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serenescribe · 10 months

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so this fic came about as a result of @llondonfog's absolutely heart-wrenching post about overblot!silver, along with @olivebranch311's addition about his phantom. originally i wasn't going to write this, but... olive managed to sway me :')

(there is a slight reference to @admiraltdevanto's latest fic as well, mainly about the nursery and what lilia nearly did. it was just such a good concept, i hope you don't mind me plucking that for this!)

Time passes strangely when it does not actually pass at all.

The skies outside his window are blotted dark with shadows, thick tendrils of thorns enclosing over the sky from afar. The sight never changes; it is an eternal darkness here in Diasomnia, here on Sage’s Island, and it shall remain that way for as long as Malleus, overblotted and deranged, wills it.

All Lilia does is lie on his bed, staring up at the ceiling of his canopy bed, limbs frail, powerless to do a single thing.

He had awoken from his dreams some time ago — the specifics of why, he does not know. All Lilia had done was jolt awake in a sudden frantic panic, chest heaving as he sat upright upon his bed, gloved hand clutching his chest as he struggled to get his breathing back under control. Memories of the dreams he’d gone through — lost in the throes of a younger time, when he had been running wild as the feared general of Briar Valley, weapon in hand and soldiers by his side — had flashed through his mind, reminding him with startling clarity of every wicked word he’d ever said to his son, Silver.

And it had been in that striking moment, bile rising in his throat as Lilia recalled the flashes of hurt and misery on Silver’s face, that Lilia noticed him.

Silver, standing in front of his door, head lowered, a blade resting in his hand.

Silver, who dripped with armoured ink, the Phantom of a dress curling over him, its sleeves wrapped around his steadfast shoulders, a puddle of blot forming around his heeled boots.

In an instant, Lilia was on his feet, boots slamming against the stone floor as he sprinted over to— to his son. Who was overblotting — a sight that made bile rise in his throat, fear striking through him like a thunderbolt. Lilia had wrapped his hands around his arms, trembling as his eyes flicked over Silver’s body — the smears of blot staining his cheeks, the ink that dripped from his gloved hands, sliding down the hilt of his sword. Elegant carvings were etched into his armour — dark as night, a stark contrast to the pearlescent sheen of his sweeping hair. “Silver,” Lilia whispered, voice cracking as his hands moved up, thumbing over his cold, cold cheeks. “Silver, you—”

But before he could finish, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders, beginning to push him back with such a delicate gentleness that it made his words die in his throat. Silver slowly pressed him backwards, one step at a time, flowing Phantom dancing behind him, its splotchy dress turning fully pink, until finally, the back of Lilia’s knees hit his bed, and he tumbled back onto the soft mattress.

Before Lilia could push himself back up, he felt a hand brush against his hair. “I cannot allow you to leave, Father,” Silver murmured, an echoing tinge to his words. It had been accompanied by the sound of fabric swishing, and a gurgling shriek. “The castle is not safe.”

“Let me help you,” Lilia begged, hands reaching up to curl around Silver’s wrist. Blot dribbled from his son’s touch, mixing with strands of Lilia’s hair, and Lilia knew that his own clothes must be stained with ink, but he didn't care. What possible effect could an overexposure of blot have on him anyways, with his magic dwindling?

But Silver had only shaken his head, the barest ghost of a smile gracing his ink-stained lips. “No,” he says firmly, though not unkindly. Rather, there is a reverence in his words, a lurking fire that makes Lilia’s breathing hitch from the force of it — an unfettered devotion. “You will stay here,” Silver states, no room for argument in his words — not even saying that Lilia must remain where he is, but that he will. “And if he appears, then…”

Silver pulled back, his grip on his sword resolute. Behind him, the Phantom thrashed violently, flickering between shades of bright pink and azure blue, twin blades of its own emerging from its sleeves. “If he dares to appear,” Silver hissed, “then I shall stop him. I will keep you safe.”

And sprawled out against the bed, staring up at the horrific scene before him with wide eyes, what was Lilia to do?

The Phantom lingers with Lilia at all times.

He has never heard of them doing such a thing. From all he has learnt in the past, Phantoms typically trail after their overblotter, the two of them intrinsically connected at the core. But Silver is different — as he always is, in a way. His Phantom is not the snapping, snarling, garishly violent creatures that other people’s have been. His is a tender, twirling dress, who hovers over his bed, fabric tinting pink whenever Lilia glances at it. Its sleeves flutter over him, stroking him gently. And, strangest of all, it stays with him during the few times when Silver must leave.

Here, in Malleus’ thorn-enclosed dome of magic, time does not pass. Here, Lilia has neither hunger nor thirst, the lack of sensation jarring whenever he thinks too hard about it.

The only thing he can do is drift in and out of rest, his son’s Phantom always watching over him regardless of whether Silver is there with it. At times, when Lilia is drifting off to sleep, he stirs at the sound of a keening wail, eyes fluttering open the tiniest bit to see drifting sleeves covering a crest-shaped face as the Phantom sobs, so unlike the centuries’ worth of hostile Phantoms recorded in history books.

The sight of its face never fails to make Lilia’s heart skip a beat either, the symbol familiar to him. The royal crest of his former enemies from centuries ago — a lingering proof of a heritage Silver cannot deny.

The Phantom weeps and wails whenever it thinks Lilia isn’t listening, isn’t awake. The sound always tears at his heart; this creature is a part of Silver, stoic and resolute, locked into his role as a guard by the one-track mind nature of his overblot.

So what does it mean then, to listen to its harrowing cries?

With little else to do, Lilia thinks.

He thinks about the dreams he experienced, the ones Malleus so graciously gifted to him. His mood sours whenever he remembers them, lips pressing thin at the hazy memories of Malleus whisking everyone to sleep with an utterance of his unique magic, plunging them all under his spell. Lilia had done and said so many things that he now regrets, looking back in hindsight; he had not recognised Silver under the thick of the magic, treating him with a callous cruelty he laments to the very core of his soul.

The way he’d rejected the prospect of ever having a child, a family. The way he’d repeatedly told Silver to call him anything other than Father. The way he’d revealed the truth he never wanted Silver to ever know — that of his heritage, of the absolute hatred Lilia had felt towards him far, far in the past, loathing the child and all that it stood for.

He feels sick again.

The thing is. The thing is. Back then, when he’d broken into the nursery and held the screaming child by its neck, about to kill it, Lilia hadn’t known just what it would grow to mean to him someday. There is a distinct difference between the child of the Knight of Dawn, and Silver, his son, in his mind, even if they are ultimately one and the same.

He regrets it so badly, all of it, all of what he did in his dreams. Because even though his precise memories are foggy, Lilia is certain that his little show in the nursery had been the tipping point for Silver, the exact moment where Malleus came for him again and whisked him away, swallowing him into the darkness that trailed them all throughout their dreams.

If Lilia had not done what he did, real or not, Silver would not have overblotted.

But whenever he tries to breach the subject, tries to bring it up when Silver stands by his door, Phantom lurking at his side, he gets shut down. Lilia slings his legs over the side of his bed, and says, “Silver. About what happened in my dream—” before Silver’s head snaps up, and he immediately interrupts him.

“It is of no concern to me,” Silver always says. “It does not matter. It’s unimportant.” All the different variations of the same phrase: Silver does not care about what happened, dismissing it easily and leaving Lilia to stew in a steaming heap of his own miserable guilt.

And when Lilia tries to press even further, Silver leaves his post. He strides over, resolute and steadfast as always, as a prim and proper knight should be. And then, standing in front of Lilia, he rests his hand gently on his shoulder, shushing Lilia with the tiny gesture. “Please do not concern yourself with it, Father,” Silver always says, so kind, so gentle, even in his dire state. “It does not bother me anymore.”

