laid extremely hard and he couldn't stop himself from listening to your mom and Steve.
He barely got any sleep but woke up to you placing a kiss on his temple. "Sorry, baby, didn't mean to wake you. Still pissed from last night so I'm going in a run. I'll see you later, okay?" His eyes give off a sad look but it was really desperation. "I'm not mad at you, m'kay?" "I know." You smile gently and kiss him properly. "I'll be back, won't leave you at the alter."
He waits in the covers, listening to you slam the front door shut and he exhales slowly before getting out of bed and making his way to the bathroom to shower.
The shower is long and it steams up the bathroom. When he finishes, he throws the clothes into the hamper after wrapping a towel around his waist and exiting the bathroom. On his way to the bedroom, he can hear moans and pushing open his door, he's sees Wanda and Steve. "What the...Why are you in here?" He looks to the floor.
"Come on, cutie, why don't you join us?" "No, I-I can't do that to Mn..." "Oh come on, Pete. Mn isn't loyal like he says he is." Wanda starts off the lie. "He cheated on Steve with three other people." She squeals when Steve thrusts deeper.
"W-We're supposed to get married today...H-He proposed to me at the same time I was proposing to him." "Oh, so he dumped Sam?" "S-Sam?" "Yeah...his dad's lawn care boy." Peter's subconscious was yelling at him that he knew Mn's mom hasn't been in the picture for years and couldn't have known about Mn's life.
"Come on, Mn's unfaithful. I see it's only fair to get back at him." Wanda says through small gasps and Peter walks over to her but stops. "W-Wait, No, I-I love Mn a-and he loves me." "Really? Where's he now?" "On a morning run." "That's what he told me once but he was actually seeing another guy." Steve played along and smirked. "What makes you think he's not off with Sam now?"
Wanda knew they got him when he stepped forward again, hand on his towel. "It's only fair...right?" "Of course." With that, he dropped his towel and Wanda laughs lightly, sitting up the best she could to lean onto one hand and use the other to wrap around Peter's length.
"Fuck, that feels so good." Wanda had a slightly tight grip as she jerks Peter off before wrapping her lips around his tip. "Shit~" Peter moans and Steve's thrusts make Wanda lurch forward, the woman taking more of Peter into her mouth until his tip hit the back of her throat.
"Sh-Shit." "Feels good, huh?" Steve asks, pulling her hips closer to his, the squelching noises going straight to Peter's cock. "C-Can I t-try?" Peter's eyes flickered down to where Steve and Wanda were connected and the other male grins. "Yeah."
The switch spots, Steve shoving all of his length down her throat and Peter slowly enters Wanda's wet entrance.
He doesn't stretch and fill as much as Steve but what he doesn't achieve in girth he achieves in length, hitting her g-spot dead on. Peter reaches around to Wanda's front and finds her clit, making rough shapes and Wanda cums instantly, moaning around Steve's cock and squeezing Peter.
"Shit, you really know what you're doing." "Um...porn..." "Aw, cute." Steve murmurs, thrusting faster, face fucking Wanda and Peter's pace picks up as well before they cum together, in Wanda's Pussy and down her throat.
They were finishing up their second round, double penetrating Wanda's swollen snatch, when you came home out of breath. You got in your head and ran from your apartment complex to the park five blocks away. At least you were calmed down....
but it didn't last long.
Walking in, you don't see Wanda and Steve and your settled anger boiled again when you walk down the hall after hearing a moan and your heart broke after kicking the door down and seeing your fiancé face fucking Wanda with Steve jerking off next to her face.
"You fucking jackass." You say towards Peter. "Are. You. Fucking. Serious!?!?" "W-Well, i-it's only fair." "What the fuck do you mean it's only fair, I've been loyal to you and only you for years now, for fuck sake I proposed to you as well!!" "W-What about Sam?" "Sam? My dad's fucking lawn care guy?! HE'S FUCKING THIRTY-TWO!!" "So?" "All of you are fucking sick."
"Shit." Peter turns back to Wanda, his hips picking up speed before he pulls out, stroking the same speed as Steve before both of them are cumming on Wanda's face. "All of you a pieces of shit. Don't be surprised if I fucking disappear from here because of all of you." You say.
You've officially given up. First your mom lying that you're a cheater to send the ones you've loved away, then Steve cheating on you with your bitch of a mother and then both of them lying to Peter to get him in on their bullshit. Might as well just live with your dad for the rest of your life since he's the only one your trust.
You were stuck in your head that you didn't realize Peter had walked over to you and started to drag you out. He opens the door and shoves you out. "What the fuck?" "Kicking you out." Then he reaches down and takes his ring off of you and throws yours next to you.
"The fuck, you actually believe them?! I've been living here for years, I haven't been anywhere but here and with you and you know that!! I work from home for fuck sake." You had a valid point, you know you did, but he shook his head. "Don't know what you did before working from home." He really believed those jackasses that you could see smirking behind you.
"Fuck all of you." Peter shuts the door. "I'm on the fucking lease, fucker!" "I'll figure it out."
You huff, you don't care about your shit, you're lucky you kept stuff at your dad's place but before running to him you stop by the front office.
"Hey, Mn. You good?" Clara greeted you and you smile thinly. "Sort of. I'd like to sign myself off the lease?" "Sure." You go through the process quickly before smiling. "Now~ I'd like to report that apartment 502 has one name on the lease but three occupants." She smirks, noticing what you've done and nods. "Thanks for letting me know. Happened you have a better day." You look at her oddly and she points over her shoulder with a pen where you see monitors with cameras.
"Thanks, Clara."
Now to go see your dad and hope he lets you drink away your sorrows...he probably won't...
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xerndrawz · 4 months
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goodbye to the first precure season i ever watched live...it was as if this season grew with me as a person and i. AUGH . im going to miss them so much WAAAAAAAAAAHHH
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ask me to leave and i’ll stay forever ; satoru gojo
synopsis; satoru is stubborn; even when plagued by such a high fever, he insists there’s no need to take care of him. thankfully, you’re equally as stubborn.
word count; 10.8k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, implied non-sorcerer!reader, sickfic, reverse comfort, sickening amounts of fluff, lots of petnames, satoru gojo vs the mortifying ordeal of being loved, just a tinyyyy bit of angst if u rlly squint, literally just satoru being pampered for like 10k words straight, he’s cute when he’s sick but still manages to be a lil shit <33, he’s also a huge sap you have been warned!!
a/n; what can i say, im a proud member of the ”satoru gojo needs to be babied relentlessly” club <33 he’s just a little guy!! tagging @catchuuu my beloved for being the sweetest enjoy a healthy dose of sick sleepy satoru <33 i am tagging all toru enjoyers in spirit btw i love u all
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you’ve never seen satoru like this before.
head buried into a big pillow, white locks tousled and sticking to his forehead — skin sweaty, hot to the touch, with a flushed face to match. heavy breaths fall from his parted lips, blinking in and out of consciousness, squeezing his eyes shut.
it’s nothing like the joyous, loud, cocky satoru you’re so used to. he’s weak. he’s fatigued.
he’s completely, undoubtedly sick.
”really, baby,” he slurs, raspy and dry. still attempting to raise himself up, arms straining under the weight of his shivering body. ”there’s no need f’ —”
unceremoniously, his limbs give out beneath him, and he tumbles right back down; a meek little wince escaping his throat as his face falls back into the mattress. the sound makes your heart squeeze tightly in your chest.
”ah. that’s…” he tries to speak, a disgruntled hum muffled by the sheets. ”… annoying.”
satoru sounds frustrated. you can tell he’s resisting the urge to close his eyes, a little helpless, unable to even move properly, like a fish out of water. he’s still breathing unevenly, still sweating, still burning up — you can practically feel it, from where you’re standing, crouched down by his bed.
you’ve never, ever seen satoru like this. you’ve seen him sniffling during flu season, wrecked with headaches during rainy season. you’ve seen him vulnerable; not many times, but enough that it matters. 
but you’ve never seen him like this.
(and it makes you terribly anxious.)
”satoru, please just —” you croak, gnawing at your bottom lip. trying desperately to swallow the worry in your chest. ”don’t overdo it. please?”
you can hear the anxious little timbre of your own voice, and you can feel the frown tugging at your lips. but you can’t do anything to quell the insistent pitter patter of your heartbeat, the ache that accompanies it. satoru’s lying down, still trying to gather the strength to reassure you, even through the feverish haze clouding his mind. 
he looks so small.
this wasn’t what you were expecting to see, today. you were expecting to meet up with satoru, and see his happy little grin, those tiny dimples and freckles that only show themselves in the light of the sun. you were expecting to feel the weight of his hand in yours, as you strolled down to the new crêpe stand he’s been wanting to check out since he first found their instagram account.
you were expecting to see him happy. healthy. a little obnoxious, a little annoying — but hopelessly sweet. all the love you could ever need, molded into a human shape. your little angel.
a sigh slips from your lips. you can’t help it; because satoru is just so stubborn, so closed off, and he can be such an idiot sometimes. you knew something was off the moment he sent you that text, asking you oh so charmingly, apologetically, if you could postpone your date for just an hour or so. you knew something was wrong, but he still wouldn’t let up until you brought out the 🥺 emojis. 
and then he told you he was fine. it’s all he ever is, apparently.
my throat’s just a little scratchy, is all. wouldn’t want you to miss out on the voice you love so much, yeah?
give me an hour and i’ll be perfect for you. <3
moron.
he’s curled up in a fetal position, trying to stop himself from shivering, muttering little reassurances under his breath that you can’t make out. wearing ripped jeans and a nice jacket, like he was fully prepared to head out like this — like he genuinely thought an hour, some painkillers and a dream would be enough to chase away a fever this severe. like he was so desperate to see you he was fully willing to take that risk.
moron. moron. he should’ve called you the moment he realized he was sick. instead, you had to coax him into letting you come over, with a flurry of sad and cute emojis you know make him go weak at the knees when they’re coming from you.
and here you are. in satoru’s house, in front of his bed, trying to convince him that he is, in fact, sick. 
but he just won’t listen.
”just — gimme a couple minutes, honey?” your boyfriend mumbles, barely coherent, stringing words together haphazardly. awfully dizzy. ”i just need the painkillers to kick in, i promise i —”
”satoru.”
there’s a sad tint to your voice, now. unmistakable. one that satoru notices, even through the feverish, muddy filter over his reality. 
and it makes him quiet down.
(he doesn’t want to disappoint you.)
as gently as you can, you settle down on the bed, eyes painfully softened. overflowing with care. towering over him, leaning close — to press your lips against his scorching forehead, brushing away his sweaty bangs with a palpable tenderness. your voice soothing, coming out almost as a low coo. you’re frustrated, and exasperated.
but most of all, you’re worried.
”go back to sleep,” you hum, a gentle command. your hand finds his, cold skin meeting warm, tracing circles over his palm. ”i’ll take care of you.”
”there’s no need,” he mutters, instantaneous. so used to denying kindness. 
but he curls an arm around your waist, anyway, tugging you closer; a little needy. like you’re much too far away for his liking. finally beginning to settle down, coaxed into resting by the soft touches your grace him with. it’s only a matter of time.
so you keep your lips against his forehead, cradling his slender fingers in yours, murmuring little whispered reassurances. and before you know it, his lashes have fluttered shut, like a white dove landing on the ground. he still looks so troubled, so meek. you can’t resist the urge to soothe him, hand cupping his face, thumb smoothing over the apple of his cheek. you watch him lean into it, eyes dripping with care. your poor baby. 
for a couple precious moments, you allow yourself to indulge in the sight. even like this, he looks a bit like an angel, a painting come to life. like one wrong brushstroke could smudge him. 
so you’re delicate, as you trace little hearts into his skin, delicate as you maneuver his body enough to peel the layers of clothing off him — leaving him in only an oversized tee and a pair of briefs. satoru can only whine, softly, so quiet you barely even hear him. so disoriented, on the brink of falling into a deep slumber. some part of him is trying to resist, you’re sure, still agonizing over the date he’s missing out on. as if anything matters more than his health.
but it doesn’t work. he can only let out a tiny groan, hopelessly pliant as you tuck him in, pulling a big blanket over his shoulders. you card through his hair, another soft kiss planted on his sweaty forehead — and your hand stays between his locks until you’re sure he’s asleep. his breathing mellows out, his grip around your waist loosens, seeking comfort from you even in his dreams.
you’d crawl under the blankets with him, but you have work to do.
stealing one final glance at your fever-ridden lover, your heartbeat ricochets. he still looks so meek, all warm and sweaty, shirt sticking to his skin. a frown tugs at your bottom lip.
satoru is always so stubborn, refusing to lean on others for support. you wish he had called you immediately, nagged at you to come baby him. sure, you might’ve sighed in faux exasperation, and teased him a little, but it still would’ve made you feel happy. useful. and you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. maybe, if you just prove that you can take care of him properly, he’ll do it next time.
so you stand up, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead one last time, and make your way towards the kitchen.
satoru’s house is spacious. a little too spacious, enough for at least three people to live in comfortably; nice furniture, an expensive sofa in the living room, a large tv you’re almost certain he only keeps around for white noise. such are the ways of the rich, you suppose. he doesn’t invite you over very often, so you’ve never had the chance to get very affiliated with the space. it’s always the other way around — him, waiting for you on the couch when you get home, chirping out an unconvincing don’t even worry about it, baby! when you ask how he got in without a key. or him, showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night, filling the sleepy silence with jokes to distract you from the bags under his eyes.
(he likes it when you cling to him in your sleep — he sleeps a lot better that way. that’s what he told you, at least, when you brought him coffee in bed that one time. a little glimmer of honesty.)
he stays over so often he might as well just move in, but you aren’t really sure how to even approach that subject. some part of you fears it’d be too much, too intimate, that he’d pack his bags and run away. bringing all his secrets with him, that soft laughter you’ve grown so fond of. so you figure it’s better to let him make a home out of yours, let him curl up on your couch and snack on the candy you hid in your kitchen cabinets. that’s safe for him.
and now that you’ve seen his home up close — if you can even call it that — you think you’re starting to understand his preference. because it’s spacious, yes, but also empty. save for expensive furniture and fake houseplants, there isn’t anything to indicate that the apartment belongs to him, that he feels comfortable there. like he hasn’t even bothered to make it his. like it’s about to be sold, and you’re just one of the potential buyers, checking the place out. admiring the patterns of the floorboards and the walls.
it doesn’t feel like satoru at all. 
his own bedroom was another story, a much more pleasant one. a lot more satoru. filled with little trinkets, key charms and souvenirs and silly figurines. a framed photo of three students by the windowsill, an old uniform hanging by his closet, socks strewn about here and there. a dying houseplant. comic books and movie posters and a ps5 you don’t think he’s touched since he finished spiderman 2. a king sized bed, that makes him look like a spoiled little princess when he’s lying in it, next to a cat plushie you won for him at a fair. knowing he actually sleeps with it kind of makes you want to cry.
there’s this particular scent, too, lingering in the air. mellow, nostalgic, the kind that soothes you with just a whiff; a blend between sunlight, expensive cologne, and something sweet. it clings to all his favorite clothes, to his skin. you’d live in it if you could. 
something constricts, inside your chest — like thorny vines strangling your beating heart, pressing down ever so slightly. just thinking about it, about him, about his distressed expression as his head hit the pillow. making your way over to his kitchen, getting yourself affiliated with the space, preparing to make a good soup for his fever. the fridge is almost empty, save for sweets and that one drink you like. the takeout boxes on his kitchen table tells you all you need to know.
it only makes you worry more.
luckily, you were clever enough to buy your own ingredients on the way here. chop, chop, into tiny little pieces. chicken soup should help, shouldn’t it? it’s all you can focus on, all you can hope for. anything is fine; you just want to help him, be of use somehow. he does so much for you.
you just want to give some of it back.
satoru’s loneliness is a subtle thing. flexible, alert, slipping away at the slightest sign of knowing eyes. for someone who’s so often surrounded by people, cracking jokes and laughing louder than anyone else, he doesn’t seem to make any noise when he’s alone. he curls into himself, just a bit, and a kind of reminiscence smooths over the contours of his face. 
that’s when you see him. that lonely, lonely guy. resigned to his self-imposed isolation, paradoxically yearning for something more. watching as the cherry trees bloom, like they’ll give him the answers he seeks once they bear fruit.
but the moment you come into view, he smiles. knowing you won’t push it — that you’ll let him take his time. that you’ll let him flee, just a little. 
still, you can’t help but wish he’d lean on you a little more. you wish you could chase his loneliness away with a pitchfork, but it’s a fickle creature. you somehow doubt he wants to part with it. 
all you can do is love him. love him, love him, and love him some more; until he’s had his fill.
(you’re not sure he ever will. it’s a good thing, a very good thing, because you’re almost certain you’ll never run out.) 
and that’s why you’re here. in his ghost of a home, his kitchen, pouring water into a large pot. tender, sprinkling love over every single action, every slice and dice, every piece of chicken and veggies thrown into the boiling water. you try and you try, hoping it’ll reach him.
but before you can make another attempt, something reaches you, instead.
two long arms curl around your waist, suddenly, something warm and soft pressing itself against your back. and you almost flinch, completely caught up in the stirring of the soup, unsure of how much time has passed since you began. it jolts you out of your thoughts. 
you know who it is, though. never mind the fact that he’s the only other person in the apartment; you know it’s him by his touch alone, the weight of his arms, that particular scent that surrounds him. like memories of summer.
it’s awfully sweet, the way he clings to you, the soft little blissful sigh that slips from his lips. but before you can feel moved at the domesticity of the gesture, worry clouds your senses. he doesn’t even get the chance to speak.