It’s that last word that lingers with Lilia. Anymore. That there was a point of time where it meant something awful to Silver, except now, that feeling is buried, and the both of them are worse off for it.

Lilia still desires to speak with Silver about his dream, a thousand questions lingering on his tongue.

But Silver always dismisses him. He tells him it is insignificant. He coaxes him to rest. He promises to protect him from Malleus.

It only ever makes Lilia feel worse, in the end.

“I-I should be the one protecting you, Silver! You— You should not be doing this, you should not be overblotting for my sake!” Frenetic words that burst forth from his lips cut through the air. Lilia feels his grip on the side of his bed curl tighter, fingers trembling as he clutches the sheets hard. How long has it been? Time doesn’t move, never moves; there is no concrete answer, except that it feels like an eternity and beyond.

And Lilia is sick of it. He’s sick of seeing his son dressed as a knight, of the disgusting mounds of cloying blot forming the plates of his void-dark armour. He’s sick of waking again and again and again, and always glancing over to the door to see him still there, unmoving, always remaining in the same place, his Phantom swishing around his motionless body.

Silver tilts his head the slightest bit at that, glowing eyes peering over at Lilia, the barest glint sparking within those dull pupils. “No, Father,” he utters, voice calm — and Lilia hates it, hates the lack of emotion, the way his ability to read Silver has suddenly, abruptly, been cut off. “It is my duty to protect you from him—”

“NO, IT’S NOT!”

The scream erupts through the air, bouncing off the walls, circling around the room. Lilia shakes his head, over and over and over again. He stumbles off the bed, staggers his way over to Silver, the tornado of chaotic emotions tearing through him from the inside-out finally reaching its peak. Gloved hands clasp around Silver’s shoulders, causing the knight to still in his movements from where he was beginning to move, automatically heading to push Lilia back towards the bed.

“You shouldn’t have to do this for me,” Lilia whispers, and oh, he feels something wet sliding down his cheeks. His emotions have finally collapsed, it seems. He tilts his head forward, forehead coming to rest against the cool, blot-slick armour of Silver’s torso. “You… you’re my son. You shouldn’t have to guard me like this. I can take care of myself, Silver.”

Silence.

“Please,” Lilia breathes. “Please let me help you.” He cannot stand this anymore, cooped up in this room, awake from Malleus’ throes of unending dreams purely because of his son. Lilia is only spared from going back under because it is Silver who stands in Malleus’ way, barring him from returning and weaving the threads of dreams to cloak Lilia with once more.

And for a while, there is nothing. Nothing except for the soft sound of Silver’s breathing. Lilia can feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest, faint behind the thick metal of his ink-formed chestplate — he clings to it like a lifeline, proof that he is still alive, even with the way the blot has infested him, wrapping thin tendrils of darkness around his son’s mind.

Cool hands come to press against his chest, pushing him backwards the slightest bit. Lilia stumbles, only to be cushioned by light fabric. Twisting his head around, he spies the Phantom behind him, pink and flowing, its ghostly sleeves curling around Lilia’s shoulders, tangling around his neck in a knot.

“Silver,” Lilia whispers. “Silver, please.”

Silver only smiles. “You’ve taken such good care of me all my life, Father. You’ve protected me, even though you did not need to.” And oh, Lilia feels his heart fracture at that, splintering into tiny shards; it is the closest Silver, overblotted as he is, has ever gotten to acknowledging Lilia’s wretched dreams of his war-torn past, of the revelations in the nursery. Reaching for his hands, Silver guides him back to his prison of a bed with tiny hands, the Phantom pulling him along with its entangled sleeves trapping him in place.

“Just let me protect you now,” Silver murmurs, as the Phantom pulls away, still hovering over Lilia’s curled form, little keening cries spilling from the cracks in its crest-shaped head. “Just let me repay you for everything you’ve ever done.”

Lilia raises his head. His eyes flit to Silver, who leans down at his side, still so tranquil, as though he truly is at peace with the idea of serving Lilia like this — a shift in their dynamic that chills his blood. His eyes flit to the Phantom, at his other side, still burbling little noises, dress pink as a rose, basking in his presence.

His eyes flick to the opening before him, the gap between the two of them — the straight path ahead of him to the unguarded door.

And before he can even stop to think, Lilia is off.

In a flash, he’s sprinting over to the bedroom door. His gloved hand wrenches the doorknob, twisting it and flinging the door wide open with a loud SLAM! Lilia sucks in a breath, hand brushing against the jamb of the door before he rushes out into the dark hallway, thick, twisting throngs of thorns creeping all over the walls, eerie in the dim glow of green-lit scones.

“MALLEUS!” Lilia screams, lungs aching as he calls for the perpetrator of this entire bloody mess, and the one person Silver is guarding him from. His lips wrench into a snarl as he moves forward, steps hurried, trying to put a distance between him and his son; Lilia’s heart throbs in agony at the thought of abandoning him, of upsetting him, but he cannot stand to look upon Silver, loyal and devoted to the point of blindness, any longer.

He stumbles over thick vines, trips over slumbering bodies sprawled out all over the floor. Lilia grits his teeth, readying another screech for the blasted fae prince to appear, when strong arms seize him from behind. In an instant, Lilia is kicking, thrusting frantically, but it is to no avail. He hears the Phantom shrieking, can see droplets of blot fly through the air, can hear a frenzied swishing of fabric.

“Please,” he begs Silver as he feels himself getting dragged backwards, back to his room. “Please, Silver, you have to let me go. Let me talk to Malleus, let me handle this.”

But Silver does not budge, never budges, pulling him back through the open door and back to that forsaken bed. The Phantom shuts the door as Silver presses him against the mattress, face consumed by worry as his hands brush all over Lilia’s body, checking for any injuries with a featherlight touch. “You will stay,” Silver insists again, words that Lilia has heard so many times that he has long since lost count. “I can protect you here. I will protect you here, from him. So… please, Father. Please don’t go.”

Silver’s voice warbles with the plea, a vulnerability exposed in those shaking words. His hands grip Lilia tightly, as though terrified to let go.

And what can Lilia do but lie there, squeezing his eyes shut so he no longer has to see the absolute agony and betrayal swirling about in those auroral eyes, once beautiful but now so dull?

It’s awful. It’s loving. It’s a sickening caricature of devotion. Silver’s mind remains fully focused on one thing, and one thing only—

And Lilia hates it, all of it.

#my writing tag #tumblr drabbles tag #twst #twisted wonderland #twst spoilers #twisted wonderland spoilers #twst ch7 #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #twst writing #twst fanfiction #i originally wanted to write more than just this but 1) fell sick 2) this got out of hand (became longer than i anticipated)#which is kinda par for the course w ell serenescribe #blows a kiss at the people i've tagged. i hope yall enjoy #personal writing

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all-of-my-yesterdays · 1 year

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Sci: It will heal but it will probably Scar. Epic: Cross?! What happened? Cross: Nothing unexpected Sire... Epic: You were whipped. I was barely injured. Cross: But you were injured... My duty is to keep you safe and I failed sire. Drabble below