”satoru —” you place a palm on his forearm, craning your head to look back at him. his forehead rests against your shoulder, and his eyes are closed. he’s still so warm, too warm. ”what are you doing here? you should be resting.” 
your boyfriend mumbles something, under his breath, something that your ears can’t quite digest. he shifts, a little, as if getting ready to put on some sort of act — to smile and joke, or laugh and tease you. you can imagine what he’d say if he wasn’t in such a feverish state; he’d hug you from behind, a low purr of what’cha up to? whispered right into your ear. then you’d jolt, and he’d giggle sheepishly, satisfied with the reaction.
but now, all he can do is cough. still leaning against you, gripping onto your midriff a little more desperately than usual. you step away from the stove, turning around, making sure your hands never leave his. looking up at him with concern in your eyes, noticing his little frown.
”c’mon, you need to lie down.” you reach for his cheek, cupping it in your palm, and he practically melts into it. enjoying the chilly sensation to his fever-ridden skin. “the soup’ll be finished soon, okay?”
”… you made,” he tries, syllables falling from his lips haphazardly. ”soup —” a series of coughs. they cut him off, and the worry in your chest only deepens. 
“don’t push yourself, okay? you’re really sick, dummy.” satoru pouts, but doesn’t say anything, only clinging to you tighter when you usher him away. “let’s go back to your room, alright?”
but he won’t budge. he’s so sleepy, so sick and delirious, putting all his body weight on you. you try your best not to stumble beneath it.
”honey,” you plead, holding him securely in your embrace. his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. ”work with me, please? just gotta get you back to bed —”
”’s…” he whispers, suddenly, a raspy little thing. scratchy, meek, awfully earnest; you wonder if he’s too sick not to be. ”… too lonely without you.” 
a moment passes. your breath hitches pitifully, at the base of your throat.
satoru is hugging you so tightly, as if you could disappear at any moment, slip away if he doesn’t keep you close. he’s holding you as if pleading for comfort, for a touch of safety. as if he needs you. if his meek little admission hadn’t already melted your heart the marrow, that thought certainly would’ve done the job.
taking a moment to collect yourself, you inhale, face surely aflame. satoru just nuzzles into your shoulder, too tired to say anything else, wanting to be close to you. it’s a wonder your knees don’t buckle.
gently, you let your hand trail upwards, palm smoothing down his hair. softly, like he’s a clingy, overgrown cat. ”sorry,” you start, just a little breathless. ”i’ll be with you, okay? won’t leave you alone. i promise.”
there’s an earnesty in your words that you doubt you could ever fake. satoru must hear it too, you think, because he finally begins to work with you. allowing you to stumble towards his bedroom, supporting his weight.
but once you make it to his bed, he still refuses to let go of you.
”toru, gotta go finish that soup. ’n make you some tea.” you rub his back, soothingly, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. shaking his head and emitting a throaty groan, only squeezing you tighter when you try to guide him under the covers. how cruel of him, to act so cute when said soup is most likely boiling over by the stove. ”please, sweetie? it won’t take long. i promise. you can go back to sleep.”
another groggy huff. you’re both still standing by the edge of the bed, and satoru still won’t let you leave. all you can do is sigh, smearing a little kiss against his neck. 
he squirms, ever so slightly, and you get an idea.
so you keep pressing little kisses against his skin, knowing just how to make him melt. feeling him relax in your embrace, snuggle into your chest, so pliant that he lets you tuck him in — as long as your lips stay pressed against his jaw. before he can realize what’s happening, you grab hold of the blanket, draping it over him; his half-lidded eyes blinking up at you. you press a final kiss against his forehead, grabbing the cat plushie from the edge of the bed and placing it close enough for satoru to reach if need be.
”i’ll hurry, toru. be a good boy and stay here, alright?” 
a teasing lilt sneaks into your voice, coaxed out by how adorable your boyfriend looks like this; baby blue eyes all droopy, snowy hair messy as it falls across the cushion he’s resting on. blinking sluggishly, grunting a little in response. 
when you scurry off the bed and make your way towards the door, you glance back at him. he’s still looking in your direction, with half-lidded eyes, and your chest aches. ”i’ll be back soon, baby,” you try to soothe him. “try to sleep.”
this time, you hurry. body working almost on autopilot, images of your boyfriend still tugging at your heartstrings like he’s arranging an orchestra, moving your legs forward. before you know it, you’re walking back, carrying a tray with both your hands. steam wafts up from the hot soup and the warm cup of tea, shaking a little as you walk, a pair of painkillers in your pocket. just in case he needs more. an eager, pulsating joy rushes through your veins — now you can be with him, tend to him, not leave him alone in a room so like him you wish you could stay there forever. 
your footsteps are light, almost careful as they cross the threshold. satoru stirs, waiting for you to come to his side, looking like a kicked puppy in his giant bed. he tries to lift himself up, but it looks like it requires an intense amount of focus, like his elbows could buckle any second. 
”careful,” you croon, hurrying over, placing the tray on the nightstand. gently pushing him back down on the mattress. he complies almost instantly, too out of it to put up a real fight. staring at you, as if in awe.
to satoru, you appear almost as an angel, a somewhat blurry figure that he recognizes without looking. your very presence is soothing, like a lullaby in human form. with the hazy filter clouding his mind, he can’t even seem to form words correctly — all satoru can focus on is you. your movements, the lilt of your voice, a cold hand dulling the heat of his forehead.  
his fever still hasn’t gone down. you try and muster a smile, but you’re sure it must look painfully coated in unease. crouching down, you place your elbows on the bed, your jaw meeting the mattress. you’re at eye level with him, now.
”hey,” you start, low and comforting. you don’t want to be too loud. ”sorry it took so long.”
using what little energy he has left, satoru crosses the distance between you, inching closer and closer. noticing it, you reach a hand out to cup his cheek — lips quick to find his forehead. a barely audible sigh leaves him, and you smile.
”d’you think you can eat?” you whisper, gazing at him fondly. treating him a little like a baby, maybe, but you can’t help it when he’s like this. quiet as a mouse. ”i made soup and tea… sound okay?”
he tries to make a noise. it comes out sounding like a strange blend between a dissatisfied groan and an affirming hum, but he still ends up nodding slightly. you wonder if indulging you is ingrained into his bone structure. 
”… okay. think you can sit up, toru?”
once again, your boyfriend only hums — but he does begin to move, trying to hoist himself up, wobbling pitifully. you help, keeping him steady until his spine meets the headboard. slumped against it, he blinks slowly, feverishly.
”thank you.” you press a chaste kiss against his cheek, before reaching for the cup of tea, the scent of chamomile and lavender filling your senses. you blow on it softly. ”here. it should help with your throat, so try to drink a bit, okay? s’ got honey in it.”
silently, he accepts the cup, bringing it to his lips. when he takes a sip, you catch the slightest hint of a grimace on his lips; even with your warning of careful, it’s hot, you think he must have managed to burn his tongue. 
satoru keeps his thoughts to himself, not wanting to worry you. but he can’t say bringing himself to drink it is an easy endeavor, with how sweaty it makes him feel, how it forces him to acknowledge how painfully dry his throat is. how he can’t even taste the herbs.
he wants to be good for you, though.
so he gulps it down, slowly, managing to sip almost all of it until you decide to give him a break. compared to this morning, he already feels just a little better, a little less like he’s in a fever dream. you’re sitting by the bedside, so patient, so caring. he can’t take his eyes off you, even now. clearing his throat, attempting to get used to speaking again. ”thanks.”
the mutter sounds strained, but slightly easier on the ears, easier to make out than before. courtesy of the honey, you assume. gosh, you hadn’t realized you’d begun to miss his voice so much. 
”no problem,” you hum, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “think you can eat something? or is that too much?”
”’course,” he croaks. there’s a slight sense of liveliness in his eyes that wasn’t there before, but before he can continue, he’s caught off by a small coughing fit. harmless, but sufficient in making you worry. 
”no need to force yourself,” you soothe, patting down his head, watching as he quiets down. the tea might’ve given him a temporary energy boost, but you still don’t want him to overdo it. “just relax, satoru.”
he hums, weakly, and you reward him with a light ruffle of his hair. then you direct your attention to the soup on the nightstand, still hot, smelling of vegetable broth and fresh chicken and coriander. you bring the bowl down to your lap, and take a spoonful of the soup, blowing on it like you did with the tea. bringing it towards his lips. 
”i dunno if it’ll taste very good,” you admit, scratching absently at the back of your neck. ”but it should help with the fever, at least. i’d be happy if you could eat a bit.”
as his lips make contact with the metal of the spoon, satoru can’t help but let himself be swept away. he still feels a little too hazy, too feverish to really comprehend what’s happening; he feels oddly bare like this, vulnerable, a little afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he doesn’t keep it shut. so he opts to accept the treatment he’s receiving, not putting up a fight or making a fuss. not meeting your expectant eyes.
(he feels a little shy, being spoonfed by you. how very unlike him.)
the soup does feel soothing. he thinks he can even get a sense of the taste, how hard you must’ve worked on it. but more than anything, the way you’re acting is like balm to his soul — looking at him so kindly, treating him so tenderly. offering him spoon after spoon with gentle words of encouragement. being babied in such a way makes him feel so oddly content that he’s almost embarrassed. it should be the other way around. 
yet here you are, spoonfeeding him soup that you made yourself, because he’s sick, even though he hates to admit it, and you care about him. he allows the information to linger in the back of his head, for a while, wallowing in the comfort it brings him. fully comprehending it would take too much of a toll on him, in this state. 
satoru basks in the intimacy of the situation, and so do you. brushing strands of hair away when they stick to his skin, pressing your lips against his forehead to check his temperature. you keep doing it until satoru’s appetite dwindles.
”alright, that should be fine —” you glance down at the bowl, now roughly half-empty. more than enough, you think. ”uhh… how do you feel?”
”… better,” satoru answers, truthfully, the ghost of a smile on his glossy lips. ”thank you.”
for a second, you only stare, saying nothing. there’s something in satoru’s expression that catches you off guard, something that’s a little hard to identify. is it the way the light reflects off his skin, his pupils? the red, feverish flush of his skin? that flimsy little smile? or is it the honesty in his eyes, the way he’s looking at you like he’s trying to convey something he can’t put into words? 
as you look at him, take him in, the boy you love so dearly, you can’t help but feel like he just carved open his chest — let you peek inside his ribcage. it’s hard not to feel flustered, in the presence of something so vulnerable.
and he’s thanking you. as if taking care of him is a great burden, a chore, something you’d demand gratitude for. you want to tell him that it’s the bare minimum, the very least of what he deserves. the very least of what you could, should do for him.
you want to tell him that he’s safe, here. that there’s no need to be the strongest, whatever the hell that means, that he can let go of the burdens you know he hides from you. that he can just be your sick, terribly stubborn boyfriend.
”… okay,” is all you breathe out, every other word getting stuck in the back of your throat. ”that’s good.”
satoru’s fingers curl around yours, suddenly, where they lay on your lap. his movements are still a little groggy, disoriented, as he brings your hand up to his lips. they’re warm and soft, especially so in light of his fever. he closes his eyes, white lashes catching the light of the sun, flitting in through the haphazardly closed blinds. your heartbeat stutters.
”… love you,” he mutters. a soft little thing. your eyes don’t leave his face. and your lips part before your brain can instruct them to.
”i love you too,” you blurt out, instantaneous. like you couldn’t bear to keep him waiting, even for a second. ”… satoru.”
he smiles against your skin. he always does, at the sound of those words. you make him feel so terribly, terribly weak, all the time, everyday. you make him feel so human, and he can’t bring himself to think of it as a bad thing anymore. 
he’s still cradling your hand when he brings it down to the blanket. ”thanks for coming,” he continues, pushing himself. trying to get the words out while he still has the energy to say them. “you didn’t have to.”
they’re a little clumsy, a little stale on his tongue, but they’re honest. he is thankful — the prospect of being seen like this is discomforting, gruelingly so, but he doesn’t mind nearly as much if it’s you. he’d never tell you, but he did feel just a little lonely, when he woke up this morning. disoriented, enveloped by hot flashes of pain, in a way he’s not used to in the slightest. missing out on your date, too, that he had been looking forward to ever since you decided on a time. 
but, as if sensing it, you came to his rescue. the feeling of your lips on his skin was the first sensation he felt, when he woke up for the second time — with you by his side, this time. his guardian angel, carrying the scent of spring with you. a memory of a certain boy, of better times. 
(satoru thinks you’re nostalgia personified. he likes to imagine that you met as children, underneath a cherry tree somewhere, but he knows it’s not true. there’s no way he wouldn’t remember you.)
you smile. pleased, at his show of vulnerability, small as it may be. ”i wanted to,” you assure him. equally honest, equally full of double meanings and hidden messages that neither of you need to uncover to understand. ”… i care about you. of course i’d come.”
a light, raspy chuckle; that’s all satoru manages to vocalize. his mind is stuffed, and there’s an ache in his chest, longing to be filled. it’s been there for a while now. but somehow, you seem to fill it up, slowly but surely, almost effortlessly — with every sound you make, every slight movement, every flicker of an expression on your face. everything seems so effortlessly perfect, in his eyes.
the words leave his lips before his mind can think the thought to reel them back in. 
”what did i do to deserve you…?”
you blink. a moment passes.
then your eyes soften, considerably so, crumbling at the corners like the cookies satoru loves so much. he’s looking at you, eyes soft in a similar sense, layered over with adoration. you think the love inside your chest might crawl out of your throat and eat him alive.
you give him a chuckle of your own, quivering slightly. terribly fond. this time, you’re the one who drags his hand up to meet your lips; kissing his knuckle softly. his breath hitches.
”i’m the one who should be saying that to you,” you grin, a little weakly. and you mean it. you don’t think you’ve ever meant anything more. 
it’s so honest that it strikes a cord right down his heart, more heat than the fever can account for rushing to his cheeks. satoru hopes you don’t notice it. all he can do is squeeze your fingers, lightly, not trusting his voice not to break. silence lingers, and you only gaze at him softly. 
”… do you want anything else?” you finally ask, with a tilt of your head. still so eager to assist, racking your brain to come up with anything else to do for him. ”i’ll get it for you, no matter what it is.”
and, truthfully, satoru thinks you’ve done more than enough. more than he could ever make up for. but he’s always been greedy, and there’s one thing, only one thing, one thing he can’t help but ask for. something he craves more than anything. he can’t help but indulge himself, indulge in his selfishness, in the need to feel your skin against his. 
so he stretches his arms out, and looks at you with a distinctly needy glint in his eyes. his fingers move in a grabby motion, almost unconsciously, and he might’ve been embarrassed if he wasn’t still so feverish. all he wants is to keep you close, to make the hollowness inside his chest dissipate. you always make that lonely feeling go away.
needless to say, you heed his request. almost instantly, your heart pumping in a steady rhythm, with this visceral desire to keep him close, to protect him. and who are you to resist, when he’s asking you for it himself?
you waste no time crawling beneath the covers, situating yourself right next to your lover. only then do you finally, finally, reach your arms out to pull him close; so close you feel the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart. his cheek meets the softness of your chest, snuggling closer, and you card a hand through his soft locks. his arms reach around your midriff, a perfect puzzle piece, and he releases an audible sigh — deep and satisfied. in his tired, clingy state, he subconsciously throws a leg over yours, trapping you further. 
you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
finally, satoru can fall asleep. with the fever still clouding his senses, and your nimble fingers smoothing along his scalp, the occasional kiss to his head as he listens to your soft heartbeat, he’s drifted off before either of you know it. melting into you, into your warm embrace, cheek squished against your chest. tiny little breaths fall from his lips, and you feel like you’re cradling the whole world in your arms. 
you’re relieved. making yourself comfortable on your back, with satoru sleeping soundly on top of you, hoping he’ll feel better when he wakes up. careful, even with your breathing, intent on letting him sleep. knowing he doesn’t get nearly as much rest as he should, most days. 
before long, even you succumb to the cozy atmosphere, gradually dozing off. satoru is always warm, even more so now, and his weight is comforting.
stifling a yawn, you tug him a little bit closer, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. you could use a day of catching up on lost sleep, too.
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when you wake up, you’re acutely aware of something poking your cheek.
it’s a ticklish sensation, sort of irritating, and it rouses you from your cozy slumber. disgruntled, so cruelly ripped away from your sweet dreams — satoru was in it, you think. you feel robbed.
still, you can’t be too mad. not when the real deal is right in front of you, eyes crinkled and full of warmth, a teasing smile on his lips. he’s still snuggled into your chest, all cozy and cute, as you lay on your back, propped up by a myriad of fluffy pillows. he looks up at you adoringly.
”well hello there,” he purrs, shooting a giddy little grin your way. still poking your cheek. ”wakey-wakey, sunshine!”
a series of blinks. you stir a little further, the sleepy haze of your brain beginning to slip off, slowly but surely. it takes a couple of seconds for you to remember why you’re here, what happened before you fell asleep. 
”… hey,” you greet, at last, stifling a yawn and squeezing your eyes shut. stretching lazily, like a sleepy cat. ”how do you feel…?”
”i’m perfect. better than perfect, actually,” satoru chirps, a little cheeky, hoisting himself up so that he’s hovering above you. a hint of mischief in those pretty eyes. ”you’re a good nurse, y’know?”
you huff out a chuckle. as always, his actions reveal more than his words — you could tell he felt a lot better the moment you saw his smile, heard how he formed his words. “alright, that’s good,” you hum, exhaling softly. ”how long was i asleep? what time is it?”
”i woke up just now, too,” satoru lies, albeit a small one. he did wake up recently, only to spend what he thinks must’ve been at least fifteen minutes staring at you until he physically couldn’t take it anymore. he had to hear your voice, see your smile. it’s a personal record for him; usually he spends less time admiring your peaceful expression, far too eager to speak to you.
”it’s pretty late,” he continues, another small lie. pleased with himself. ”way too late for you to go back, actually. how about you spend the night?”
another blink, your eyelids heavy and droopy as they open and close. then you’re reaching for your phone on the nightstand, and checking the time. a smile is quick to bloom on your lips, teasing and bubbly, as you tilt your head to meet his gaze.
”it’s only four, satoru.”
”way, way too late,” he only reaffirms, flopping down on top of you again, keeping you from leaving. ”god knows what kinda creeps are out there at this hour — much too unsafe. i’m just looking out for you, baby.”
”of course,” you indulge him, a sly little roll of your eyes that makes him pout. ”you know i was planning on staying over anyway, right?”
”well, of course! i wouldn’t expect anything less from my favorite nurse.”
his eyes betray his words, gleaming with a sudden colour of excitement, all glitter and relief. a joy that clogs up his throat like seafoam, and spills out from his lips. you look down at him, for a second, unable to resist the temptation — reaching for his forehead with the back of your hand. 
it’s significantly less scalding, now. 
you let out a sigh, laced with relief, one you didn’t know you’d been holding in. ”it really has gone down,” you hum, stretching the sleep from your limbs again. “that’s good.”
satoru huffs. ”i said i was perfect, right? don’t you trust me, my sweet lover?”
”i never know with you,” you give him a huff of your own, exasperated. fond. “you said you were just fine this morning, too.”
”i was!” he whines. piling up lie after lie. “i totally could’ve made it to that date, you know. i got worse because you had no faith in my abilities.”
”right. of course.” you shoot him a lopsided grin. ”you just don’t wanna admit the fever beat your ass, huh?”
”see? no faith.” a chuckle slips from your lips, and satoru has to bite back a smile. ”unbelievable. i fought that fever off just for you, and here you are, laughing at me.”
”oh? i thought it was thanks to my top notch nursing skills?”
”well, that too! but it was mostly me.”
a sigh. “whatever you say.” then you’re smiling, once more, unable to help yourself. eyes crinkled at the edges, soft around the corners. ”i’m just glad you’re better. i was worried.”
satoru pouts, again, but you can tell he acknowledges it — your earnest concern. this is how you love, the both of you, through words that never say it all and actions that say the words your mouths can’t fit. decoding the meaning of it all in silent gestures, glints in your eyes. little truth games.
”you really thought a lil’ fever was gonna be enough to keep me down?” he shakes his head once, then twice. and you know that what he means to say is i never want you to worry. “c’mon, now, baby.”
another lighthearted roll of your eyes. ”yeah, yeah, yeah. my sincerest apologies, my strong, stubborn, totally-not-sick boyfriend.”
”don’t you mean your strong, perfect, beautiful, clever, flawless, totally-not-sick boyfriend?”
”don’t think i didn’t notice you sneaking the stubborn out of there.”
”hehe.”
a silent moment passes, something tender filling up the space between your words. satoru’s weight is still so comforting, like a big blanket, his arms enveloping you as he breathes in your scent. you’re so happy that he’s acting insufferable again.
”alright, my honeybee,” he suddenly chirps, breaking the silence, hoisting himself up. ”time to go. we can still get those crêpes if we hurry.”
you blink. once, then twice.
”… satoru.”
”yeah? what’s up?”
you give him an unimpressed look, gazing up at him, towering over you like he fully thought you’d be alright with letting him leave. ”you’re… not going out today,” you deadpan. “you know that, right?”
this time, he’s the one who blinks. once, then twice.
”huh? why not?”
”uh, because you’re sick, maybe?”
”what?” satoru pretends to be shocked, offended, as if he can’t believe you’d even suggest something so outrageous. ”i’m all better, though!”
you raise an eyebrow, thoroughly displeased. all better? ”your fever isn’t gone, satoru. it’s just not horrible anymore. you’ll get yourself even more sick if you go out now.”
”i won’t! seriously!” he insists, looking down at you with a sorry attempt at puppy dog eyes. ”i feel good enough to run a marathon!”
”you’re not doing that either,” you mutter. then a sigh, exasperated. you can’t let this charade go on for too long. ”come on, satoru — don’t be so stubborn. we can go there another time.”
”but —”
”besides, didn’t you say i have to spend the night because it’s too late to go outside? remember the creeps?” there’s amusement in your voice, a light smile on your lips. ”what if they get us?”
”well, they obviously won’t get you while i’m there,” he huffs. ”what, you don’t think i can protect you properly? you’re hurting me, angel.”
you bite back an incredulous laugh. god, he’s stubborn. you’re so in love with him you just barely restrain the urge to pull him in for a kiss.
”sa-to-ru,” you coo, dragging each syllable out, sending a shiver down his spine. ”we’re not going outside. end of discussion.”
”why not, though?” he continues to pout, still refusing to give in. resorting to cheap guilt-tripping. ”don’t you wanna go on a date with me? you don’t want to see me happy, is that it?”
you only sigh, thoroughly exasperated, reaching up to cup his cheek nonetheless. he nuzzles into it. ”you’re such a baby.”
”your baby.”
another sigh, to mask your adoration. at this rate, the back and forth will never end, so you scramble for solutions.
“can’t we just have our date here?” you suggest, after some contemplation. ”i bought some ice cream on my way here. we could watch a movie, or something. isn’t that enough?”
satoru’s eyes bore into yours. contemplative, as he lets the silence linger, gears turning inside his mind. he wants to go outside with you, wants to hold your hand and hear you hum happily as you bite into your crêpe; wants to steal a bite when you’re not looking.
but it is a tempting offer. you could eat ice cream, and binge a bunch of movies, and he could rest his head in your lap. coax you into playing with his hair.
(he’s maybe, just maybe, a little bit tired, too.)
so, finally, he sighs — softly. in resignation. 
”… well, i guess that’s fine,” he pouts, allowing himself to fall back into your embrace. his voice is muffled, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. ”i wanted crêpes, though…”
”i’ll get you your crepes,” you assure him, relieved to have reached a compromise. ”i can go buy ’em myself and come back. then we —”
”no, no, no!” satoru suddenly interjects. whining, tugging you closer. ”you’re not going anywhere. not without me!”
a sigh, just as adoring as it is fatigued. ”then i’ll… order crêpes, or something. or we’ll eat ice cream today and then crêpes when you’re better. does that sound okay?”
satoru is silent, for a while.
”… okay,” he hums. ”that’s fine.”
”haah. okay, good —”
”however!” 
you give him a look, a silent what now? that has him smiling. shuffling a little, in your embrace, planting his jaw on top of your chest and gazing up at you with a grin. ”instead of the crêpes, i want a kiss.”
you blink. exasperated, as an amused chuckle follows. ”so convoluted. you can just ask, you know?” you don’t give him time to answer, eager to appease the pouty man. ”whatever.” 
leaning in, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. sweet and soft. to your surprise, he’s still pouting when you pull away. ”i meant on the lips,” he explains, as if it was obvious. 
a tilt of your head. 
”… but you’re sick.”
”so?” satoru just pouts, expression practically etched into his face at this point. ”you won’t kiss me anymore? just cause i’ve got a tiny, miniscule fever?” he huffs, turning his head to the right and shutting his eyes. ”if you don’t love me anymore, you can just say that.”
another sigh leaves your lips. he’s so ridiculous. you can’t really deny him, though.
”… fine. it’s your fault if i get sick, though.”
in the blink of an eye, he’s perked right back up. wagging his non-existent tail, closing his eyes and waiting for you to try again. silly.
but you relent. his lips are only slightly warmer than usual, and you choose to see it as the good sign it is, proof that his fever truly is starting to dissipate. you feel satoru relax, melting into the kiss, but before it can drag out too long you’ve pulled away. ”— there. happy now?” 
”for now,” he quips, equally teasing. he’s cute, though. a little kiss or two is a small price to pay for the spark of joy in his iris, even if it ends with you sick on your deathbed in a couple of days. 
”that’ll do,” you grin, hoisting yourself up with your elbows, carrying satoru with you, his jaw still on your chest. ”wanna go eat some ice cream, mr unreasonable?”
you don’t really need an answer. of course satoru wants ice cream. you’ve never seen him turn down anything sweet — and, lo and behold, he perks up again, getting into a sitting position. like an excited puppy. 
”got it,” you chuckle, stopping to think for a moment. “there’s soup left, too. but maybe you’d rather order something? it turned out kinda so-so.”
satoru gapes. ”you kidding? that was the best soup i’ve ever had!” 
his exclamation makes you roll your eyes, words so coated in confidence that you almost want to believe him. ”satoru. you don’t have to lie.”
”i’m not!”
”you couldn’t even taste it.”
”i could, i could!” he stubbornly whines. ”i tasted all your love. every single drop!”
you give him a look. he only grins at you, a little teasing, a little giddy. you can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed; averting your gaze with a sharp scoff, trying to appear unbothered. ”yeah? and how did my love taste?”
satoru leans forward. it’s sudden, and you blink, instinctively leaning back in turn. he’s wearing a signature smirk when he stops moving, close enough that you feel his breath on your skin. hot.
”delicious,” he purrs, glancing down at your lips. blue eyes gleaming with mirth. ”best thing i’ve ever had.”
you know he’s just trying to fluster you, so you try to fight against it, but it doesn’t work nearly as well as you’d like — crumbling under his gaze, averting your own with a quiet huff. and he lets you off the hook, satisfied with your embarrassed expression. pulling back slightly, letting you breathe. 
as swiftly as you can, you regain your composure. clearing your throat. ”well, you can have more of it later, then,” you make a move to get off the bed. ”let’s go eat ice cream.”
after being caged in by satoru for so long, your limbs are a little stiff, caught under the weight of his boundless love. when your feet hit the soft flooring, you stretch them out, watching satoru follow your lead. still clad in that sweaty shirt.
”you should probably get a change of clothes,” you suggest, exhaling as your muscles loosen up. ”you’ve been wearing that shirt all day.”
”oh? is that an excuse to see me out of it, sweetheart?” satoru grins, fresh mischief gleaming in his eyes. ”you know you can always just ask.” 
you huff out a sardonic breath. ”yeah, yeah, whatever. throw on a hoodie or something, weirdo.” you stifle a giggle when he makes an offended noise behind you. “and some pants.”
”you don’t like the underwear?” he looks towards the corner of the room, studying himself in the mirror. “this is an expensive brand, you know?”
”you’re the only person on planet earth who’d give a fuck about underwear brands,” you scoff, a little snarky. ”just — put some comfortable clothes on, okay? i’ll go get the ice cream ready.”
”wait!” he exclaims, attaching himself to you, curling his arms around your bicep. “you’re not allowed to go anywhere without me, remember?” 
“… okay, okay. hurry up and get changed, then.”
sitting back down on the bed, while satoru walks towards the closet, you scroll through your phone — refusing to meet his expectant stare. he wants you to look over, you’re well aware, just so he can tease you for trying to sneak a peek. but you’re not falling for it this time. 
when he’s done, he’s wearing a comfy hoodie and some sweatpants. it’s a good look on him, casual and cozy. awfully cute. he wastes no time in attaching himself to you, again, an arm linked with yours as you travel to the kitchen; grabbing the pints of ice cream from the freezer, a couple snack bags from the drawers, before plopping down on the couch.
satoru maneuvers you into his lap, and you don’t put up a fight, leaning into him as your back meets his chest. he keeps you locked in place, arms around your waist, planting his jaw on the top of your head. and he relaxes, comforted by your smaller body pressed up against his. holding you so close satisfies a certain protective itch in his brain, never failing to calm him down. a safe haven, of sorts.
you watch the movie and eat the snacks, chattering away, letting the silence linger every now and then. after a while, satoru gets a slight headache, resting his head in your lap and whining for you to soothe him. you do so without any teasing; you’re much too soft for him. and he’s still sick, even if he’s doing better. you couldn’t resist him even if you tried.
so you opt to indulge him.
”baby, i think my fever’s going up again…” satoru pouts, gazing up at you through fluttering lashes. ”can you check?”
you smile, with a raise of your eyebrow. ”this is the fifth time you’ve asked me to check your temperature, toru.”
”just wanna make sure,” he whines. “please?”
with an exaggerated sigh, you lean down, lips once again meeting his forehead — humming against his skin. nope, his temperature hasn’t gone up. just like it hadn’t gone up the last time you checked, or the time before that.
”you’re good.”
”oh, thank god,” he exhales. ”are you sure? like, a hundred percent sure? maybe you should check again. just in case.”
”satoru,” you coo, a teasing lilt on the tip of your tongue. ”you can just ask me if you want a kiss.”
”a kiss? scandalous. i just wanna make sure my condition doesn’t worsen.”
he’s grinning, and you’re rolling your eyes, and both of you know damn well you’re going to indulge him anyway. he sighs in satisfaction when he feels your soft lips on his heated skin.
”hmm…” you narrow your eyes, thoughtfully, before looking down at him with a teasing smile. ”nope. definitely still the same temperature.” 
”you sure?”
”a hundred percent.”
”hmm. okay, got it.” he rolls over, burying his face in your stomach. wrapping his limbs around your midriff. “that’s good. just wanted to check, you know?”
”of course.”
”might need you to check again soon. just to be safe,” he chirps, biting back a soft grin. you don’t bother hiding yours.
”got it, got it,” you coo, fingers carding through his messy hair. “anything for my sick baby.” 
satoru releases a soft breath, bordering on a giggle. you can’t help but let your smile grow wider, heart brimming with affection. you let it clog up your chest until the movie’s almost over, and you simply can’t help yourself anymore.
”your room is very like you.”
it’s sudden, breaking the peaceful silence, making satoru stir. you’re both starting to get sleepy again. but he blinks up at you, studying your expression before parting his lips.
”… oh? how so?”
“well…” you stop to think. humming, absently fidgeting with a lock of your boyfriend’s hair. ”when i first walked in, i thought the whole house felt kind of empty, you know?”
satoru hums. unsure of where the conversation is going, maybe just a little intrigued. he mostly just likes listening to you talk. 
”but then i went into your room, and — it just felt very you. kinda messy, and stuff, but cozy. and a little sentimental.” satoru looks up at you, admiring that certain soft glimmer in your eyes. you meet his stare with a smile. ”maybe it doesn’t make sense? i guess i’ve just been thinking about it.”
he closes his eyes.
there’s something soft in your tone, something silky and simple, and he can tell you’re being sincere. it’s something he likes about you — that willingness to be soft, almost pridefully so, to bare yourself even if you aren’t sure that he’ll return the favour. he likes to think it’s rubbing off on him, slowly but surely; he doesn’t think he’s quite as bad as before. telling you about things that are dear to him isn’t something that scares him, anymore. and even when you see him vulnerable, sick and delirious in bed, he isn’t afraid that you’ll use it against him.
you’re a comfort; his safe haven. a place to rest his weary head. maybe you always have been, even before he really got to know you.
”i like your place more,” he finally admits, lighthearted in its weight. your gaze flits down, but his is still lingering on the tv, not really paying attention to it. ”it feels very… you.”
a smile crawls up to rest against your lips. playing along, your hands finding solace in between his fluffy locks. ”how so?”
and satoru smiles. eyes sparkling with something mellow, like a soda pop cracked open on a boiling summer day. he shifts a little, just to gaze up at you again. ”it’s… homely. warm,” his smile only grows. “and awfully sentimental.”
he lifts a hand up, to touch your cheek. tender, as his thumb smooths against your skin. it’s warm, beneath his touch, heating up with every word he speaks. satoru’s love feels a little like the sun, when it spills out this fervently, like it could burn you into cinders — you think you’d be happy to lie in the ashes. he’s smiling at you, like sunshine, like little dusty specks of light. and he exhales.
”i wouldn’t mind staying there forever.”
the expression on his face is a lovely one. you take a moment to simply bask in it, desperate to etch it into your memory. you don’t think you could forget it even if you tried. how fondly the light of the room embraces him, that soft grin he’s shooting your way, only vaguely teasing. and his eyes, the gateways to his soul, so sincere you can’t look away.
you love this man with your whole chest. you knew before, you’ve known for a long time, but each day you fall in love all over again. it’s all you can think as you look at him, all snug and safe and happy in your lap.
you don’t realize you’ve been staring at him silently until he chuckles, pulling you out of your sentimental stupor. it only flusters you further.
”you’re cute,” satoru croons, still cradling your cheek. tender, soft fingertips against your heated skin. all you manage is a meek little furrow of your brows, but that only makes him chuckle again.
”… you can.”
he blinks. still smiling.
”stay forever, i mean.”
you can’t look at him, when you say it. the words are barely above a whisper, and you aren’t sure if they’re conscious or not. it’d be nice to say they just slipped out, but they feel somewhat deliberate, all the same. you know you mean them, either way. it’s the one thing you’re sure of.
this time, satoru is the one who can do nothing but stare, his expression unreadable. you try not to let your gaze wander to his face, his eyes; but through the peripheral of your vision, you feel like you catch a particular kind of sadness reflected in them. or maybe it’s something closer to yearning, longing. something like that.
”… well,” he finally hums, voice so low you barely pick up on it. ”maybe i will, then.”
you reach something. 
you catch a glimpse of it, at least, for just a second or two. something warm and bare, something simple and incomprehensible at the same time. an emotion so strong it leaves you reeling, yet still so light. it’s there and then it isn’t, just out of reach, and you think that if you could only find the courage to curl your fingers around his, then —
a laugh track plays from the tv, snapping you both out of your thoughts.
(the moment passes before you can fully understand it, fully comprehend it. maybe some part of you already has.)
satoru chuckles, reaching for another ball of mochi and popping it into his mouth. ”this movie’s awful, huh?”