Cross unsummoned his weapon, sighing as he looked at his worried charged. Epic clearly was not handling his punishment as well as he should have. As a guardian, he had failed is sole purpose by allowing his charge to be injured, of course there were repercussions for such missteps. Like always, he would bleed for his mistakes. "Please, sire, return to your room. I'll be with you in the morning, as I always have been." Cross said trying to get the prince to leave him to finish licking his wounds and prepare for tomorrow. Epic frowned, but did not want to cause his guardian anymore stress. He glanced at the bloodied bandages and felt his blood boil. Who decided that Cross deserved a lashing for Epic's mistake? Cross was HIS to command. The oaths were clear, Cross was HIS until the day he died. No one had the right to punish what was his. Unfortunately, what happened has happened and he could only move forward in ensuring that no one else decided his guardian's fate. ******** When Epic awoke, like always, Cross was standing guard by the door. The other did not look like anything was out of place. He didn't even flinch as he shifted to acknowledge the fact his charge was awake. No one would have been able to tell that underneath all that bulky clothing were fresh, still slowly oozing, wounds that throbbed with the other's soul beat. Epic gave the other a small smile, before getting out of bed and into his clothing. The guardian waited patiently before approaching. "Sire," Cross called softly, pulling a hidden blade from off his person and holding it out to the prince. The blade felt heavy in Epic's hands. The leather wrapping on the hilt soft and well worn. It may have been an older blade, but it was clearly well cared for. The steel glinted in the morning light and the edge razor sharp that it nicked the tip of his finger as Epic delicately dragged his finger over it. "I will show you how to use it." Cross's voice cut through Epic's marveling. "B-but, you said you'd never train me...." The confusion was evident in Epic's voice. "I did, but last night I had failed to protect you, sire. I realized I may not always be able to either." The last statement left a bitter taste in his mouth as he admitted his possible short comings. "Never again. I will make sure you will be able to defend yourself." "Oh..." Epic clutched the hidden blade. "Wait.. Where did you get this blade? I thought guardians only had one?" "That was my training blade, sire, I will get you a proper one commissioned as soon as possible, but it is important we begin training before it's completed... No one will have to know you have this." Epic nodded in understanding, and attempted to strap the blade to his forearm. The untrained hands fumbled and dropped the blade. Cross let out quiet "heh" and bent over to pick it up. He took his charge's arm into his hands. "Here, let me." Cross muttered, expertly attaching the blade to Epic's arm. The prince's breath caught as he realized just how close he was to his guardian's face. The soft feeling of air brushing against his face with each exhale left Epic lightly flushing purple. Cross was too close for comfort. When Cross finally pulled back, satisfied with how the blade was affixed to Epic's arm, the prince let out a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding. Epic looked at his arm, the leather hidden beneath the usual layers he wore. He shifted his hand in a way that he had seen Cross do many times. The blade silently slid free, catching on the sleeve and slicing it. Cross smirked as he looked at the other's clumsy handling before schooling his face. "Careful sire... You wouldn't want to lose a finger." He said, voice and expression neutral. Epic's eyes narrowed as he stared at the stoic guard. Was Cross making fun of him? If he was, at least it meant that he was still in the guardian's good graces. Perhaps it meant that training may not be as painful as he expected it to be. Epic belongs to yugogeer012 Cross belongs to jakei95 Sci belongs to TalkingSoup

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saiibeo · 1 year

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"Shut up!" // can't remember if I sent this one in already or not so HERE / @poeticphoenix send "shut up!" for sender to push reciever against a wall and kiss them to make them shut up. status: still accepting I'll never mind someone shutting this dork up ! !

☠ ⟼ awareness for their rambling had long been thrown to the wind ages ago, but if they had realized just how long they had been going off about their new theoretical idea for the pipboy then they might have felt genuinely bad for the poor mercenary that caught the bulk of their excitement as they poured all of their thoughts out. it was usually him if it wasn't the poor general who had to deal with it and once they started they rarely ever noticed that they might have been going way too far.

❝ yeah, sure, it might be useless most of the time, but i bet if that thing could detect your heart rate it would come in handy at some point. your heart rate shifting can indicate plenty of things. the only problem would be actually finding a way to make it read a pulse considering you'd have to twist the device in order to- ❞ they should've expected that he would have enough of it. at least, they were certain that must have been what had sprung him into action in the first place. the moment he began approaching them they froze in place, confused by the sudden movement.

corvus knew he'd never hurt them. even when they felt him grab their arms and pin them against the wall at either side of their head he still had their full trust. yet, it didn't keep the bewildered look out of their dual-colored eyes as everything moved far too quickly for them to process. had that very idea they were going on about come to fruition he would have been up to tell how fast and heavy he had caused their heart to beat in their chest. especially when they finally felt his lips roughly moving against their own. they couldn't help how quickly they responded to it, far too eagerly than they'd ever like to admit.

they let out a pleased hum against him as they mindlessly tried moving their arms against his grip in an attempt to pull him closer. and when he finally moved away, they let out a disappointed huff.

❝ i'll uh... i'll stay quiet if you do that again. ❞

#☠⟼ꜰɪʟᴇ: ❛ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴀᴅɪᴏ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ❜ | fallout #☠⟼ꜰɪʟᴇ: ❛ɪ'ᴠᴇ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ❜ / poeticphoenix | genesis #poeticphoenix #// I offer you Corvus bargaining for more-#// this one also became way longer than I anticipated because I love them don't mIND ME

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saviourofzaun · 1 year

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Munday questions: Negativity is entirely too easy so... what's something you LIKE about writing specifically here on tumblr?

SHIMMER INQUIRY | @independentzaun

I have been on Tumblr since the beginning of time (I'm heavily exaggerating this). I started writing on here when I was sixteen. My first fandom was the Attack on Titan fandom. It started off lovely: I made many friends, and even kept some of them around in my inner circle. I have a very warm heart towards this website. I was able to grow into someone I wanted to be, I got to better my English on here, again, made lifelong friends and found my identity. Not only that, Tumblr was my escape for the rough patches of my life. So, in a way, I like this website, due to sentimental reasoning.

Besides the sentimental connection, I really like the aspect of making your own blogs. Having serious threads and crack threads happen simultaneously at the same time, the annoyance towards those annoying bots and collectively bitching about the format changing on this website. But overall, I think it is the people. Don't get me wrong: there are fuckers out there, definitely. But most people I have met, were wonderful. I could relate with some, if not with most of them. This website has its own communities, that somehow intertwine with one another. It feels like one big, fucked up, mentally ill family, here to share their twisted desires for their favourite characters, shows, and literature. To me, this is the place where the 'outcast' can be themselves, and that on its own is already heartwarming and beautiful.

#(this became longer than I anticipated on).#(I now see why Silco is my muse).#(Talks too damn much).#》 𝙄’𝙑𝙀 𝙁𝙍𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝙃𝙀𝙍… 𝘾𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙄𝘿𝙇𝙔 ⎯ (𝙤𝙤𝙘).#zaunrising

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lunaxriax · 1 year

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Who's your favourite muse and why?

Oof. That's certainly a question to make one think. But thank you for the intriguing question!

I mean, don't get me wrong. There's not a muse that is my least favorite one or one that I dislike. I adore all of them equally. Granted, some of them, ( Sky, Jinae, Silas, Yonghwa. Sky being the very first muse I've had, so yes, she might be adored the most by me. ) I've had for a very long time from my previous tumblrs, so, perhaps those might be a little higher on the list? Simply because I have had them for the longest time. As well as some of them might be a little more favored by others as well, so they do tend to get more attention than the rest. Which, in turn, creates more inspiration for them essentially. However, it isn't something that I have any issues with, of course. Some muses just click better with each other than others. It's all about finding the right people for them, finding a balance and let it flow from there on out.

There's also those that I haven't been able to use as much as I'd like to? ( Jaehwan, Yoona ) I haven't been able to get them out there and see their potential just yet. But again, that doesn't discourage me or makes me lose interest in them as a muse.

I've had 3 or 4 muses in the past, that I have deleted over a short period of time but that wasn't because I disliked them in any way, shape or form. I loved the idea behind their character and their story but honestly, they just weren't going anywhere and their potential wasn't growing, so that made it a tad more difficult to be creative and get inspiration for them to make them grow as a person. 1 of those muses was also created specifically for another mun, for a plot that we had in mind at the time. So, once that plot was over and done with, the muse didn't really serve any purpose anymore. However, I do still think of them with a sense of fondness once in a while.