”yeah,” you’re quick to agree, maybe a little too quick. grinning weakly. ”it’s good in a so bad it’s good kinda way, though.”
he hums in absentminded agreement, still chewing on the soft treat. keeping his gaze steady on the screen, the flicker of emotional scenes he hasn’t been keeping track of, barely resisting the urge to look up at you again. but his heart already feels a little too mushy for his liking — he’s not sure he could take it.
satoru doesn’t get sick often.
his immune system is strong, there’s no denying that. but more than anything, he simply can’t afford to be sick. there are people who need him, people who depend on him, and the idea of being in such a defenseless state — stuck in bed while the world continues to spin, unattended — makes him feel so anxious he could throw up. even sleeping makes him feel a little skittish, sometimes, though he’s gotten a lot better since he started falling asleep with you in his arms.
it’s funny, he thinks. before you, being sick wasn’t something that really existed in his world. if he felt a little under the weather he would simply puff out his chest and down a painkiller or two, waving it off with a flick of his wrist; no biggie, really. he’s satoru gojo, after all, and the world needs his eyes on it.
but then you came along. you came to his rescue, spring in your pockets, and you took care of him, with what he knows to be love. genuine, earnest concern for his wellbeing. his happiness.
yeah — it’s funny, for sure. satoru never thought he’d ever enjoy being sick. 
yet here he is, head in your lap, feeling you run your fingers through his hair. kissing his forehead whenever he whines, indulging his little convoluted ploys. bringing him soup, when he gets hungry again, soup you made yourself. he wasn’t kidding when he said he tasted your love through it; it was all he could taste, with his numbed out senses, all he could feel.
you’re so good to him. there’s nothing he would trade for these moments with you, absolutely nothing. he’s glad you came over, after all. glad you’re so stubborn, and oh so caring. satoru can’t help but smile, heart almost stuffed to the brim with gratitude — what could he possibly do with this immense love in his chest?
”i love you so much,” he blurts out, practically beaming. now you’re in his lap, again, and he takes the opportunity to smear openmouthed kisses against your neck. delighting in the little squeak you try to muffle.
”where did that come from?” you blink, squirming a little in his embrace. a movie is still playing on the tv screen, one better than the last — your attention was fixed on it before satoru broke the silence.
”just felt like saying it!” he only chirps, grinning ear to ear. ”i love you. you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he murmurs, earnestly, lips against your skin. ”my whole world.”
for a moment, you wonder if the fever is making him delirious. then again, this is pretty standard for satoru; always eager to fluster you, to shower you with love until you’re pushing him away. it’s overwhelming, but you’ve never minded. this is how you measure his love — little gaps between too much and never enough.
”… you’re not gonna say it back?” comes a whine, right by your ear. now he’s nibbling at your neck, little beast that he is, pouting because you let the silence linger for too long. he’s being such a baby about it. but you still rush to reassure him, echoing his words in earnest. 
”i love you too, satoru,” you smile, slightly exasperated. craning your neck so that your lips can meet his jaw, and satoru grins, giddy at the attention. ”my whole universe.”
satoru lets out a happy little noise, almost a giggle, sleepy and pleased. his arms squeeze you just a little tighter, like you could never be close enough, even when he’s got you in his lap like this. if he could, he’d keep you there all the time. attached at the hip, close as can be. 
even with a ruined date, even after worrying you, he feels well and truly satisfied. because you're here, and you’re watching a good movie, and you’re gonna stay over tonight. when it gets dark out, he’ll get to fall asleep cuddled up beside you, hold you in his arms and feel you nuzzle into his chest. then he’ll pepper your face with kisses to wake you up, and you’ll grumble all sweetly, and he’ll carry you to the kitchen despite your grumpy protests. you’ll eat breakfast together, chatting and enjoying the way the sunlight flickers around the room like a happy cat. maybe he can even make you breakfast himself, to thank you for today. 
if the fever’s gone by then, you’ll probably let him outside. then you can go get those crêpes, and maybe go to a park, or to the movie theatre, or a fun arcade, before heading back to your apartment to relax. and then he’ll stay over. the day after, too. and the day after that.
living together with you wouldn’t be so bad, he thinks. it wouldn’t be bad at all, actually. 
the thought has been on his mind for a while, now. getting to fall asleep with you every night, eat breakfast with you every morning, see more of your footprints in his life… satoru can’t think of anything he’d like more. maybe he’ll start hinting at it, slowly but surely. if he can lure you into broaching the subject, that would be ideal — but if he has to, he doesn’t mind doing it himself. you’re worth the emotional toll.
you curl into your boyfriend a little further, his jaw now resting cheekily on the top of your head, large palms underneath your shirt and rubbing circles into your bare skin. you have no idea what he’s thinking, no idea about his plans, and he thinks that’s for the best. he knows you’ll indulge him, at the end of the day.
maybe he’ll just ask you, tomorrow. if you say no, he can just blame it on the fever making him delirious.
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vanessagillings · 1 month
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I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:  
I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic.  Some people who know me in real life still don’t.  And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM.  I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe?  I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag.  Even so, how could autism describe me?  I was a good student.  I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class.  I can make eye contact…if I must.  And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right?  Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?
If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it.  I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them:  sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak.  It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once. 
So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance.  It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day.  But it shouldn’t be like this.  It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities. 
It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person.  This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs.  No two people on the spectrum present in the same way.  And that’s a good thing!  No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.
But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic.  I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway.  I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day.  More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing.  My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.
If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network  autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:
What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz
We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia
Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess
Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD
Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom
Neurotribes by Steve Silberman
(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).
Thanks for reading 💛
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punksocks · 8 months
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Astrology Observation: No.24 (18+ Only)
No minors! Adults only pls
Just based on my opinions only take what resonates
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-Water moons/mars are the most likely to just say they love you during s*x (they may mean it too !); Can happen to fire moon/mars too but they may not mean it after the moment; Earth Moon/Mars will not be saying anything without planning well in advance (Earth moon AND Mars, you will not catch them slip lmao); I’d assume Air Moon/Mars would be the most likely to tease the other person(s) and say just about anything but I love you
-Venus aspects to Mars/ Taurus/Libra mars/ Venus and/or Mars in 2nd could really enjoy dressing up in lingerie and setting up a s*xy atmosphere in general (and your partner would enjoy this too !)
-1st/2nd /7th/8th house Venus, Scorpio Venus, Venus conjunct Pluto/ sometimes 12th house venus you may get compliments on your genitals from people during s*x (like told you have a pretty p*ssy lol yea fr)
-1st /8th house mars, Aries mars, Scorpio mars/Mars conjunct Pluto/sometimes 12th house mars would also be this for those in their masc energy (instead of pretty someone might admire the aggressive look of your junk instead)
-Imo the easiest sexual partners to discuss boundaries and such with will be partners that have easy (conjunct/trine/Sextile) mars aspects to your Mercury and/or moon
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-I know we’d assume that mars in 8th is the most s*xual but I’d argue that mars in 12th is also super s*xual. Intimacy tends to be heavy on the mind, and there’s a higher chance of mirroring s*xual energy back to others. Especially if the native acts out of their masc/mars energy
-i’d think Aries, Leo, and Scorpio mars would be the most into their partner being SO attracted to them they can’t keep their hands off of them and/or finish too fast (least likely with Scorpio unless you’re just really over stimulating them, most likely with Aries- the most veracious Aries mars go rounds imo)
-I’d argue and assume that air mars/3rd house mars are spacing out the hardest during s*x, and I bet it’s not on purpose (just bouncing between thoughts and coming back to what’s going on)(also if you keep their attention, you’re doing something right)
-Water mars could mean you sleep around for emotional validation (…Imma say it… cancer mars has the strongest chances lol)
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-I think your Venus and mars together can show if you’re more of a sub or dom imo (like if they’re both cardinal you’re probably a dom, if they’re mutable then you may be a switch/sub, and if they’re fixed I’d think you’d be hard set on being a sub or dom — and then results may vary depending on the combination of signs and how much of your feminine or masculine energy you act out of.)
-I think Scorpio Venus/Mars makes someone more dominant in s*x than Aries mars/Venus imo (they’re not here to win, they’re here to posses you- that’s so intense man)
-Understated praise kink placements? Virgo moon/mars. They need to hear praises for how well they did or they’re gonna overthink it. Libra/Taurus mars also would like this. And Venus square/opposition Mars would too in a tell me how much you want me sort of way (it makes them feel really desired)
-Tumblr ruined me bc now every time I look up a dudes birth chart and see Sagittarius mars/Jupiter positively aspecting mars I’m like damn, do they just have bde or actually have a big d*ck and I feel bad for guessing lmao but now it’s so automatic
-Strong Lilith placements (1st/7th/8th/10th) can show guys pressuring you to perform their like shadow side fantasies (which is not cool, because where’s the consent? We always need to discuss things beforehand and map out a plan otherwise it’s skeezy behavior -unless you’re into being surprised but even then lol)
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-Gemini placements (the big 6, but especially mars) make you louder in bed. And more open to trying new things and switching up positions.
-5th house synastry is really s*xy and fun. Some of the best dates and relationships imo. It also allows you to open up and experiment in a way you never have before. Can keep a long term relationship exciting as well depending on the overall synastry. (Be careful bc this is the pregnancy overlay too oml)
-I think north node in 5th can (depending on the sign and aspects ofc) can point to indulging in the senses, partying, breakin hearts and hookin up a bunch— especially if you’re unbalanced/still learning to balance this with your south node energy
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-(in sing songy voice) Scorpio synastry is someone telling you s*x with you makes them f*cking crazy (No they are not kidding ! Lilith synastry is this on steroids but it feels more like you’re lighting this fire in the more masc person - and they’re afraid of burning imo (I’m not singing any more lol)
-I hold to the fact that Lilith in 1st/7th/8th/10th can make someone jump into bed with you way faster than they usually would even if they have like an earth or water mars, if you have Lilith synastry with them this is amplified
-Masc folks/Men with Taurus and/or Cancer in their big 6 (especially mars/venus) are very attracted to women/femmes that are curvy and have an hourglass figure. Aries placements tend to be attracted to athletic figures. Leo placements are likely to jump at figures they find attention grabbing. Libra/Scorpio placement men are more likely to be attracted to figures that they’re socialized to find s*xy. I find that Sagittarius/Pisces is the least likely to have a set type. Aquarius and Gemini are also pretty dependent on personality and conversation skills.
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vivwritesfics · 2 months
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"Oscah"
Accord to his girlfriend, his name isn't Oscar. It's Oscah
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"Oscah!"
There was one person who said his name like that. Well, her brother sometimes did, but she only called him 'Oscah'. She hadn't said his name properly in months.
There was a small (rather large) part of him that loved it. It was a cute little nickname for him, like when Lando called him Osc.
Basically, the Norris siblings hated properly pronouncing is name. After a year in Mclaren, a year of being Lando's teammate, nearly a year of being with her, he barely knew his own name. Oscar Piastri? He only knew Osc and Oscah.
"Oscah!" He turned around at that. There she was, sitting beside her brother, readying herself to throw a balled up piece of paper at him. It didn't escape Oscar that she and Lando were sat in the exact same position. They weren't twins but they really could have been.
She wound her arm back and threw the piece of paper at Oscar. Call it his amazing driver reflexes, but he caught it and opened it out. 'U+ME = get out of here?'
He looked up, and she was still watching him. With a quick nod they were both out of their seats, walking out of the room as Lando sat there confused. "Thank you for enabling me," she said as she grabbed a hold of his hand, leading him outside.
Oscar stopped her and kissed her quickly. "I will never not enable you," he said and kissed her once again. "Now come on, before your brother catches up to us."
Even though they both loved Lando, he was the third wheel in their relationship. They both felt bad for taking off on him, but they just needed some time alone.
***
The paddock was bustling as Lando and Oscar walked through it. "Do you know where it is today?" Lando asked as he put his cap backwards.
Oscar's eyebrows rose. "It? You mean your sister?"
"Yeah, it," Lando reaffirmed.
Oscar had never heard Lando refer to his sister as 'it'. But it didn't surprise him. She bothered Lando just as much as he bothered her. "She is..." Oscar had to think about it. His girlfriend had told him where she was going to be while he was racing, but, for the life of him, he couldn't think of it. "I think she's at your grandma's house?" He suggested, but his eyebrows were raised, as if he himself didn't know.
"Huh," Lando muttered, nodding his head.
They continued on through the paddock.
"Oscah!"
He stopped dead in his tracks. She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be back in England, with grandma and grandpa Norris. Oscar wouldn't believe it, not until he saw her.
"Oscah!"
This time, he couldn't stop himself from running to her. Phones were out, cameras were clicking as Oscar grabbed a hold of her and pulled her into his arms. As a usually private person it was weird to see him being so public, but neither of them cared.
"Lando knew the entire time, didn't he?" Oscar whispered, still holding her.
"Who's idea do you think this was?" She whispered back, tucking herself into his side. "C'mon, Oscah, show me the car," she said, pulling him away from the cameras.
***
She had been napping as he finished up. She'd woken up far too early and no amount of monster energy was keeping her awake. So, she napped while she waited for Oscar.
When Oscar finished, he gently woke her up.
It didn't matter how gentle he was being though. She batted his hand away and tried to roll away, nearly rolling herself off of the sofa. "C'mon," he said softly, attempting to pull her up.
"Piss off, Oscar," she muttered with a groan. "Let me sleep."
It was so weird, hearing her call him Oscar. He wasn't Oscar, not to her at least. Who was Oscar? He didn't know.
He stood over her for a moment, and she finally looked up at him. "What? Oscah, what?" She asked, sitting up.
"There we go," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her up. "Got scared when you called me Oscar."
"When I called you by your name?" She asked as he picked her stuff up (what a gentleman).
"When you called me Oscar, yeah."
"What do I normally call you?"
He stopped and stared at her. Did she seriously not realise that she rarely called him by his name. "Say my name," he said.
"Oscah."
"Now say Oscar," he said, putting emphasis on the R.
"Oscar-oh."
Oscar couldn't stop himself from laughing. "You seriously didn't notice?"
She shook her head and Oscar kissed the top of her head. "I love you."
"Love you too, Oscah."
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redesignmyselfnow · 2 months
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౨ৎ pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
౨ৎ cw/wc: 1.1k! (not really proofread so don’t come at me) ; smut, fingering (e!receiving), oral (e!receiving), swearing, risky sex.
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“babe, shh!”
she whispered, trying to stop herself from laughing at your giggles. joel was in the living room with tommy, making ellie worried they’d hear. she was gonna say no, but she just couldn’t refuse your cute frown and your doe eyes.
“c’mon ellie! don’t be such a scaredy cat.”
she stuck her tongue out, making you jokingly roll your eyes. you pushed her up against the old dresser as you grabbed her face and brought her in for a messy kiss.
“fuck.”
she muttered against your lips, bucking her hips against you desperately.
“so needy.”
you said as you helped her sit up on the dresser. she lifted herself up a bit as you pulled off her jeans, her legs wrapping behind you as she pulled you back against her.
“thought you didn’t want this.”
you said teasingly as your hand made its way inside her underwear, feeling just how soaking wet she was. her head fell back against the wall, making you smile.
“such a pretty girl.”
she gasped when you started rubbing small circles on her clit, your unoccupied hand lifting up her white tee to find out she wasn’t even wearing anything under.
“oh look at that, almost like you had the whole thing planned.”
“baby, please.”
she said so out of breath you almost groaned. you grabbed the back of her neck, kissing her harshly just to hear the way she’d moan against you. you moved down, kissing all over her neck, loving the way she’d let her head fall back to give you more space. your hands moved up, lifting her shirt over her head. you looked up at her and smiled, she looked so nervous.
“you’re so cute.”
you told her as you went down further, sucking one of her nipples as you pinched and teased the other. she covered her face, making you giggle against her. you started leaving kisses down her toned stomach, watching as her stomach flexed with the way she was practically humping against you.
“please.”
she helplessly muttered, a small slap on the side of her ass being a sign to lift herself up as you slowly slid down her underwear.
“shit.”
you whispered to yourself, the way her slick stuck to her underwear made you just as desperate as she was. you fell to your knees, taking in the sight in front of you. her legs spread, her face flushed as her chest heaved up and down, her hand slow and careful as it came down to spread herself open for you.
“i need you so bad. please baby, please.”
she pleaded with you. you always give her what she wants, but sometimes you just love hearing her beg and beg for you to make her feel good.
“oh, do you now?”
she quickly nodded, moving her fingers down to collect some of her wetness, showing it to you. you grabbed her wrist, bringing her fingers into your mouth. you moaned at her taste and the way she was almost drooling at the sight of you.
“always taste so good for me, pretty.”
“yeah?”
her eyes full of lust. you nodded, moving her hand back onto the dresser as you left wet kisses all over her open thighs. her mouth was open, letting out little gasps and cute sighs. you paused, fingers moving down to spread her open. you watched as she clenched around nothing, her wetness seeping down onto the dresser. you smiled to yourself, leaving a kiss on her clit, making her jump slightly.
“baby.”
she whined just as you latched onto her, sucking harshly.
“ah fuck!”
she moaned against the back of her hand, the other moving down to tangle in your hair.
“baby, t-too much!”
she whined, trying her best not to be so loud. you just looked up at her, smiling with your eyes as your finger moved up to tease her clenching hole.
“oh my god.”
she sobbed out as a finger slipped inside, your mouth still teasing and sucking on her clit. her legs were wrapped tightly around you, her hand tugging at your hair.
“doin so good.”
you said as you left a kiss on her lower stomach, adding a finger and watching as she was practically riding them.
“there you go, so fucking good baby.”
she was nodding mindlessly at your words, starting to get dizzy off of the pleasure. you smiled to yourself, moving back down. your fingers stopped, pulling out. you gave her a couple seconds, wanting to hear that pretty whine she’d let out, which she did.
“baby!”
she said so cutely, her eyebrows knitting together. she was panting hard, hips moving up towards your face.
“it’s okay, it’s okay.”
you reassured her as you licked up from her hole to her clit.
“i just got a better idea.”
you said, your tongue teasing her hole.
“mhm.”
she agreed like if she had read your mind, her hips already starting to move against your mouth. she whined at the way your tongue felt inside of her, your nose bumping against her clit each time she’d move forward.
“fuck.”
you watched as her head fell back, almost going cross eyed. you smiled, moving your face faster against her, groaning as both her hands were tangled in your hair as she rode your face.
“fuck fuck fuck.”
she repeated over and over as she started clenching around your tongue. you moved your face side to side, your thumb going up to rub small circles on her clit. her legs began to tremble, eyes shutting closed as she came into your mouth. her hands moved to grip the edge of the dresser accidentally knocking over some of her art supplies. she looked at you with wide eyes when she heard footsteps making their way towards the door. she tried pulling back, biting back a moan when you harshly pulled her back towards your face as you cleaned her up. there was a soft knock on the door.