With that being said, when I started RP, I always held myself to the rule that I would never have more than 4 muses. Jokes on me, huh. That rule only lasted about half a year before I got more than that. But. I never once regretted it and don't think I ever will. It's all about that diversity, you know? It gives you so much more to work with and create as you go along. Not that you cannot do that with just one muse. There's always endless possibilities, whether it be 1 muse or 10. I had as much fun with it all when I still had only one muse.

I hope this answers your question and settles your curiosity.

And thank you, once again, for letting me delve into the mysterious workings of the mind.

#( OOC )#anon #This... became longer than I had anticipated #Thank you!

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chatsukimi · 11 days

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ᴘᴀɪɴᴛ & ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ

featuring: needy!gojosatoru, childhoodfriend!gojosatoru. precious. fluff!, minute jealousy synopsis: you put makeup on your childhood best friend. you learn that he is more than you anticipated. masterlist

you think you know everything about gojo satoru. you'd seen him as a child, two years younger than you, get scolded by his parents for sending a senile sorcerer to hospital. you were there when he first activated limitless and pummelled you accidentally in the face.

safe to say, nothing surprises you anymore. not even when he teleports into your room on the night of your date without even a knock and grabs you by the shoulders to turn you and your chair around.

"oi, stop that."

you strangle him off you. he only grins.

"sure thing." he shrugs, before bending down to inspect you more closely. "what have you got on your face?"

you put the bottle of setting spray down. "makeup."

he ruffles his tousled white hair, windblown. "ah? makeup. are you meeting someone?" he grins halfheartedly, scanning your room for any changes since you last met.

"i am."

"it's about time. i've already dated loads of people," he boasts, his eyes lingering on the powder and blush on the table.

you roll your eyes. "of course you have." you lay on the finishing touches to your face. you notice him watching.

rule one about gojo satoru, when he stares, he's interested. as you grew older, it became harder under those pitch black shades of his to detect where he's staring, but when he really wants something, it's obvious.

you lift a brush. "you want me to do makeup on you?"

he shakes his head.

rule two about satoru gojo, he never says what he's thinking.

you stand up, gesturing at the bed. "sit down." without a word, the boy listens to your command, ready to try something new.

you can't say you're unhappy to try doing makeup on him. you had some spare time left and that beautiful canvas of a face is nothing but to die for. putting makeup on him would be fun.

"i'll have to take off your glasses. may i?"

he sniffs.

rule three about gojo, he pretends to hate it when people ask to take his glasses off, but he secretly likes it. you know. it makes him feel seen, more human.

"do it yourself."

you nod.

taking his sunglasses off, you revel in the familiar ocean which faces you.

another two facts about satoru is that he can't keep still and he can't stop yapping. shaking his leg in tandem with the news from his mouth, the movement makes you shoot him a frustrated glare, distracted.

half to shut him up, the other half to make him pay attention, you grip his jaw in place. your eyes lock. soon enough, he'll probably look away to inspect some other object of interest; he's known you for years, after all. nothing new.

as you work, you think to yourself.

gojo... he's really grown up, hasn't he? in careful brushstrokes, you drag the eyeliner gently to form a wing with the tip of the pen. your eyes narrowed in concentration, you haven't noticed the shallow breath which tumbles from his mouth.

"pretty."

you blink.

gojo satoru scoots closer to you, so that his gorgeous azure eyes are inches from yours. they are widened in awe.

in all these years, you can count on one hand the number of times this genius has focused on anything longer than five-ten seconds. sure, going to jujutsu high has stretched that time out slightly, but it's nothing compared to this.

you know what rule one says about his behaviour, but you couldn't believe it.

he reaches up to brush the hair from your face. unblinking, unwavering, as though memorising everything, the outline of your nose to the singular dashes which form an eyelash, he stares at you.

it is the first step from a boy to a man.

"you are... really, really, pretty."

"says you," you say, almost pushing his hands away.

he sinks his fingers against yours, clasping them in a bone-tight grip.

"you are," he asserts. "how come i've never noticed?" he mutters, furious.

um. you turn to look the other way. the heat of his stare is scalding. nevertheless, the strongest refuses to back down.

"i should've noticed, shouldn't i? and now you're all dressed up with your make-up to meet some other guy." he pouts.

truth be told, you are silenced. this is not the gojo you recognise. in a swift move, he carries you from the vanity to the bed. the display of strength startles you.

"don't go," he whines into your shoulder, shifting you with his strong arms to nuzzle himself into your chest. you did so often when you were younger but-

"stay." he pauses, letting each syllable cascade from his beautiful lips like a bell, ringing crystal clear. "stay with me."

stay with him.

you think you know everything about gojo satoru. you remember the way he begged for a break amidst his pre-adolescent training sessions. you remember the empty hallways of the gojo estate and his silent footsteps, how they left him behind to carry the world on his shoulders.

awaiting your answer, gojo feels his heart beating out of his chest. what if you leave? what if you choose your date over him? what if-

"why?"

he stares up at you again. truly shameless.

"because i want you to." he turns stern. "or else, i'll tell your friend that you didn't actually have work that day you decided to ditch her little meet-up and i'll-"

out of nowhere, a laugh breaks out of you. he frowns.

but then, you press a soft kiss on his cheek, another one on the slope of his nose, which -truth be told- didn't need the contour you'd gracefully put on it, and the strongest sorcerer in the world relaxes to your touch.

moments like these, satoru still manages to surprise you.

"i'll stay."

"promise?" he holds up a pinkie.

"come on, satoru, we're not children anymore."

his eyebrows scrunch together so you finally relent.

"ok."

you link your pinkie to his.

"promise."

getting comfortable, you shoot a text at your friend to move the date to another day.

"i knew you'd stay. you can't stand when i throw a tantrum," he suddenly begins to mumble against your skin. your eyes widen. "i know you... better than anyone..." his eyelids are dragging under the weight of sleepiness.

perhaps you didn't know everything about satoru after all.

gojo opens his eyes, seeing you fully. "i know you can't stand me being alone."

perhaps he knew more about you than you had thought possible.

on second thoughts, you grab your phone from your bedside table, typing up a message you send without a second thought.

sorry. something came up. i might not be able to meet with you next week either. thank you for your patience, but i think i've found someone who i want to stick by forever.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #jjk #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #gojo angst #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader

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chuluoyi · 6 months

Text

drunken angel

- nanami kento x reader

shibuya? what shibuya? nanami's picking me up right now!

genre/warnings: fluff, comfort

note: they did say... delulu is solulu

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

You giggled uncontrollably as you were seated in the backseat of a cab.

"Kentooo," you gripped his necktie with this ridiculously wide grin on your face. The world was a really happy place for you now, even if it was a little spinning and you felt a bit foggy.

Nanami sighed, resigned. It wasn't typical for you to get drunk, but when you did, you became quite a handful. “Come now.”

You let out a whine, and as he himself took a seat beside you, you wrapped your arm around his waist, nuzzling your face into him.

—and clingy. You became at least thrice clingier than you usually do.

"Love you, mwah!" you slurred with literal hearts in your eyes, batting your lashes at him. Nanami maintained a deadpan expression while looking at you.

Still, he couldn't deny the thumping of his own heart when those words slipped from your sweet lips, thinking how absolutely adorable you were while at it.

He had been scheduled for a mission near Shibuya, anticipating a night of exorcising curses and returning to find you asleep in your shared apartment. But no, something seemed to have irked you tonight as you went and got wasted, and he found it out only after you called him in your drunken stupor, asking to be picked up.