“ellie uh, you two alright in there?”
joel asked.
“yes! yup, uh huh, all good!”
she said in a rushed voice, eyes shut as she shook her head in embarrassment and tried her best to hide the trembling in her voice.
“you sure?”
“we’re all good joel!”
you said, giggling as you stood back up, kissing ellie on the cheek. you heard joel walk back into the living room, continuing his conversation with tommy.
“you’re such a dork.”
you said, booping ellie’s nose and smiling at how red her face was.
“i think i'm gonna have to stay in this room forever.”
she said, embarrassed, making you laugh.
this is my first time posting on here… my tumblr virginity has been taken 🤭 if ur here from wattpad, no this one’s not new sry :,) hopefully i’ll have more to post on here tehe
xoxo
nat
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wcters · 2 months
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𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗜𝗔𝗟 𝗚𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧
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pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader
word count: 2.6k
summary: y/n joins the triplets on the cut the camera podcast to talk about having a boyfriend who’s a triplet, social media, and hobby’s
warnings: dirty/sexual jokes, established relationship, swearing, sexual innuendos, not a warning but thank you @whoetoshaw for some inspiration. please check her out! i will probably make another one 🤍
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“Good morning campers, welcome back to the cut the camera podcast. It’s your hosts Nick Sturniolo,” Nick introduced, “Matt Sturniolo,” Matt told the camera, “and Chris Sturniolo.” The boys finished. “And we have a special guest if you couldn’t hear her laughing at us, Matt’s girlfriend, Y/n!” Nick told the camera as it showed you in your seat, smile on your face as you waved. “Happy to be here.” You spoke to the camera. It then panned to Matt sitting his his seat with his cheeks turning pink. “We had to beg her for so long to feature in one of these.” Chris laughed, shifting his hat as he spoke into the mic. “We had to buy her a box of Diet Coke.” He deadpanned. You smiled in response.
“Okay, to be fair, I’m not a social media person. I think the only social media I have and use a lot is Instagram and Facebook.” The three boys laughed as you mentioned Facebook. “It’s for family members! My grandparents have a hard time figuring out social media apps. But either way, have Tiktok but don’t even remember the last time I posted on there.” You tried to think but nothing was popping up. “That brings me into the first question,” Chris interrupts you, “what’s it like dating an “influencer” as some would call us while you just ━━ quite recently actually ━━ made your accounts public?”
“━━ before you speak,” Nick interrupted as Chris gave him an annoyed look and Matt groaned. “Here he goes.” Matt whispered into the mic. “I was just going to say she should introduce herself!” He yelled in defense as he put his hands up. “Oh shit, true.” Chris gestured to you. “Hello everyone, I am Y/n and I am a friend of the triplets and Matt’s girlfriend.” You started to introduce. “I like how she said a friend of the triplets and not just Matt’s girlfriend.” Nick laughed. “You know it babe.” You replied, laughing in your seat. “Anyway, I am nineteen. I am from Canada, and moved to LA around two ━━ three years ago? Yeah. Sorry, what was the question before?” “See, Chris? She has manners. You need to learn some.” Nick teased. “Shut the fuck up. The question was what’s it like to date an influencer?” Chris asked. Matt turned his head toward you.
“I’m not really sure what it’s like to not date an influencer since Matt was like . . . my first “real boyfriend” you could say, but I would assume it’s similar to a relationship with a non-influencer. You do the same things: dates, sleepovers, movies, etc. But he’s away sometimes,” you shrug, “when you guys went on tour, Matt was away a lot and we had to do long distance for a bit. I think it was hard for both of us ━━”
“━━ more for me.”
“━━ but it’s what happens when you date someone as famous as you guys are. I know what I was getting into, same with the social media part. I knew I would be on camera sometimes, especially because you guys vlog and other things. You guys respected my want to be off camera and I remember, Matt was so worried when we got together because we really liked each other but social media was his job, but I was fine with that! Of course I would be.”
“I was so worried,” Matt breathed out, “like I had mentioned before that I did what I do and she had mentioned that she didn’t want to be online, but when it got serious I didn’t want for this whole thing to be ruined because of what I do, you know?” “Of course,” Nick butted in, “and especially hate that she could’ve gotten ━━ no offense Y/n.” You nodded, “none at all. Completely agree.” “You would’ve felt a little scared, no?” Matt and you nodded. “I didn’t, and don’t, want her to be effected negatively from it. I mean, it’s inevitable really, but still. I couldn’t help it, still can’t, I’m her boyfriend.” “I knew what I was getting into,” you spoke, “it’s what happens in most male celebrity, youtuber fan bases. You guys get hate too sometimes.”
Chris nodded. “I think me and Nick were a bit unsure too. We had known you for awhile and we liked you. We talked to Matt about it too. Just saying like “watch out for hate,” and “support her,” and shit like that. You didn’t need any help at all.” “Like I said, I knew what I was getting into. I have friends that are dating some popular content creators and we have talked about it before. That’s how I know what to experience and how to deal with it. Thank you ━━“ there was a bleep as you said her name “━━ love you to bits.”
“What is it like to be on the podcast?” The youngest boy asked, looking at his phone and then to you. “To be honest? It feels great. I have seen this set from when it was just an idea to it actually happing and it is truly amazing to see what these boys can do.” You we’re honest, these boys had such great ideas and it felt unreal to see them come true. “Matt, you have such a nice girlfriend.” A laugh that sounded more like a giggle came out of Matt’s mouth. “Thanks. She is.” He replied, moving the mic. There was laughing around the table.
“This would’ve been super awkward if you were like “no, I hate her!”” You joked. Nick put his hand over his mouth. “I don’t know what I would do if that actually happened.” “Well good thing I’m not going to say that.” Matt spoke, looking at his girlfriend. “Thanks. What a man everyone,” you clapped your hands, “get yourself someone like this guy over here.” You pointed to him.
“Yes!” Nick yelled, clapping too. “And, there’s two other brothers . . . but one is gay. He is still available? Boys? Hit that line. And Chris’s too,” you pointed to the long-haired brother, “it’s too often he tries to get into the bed with me and Matt because he hates sleeping alone.” You whispered into the mic. The camera moved to Matt nodding and then to Chris as he started to protest. “No! You’re just over too often. Stop hogging my brother. I slept with him first ━━ wait!” He puts his hands up. You moved your hand over you mouth in shock as Matt leaned his head against the table and Nick copied your movement. “Not like that! I meant we,” pointing to Matt, him, and Nick, “had sleepovers before you did.” “Bitch, don’t bring me into this.” Nick chimed in. “Real.” You agreed.
“Let’s just move on!” Your boyfriend suggested as he lifted his arms up. “What is like dating a triplet?” He asked. “It’s not that much from dating a regular guy, apart from the fact that either one of these kids is following him everywhere ━━ mostly Chris ━━“ which earned a “what?” from the guy “━━ and sometimes I’ll like . . . steal a sweater or some sweats or something from Matt and then I’ll just be on the couch and one of the boys will come in and be like “I’ve been looking for that” and it gets confusing.” You laughed. “But besides some of those confusions, it’s like dating a guy and having two best friends that come with him.” “A package deal.” Nick agrees. You snapped your fingers at him, “yes. Exactly like that. And it’s so fun. It can get annoying, but what’s any kind of relationship if you don’t get annoyed?” “Yeah guys. I may be annoying, but you still like me.” Chris jumped in. “Yeah, sometimes I doubt that.” “Me too.” The other brothers agreed. “That was so inspiring.” Nick said. “Thank you.” You did a fake bow in your seat.
“You also help keep the house clean since you practically live over at our house.” Matt added. “I do, I do. I literally have clothes and my skincare shit at you house. And a toothbrush ━━”
“━━ And a toothbrush.” Matt said at the same time. “It’s convient for sleepovers!” Nick explained. “And also because you do just live here. There have been so many times where I’ve knocked on Matt’s door and then opened it and Matt’s just playing games while you’re chilling in his bed.” You nodded, shrugging. It was true. “Dude ━━ I have gone to wake up Matt for the day and I won’t even notice she’s there until I hear her move or some shit cause she’s all up under the blankets. Surprised you’re even under the blankets with Mr. Blanket stealer over here.” Chris points to Matt as Nick nodded his head and you laughed.
“I just tug em’ back. Or he just grabs me. This kid . . . I swear it’s like I’m never close enough.” “I just run hot you’re always cold.” Matt retaliated. “You run hot because you steal all the blankets!” Nick yelled. “I feel sorry for Chris every time you guys have to share a bed.” “Do you really though?” The boy in question asked. “. . . Not really, no. I like my blankets. Maybe you can teach him to share Y/n.” “I will certainly try.”
“And she can teach you fuckers to clean,” Matt retorted, “every time I go into your room it’s like I am walking through a morgue.” After he finished there was a “hey!” from Chris and a “that’s not true!” from Nick. “Keep me out of this.” You held your hands up in defense. “I will clean what I need to.” “She’s like a second mom.” Chris compared. “Don’t say that. That’s weird.” Matt muttered into the mic. “Yeah, this is like the same argument as the use of mommy and daddy.” Nick agreed. “Now, you just made it weird,” Chris pointed at Nick. “How about we move on so we can stop this from getting even weirder.” Matt clapped his hands.
“Yes. Next question. You watch our videos I would assume?” Nick asked. “Of course, who would I be if I didn’t?” You replied. “Period.” Chris replied. Nick gave him a side eye, “anyway . . . How do you feel that people are writing fan fiction about your boyfriend?” You covered your mouth with your hand. “What?” Matt asked, looking scared. “You guys are going to hate me for this.” You spoke. “You didn’t make one about Matt did you?” Chris joked. “No! I wasn’t that weird. But a canon event in every girls childhood ━━ and I mean every single one - was writing or at least reading fan fiction. Brittany Broski is so real for talking about it. Me? It was the guy who played in Doctor Who. The 2000s one.” “David Tennant?” “Yes. I was an avid Wattpad user. You could catch me on there every fucking day dude. I think I still have my account.”
A scream filled the room as everyone looked at Nick. “We have to find it and go through it. But . . . I still can’t believe you used Wattpad.” “Dude, ask any mentally unstable female girl and I promise you, she will tell you she did. I don’t use it anymore, but I was obsessed.” “Are the videos awkward to you because you used to write shit or no?” Chris jumped in. “A little bit. I mean, it must feel weird getting fan fiction written about anyone. But I think because I’ve been in that spot and writing it that I understand a bit more,” you admitted, “the videos are great ━━ like every video of yours is - and it’s so funny to see your reaction.” “We need to bring you sometime if you’re up for it.” Matt suggested. “Maybe?” You shrugged, dragging the word out. “It would be super funny.” Nick commented. “Oh for sure, but I don’t know if I’m ready to go back to that phase in my life.” You grimaced.
“Hashtag trauma.” Chris responded. “Please never say that again,” Nick murmured. Matt agreed with a “that was so cringey.” “Really though,” you laughed, “you get it.” Chris got up from his seat and high-fived you. “Have you guys ever read fan fiction outside of filming?” “Oh, switcharoo question. I mean, I have to check and find stories and make sure we don’t get demonetized. I don’t know about these two.” Nick answered first. “I haven’t, but I find it weird that Matt has wattpad downloaded . . . And that he asked people to send some to him.” Chris spoke. “It’s not like that!” Matt yelled, putting his face in his shirt. “Matt, honey. It’s fine.” You joked. “Oh my god.” His voice was muffled from the sweatshirt.
“Is that how you got into reading like . . . Actual books?” Nick asked you. “Not really. I’ve been a reader since I learned to read, but it probably had some effect on my reading.” You responded. “I read a lot now, too. Like if you guys are filming I’ll just hangout im Matt’s room or something and read.” “She’s always reading.” Matt said into the mic. “No actually. We could be getting picked up by Matt and this kid is in the passenger seat with a book in her hand. How can you even read in the car?” Chris blurted. “I actually don’t get car sick. I think I’ve been car sick once. I sleep in the car too. And I have the best naps in the car. It’s just something puts me to sleep. I’m not sure what.” You explain. “But yeah, I do read a good amount. I’ve got Matt to read a little too. Chris would you ever read?” “Probably not,” he answered,” just have too much going on. And no offence, but if I have time off I’m not going to sit down and read. There’s so many other things I could do.” You nodded your head, “to each their own.” “I’ll like nap or something. I feel like we’re all avid nappers.” Chris asked.
“No, totally. I love napping.” Matt answered. “Me too.” Nick agreed. “I’ll only get up if I have to.” “I’ll only get up if Y/n gets up or if Chris wakes me up. There’s not a lot that will get me up. Except if I need to pee or we have something that day.” Matt added on. “It’s true,” you nodded, “he will not let me go. And if I get up, he will get up and pull me to the couch if I’m not already on it and just lay there.” Your boyfriend nodded. “Hey, at least you have a personal pillow.” Chris added on. You nodded again. “You should by lucky? You know how many girls would want Chris to do that?” The blonde boy continued. Chris made a weird face. “Hey guys, make a fan fiction about it.” Matt looked at the camera. “No!” Chris yelled, slapping Matt’s finger that was pointing to the camera. “I’m just kidding, I don’t really care as long as they’re not super weird and gross.” “Cheers to that.” Nick agreed.
“On this note, I think we should wrap it up.” Nick announced. “That was today’s episode, it was amazing. Everyone thank Y/n for coming on the podcast.” Chris faced you, speaking into the mic. “It was an absolute pleasure. I would love to come back if you would have me.” You thanked them. “Of course. We won’t let you leave.” The blonde boy joked. “Just kidding, but still, thank you for coming on and we will see you guys next time. Bye!” Everyone waved to the different cameras before it showed you in your seat with Matt sitting next to you. “He’s secretly clingy.” You said before the camera shut off.
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fireflysymphony · 4 months
Note
Aventurine w a fem! bodyguard reader smut... 👀
Aventurine x fem! bodyguard reader
MDNI 18+ content ahead
A/N: thank you for the request! I really like the concept. I wrote it as a mix of headcanons and a quick drabble at the end. I hope you enjoy it <3
Word count: 2.7k
Content warning: Fem! Reader, slight exhibitionism, pet names, fingering, teasing, praise, needy lovestruck Aventurine, slight degradation, slight begging (on his end), pretty soft sex, Aventurine’s daddy kink strikes again, I have a lack of gun knowledge but just roll with it, not proofread
Headcanons
Let me make this really clear: HE’S not the one who needs protection right now; it’s YOU.
The second he met you he was sizing you up with that cute little smirk of his, making it pretty obvious that all professionalism was lost the very moment he saw such a pretty number was working for him.
You should have run then.
What was the IPC thinking when they hired you for this? Is this some type of wrath from the Aeons? What did you do to deserve this punishment?
From the very beginning, he’s a pain to deal with, but you don’t have the authority to talk back, only giving him tight smiles and apologetic words. He knows this and takes full advantage of the situation.
“Y’know, princess, if you’re going to be with me all the time, shouldn’t I have a prettier view? I don’t like having to leave everything up to the imagination. Do you think red or blue is more your color? Ah~ I’ll buy both.” And you’re sitting there seething as he taps away on his phone, seemingly oblivious to your displeasure. Was he just joking? What was he doing?
The VERY next day you see Aventurine holding up not one but two skin tight dresses with fabric only hiding your more intimate areas. It was more like lingerie than a dress like something you’d see on a stripper.
He evidently wasn’t just teasing you.
As politely as you could, you told him it would hinder your fighting ability if anyone were to attack, so you absolutely couldn’t wear it. He made some futile comment about how he’d love to see you try so he could get a peek up your skirt to, you know, “negate the traumatizing experience of him being attacked.”
In the end, you won the argument, and Aventurine threw a tantrum, muttering something about giving them to a woman who’d actually appreciate a gift like that. You told him straight to his face that he should just give it to the many women he brought to bed each night then.
The surprised and hurt look on his face will forever be carved into your memory.
After that, he actively stopped calling you by his nicknames which, deep inside, you missed, or it might just be the guilt of seeing his usually inalterable flirtatious self turn into a sad kicked puppy of a man. You held onto your pride though and forced yourself to bite back any apology or reconsiderations of his request you may have had. The man should have known your job was on the line, and his insensitive acts of fickle flirtation could not sway you.
The very next day he was up to his usual antics, and you got the impression that he only seemed upset to try to guilt you. Asshole. It only made you more upset with him. Did he like playing with your emotions?
Did I mention he loves it when you say his name? Sometimes he’ll ignore your presence just to hear you say “Mr. Aventurine? Boss?! Sir, I’m talking to you.” In your signature annoyed tone. It makes his heart melt. The only thing he can think of is imagining how your little pants and sighs of his name sound while he’s on top of you. How would you sound if you weren’t constantly annoyed at him? If he brought you pleasure?
Honestly, he was whipped for you from day one, and his actions might sound annoying and overly flirtatious, but that’s just how he shows love.
I could tell you so many things that this man has done for your attention, but that’d probably be the length of the Holy Bible. There are so many places this could go, but I think this instance of his sticks out the most amongst many akin to it.
You were used to casinos at this point. The loud blaring sounds of people playing the slot machines and thick, suffocating smell of alcohol were background sensations at this point. You couldn’t even bother to give them a second thought, not when a gun was pointed at the man you were supposed to be protecting. Safe to say the poker game was ruined. Champagne soiled the cards, shards of glass from the glasses littered the floor and table, and Aventurine, stupid Aventurine, had his hands raised in the air, his signature smirk pointed at the assailant like his own brand of deadly weapon.
“Hey, hey, now. This isn’t the place to have one of those, is it? Look, you ruined the cards!” Adventurine laughed, making a circling motion with his hand as if trying to gesture to the table of cards which were now soaked a yellowish brown color. Your hand rested on your gun, ready to fire at any sign of him about to pull the trigger. “Can’t we talk this out? I’m sure with a little persuasion you be happy to hand over-“
Your pistol fired later than his. Shit.
All that registered in your mind was the crying of two men, and Aventurine hunched over with a pained expression as he gripped his stomach. You were trained for this, but in your state of panic, you ran to him instead of making sure the attacker was dead. You scooped him up, struggling to carry him with your gun pointed at the now surrounded shooter while retreating from the casino. You wished you could make sure he was dead, but attending to Aventurine’s injuries were your first priority.
“You idiot. I told you to stop provoking people and look where we are!” You scolded him, Aventurine now quiet and clinging to your shoulders. You were too panicked to question his unusual behavior after just being shot in the stomach. “..If you’re worried, you won’t die. I got you.”
“I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, Princess.” He laughed, setting his chin on your shoulder. Sensing something was off, you turned down an alleyway and skidded to a stop. He wasn’t screaming in pain nor were his cheeks stained with tears, even the adrenaline wouldn’t keep him from crying out, right? “I’m surprised it took you this long to catch on. No, I’m not-“
Before he could finish his sentence, you dropped him to the ground before crouching down and lifting his shirt up. No wounds in sight.
“Getting rather intimate, aren’t we? You should give me the chance to do this to you.”
“Shut up! What did you do, Aventurine?!” You demanded, yanking his shirt back down before leaning back on your haunches. He looked satisfied with himself as he shuffled to lean against the alley wall. His hat and glasses were gone, probably from the scuffle. He’d have her go get them later.
“Uh-uh, remember who you’re talking to, beautiful.” He smiled, running his hand through his hair and covering his right eye, the other one illuminating his face well enough to be able to see his features in the darkness. “But since you haven’t figured it out, I simply hired someone to shoot me with a blank which, by the way, hurt like a bitch still. I might still need you to kiss my booboo.”
He saw you were about to open your mouth again and placed a finger to your lips, shushing you. “And before you ask: I replaced your bullets with blanks too, so you didn’t shoot an innocent man. I’m not that cruel.”
“You’re cruel to me.” You murmured, knocking his hand away from your face. He smiled and gave you a little shrug, just like a mischievous toddler who was proud when he colored on the walls. “You're impossible. I can’t believe I was actually worried for your life!”
“Worried? I make crazy bets all the time, princess. Gambling my life is no strange feat to me, you should know this.” He smiled again, this time actually touching your lips with the tip of his finger. Your lips parted, the fabric of his gloves sending you spinning. How soft were his actual fingers? What did they look like under those gloves? Were they long, slender, and delicate, or did they have some edge to them, all calloused and rugged? You imagined the former; Aventurine didn’t do much. “But, I have a pretty good hand right now. I bet you won’t stop me from playing it and showing you my cards.”
“But you’re gambling with my feelings too. That’s different. I don’t like being used.” You steadied yourself against the wall, trying to rid your mind of thoughts about his hands. Wait, when did he get so close? You were backed against the wall now, Aventurine caging you there with his lanky form.
“And I’ll make it up to you, just relax, babydoll. I just needed to be close to you. I couldn’t take it anymore.” He placed his forehead against yours, squeezing his eyes shut. His hand fit perfectly with her cheek as if their bodies were crafted for each other. You weren’t so sure, but the way you were feeling right now wasn’t professional.
“Let me take care of you instead for a chance.” He left featherlight kisses on your forehead, trailing down the side of your face. Each kiss grew longer than the last, his lips unable to pull away from you. He cupped both of your cheeks, his lips nearly touching yours as he spoke. “You aren’t pushing me away. I did all this for a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. Now the IPC can’t punish you if you indulge a little. Please, pretty girl, let me have this. Let me have you.”
You shuddered from his warm breath on your mouth, months of his teasing and antics festering inside you. Defeat was so easy in this moment, the taste of another person’s lips a fleeting memory ever since you got this job. His constant advances would only get worse the more you rejected him. Aventurine always got what he was due. Always. Whatever it be you warming his bed one night or taking you in the back of an alleyway, he’d get it. Deep down, you loved being chased, but now the hunter finally cornered its prey.
“Not again. Never again after this, okay? One time so you make it fucking count.” You grabbed him by his shirt collar, smashing your lips against his, the taste of champagne filling your mouth. He knew what he was doing and held the back of your head, tangling his fingers with your hair. Your actions caught him off guard though; he prepared for the crushing reality of you pushing him away, but you didn’t. Now he just needed to act like he knew you wouldn’t all along.
The softness of his lips lulled you into a daze, your hands aching from how tight you held onto him. Each time he pulled back for a breath, you didn’t give him much time to rest before your lips were on his again, asking for more which he provided with no hesitance. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, taking the delicate flesh between his teeth and playing with it before letting his tongue mold into yours.
“Someone’s a little needy. I could tell by the way you act that you’re pent up, but this is bad.” He fully pulled away with his face flushed, binding your wrists together and holding them above your head with one hand. He left open mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest. Not bothering to waste anymore time, he used his teeth to free your chest from the buttons of your blouse. “Fucking me in an alleyway like this? You must have wanted me from the beginning. Please say you’ve always wanted me, pretty girl. Please… please… fromday one, I’ve always needed you…”
He pulled down your bra with his teeth, kissing and sucking at your breasts with a hunger similar to that of a starving man. His tongue flicked over your delicate buds, moaning at the feeling of your warmth in his mouth. You were starting to think he was right. He acted like he really did need you. As you saw him buried in your chest, eyes filled with lust and desire, all your second thoughts faded to dust.
“Mr. Aventurine…” You tugged on his hair, blond locks soft as the finest silk. Of course he was soft and so delicate; he felt like he could break with one wrong move from you. How was he so torturous and annoying yet the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?
Aventurine’s heart stopped at the sound of your whiny cry of his name. The sound he’s been craving was more beautiful than he could have ever thought.
“I got you, my princess. You’re so beautiful, so fucking gorgeous.” He held up his free hand to his lips, biting at the fabric a few times before getting a hold of the glove and slowly pulling it off. He kept eye contact with you as he did, giving you the impression he was trying to be seductive about it. Before you could say anything about it though, he was already back to your body, hands roaming down to the waistband of your pants.
Within moments, your pants and undergarments were bunched at your knees, and Aventurine got straight to abusing your clit, your already slick folds acting as the perfect lube. “You’re so wet for me. What a naughty, naughty girl you are. So bad, you couldn't hold back that professional facade for long. Were your panties always dripping when you got home? Did you touch yourself and think about me doing this? What a fucking slut.”
He chuckled and collected the slick before shoving a single finger into you, letting out a louder moan than you. He loved the way you felt around him, how tight you were squeezing just one finger. “Fuck… so tight. Can you even take another?” He managed to get another finger into you, stretching you out as he twisted deeper inside of you. He worked at a slow pace while also kissing your neck and chest, selfishly leaving marks in his wake. Eventually, he sped up, losing himself as he pounded into you with another finger.
Your body convulsed, hiccuping in pleasure. “Fuck! Fuck! S-sir-! Shit, I’m gonna- gonna...” You leaned your head on his shoulder, biting down hard to silence your moans and other noises. What had been but five minutes, and you were already falling apart.
“So fast and easy. Cum then, you fucking whore, cum all over daddy’s fingers.” He demanded, slamming his fingers deeper inside of you. You threw your head back, crying out profanities you hope nobody passing by heard. Your walls clenched around him, a wave of pleasure crashing through your body as you coated his fingers in your pleasure.
“There you go, just like that. You feel so good squeezing my fingers like that, good girl.” He pulled out of you after helping you come down from your high, his long, slender fingers covered in your release. He didn’t waste any time in getting rid of the evidence, moaning at your taste as he licked himself clean. “So good, I love you…”
He hoped you didn’t hear that last part, biting his lip to silence the words he just spoke. Thankfully, you looked too dazed to care. If you brought it up later, he’d tease you until you didn’t think it happened.
He let go of your wrists and embraced you, cradling your head against his chest and letting you put yourself back together. He kissed your forehead, mumbling any praises he could think of in your ear. He wanted to savor this moment because in a few minutes, he knew he’d be pushed away again. No matter how good he made you feel; you’d make it clear to him that you’d never fall for one of his traps again. That’s just the woman you were, and he didn’t make bets he knew he couldn’t win.
A/N: this kinda got out of hand, and Aventurine bangs his bodyguard turned into Aventurine becomes a menace (again). If anyone likes this, I’d be happy to make a part two with more detail on how they got together. I apologize to the requester if this isn’t what you had in mind, but I still hope you enjoyed it! <3
Requests are open!
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hyperfixat · 1 year
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How they show affection, demon brothers!
roughly ~700 words :3 side characters ver
Mammon bites.
Seeing how quickly Mammon took to you, he started showing affection around day three of knowing you, after forming your pact. At first you thought he was sniffing your hair, and maybe you needed new conditioner, but then you felt the graze of teeth on the lobe of your ear and a gentle bite.
You don’t react, save for a mild blush, and Mammon’s makes an oddly bird-like chiro, before pulling away from you.
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
“You bit me,” you acusse. It’s not like you’re mad, but knowing why might be nice.
“Stupid human, you’re imagining things,” and if you didn’t believe him from the tone of his voice the aggressive sunburnt red that eclipses his whole face shows he doesn’t mean it.
Satan headbutts.
It took a while for Satan to be affectionate with you, maybe shortly after the Lucifer slash London incident was when he first rammed his (thankfully horn-less) head into your arm. You thought he just bumped into you, maybe he stumbled and to spare him embarrassment, you didn’t mention it.
But then it happened again, this time he made eye contact with you before shoving his scalp into your chest. You melted.
Satan’s so sweet to you, for real for real.
Lucifer purrs.
Now don’t ask him or accuse him of purring because he will deny it, vehemently.
((The Avatar of Pride does not purr, don’t be ridiculous, MC. (Lying through his teeth.))
You only had the opportunity to hear it once in your first year at RAD, the night before you left, he had let you hold his head in your lap and bask in the warmth of your stomach and thighs in between the other activities you did that night.
Lucifer’s eyes has lidded and he gaze up at you with near heart shaped pupils, eyes nearly completely red, and a low rumble began in his chest.
At first you had thought he was growling and you did something wrong, but when you had stiffened up for a brief instance, Lucifer had snuggled his face deeper into your skin.
Asmodeus rattles.
You can’t see where it’s coming from, but it sounds like a baby rattle or the rattle of a snake.
“MC!” [aggressive rattling]
It was really confusing the first couple times and you had to eventually ask if there was a bug somewhere. Asmo, naturally, got offended, but as soon as you told him it was okay and you were just curious, he tells you it means he’s happy.
Cutie Patootie!!
Belphegor licks.
Belphie doesn’t give short little kitten licks, he gives long, drawn out licks across whatever he can access easiest (usually your neck or chest). His tongue is rough and tends to feel a bit scratchy against your skin and sometimes catches on your clothes.
The first time it happened was shortly after the attic incident, and you had thought you were alone in your bed and nearly had a heart attack when a lazy, oddly thick tongue went over your exposed forearm.
You, as one does when startled, screamed.
Belphie leans upward with a grumble, eyes alert though. “What’re you screamin’ about, MC?”
Beelzebub bites and buzzes.
He tries to keep it to just licks, he knows his teeth are sharp :( and he’d hate to hurt you by accident. But after you get your pact and harming you becomes much more unbearable, he will play-bite much more often.
AND he buzzes (like a fly, teehee) when he is especially content.
Leviathan purrs(?).
It’s probably some deep sea monster echolocation thing, but the closest you can describe it as is a purr.
Now getting him to purr is harder than getting Lucifer to purr, he gets up in his own head a lot, so usually when he’s sleepy he purrs (maybe it’s a trill?) into your side.
Bonus for Memphis, TN. (Mephisto)
Since we have not seen his demon form (thx solmare), I have to use what I know of my babygirl to guess what he is like.
I think he probably taps MC with his cane, like a poke or something idk it’s cute give me more mephisto content pls.
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girl-of-many-fandoms · 5 months
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Ocean Blue Eyes // 2
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Pairing: Percy Jackson x Reader
Warning: none
Part 1 Part 2
MASTERLIST
---
From afar Percy could easily make out the silhouette of the girl who unknowingly stole his heart. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as she sat on a log staring out into the horizon.
The cool breeze caressed her skin sending a shiver up her spine. Y/N regretted leaving her zip-up jacket in her cabin but she didn't initially plan to sit here this long. However, when the sun began to set she couldn't leave without taking in the beauty of the sky. Hues of yellow and gold painted the sky as the sun slowly said goodbye to Camp Half-Blood.
It's been a few days since her and Percy shared a moment together a couple feet away from where she currently sat. She vividly remembers the way he stared at her, his touch, the way his soft lips felt against hers.
Percy has been trying to find a way to talk to Y/N. He wasn't sure if he had made the right choice kissing his friend or if he blew his shot entirely. He saw her shiver once more and removed his grey hoodie before making his way over to her.
Y/N jumped slightly at the feeling of something being draped over her shoulders. She didn't have to guess whose jacket now laid on her shoulders as the familiar and comforting scent of her friend filled her nostrils.
"Hey you."
"Hey stranger."
Percy joined her on the log and for a moment they didn't say a word, they just sat in each other’s presence, both trying to figure out how to approach the elephant in the room.
"So uh-"
"I'm so-"
The pair giggled at their attempt at sparking a conversation. The blue eyed demigod gestured for her to go first.
"Ladies first." He said.
"Well...uhh..how have you been?"
"Seriously?" Percy quirked an eyebrow at her with a smirk on his face making Y/N’s cheeks heat up. Y/N nodded her head causing Percy to laugh.
"Fine. For the past couple days I've been trying to figure out if I may have eternally screwed up our friendship and I might have since you've avoided me since then."
"I wasn't avoiding you." Y/N immediately got defensive but Percy proceeded to list out the many occasions she avoided him.
"Oh really? You haven't jogged past my cabin since then like you normally would, you've changed your route. I tried to have lunch with you yesterday but you took off when you saw me heading towards you. You also ditched training with me to train with Clarisse."
Truth be told he was hurt. Hurt by the fact that she chose to avoid him at all costs. Y/N turned to face him and he did the same, their knees now touched each other.
"I only kept my distance because I didn't know how this conversation would go. I wasn't ready to hear you say that you made a mistake by kissing me and that we should remain friends, isn't that what you're going to say?" Although she didn’t show it, she was anxious. She didn't know what words were going to come out of his mouth but she was betting on him regretting the kiss.
"For someone so smart, you're so clueless sometimes." Percy's lips turned up into a smile, watching as confusion etched its way onto her face.
"What?"
Without giving her a chance to think about what's happening, Percy cupped both her cheeks with his hands and pulled her in for a kiss. Y/N didn't hesitate to kiss him back as she gently held onto his forearm.
This kiss was much more intense compared to the last one as they both tried to pour all their emotions into it. Somewhere along the line they both remembered they needed air and slowly broke the kiss. Percy pressed his forehead against hers and interlaced their fingers together.
"Did that say I want us to be just friends?"
"No, not at all."
Percy kissed the top of her head as she snuggled closed into him. He didn't know where this would take them but he knew for sure that he would do anything for the girl in his arms.
As for Y/N, she too didn't know what the future holds but she was certain that they'd face whatever comes their way together.
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funficwriter · 8 months
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Fontaine Characters with Violinist Reader!
A/N: This disappearing thing of mine is annoying, I'm trying to stop it. However, I finally got a bit of spare time to play Genshin and I am so, so in love with Fontaine. I think it's gonna be a wonderful arc. I haven't felt this much jubilation since Liyue or Inazuma!
Warnings; None, really.
Lyney, Lynette, Neuvillette, Navia, Furina, Wriothesley (no particular order)
Lyney
First off, this boy is no stranger to performing, an activity he loves. Naturally, he's going to be most interested in fellow performers, including you!
If you're the type to get anxious before, or even during a performance, say goodbye to that with him. He'll guide you through plenty of destressing rituals to help you relax beforehand.
(This included, but wasn't limited to; Taking deep breaths, doing tongue twisters, asking you to play meme songs on your violin, or tickling your sides because 'laughing is a great way to be loose'.)
Even during, should you freeze up and he's in the audience, he'll do a quick but loud magic trick to get everyone's eyes off you. Even one that makes him look like a fool, so long as you have time to put yourself together.
He'd LOVE to have you on stage with him! He adores your music and would ask you to sync it up with dramatic moments in his magic.
If you compose you own stuff, he's pretty much your biggest fan. The guy who never misses a concert. The loudest clapper. The biggest braggart.
"That gorgeous, graceful violinist we had the pleasure of watching? What if I told you that they're coupled up with an equally electric performer? That is, me~."
Lynette
It's easy to think that her brother outdoes her in terms of being your fan, but quietness hides a lot. If you think she doesn't care as much, you're so, so wrong.
She learned several music skills just to be closer to you, including sight-reading. BTW, she's got a killer voice and loves to sing out your compositions. Sometimes it helps you come up with alternative movements within them.
She can also play piano, to a good level of accompaniment. With time, one would think she is also a music assistant; It's not uncommon for her to be on your stage.
Lynette is VERY attentive to your instrument. Does it need rosin? A new bow, perhaps a re-hair? You just say the word, and she'll happily take it to the repair workshop if you have no time.
"By the way, Y/N prefers real horse hair, the thinnest you have. Don't worry. They're talented enough to thrive on it.".
She makes it a point to let you know how much she loves what you do: "All other music in Fontaine pales in its beauty next to yours. Please, keep playing.".
Neuvillette
You play the violin? (he crosses his legs and assumes his royal position). So when are you going to get married? Will you be okay playing a few pieces, even while being the spouse? /Half-joking, tbh.
For him to say that he is the lover of a music pioneer as important as you... Will never not be a moment of joy for him.
First off, what a sugar daddy. I hope you made a list of the expensive violins you wanted but couldn't afford. Because now, it's yours, never mind the Mora. Your very case may as well be coated with gold.