Of course, he would come to get you. Finishing off those measly curses swiftly, he hurried to your location in no time at all.

You looked up at him with watery eyes, frowning at his lack of reply. “Kento, y'know that… right? Riiight?”

"I do," he gruffly replied, mindful of the taxi driver's amused chuckle. "Don't talk too much now. You're drunk."

"But I want to talk, Kento!"

Nanami shot an apologetic glance at the driver through the rearview mirror, and adjusted your position so that you could rest your head more comfortably on his shoulder.

"I love your smile," you sighed against the soft fabric of his suit. "You look most handsome when you do..."

“Hmm?" Nanami watched you, feeling his face getting warmer despite himself. Okay, you were a clingy drunk, but you were sweet.

"And I love... how considerate you are..."

"Mm-hm."

"But... I just wish... you would take care of yourself more."

Your words caught him off guard. "I already do, love."

"You don't," you spat petulantly, your gaze dropping with dejection.

"How so?"

You were no longer bubbly—you looked like you had been awake for three days straight and it finally caught up to you, as you finally succumbed to exhaustion. You had the appearance of a kicked puppy and Nanami swore you were the cutest girl he knew while being drunk.

"You're always rushing headfirst into danger. You'd do anything for kids. Especially that… Itadowi kid!" you pointed out with a deep crease on your forehead, clearly dissatisfied.

It wasn’t the first time. Nanami knew better—he didn’t miss the worry in your eyes as you saw him off, and the evident relief on your face as you hugged him whenever he came back. It was just that you didn’t voice it as much.

“I’m just… worried that…” you mumbled with a pout, totally heartbroken, “one day… you might…”

And the fact that you still felt like that even in your half-conscious state… his heart broke a little inside.

He waited for you to continue with somewhat of a bated breath, when suddenly you leaned back on the seat and pressed your eyes together, wincing, “Ah… my head’s spinnin’”

Nanami’s face flashed with surprise and then understanding as he clasped your hand in reassurance. “Soon. We’ll arrive at our place soon. You’re going to bed then, okay?”

Even when he knew that getting drunk warranted your current state, it still made something inside him churn with concern. Nanami never liked seeing you in any kind of discomfort, no matter how trivial it was.

Upon returning to your place, Nanami took charge. He helped you change into your sleepwear, and gently removed your makeup as best as he could (he confused cleanser with micellar water). Even as your vision swayed and blurred, you recognized the way he lifted you and carried you to the bed, carefully tucking you in to ensure you were settled in as comfortably as possible.

You had this dopey smile on your face as soon as he slipped beside you in his own pajamas, blearily looking at him.

“Kento, you’re…” you whispered, still under the alcohol’s influence and yet sounded so incredibly sincere. “You’re s’good to me…”

Gods, so endearing, Nanami thought to himself. It felt nice to hear you say that, but more than that, you were completely vulnerable, trusting him entirely with your essence, and you were his—his cherished angel.

“Don’t go…” you added, the smile vanished into a sad frown. “Don’t ever leave me…”

"I won't," he replied firmly, cupping your cheeks and pressing his lips on your temple. "I'm not going anywhere, yeah? You have nothing to worry about."

It was never in him to to say much, but when he did, he meant every word of it.

“Mmm, but…”

"Sleep now, love," he muttered, enveloping you in his embrace. He pulled the covers around both of you. Nestled in his sturdy arms, you fit perfectly. His hands rubbed up and down your spine, and you sighed.

“Mmm, wuv you so, so much,” you slurred for the nth time tonight, eyes closing and a step away from going to dreamland.

In that moment, Nanami made a silent vow to do whatever it took to ensure you remained safe and happy like this always.

You were the reason—the only person for whom he would set the world ablaze, even at his own expense.

Ah, but he wouldn’t let that happen now, would he? How was he supposed to put a ring on your finger if he was gone?

“I love you too… my dearest.”

. . .

and you thought then, that you just had the most beautiful dream—one where you were right where he was.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami #kento nanami x you #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff

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munsonsmixtapes · 14 days

Text

I Can Help With That

rockstar!Eddie x bestie!fem!virgin!reader

summary: Eddie catches you reading fanfiction about him and decides to let your experience the real thing

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) fingering, oral (f receiving)

not proofread!

It wasn’t a secret that you had a huge crush on your best friend Eddie. You had been in love with him since you were kids and everyone knew. Well, everyone except Eddie, but he wasn’t exactly the most observant so you couldn’t blame him.

And you didn’t want him to know anyway. That was something you were going totally take to your grave. The whole thing was just so embarrassing for you and he definitely wasn’t the commitment kind of guy anyway. He usually just fucked women and let them leave, not wanting any attachment to them.

You supposed you couldn’t blame him since he was always traveling and didn’t have time for a relationship. And hey, the guy was only human. What was he supposed to do? Be surrounded by a bunch of beautiful women and not sleep with them when they offered?

You honestly weren’t sure how you came across it. You were just browsing the internet, looking to read about someone else when his name popped up. You were curious to say the least. You had no idea that people even wrote about Eddie in that way and thought it was hilarious, so obviously, you had to read it.

Then it got to the point where you were reading it every day, trying to find the best one to show him. What started out as a joke actually became not as much when you were actually enjoying what you were reading. You started imagining what it would have been like to actually be with him and it was getting out of hand.

You sat at your computer, another fanfiction pulled up and this one was different from the others. It wasn’t no longer soft and sweet. It was dirty. It was sexual with everything described on the page. You had read that kind of stuff before, but not about Eddie. Not about your best friend.

You were really getting into when you heard the door to your room open. You quickly minimized the page and turned to Eddie who looked almost unreal like always. With his leather jacket over his white t-shirt which was tucked into a pair of very ripped jeans that gave you a perfect view of his perfect thighs that you desperately wanted to get your hands on.

“What were you doing?” He asked, suspicious and you just put on a smile, trying to play it off.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, but Eddie just made a beeline for you. He spun your chair around and moved his hand to the mouse but you got there quicker, closing out the page completely.

“Oh, you silly girl,” he laughed. “You seemed to have forgotten that I can see your browser history.” He reached for the mouse and you grabbed it, holding it out of his reach as you rolled your chair away, the back of it eventually hitting the wall.

Eddie stepped over to you, resting his hands on the arm rests as he leaned so close to you that you could smell his breath. He looked like he was leaning in and you closed your eyes in anticipation only to open them and find Eddie at the computer, opening the last tab you had opened. You rolled your chair over, accepting defeat as you covered your face in embarrassment.

Eddie was a little shocked when he opened the page, but honestly wasn’t surprised. You read smut all the time. But wait a minute, was that his name? There it was again! You were reading smut about him? Since when?

“Why are you reading fanfiction about me?” The question wasn’t accusatory, more curious than anything.

“I was going to read about someone else, but then I saw your name and got curious. And then I was so determined to find one to read to you, but none of them seemed good enough.” Eddie knew he should’ve been weirded out, but he honestly just thought it was funny.

“So you’ve read these before?” He turned his face back towards the screen to read a little more.

“Yes,” you nodded. “But none like this, though.”

“Right,” he winked. “Of course not. But you like these though, huh?”

“I mean, I don’t know.” You did. Maybe a little too much.

“Do they get you hot?” His question caught you off guard, making you blush.

“What?”

“I bet they make you wet, huh?” How did he know that? It was as if he was psychic.

“Well-”

“Relax, babe. I’m just kidding.” You let out a sigh of relief. You’d die of embarrassment if he had actually been asking you that.

“Oh.”

“Unless they do actually make you wet.” You were so embarrassed that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“Um, maybe a little.” He just chuckled and leaned forward so his lips were right by your ear.