He won't die on this hill, but he would love it if you could play a bit during the parties he hosts. He loves live music to begin with, but after hearing you, it feels like no other pro could hope to sound as good as you.
(And side note, he likes how mesmerized everyone is with you lol)
If you're the type to remember your patron's personal preferences, and compose/play in accordance to that, just for him? Put hearts in his eyes. He's no longer joking about the wedding thing.
While he loves showing you off, he'll never force you if you're shy/nervous. If anything, he would also feel very special if he got to heard songs not out yet, compositions just for him...
"Perhaps this is Lady Furina's way of rewarding me for my years of service. Bless our Archon for giving me such a talented, show and heart-stopping partner.".
Navia
She likes that the Spina del Rosula is represented by passionate, talented people!
If you like sweets, I say just join her team. It's guaranteed pastries after each request lol.
Her detective work is cool, but can get a bit drab after a while. She likes asking you to play some violin ambiance, partly because it makes her feel cool, and partly because your music changes the atmosphere for much better.
Navia is a woman of decorum, but she'll often have trouble staying still during your concerts. It doesn't matter if there are rules to how loud a woman can cheer, she's happy for you and will make sure you know that.
She becomes even more proactive than usual. If a concert of yours falls on the same time as her work, she'll scour the ends of Teyvat for its solution, so she can see you.
With time, she might request you to play pieces that her father loved. Once they're brought back to life, through your own strings, she can't help but be a little emotional. She must have done something wonderful to have you.
"How beautiful, how poignant as you, my dear Y/N! This calls for macaroons! Which flavor would you like today?".
Furina
"Yes, Neuvillette, I know they perform and all, but why can't I keep them to myself! They're so darn great, I want that everyday!"
Of course, she's not gonna stop you, but beware; I feel like Furina would almost turn you into her own personal violinist lol.
She'd keep requesting your presence over her other personal entertainment and somewhat bombard you with song requests. Buuut if you're looking for a varied repertoire, she's your gal!
One reason she requests so much is because she so impressed with how you not only fulfill them all, you do it so creatively and beautifully. You don't just follow the note as it is... Once you're acquainted with what she likes, you modify the tune a bit to be more her taste.
She's so cute when she claps; The way her hands go so fast and she's about to get up from the seat, the huge eye and smile... Why, you might start reconsidering her offer.
"Bravooooo, Y/N!! Bravo! That was everything, I can't go on without an encore!"
If the tune is more happy-go-lucky, she will get up and dance along. Will also do it in circles around you because she's your little orb :3
Wriothesley
"Forgive me for intruding... But I was overhearing, and your playing is terrific. Electrifying. Do you happen to perform on Saturday nights? That's when I can leave the Fortress for a bit.".
Of all your fans, Wrio is one of the quieter ones, but not so much that no one knows it. For one, he's a Duke, he's bound to enjoy good music. And heavens knows he needs some fun in his life.
Here's a fun thing (ngl this is what I was excited to write): At first, it doesn't sound like he can make it to your recital. You see him on his desk, surrounded by paper mountains that only ever seem to grow. He doesn't want to make you sad, but his remark lets you know that he's not coming: "Would it kill some of these people to tone it down for a bit so I can go see my partner perform?".
So imagine your shock when you step on stage, and see him on the first row, sitting tall and handsome, shit-eating grin on his face and waving. You really bought it for a moment.
"Hehe... Did you really think I can't even make a bit of time to see Fontaine's best violinist in action? You actually bought that?".
I HC that he has insomnia, and has tried any things to cure it, but to no avail. It's rumored in Fontaine that his is incurable, but little do they know about how he lays down next to your sitting form. Little do they know of the soft lullabies you composed just for him, or how peacefully he dreams afterwards 💜
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
Text
Eddie's at a party, lunch box in tow, and he's making a fucking killing.
He sets up shop in the crowded kitchen, but that doesn't stop him from spotting King Steve in the living room. Harrington's face is still fucked up from the fight with Hargrove, and he's tipping a cup almost vertically into his mouth. He's not too surprised when--the next time he spots the jock--he has a can of beer in each fist.
More customers flood up to him, and he can't help but be a little grateful for the distraction. Harrington is one unrequited crush he just can't kick.
Lunch box cleaned out, Eddie heads outside for a smoke. He's fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket when he hears a snuffling sort of shuffle that sends his heart racing.
He edges forward, just enough to make out the heap of a person half-heartedly sitting up against the house. A person in fitted blue jeans, tight polo, and Member's Only jacket; swoop of chestnut hair catching in the flash of fire from Eddie's Zippo.
"Harrington?"
The guy startles, stability wavering, eyes blinking too much. "Munson?"
"You alright, man?" He asks, though he can already tell that Steve is most definitely not.
Steve shrugs. "Why do you care?" It's not mean, sounds genuinely curious.
Eddie gets it. He has no reason on earth to show concern about King Steve. In answer, he taps his boot against Steve's sneaker, giving him a small smile. "Not sure. But I'm here, so..."
"Just needed some air. Clear my head."
"How much have you had to drink?" Eddie asks.
"One or two,"
"Dozen?"
Steve laughs. "You're funny. Has anyone ever told you that?"
"I've heard," Eddie says, can't help but laugh a little too. "Wanna talk about what's going on?"
Eddie thinks that'll be a "no," but then: "Nancy dumped me."
"Yeah, big news."
"Ugh, people are talking about it?" Steve whines. It's really cute and Eddie hates himself for noticing. Hates himself more when Steve loses his balance, tips onto Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie doesn't tip him back.
Eddie can tell that Steve isn't fully with him anymore. He's a little afraid to leave the guy alone, so Eddie talks about the latest Hellfire campaign. Sober Steve Harrington probably has no idea what dnd is, but the drunk version is kind of a rapt audience.
He's just explaining about owlbears when Steve's voice, soft and sad, says "I just want someone to love me, you know?"
The admission renders Eddie speechless for a second, his chest fucking aching for the jock. He says "Oh, Stevie," knows he sounds too sad, is sure of it when Steve's nose wrinkles (it's cute; it's so fucking cute. Eddie hates himself for noticing).
Before he can backtrack, Steve slumps over, body going limp as he passes out. "Jesus H Christ," Eddie barks.
With a heavy sigh, and way too much fondness, Eddie stands. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."
He gathers Harrington up in his arms--dude is heavy--and carries him around to his van.
---
Steve wakes up, head throbbing and tongue fuzzy, with no idea how he got home and into bed. Can't really recall anything after he stumbled outside, aside from talking to Eddie Munson. But maybe that was a dream? Either way, he's home, not really any worse for wear. It's enough to let him forget all about it; what's one drunken party in a life full of them?
That Wednesday, he opens his locker after the final bell, and a Hershey bar falls out. He picks it up, flipping it over to see a note on the foil wrapping, "thought you might need something sweet to cheer you up." It's not signed, and Steve slips it into his backpack, knowing he's got a silly smile on his handsome face.
The little gifts continue to show up once or twice a week. Candy, plastic vending machine toys, sketches of the school grounds, caricatures of classmates and teachers. Sometimes they even come with a note in handwriting he doesn't recognize.
Along with the little treats, he starts seeing Eddie Munson kind of everywhere. And it's not like Steve hadn't seen him before--guy was hard to miss--but he was never around this often. Wasn't around this often and he and Steve had never shared a smile, a quick bob of the head, a quiet hello.
It isn't long before they're talking. Nothing much, nothing serious. Complaining about teachers, about classmates; sharing weekend plans. Only now Steve can't pretend to not notice the way Eddie dimples up when he smiles, the subtle muscles that bunch under the sleeves of his Hellfire Club shirt, the long litheness of his legs. Steve knows he's attracted to other guys, it's just that he didn't realize he'd be attracted to Eddie.
The gifts keep coming. Once, he opens his locker to find a plastic ring fashioned into a golden crown and a note that says, "made me think of you, Stevie." There's something about the "Stevie" that catches deep in his brain, but he can't make it connect to anything.
A few months later, Steve opens his locker and pulls out a drawing. This one--it's of him. He's gazing out into space in a way that managers to be dreamy and wistful. The Steve in the drawing is lovely, and it makes something clench deep in his gut, that someone sees him like this.
Steve tries to be more aware of the people in his surroundings, to figure out who his admirer is. He's not very good at it, even as more sketches of him--all depicting him as a gorgeous, ethereal thing he definitely isn't--show up in his locker. Especially when, so often these days, the person he sees the most is Eddie.
---
The presents in his locker continue into April, and would probably last until the end of the school year, but Steve's got a migraine starting. He keeps aspirin in his locker, gets a hall pass out of English to get some.
When he reaches his locker, though, someone is already there, with the door open. Someone in ripped black jeans, heavy black boots, a black leather jacket, and patch covered denim vest.
"Munson?" He asks. His heart beats so hard it reverberates in his ears, making it hard to hear.
Eddie jumps back, hands fluttering, face flushing bright red. "Ste--Harrington! I--uh--," he's backing up, his hands held out from his body, like he's pushing Steve away even though they aren't touching.
"Were you--?" Steve tries to ask, but the words won't quite come. There's familiar warmth low in his stomach, a twisting that has nothing to do with his impending migraine.
"I wasn't doing anything, I swear," Eddie says. He's breathing hard, eyes too bright, and Steve thinks he might be about to cry, but then the metalhead is turning away, starting to run.
"Eddie, wait!" Steve calls, chasing after him without much thought. "Please!"
Eddie doesn't stop until after they've crashed out one of the side exits, are alone outside.
"It was you? Leaving the--?"
Eddie nods, presses his hands to his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Harrington. I just--"
"Don't be sorry," Steve begs. "It's been--I liked it."
"Even now that you know they're coming from the freak?" Eddie spits. He still hides his face behind his hands.
"It's sort of been the best part of my year, if I'm being honest."
Only now does the metalhead remove his hands, blink back at Steve, dark eyes wide with shock. "Really?"
"Yeah. It made me feel-- important, I guess? Like, maybe someone saw me as something more than King Steve."
Eddie smiles now, looks down at the pavement. "I just didn't want you to think that you weren't--" he stops then, presses his mouth tight.
"Didn't want me to think what?"
"That you weren't loved, Stevie."
The statement hangs between them, Eddie's face pinking again, as the words wrap their way around Steve's heart. Loved. That he's loved. It clenches at every part of him, and he surrounds himself with the truth of it, what all those little presents were saying without words.
"Eddie, I--" he's overwhelmed by the gesture, the meaning, the reciprocal buzz in his chest, because Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson, loves him, and this fact is turning Steve's world on it's head in the best way.
"I'm sorry, Steve, really. Please don't hate me, or--or--"
"It means so much to me," Steve says, his voice a little broken. He reaches a hand out, slow, telegraphing the movement. "Can I?" He whispers.
Eddie nods, and Steve strokes the skin of his face with his thumb. "Thank you."
The metalhead nods, leaning into Steve's touch, they shift close, until their foreheads meet, until they share the same air. They stand that way for a while, long enough that they hear the bell ringing, and only then does Steve break their quiet. "Eds?"
"Yeah, Stevie?"
"You wanna hangout some time?"
Eddie laughs. "Yeah. I really, really do, sweetheart."
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oneforthemunny · 13 days
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what we do in the shadows |familiar!eddie munson x vampire!reader|
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prompt: eddie is your familiar, but sometimes, he can be more than just your supernatural servant.
based off the fx show, what we do in the shadows. a little au version with eddie and the gang from hawkins :)
contains: au. familiar!eddie, vampire!reader. mentions of murder. vampire things. blood. types of vampires (energy vampire lol). mean! bitchy! reader. alludes to smut?? sorta smut but not really but slight dom!reader x sub!eddie. language. minors dni.
“Eddie!” 
The muffled screech jolted Eddie from his mundane dusting, the feathered duster falling with a heavy thud onto the dark carpet, dust flying in a cloud at his feet. “Son of a bitch,” Eddie huffed, chains of his belt rattling when he bent, snatching the duster off the rug. 
“Eddie! Can you not hear me?” The piercing scream echoed through the hallway, echoing off the dark, wallpapered walls. Eddie knew he needed to hurry, that the banging on the coffin’s lid would come next, your fury following for the rest of the day. 
“I’m coming, Mistress!” Eddie’s teeth gritted, sliding down the dim, candlelit halls. How this place had managed to not burn down yet, Eddie wasn’t sure. The three of you were careless enough with the candles, always leaving them burning without a care. He supposed it was his job. 
“Eddie! Where the fuck is he?” Your muffled tone came from the coffin, black and dramatic in the middle of the room. 
“I’m here, I’m here.” Eddie huffed, pushing his bangs back out of his eyes. He needed a haircut, desperately, but with his new career, he supposed that wouldn’t happen anytime soon. 
“Finally,” You growled. Eddie was met with your glowing amber eyes narrowing in predatory rage when he lifted the coffin’s heavy lid. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting?” You snapped. 
“I’m sorry.” Eddie nodded, swallowing back a snapping comment. “I was dusting down the hall, and I lost track of-” 
“-Nevermind.” You snapped, rising quickly into a standing position. “Help me down. I have much to do today.” 
“Yes, Mistress.” Eddie stood to the side, offering his hand for you to take as you climbed down. He always wondered why you insisted on being helped out, as if you couldn’t fly out, snap your fingers and be wherever you wanted to be. It was symbolic, he decided, a way to ensure that he knew his place. 
Your hand slid into his. His skin tickled when you brushed your long, claw-like nails that were freshly painted every Tuesday. He’d gotten very good at it, Eddie thought. A hiss fell through the room, your hand pulled back with a sizzling burn, teeth bared towards him in threat. 
“What- Eddie! What have I told you about those rings?” You pointed accusingly at his rings- silver. It was a habit, to slip them on in the morning, one he hadn’t broken yet. “Are you trying to hurt me?” 
“No, no.” Eddie shook his head frantically, tugging the rings off, shoving them in his pocket. “I’m sorry. I-I forgot-” 
“-I’m sure you did.” You rolled your eyes, lips pursed in displeasure. “Don’t let it happen again. I burn myself again on those cursed things, and you’ll not have a hand to put them on anymore. Understand?” You clipped, nose in the air as you climbed down, nails digging into his skin just enough to solidify the threat. 
“Yes, Mistress.” Eddie swallowed, following the commanding sway of your hips. “I won’t let it happen again.” 
“Good.” You chirped. There it was. The whirlwind that was your emotions. Mood swings, Eddie never understood why they called them that until he met you. How you would go from raging to sweet in the bat of an eye. Maybe it came with being a vampire. 
“Get my dress.” You waved your hand, the heavy mahogany closet door flinging open with ease. 
“Which one were you wanting today?” Eddie swallowed his agitated sigh. 
It had been a rough couple of days, the three- fuck, four, of his new found ‘roommates’ had been on a bender of sorts. A bender that would put the rockstars he idolized in high school to shame, much more metal than them. It was fun, Eddie would admit, but it was tiresome. Especially when he was still very much human, and so very exhausted. 
“The black one.” You hummed, looking into a mirror you couldn’t see yourself in. Habit, of course, even after all these years. 
“They’re all black, Mistress.” Eddie gritted, eyes pinching closed. 
“The one with the long sleeves.” You waved him off. “You know the one I like.” 
And he did. Eddie knew most everything about you at this point. Which dress you liked, your preference of food source, how many candles you liked lit at a time. 
Eddie pushed through the racks, stopping when he saw the velvet garment. It was what you were wearing when he first met you. At the Hideout, where he was still bussing tables, hoping to finally get a weekend gig. You strolled in, magnetic from the moment his eyes laid eyes on you. So… intriguing in your tight velvet dress, fastened with a corset that held you up and in beautifully. Initially, he’d went to try and ask you out, and you’d humored his attempts because you were hungry. Then, after a few hours of conversation, you both decided he’d be a better Familiar than a meal.
“Eddie,” You hissed, breath whistling through your fangs. The sound never failed to make Eddie’s spine tingle, hair raising on the back of his neck in fear. “Have you hit your head? Is that it?” 
“No,” Eddie grumbled, pushing the wooden hangers. 
“Then what is it? Hm? Why are you dragging your feet today?” You snapped, hands curling around your hips. 
“My apologies, Mistress.” Eddie huffed. “I’m just- nevermind. Here. I found it.” Eddie pulled the lacy material, hanging sleeves and bouts of black fabric out of the closet, hanging it on the door for you. 
“No, finish what you were going to say.” Your eyes narrowed into his, commanding, but lacking the usual tone of challenge and threat. “You’re what?” 
“It’s nothing. I’m fine. Do you need help zipping up this one-” 
“-No, answer me, Eddie.” You lifted a finger towards him. “Do not make me use compulsion. I know how groggy and moody you get after it, and I have many plans for today. I’d rather not, but if you’re not going to comply, then I will be forced to-” 
“-You don’t have to- Fuck, I’m just tired.” Eddie’s shoulders slumped in defeat, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t sleep much last night.” 
“Why?” Your head tilted, lips pursed in curiosity, reaching for the dress before sliding behind the dressing curtain. 
“Because,” Eddie tried to focus on the carpet, on the candle wax that dripped off the table, anywhere but the curtain you were behind though he ached for even a silhouetted sliver of your frame. “I just couldn’t sleep.” 
“Maybe you should get a coffee?” You peaked over the bamboo wood, a brow lifting in… playfulness? 
“I think Robin has the lock box in her room. Ask her for it and go get yourself one.” As if draining a victim of their blood wasn’t enough, Eddie’s career consisted of stealing from them too. It always left him feeling a little uneasy, guilty, robbing the deceased. 
“I’m alright. I just need a second to wake up.�� Eddie muttered, heel of his palm pressing to his eyes, rubbing so hard he saw stars. 
“Fine, but I better not hear one yawn during the house meeting.” You glared, stepping out from behind the dressing curtain. “You know how that irks me. Zip me.” 
Eddie stood, one hand holding the top together, pulling the zipper slowly up your spine, finger brushing over your spine. Your skin was cold, like ice, a chilling reminder of what you truly were. 