“Sweetheart, if you wanted to do this kind of stuff with me, all you had to do was ask.” His tone was teasing, but there was a hint of truth to his words.

“Really?” You didn’t quite believe him.

“Sure. Why read it when you have the real thing right here?”

“Eddie, this isn’t funny. If you’re going to make fun of me, I’d rather you just leave.”

“I’m not making fun of you. I’d love to give you the real thing if you’d let me.” He was being serious. He was actually offering to have sex with you and actually seemed enthusiastic about it. Was this all just some very real dream you had entered?

“You would?”

“If you want to.”

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. “I’ve just-I’ve never done anything before,” you reminded him and he just nodded.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to.” He stood up, but you grabbed his hand, preventing him from leaving.

“Please fuck me!” Your words came out much more needy than you intended and Eddie just looked at you with wide eyes before a smile broke out on his face.

“As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” you nodded.

“And you can back out at any point.”

“I know.” He bent over the chair, his hands gripping the arm rests again. His face was so close to yours that you could make out every single detail. God, he was beautiful.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered and you nodded.

“Yes,” you responded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Eddie reached up and pulled your lip from your teeth with his thumb and let it settle back into place before, leaning in, pressing a featherlight peck to your lips before pulling away.

“What was that?”

“Relax,” he laughed. “I’m just warming you up.” He leaned in again and pressed another peck to your lips. Another. Another until he slotted his lips between yours, capturing them in the softest, sweetest kiss.

Assuming that he was uncomfortable leaning over like that, you stood up from the chair and wrapped your arms around his neck before going in for another kiss. It was like none you had ever experienced before. It was like he put full thought into each one, trying to figure out what you liked and what you didn’t.

His arms wrapped around your waist as his tongue licked along the seam of your lips. You opened up and he slid his tongue inside, letting it swirl around yours. It felt so good and you were surprised that you were already aroused when he hadn’t even done anything.

A sound that was foreign to you escaped your mouth and you pulled away, bringing your hand up to your lips to cover them in embarrassment. Eddie just laughed and pulled your hand away.

“There’s not need to be embarrassed, sweetheart,” he assured you. “Make as much noise as you want. In fact, I’d prefer it.” When you still looked unsure, he continued. “I’m serious,” he pecked your lips once more. “Be as loud as you want. There’s no such thing as being too loud.”

“So, you want me to make the noise again?”

“I’d actually prefer it.” With that, Eddie’s lips were on yours again and he took no time to stick his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around yours. You didn’t hold back that time, letting the moan fully escape your lips and felt Eddie’s boner against you as he pulled you closer.

His hands traveled down your back and slowly moved up your hoodie as he tested the waters to see if it was okay. Once you didn’t say anything, his hands moved up even more to your bra that he realized wasn’t there. The idea of you not wearing one made him even more hard and he decided that he needed to see your tits for himself.

He slowly lifted the bottom of your hoodie and you lifted your arms up so he had so trouble removing it. He let out a gasp as your hoodie hit the floor as he took in your naked upper half. He had really been missing out. God, you were so fucking perfect.

“Christ. You’ve been hiding these from me all this time?” He reached up to touch them, taking them in his hands before giving them a squeeze.

“Well, it’s not exactly normal to show your best friend your tits, is it?”

“And yet, here we are,” he smirked.

“Eddie, our friendship has never been normal.”

“That’s true. But seriously, you’re so fucking hot.”

“I know,” you nodded and it made him even more hard knowing that you were so confident in yourself. Soon, his lips were back on yours again, this time more rough as he took what he wanted from you.

His thumbs moved your nipples in a circular motion and you let out a moan at the foreign feeling.

“Feels so good, Eds,” you told him and he continued, wanting to hear more of those pretty sounds fall from your lips. His lips moved to your neck as he slowly laid you down on the bed, removing his jacket and shirt as he did so.

He attached his lips to yours once again, this kiss slow and sloven, as if he had all the time in the world, and you supposed he did. He brought your bottom lip between his and gave it a little suck, causing you to let out a whimper and you to get even more wet. Once he realized you liked it, he did it again, harder that time before taking it between his teeth and biting down gently.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “More.” He bit down even harder and you let out your loudest moan. As he bit and sucked your lip, his hand traveled down to your sweatpants. He slowly stuck his hand down the front of them, on the hunt for your pussy.

Once he found it, Eddie’s fingers lightly grazed it, warming you up for the main event. He slowly stuck two fingers inside of you and your back arched in pleasure, your eyes closing tight.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, the only sounds that could be heard were your moans and the squelching of your slick as he moved his fingers in and out of your cunt. You were already experiencing more pleasure than you ever had and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

“You like that, hon?” He asked as he pumped a little faster.

“So good, don’t stop.” He hooked his finger and found just the right spot, causing your legs to stretch out at the pleasure.

“Oh my god, Eddie, I think I’m gonna-”

Just as you said the words, you reached your first climax, screaming his name as you did so. Eddie removed his fingers from you and you sat up just in time to watch him slowly lick your slick from his fingers.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Taste so good, sweetheart.”

“You can have another,” you told him, your confidence building.

“You let me finger you and now you’re going to let me eat you out? Well, sugar. It must just be my lucky day.” Eddie lowered himself onto his knees on the floor at the edge of the bed and grabbed you by the ankles, pulling you with him.

With your permission, he pulled down your pants and let out a dramatic gasp at the wet patch on your underwear. He then removed those as well and spread your legs, licking his lips at the sight of your sopping wet cunt.

“You did all of this for me?” He gasped. “Sugar, you shouldn’t have.” He draped a leg over each shoulder and pressed open mouthed kisses to your thighs, not wanting them to feel left out before he inhaled your scent, desperate for a taste. “You look good enough to eat and I’m starving.”

Eddie let his nose brush your cunt as he dove in and you let out a gasp, gripping the comforter underneath you as you got used to the foreign feeling. He then slowly licked a stripe from your slit to your clit, eliciting a whine from you.

“Oh, my god,” you moaned and Eddie pulled away for a second, just so he could speak to you.

“Taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he groaned his voice all raspy, making you even more wet. “Swear I could do this all day.” He went in for more and licked and sucked as your back arched in pleasure, his fingers digging into your thighs as he lapped up every single bit of your slick.

His teeth grazed just the right spot and you swore that your vision went hazy at the pure euphoria you were experiencing. Was it always like that or was Eddie just that good? You were pretty sure it was the latter.

Your thighs pressed against his head as Eddie stuck his tongue fully inside you and your hands moved to his hair as you reached yet another orgasm, but he wasn’t done just yet.

His tongue swirled around your cunt and you yanked on his hair in reaction to the feeling. You hadn’t experienced anything like it and were sure that you definitely wanted him to do it again. It was too good to just pretend like it didn’t happen.

“Fuck,” you whined. “Right there.” He hit just the right spot to make a mewl fall from your lips and you fell back onto the mattress as you came down from your climax. Eddie gave your cunt one last lick before pulling his face away, the entire thing soaked in your slick, but he didn’t care. He’d be happy to lick it all up just to get another taste of you.

“God, could eat you for hours, baby. You taste heavenly.”

“Need your cock,” you said through labored breaths and Eddie was surprised. He thought you’d need a little break before you were ready.

“Baby, we just-”

“Eddie,” you said through grit teeth. “I need you now.”

“Alright, alright,” he pulled a condom from his wallet and quickly removed his jeans and underwear before rolling the thing onto his cock. He then lined himself up with your cunt and slowly inserted himself, both of you letting out moans at the sensation.

Eddie slowly thrusted into you since it was your first time and as good as it felt, you needed more. He wasn’t moving fast or harder enough.

“Harder,” you told him and he kept going slow, unsure of that was the right move for you. He didn’t want to hurt you, especially not on your first time.