“Last chance.” You turned, swiping your shoes from the floor, discarded from the night before. “Before I go and wake the others.” 
“I’m fine.” Eddie nodded softly, lips curling with the hinting of a smile. “Thank you.” 
Your lips pursed, shifting at the sudden gratitude. He knew you were about to say something mean, put him down to establish your own dominance, you were predictable that way. “Don’t thank me,” You scoffed. “It’s not for you. I don’t want to hear your yawning.” You scoffed, eyes rolling hard towards him, before you were stomping down the creaking wooden planks of the hall. 
The Creel Mansion was still standing strong, despite its abandoned looking exterior. It had been your refuge for years, decades even, since Victor had first brought you there. It was his house before, but now all that remained of him was a portrait at the end of the hall, half covered by a black veil you refused to let Eddie move. 
“Robin!” Your shrill tone made Eddie wince, ears ringing at the pitch. “Nancy!” 
“What?” Robin groaned, her voice muffled with sleep from the door of her coffin, which you pulled open, uncaring of disrupting her slumber. “What- Why?” 
“House meeting. Hurry, before he gets home.” You muttered, turning over your shoulder towards Eddie. “Eddie, go check downstairs. Make sure he didn’t slip in early.” 
Eddie nodded, grabbing a small handheld lantern- a gift from you. He kept burning himself with the candle opera you’d gifted him, and when he wasn’t searing his skin off with the flame, he was turning to quickly and extinguishing all the flames. You told him it was because he’d wake you up with his fumbling in the dark. When you’d included the batteries with the small lantern, Eddie was convinced it was because you were growing a soft spot for him. 
A creaking of a door had Eddie jumping, looking through the flickering flames with his bright plastic lantern. “Uh, hey,” Eddie stepped closer. “Anyone there?” 
The silence was an eerie answer, Eddie swinging the lantern around. It was times like this, he really wished that the electricity still worked, that he could flick a light on, and see what was lurking in the shadows. The dining room appeared empty, a few spider webs and lots of dust, but lack of any danger Eddie could see. 
“Looking for something?” 
“Jesus Christ! What the fuck-” Eddie jumped, nearly dropping his lantern, tripping over his own feet to scatter away from the figure in front of him. 
“Did I scare ya?” Jonathan’s lips curled in a half smile, standing rigidly in the doorway. “You know, they say if you get scared easily, you’re not living right. That’s a saying that’s been repeated and found all throughout history. In Christianity, oddly enough, is where they-” 
“-Alright, Jonathan. I got it.” Eddie lifted a hand, his heart still hammering. He could feel his lids beginning to droop, eyes starting to gloss over the way they always did when Jonathan ‘fed’. A shitty excuse for a vampire, Eddie thought, What the fuck even is a psychic vampire? 
“Oh,” Your face fell, contorting into a grimace when you came down the steps. “Jonathan, you are home early today.” 
“Yes, I decided to come home early today.” Jonathan droned in a painful monotone that had your shoulders tensing. “I didn’t want to miss the house meeting.” 
“Wonderful.” You grimaced, looking at Eddie with an annoyed sneer. He fought back a snicker, turning to the bat down a cobweb that he missed. You could be funny at times, when you wanted. 
“I know you three tried to hide it from me, but you always talk too loud. You forget the walls are thin. Which reminds me, did you know that back in the early nineteen-hundreds when this house was first built, that architects of that time used-” 
“-Yes, Jonathan. Please, shut the fuck up.” Robin groaned, falling into the leather armchair. 
“Jonathan, I really can’t humor you today.” Nancy glared at him lightly. “You know the rules, if you’re going to be in a house meeting with us, you can’t feed off of us.” 
“I know.” Jonathan lifted his hands. “Sorry, I can’t help myself.” He turned to Eddie with a grin. “Guess it’s just you I’ll be feeding from.” 
“Not from my Familiar either, Jonathan.” You snapped, teeth baring in territorial threat. “Eddie is off limits.” Eddie’s chest swelled with pride, chin tipping towards the floor, hoping it would hide his blush. 
“Why are we even having a house meeting?” Robin rolled her eyes, the bags under her eyes especially prominent from lack of slumber. 
“Because,” You hissed, shoulders tight with annoyance. “You three need to get your own familiar.” 
Robin scoffed, Nancy rolling her eyes in agreement. “What?” 
“You three always call for Eddie to do everything, and it distracts him from me.” You jabbed a sharp nail into your chest. “I need him to be attentive to my needs, not yours. Go get your own familiar.” 
“Oh, please-” 
“-We only ask him to do a few things that should already be done-” 
“-I have to agree with Rob and Nance on this one.” Jonathan lifted a finger. 
“Do not call me that.” Nancy hissed, her teeth baring in the dull light of the room. 
“Nan?” Jonathan turned, eyes lighting up though his expression stayed neutral, the way it always did when he was feeding. 
“Ok,” You lifted your hands, stopping the attack Nancy was about to launch. “Find your own familiar. Eddie is my familiar, and is to attend to me exclusively.” 
“I’m sure he does.” Robin muttered, Nancy’s snicker making your ears burn- well, it would, if they still could. Eddie’s cheeks did burn a bright red, shifting at the innuendo. 
Your eyes narrowed, a threatening glare that neither of your roommates seemed phased by, only furthering your irritation. A sharp snap of your fingers, heavy soled steps clicking down the hall, and Eddie was following you.  
“Idiots,” You hissed, flinging the door open. “All of them. I should’ve told them no, that they’d have to find their own nest, but oh no. I had to feel fucking generous and kind that day.” 
Eddie stood in your doorway, hands rubbing down the material of his jeans, unsure of what to say, what to do. His eyes on you, waiting for your next command, for you to tell him what you were wanting, what you were thinking. 
“Are you just going to stand there?” You huffed, a lashing tone that had Eddie jumping. 
“No, wha-what do you need me to do?” Eddie stammered, uneasy with the glare you were giving him, so menacing. He knew better, or at least he thought he did, that you wouldn’t hurt him. You’d chosen him to be your Familiar for a reason… right?
“I don’t know, something?” You scoffed, eyes rolling back over his frame. “Maybe start with changing your clothes. We’re going out tonight and I’m not being seen with you in that.” 
Eddie’s lips pursed, jaw grinding tight. He’d blame the lack of sleep on his agitation. “What do you want me to wear then, Mistress?” Eddie’s tone was bitter, toying on the edge of annoyance. 
“Who are you speaking to-” 
“-You.” Eddie snapped, shocking both of you. There was a pause, realization washing over the two of you. “I just- I like what I have on, ok?” Eddie’s tone was softer, looking down at his ripped jeans and holey band tee. “It’s what people from this century wear.” 
Your lips rolled, flattening into a furious line. For a moment, Eddie thought you might pounce- fully preparing himself for the hiss, the baring of teeth, to feel his throat being ripped from his neck. Instead, you simply huffed, turning on your foot. 
“Fine.” A quipping, positively moody huff of a reply came. In that moment, you sounded petulant, human. 
“If you insist on wearing mauled clothing, then so be it.” You shrugged, a snarl still pulling on the edge of your lips. 
“Thank you.” Eddie nodded, swallowing down the tremble in his throat. “And, uh, thank you for before, too.” You turned, brow lifted in intrigue. “For- During the meeting.” 
“I didn’t do that for you.” Your reply was quick, teetering on defensive. “I did that for myself. I can’t wait for you because they’re too lazy to go out and compel their own Familiar.” 
“Right.” Eddie’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He gave up, ready to throw the towel in. Clearly, you were set on your mood and there would be no changing it. No swaying it with charming kindness today. 
“I’m going to go.” Eddie stepped towards the door. “I’ll go dust or something. Just let me know when you’re ready to go-” 
“-No.” Your voice echoed through the halls, bouncing off the walls, a sense of urgency that had Eddie freezing. 
You wrung your hands in front of you, anxiously. “No, just- stay in here.” 
Eddie frowned. “You just told me to go do something.” 
“I know,” You huffed. “But, just stay in here with me. Robin and Nancy won’t be ready for hours, and… and if you go down there Jonathan will try to feed and drain you, and-” 
Eddie recognized the ramble in your tone, a sliver of humanity breaking through the cracks of your cold, monstrous exterior. It was rare, you to turn soft like this- needy, but Eddie knew why you did it. He knew what you wanted. 
“Fine.” Eddie nodded, stepping into your bedroom, shutting the door carefully so the candles didn’t blow out. 
A lingering pause fell between the two of you, thick with an uncomfortable but familiar tension. Routine but an oddity all the same. 
“What do you want me to do in here, hm?” Eddie’s voice dropped, slow steps across the hardwood towards you. “Just sit here and stare at you.” 
“No,” Your chest tightened. It had been years since your heart had beat, but you swore Eddie could make it skip. “Surely, there’s something better that we could do to pass the time.” You declared, voice a little shaky with desperation to regain your control. 
“Yeah? What do you have in mind?” Eddie’s lips curled in a smirk, his face near inches from yours. “I’m at your service, Mistress.” 
Your body tingled with heat, the only warmth you craved, the only warmth you needed. You were shocked, when you first transitioned to your undead state, that this feeling didn’t go away. If anything, it grew stronger. 
“I think you know what I have in mind.” You glared at him, half heartedly. “Don’t make me beg, or I’ll make you beg later.” 
“I would never, Mistress.” Your thighs twitched, Eddie’s hands sliding over the lacy material of your dress, the swell of your hips. “I’m your faithful servant. You just tell me what you want- whatever you need.” 
“Hm,” You breathed slowly, your body closing in with him, chest to chest. Your nails raked over the etched skin of his forearms, dragging a sharp nail up his neck, to his jaw. Eddie shuddered, fingers sinking into your waist 
Your lip grazed over his, mouth parting just barely, your fangs hovering over his bottom lip teasingly. Eddie swallowed back a moan that you didn’t miss. Your eyes met his, darker now- nearly black, the way they always darkened when you got like this. Aroused and needy, entirely hungry for something. 
“You’ve got to be quiet this time.” You gave him a pointed look. “They heard last time. They’re starting to catch on.” 
“Sorry.” Eddie swallowed, nose brushing over yours. He wanted to press his hand to the back of your head, kiss you with an urgency, but he knew better. That wasn’t how you liked it. Oh no, you liked the anticipation, the adrenaline filled excitement that came with teasing. 
“Who cares if they know anyways?” Eddie muttered brainlessly, eyes glossing when they met yours. “What’s so wrong with it?” 
“It’s unnatural.” You whispered. “Complicated.” 
“What’s so complicated about it?” Eddie scoffed lightly, hand sliding up your spine, towards your zipper. “You’re turning me into a vampire anyways, right? Why’s it matter?” 
You hesitated, breath hitching and ghosting over his lip, chilling him. “It’s just- it makes things difficult now.” You stammered, fingers sliding through his hair. “I don’t want to talk about that now.” Your thumbs pressed lightly to his temples, his eyes meeting yours. 
“For now,” You purred, lips curling in a small grin. “I think you should thank me again, but this time,” Your nose brushed over his. “By letting me sit on your face. That seems fair, right? You thank me, I keep you quiet- a win-win.” 
Eddie blushed, lips spreading in a wide grin. “Yes, Mistress.”
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leviismybby · 7 months
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Sweeter than honey
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Kinktober day 1: Breeding
Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, nsfw, 18+, mdni
Levi never thought he would have children, it was something he didn't even have time to think about, always busy with his captain duties and saving humanity. But now that all of that is over, that the rumbling stopped and the titans are no longer, he can't help himself but imagine you with a belly, his child growing inside of you.
He made an excuse from work, for the first time in his life, Levi was way too eager to see you. It wasn't hard, he just told the others that his knee was hurting and that he couldn't keep on planting trees where colossal titans once stomped the ground. Gabi and Falco asked him if they should help him get home but he refused, all he wanted was to be inside of you and Levi always got what he wanted one way or another.
When he got home he found you in the kitchen, you were cooking dinner, and the way you moved around the room was so mesmerizing to him. You didn't notice him at first, too focused on making sure that the food you were making was perfect. After a few minutes, Levi clears his throat and you look his way, he is leaning against the doorway, a green flannel shirt on his body, sleeves rolled up showing his forearms.
Before you can even ask him what he was doing home so early, he hugs you from behind, his hands wrapping around your waist. His lips gently kiss the side of your neck, you shiver at his action. When he sees that you still haven't let go of the spoon, he does it for you, taking the spoon out of your hands and turning you around so you face him. "I've been thinking...." He started, his hands grabbing your hips, pulling you closer to his body.
"...I want to give you my children." Your eyes go slightly wide at his words, he has never even mentioned wanting to get married, let alone have children, so his words surprised you. "You want a... child?" You ask, making sure that you didn't hear him incorrectly and by the way, he was looking at you with that gray eye of his, you didn't. "Yes. Let me give you a child. Let me make you mine permanently." He lifts you onto the counter, you wrap your legs around his hips, and his kisses travel down to your collarbone. "You taste so fucking sweet."
A soft moan surpasses your lips, your hands rest on his shoulders. "Please, princess....I want a baby with you." His voice was harsh and very low, you can tall that he really wanted a child. You don't know what snapped inside of him but whatever it was, you loved it. Without much thought, you nod, feeling his mouth suck at your soft skin.
"That's a good girl. Let me have my way with you." His hands sneak under your shirt, squeezing your breasts, it doesn't take long before he has your shirt off of you. Levi leans in taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking eagerly. The moans you let out made him more and more turned on. You couldn't deny that he looked amazing in that shirt and jeans, it made him look so sexy. Sometimes you wonder to yourself how lucky you got to have him.
Your hands tug on his dark hair when he bites your nipple playfully, his fingers playing with the other one, you can feel his erection pressing against your clothed heat. "Fuck this. I can't wait anymore. I need to be inside of that pretty pussy." He is quick to slide the pants off of your body, gently rubbing your legs as he does so, his fingers hook on your underwear and he takes them off you. Despite missing some of his fingers, he is still as skilled with his hands as ever.
Tugging on his shirt, you earn a slight slap on your thigh. "No time for that, baby. Just let me fuck you." At his words, you move your hands down to his belt undoing it with haste, he kisses you on the lips, his lips sucking on your tongue making you moan softly. As soon as his belt is off, he spreads your legs and pulls his cock out before slamming into you hard.
You let out a gasp against his mouth as his cock penetrates your walls. "Fuck Levi!" He starts to thrust into you, hissing at the way your pussy gets used to him with ease. His hands are gripping your hips as he is fucking you roughly on the counter in the messy kitchen, your moans and lewd wet sounds echoing off the walls. Levi leaves sloppy kisses on your neck, his cock pounding you deep, it was sloppy and messy but neither of you cared. Levi was only determined to do one thing; get you pregnant.
"You feel so good. So fucking wet and warm. Fuck." He growls, your pussy clenches around his length anytime he slams back into you. It drives him crazy, you were made for him and wouldn't have it any other way. Your eyes start to roll back, your hands grabbing his shoulders, messing up his perfect green shirt. You whine when he speeds up, biting your lip so hard you might make it bleed. He feels so good inside of you. So perfect.
"You feel so good, Levi!" One of your hands grabs the nape of his neck, softly rubbing his skin. "Yeah? You like me fucking you like this?" You nod, your head throws back when you feel that warm sensation built up in your lower stomach, you won't last long and but the way Levi's cock is twitching inside of you, neither will he.
"I'll cum so fucking deep inside of you. I will get you pregnant, I promise, baby." His thrusts grow more erratic, and he grunts loudly, he can't wait to fill you up with his seed. With last few hard thrusts, he cums inside of you making you cum too. Your fingers dig into the skin of his nape, a loud moan of his name escaping your lips.
He moves his hips against yours gently, his head buried in your shoulder kissing it softly. Levi stays inside of you for a few minutes, just releasing in the feel of your warm walls. Then, he pulls out but quickly puts two fingers inside of you, making you yelp in surprise. "I don't want you to waste a single drop...fuck.."
"We are going again." Before you can protest, he picks your body up and carries you the the table, swooping everything off it, and making a mess on the floor however he doesn't care, not now. Putting you on the table, he takes your legs and puts them over his shoulder and then enters you again without struggle.
"Mhhhh Levi!" You grip the edges of the desk when he starts to move, his pace rough. "Yeah, that's it. Take it all like a good girl you are." He kisses your claf, fucking you fast and rough making the desk shake under you. Your monas are so loud, you're certain that people outside could hear you. His cock is deeper this time, this position allowed him to make you see stars, it won't take him much to make you cum but you'll try to hold on as much as you can.
The view Levi has is filthy, his cock is coated with his and your cum, he watches as his length slides in and out of you. You open your eyes looking up at him, despite the scar across his face, he will still the most handsome man you have ever laud your eyes on and you would be more than happy to have his children.
"Fuck yeah, I'll make a mommy. I'll give my my child." His grip on your legs he tighter, his pace starts to pick up. One of his hands runs down your legs and down to your stomach, he gently presses on your navel, your mouth drops open, a scream of his name leaving your lips. It was all too much, he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. He smirks and then moves his finger to your pussy, rubbing your clit gently as he pounds into you.
At some point his cock hits your cervix, your vision starts to get blurry, the mixture between pain and pleasure was perfect and just like that, you squirt all over his shaft, shivering. "Oh good fucking girl. You're so messy, baby." He slows his pace down however he is still fucking you hard, reaching the deepest parts of you. The desk under you is wet, the juices dripping from your pussy make this all so lewd.
Your hands grip his forearms, your nails digging into his flesh. Levi lifts your hips up slightly, so he can fuck you even deeper if possible. "Yes, fuck yes. I am so close. I'll fill you up. You wanna make me a daddy huh pretty girl?" You can't event respond, only whimpers are coming out of your mouth and fuck, Levi enjoys seeing you all stupid because of him.
With a hard slam of his hips, he spills deep inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He growls, the feeling of him doing this was way better than he thought. He stays in you for a little while, before pulling out, watching as his cum drips out of you.
"Oh I definitely got your pregnant now..."
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