“Are you sure?”

“Very fucking sure. Fuck me hard.” With that, Eddie pounded into you and you mewled in reaction.

“Oh,” you moaned. “Oh my god-fuck.”

“That’s it, honey,” Eddie responded. “Look at you, taking me so well. Look like a fucking princess underneath me.”

He continued to pound into you and the moans that left your mouth were enough to make him the hardest he had ever been. None of the other women he had fucked had been nearly as responsive to his moves as you had. You ate up every single thing and he loved that about you. That you took whatever he gave you and was nothing but grateful for it.

“Fuck, feel so good, princess,” he moaned, grabbing the onto your legs and wrapping them around his waist so he had more access to your pussy.

He thrusted and thrusted, eventually moving the fastest and hardest he could and that seemed to satisfy you. In return, Eddie was eating up all of your reactions, loving to hear your moans, desperate to have a recording of them because of how lovely they sounded.

Once you both reached your climaxes, Eddie pulled out of you and made you go pee while he disposed of the condom. He then joined you in the bathroom and the two of you got into the bed, not even bothering to put your clothes back on.

Eddie laid next to you and pulled you to him, bare skin to bare skin and pushed some your baby hairs off of your sweaty forehead. He then pressed a kiss to it and moved all the way down until he got to your lips, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

He then pressed his forehead to yours, his brown eyes boring into yours. His hand moved leisurely up and down your arm and he licked his lips before he spoke.

“What if I told you that I wanted to do that more often?”

“I’d totally let you.” If it was anything like you had just experienced, you’d let do it anytime he wanted.

“Well, what if I told you that I wanted you to be the only person that I slept with?”

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing?” What ever he was suggesting, you were down for.

“No, more like a boyfriend-girlfriend kind of thing.”

“I’d love that.” You rolled on top of Eddie and peppered his face in kisses while he let out numerous giggles. You then pulled him in for a kiss that left him breathless to solidify your relationship status. The first of many that night and for the rest of your lives.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #rockstar!eddie x you #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #rockstar!eddie munson #virgin!reader #rockstar!eddie x virgin!reader

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meiieiri · 4 months

Text

𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 [geto suguru]

synopsis: suguru geto upped and left that day without a moment’s notice and he took everything with him — your heart, your soul — but as you look at the positive pregnancy test in your hand, you realize that he did in fact leave one thing behind.

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, angst, explicit sex.

a/n: i know, i know. i should be writing WE but this concept has been in my head far longer than WE and i just need to get it out there or else, i think i’m gonna go insane. if anyone wants to know the plot of this would have been fic, feel free to let me know lmao, of course it still involves gojo bc i can’t choose between the two of them since they’re both so baby girl—! also happy birthday to the loml, my pookie-wookie, honeybunch, suguru geto!!

It’s been a year since the happy side trip to Okinawa became a living nightmare that culminated in you, Suguru Geto, and Satoru Gojo on the brink of death and with many more scars than you could have ever imagined. The three of you had very different ideas on how to cope. Satoru spends the past year perfecting his cursed technique, often at the expense of his emotional well-being and energy but then again, after what Toji Fushiguro did to him leaving him with the trauma of being slaughtered without regard, it was only natural.

You and Suguru on the other hand retreated into yourselves; it was hard to believe that just a year before the two of you were a normal teenage couple who enjoyed walking the trendy streets of Shibuya in the weekend sunshine without a care in the world, whose only real problem is to decide where the two of you were gonna have your weekly dates.

Now, things were different. Rainclouds have gathered effectively blocking out the sun. As you sat on the desk reading through your textbook on reverse cursed technique, you glance at Suguru from time to time and you aren’t the least bit surprised to see him sitting by the dorm room’s windowsill, staring at the garden with an empty gaze.

You’ve had enough of this. This eternal state of limbo was tearing you and Suguru apart.

Slowly, you stand up from the desk, softly padding across the wooden floor to where your boyfriend is. It was the middle of the night, last you checked, it’s already nine in the evening. You should be heading back to the women’s dorms now but you couldn’t, not when things were like this, not when Suguru’s losing himself day after day, you can’t help him, you know that, but you could be there for him seeing that’s all you can do.

But even then, it’s never enough.

Your relationship with Suguru is like a lit dynamite stick, you know that it’s only a matter of time before it also explodes in your faces. So, Suguru takes the lead, like he always does, he’s so much wiser and stronger than you in every way though he doesn’t care to admit it, though he pretends he doesn’t know why you’re so dependent on him.

“I think we should break up.”

He says that while holding your hand. You saw this coming but just how long did you anticipate that the love of your life would eventually up and leave you? You squeeze his hand with every ounce of the grief you are feeling hoping it would transcend the confines of your skin and it would reach his heart. “Is that what you really want?”

“No.”

He stands up to meet your gaze, the throw blanket falling to the floor as he does. He leans in closer, his hand cupping your cheek with such tenderness and heartache that you feel your heart rise to your throat. Suguru is normally so gentle like a shower of midnight rain, but he kisses you like this is the last — it probably is. Lost in him, your hands trail over his chest, and he deepens the kiss hoping that you’d also understand that he doesn’t really want to leave but he has to. He can’t bear to drag you into his mess.

He could never do that to you.

You respond with a soft moan when Suguru slowly lifts your shirt over your head. He stares at your plump breasts for a moment, covered only by a thin lace-like material, before deciding that looking at you wasn’t enough. He has to take you, ravish you, fondle you, kiss you. Anything to let you know that he’s not doing this because he’s fallen out of love with you.

“Don’t leave,” you plead in between his soft kisses to your breasts, tears slipping from your eyes as he removes your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders which he was now kissing up to the crook of your neck. How could your hearts be so full yet so empty at the same time?

None of what happened should have caused this much heartache between the two of you. In fact, it should have made you rely on each more, right? It should have strengthened you not destroy everything you had: each other, the future you planned together.

Suguru doesn’t answer as he nips at your neck, sucking on the delicate flesh, as your forms gracefully fall on the bed, he stares at you with such love, such devotion, and you wonder why this should be the last time. His gaze falls to your vulnerable form, his cock hardening at the sight of your clothed pussy getting wet just from that. He grinds against you, sighing at the way you buck your hips to meet his wanting more of him. If this was to be the last time, then, you want to make it count.

“Suguru, I’m yours.” That’s all he needs to hear and he removes your underwear, kissing down your leg as he slips it off of you. He tosses it onto his nightstand, and he leans towards it to grab a condom from his drawer. You catch his hand. “Don’t. I want to feel you.”

Suguru’s eyes widen at your request, his lips eliciting short huffs of breath. He’s never fucked you raw before. “Are you sure?”

You nod against his forehead. “Please. Please fuck me, Su.”

Slowly, his hand guiding his tip up and down your slit, smearing your wetness along the base of his cock before slowly pushing into you savoring the sensation of your cunt squeezing around him as he stretches you with his girth. A deep groan betrays him and his mouth hangs open as your tight walls envelop him as he bottoms out. He takes a moment to collect himself, not wanting to cum right then and there.

“S-shit. Ah, you’re so fucking tight.” He allows himself a small thrust, the tip of his cock already nudging your sensitive spot, having memorized you after many desperate nights of lovemaking. His fingers grip the soft skin of your hips as he pulls out momentarily before pushing back in again more forcefully this time.

“S-su! Mngh—please fuck me—I love you, I love you, I love you,” you beg.

A tear slips from Suguru’s eyes, it was becoming more real now — this final goodbye. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he slowly builds up the pace of his thrusts, his cock bullying your cunt, driving himself in and out of your pussy, again and again. He brings your leg to his waist, holding it so he could angle himself better. “I love you too.”

You mewl as he pistons in and out of you, his balls slapping hard against your skin. “Sugu—ah! More—n-need more of you—“ You’re crying now, and he is too as he continues to ravage your pussy, his hand finds your other leg and he pushes your knees close to your chest, folding you into a deep mating press, slamming into your cunt.

“I’m yours. Always,” Suguru looks into your eyes amidst your desperate cries, your thighs trembling under his passionate gaze. He grunts when he feels the familiar tightening of your walls. “You’re close—fuck,” he takes this as an incentive to go faster, harder, and he fucks you in a way he never has before.

“So good—oh—“ you fall silent as he suddenly brings your hands to your clit, letting you touch yourself. You looked so beautiful like this, under him, your head thrown back against the pillows, your mouth primed in a silent ‘o’. He pants as he feels his balls tighten when your hips involuntarily buck into him as you climax. “Suguru!”

“Ah, baby…” He groans, the hot breath from his lips tickling your forehead as he rides out his high, spilling his seed into you not caring what the consequences may be. You did want this after all, and he did too. You feel full just from the sensation of his thick cum, he thrusts into you one last time, further smearing his release in your walls.

You sighed as he stays there, your weak and trembling arms coming up to embrace him. He strokes your hair, memorizing each lock, pulling out after a while. Suguru pulls you flush against his chest, the remnants of his and your release sliding down your thighs. “It’ll be okay,” Suguru catches his breath, kissing your temple. “Even without me. You’ll be okay.”

“I won’t…you know I won’t.”

“You will.” He says firmly. “I promise. You know me, baby, I never break my promises.” You feel tears well up in your eyes again and he tenderly wipes it away. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too.”

By the next morning, you already knew with the way the AC’s cold air nips at your skin without Suguru, your Suguru, there to embrace you that he’s already left.

Without a note, without a goodbye. Typical of Suguru who doesn’t want to stick around to see you cry.

You curl into yourself as sobs wrack your body, the promise ring Suguru gave you gleaming under the rays of morning sunlight.

A few years later, just as Suguru said, things did get better. You smiled as you arranged the last of the tempura into the bento box filled with soba noodles with nori and small containers of mentsuyu and wasabi. It’s amazing how much she takes after him. You look at the clock and your face pales. You’re running late, so, you head upstairs to speed things up a little. You creak open the door to see the little blessing of your life, the last gift Suguru ever gave you. She’s looking at the picture of you and Suguru which you placed in her room, and since you know it was highly unlikely she’ll ever meet your lover in this lifetime, you’ve decided you want her to know him if by his appearance alone and the stories you tell her.

“Riko? We’re gonna be late,” you gently reminded your four-year-old daughter. You shoot her a funny look when you see the haphazard way she placed her hair in a bun. She pouts as she tries to get it right again, looking at her father’s picture intently. “Sweetheart, are you trying to look like—?”

“Like papa,” she huffs cutely and you chuckle, moving to pick her up and sit her down on your lap. Kissing her cheek, you also gaze at the picture depicting a candid you and Suguru during your first year at Tokyo Jujutsu Technical College. He has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, winking at the camera as he kisses your cheek, a silent gleeful laugh on your face.

You look at her, a little confused, you gently smooth her hair before planting a kiss between her eyebrows. “And why do you want to look like papa?” Riko shyly looks away, her ears turning a little red as she blushes, a trait she inherited from you. You flick her nose, giggling. “Well?” Riko laughs at the playful gesture.

“…So you don’t cry anymore, mama.” Your heart seems to have stopped beating for a moment and a warm, tearful smile appears on your face, wrapping Riko in a bone-crushingly tender hug. “Love you…” she sinks into the warmth of your hug and you kiss the top of her head.

“I love you, Riko. So…so…much.”

At that, your little girl sighs in relief. “School?” she tilts her head and you suddenly remembered the reason you went upstairs. You had to get moving. Your eyes widened and you carry her downstairs, being careful not to jostle her too much. “My hair, mama!” she giggles at her still unruly hair and you grimace in embarrassment. Suddenly, the front door opens and Riko sees who it is, before you could grab the spare brush from your bag, she suddenly jumps out of your arms and makes a beeline for the door.

“Papa, papa!”

You turn around and though the sight pains you to this day, somehow, you’re starting to learn to live with the fact that things are always bound to change with time and that this is what Suguru would have wanted: a loving and complete family for his little girl. You wrap Riko’s bento and place it in her lunchbox before going to greet the visitor.

“Hi, babe.” He turns to meet your lips for a sweet kiss, balancing Riko in his strong arms.

“Good morning, Satoru.”

#geto x y/n #geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto suguru #geto suguru x y/n #geto x you smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #geto angst #geto x you

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padfootastic · 2 years

Note

Also i want your thoughts on this - do you think if sirius and walburga both didnt die in canon, after the war was over they would/could try to reach out and make amends? And do you think getting closure would help him heal?

ooooooh this is an interesting one (and a bit tough too)

so i know the typical answer here is ‘ehh possibly with lots of therapy on both sides + acknowledgement of their faults, unlearning etc etc’ but i don’t know if i really believe that. it’s certainly a neat solution and sirius & wally having to interact does give us a lot of comedic black family reality show potential.

but the more i think about it, the more i feel like they probably wouldn’t be able to reconcile? i mean, both of them have a lot of pride, for one. that’ll make it hard to accept any faults (+ bc sirius faced the brunt of everything by as a child, his feelings towards his family would be even more intense & righteous, i think) or give the benefit of the doubt to the other person. i also don’t think there isn’t enough trust between them by that point to take things in good faith anymore.

there’s also the question of what kind of support does sirius have. are the potters alive? is he in a relationship? does he have the security to be able to do what he *really* wants? he ran away in canon—would he have been able to do so if he hadn’t had james’ unconditional support? i think, if he’s alone in this scenario, then there’ll definitely be some attempt made at contact, whether initiated by him or not. it’ll probably be uncomfortable, awkward, not a very good idea, but i can see him being amenable to it just because there’s not a lot of options. walburga would probably also pipe down a little because the ‘blood traitor potter’ isn’t there to taint her son further so that’s one of her issues gone ykno?

if the potters are alive, though, i think sirius would be forced to take a long, hard look into his relationship with walburga. what does it provide him, does he really need it, will it fulfill anything that his other relationships don’t? and he’d probably come to the answer that no, it won’t.

i’m of the opinion that closure is overrated and u can live ur life w/o needing to have that ‘one final conversation’ where it’s all dramatic and lays all ur cards out on the table type. i’ve seen irl that it’s often far messier than that and the attempt at closure can just backfire and make things worse. i’ve also successfully forgotten about people that i’ve been super close w w/o any problems, even years down the line. no ‘what ifs’ or spiralling regrets. so i know it’s possible, and i think with the potters’ encouragement, he’ll choose to go for that option. that is, no contact at all because he’s in a good place and doesn’t need her.

(which coincidentally hits walburga’s pride super hard and makes her hurt in a way other things didn’t but that’s another topic lmao)

Send me an ask with ‘thoughts on___’

#sirius black #walburga black #welp this became way longer than i anticipated lmao #i feel like i’m just being unnecessarily rambly #sorry!!#i don’t usually think about characters/relationships w such nuance #but this made me Really Try #i mean. all of that being said—i’m sure there’s situations/universes where reconciliation is possible #i think i’ve read a few too #but i think i’ll just skew towards this opinion for now #always open to opposing views tho #i know orion is also a parent lol but i didn’t focus on him bc i don’t think/read ab him as much #which is on me #also. didn’t wanna put this in the main text lol but sirius is a scorpio #soooooo i think he’ll be able to do the cutting someone off w/o a second glance thing #as i was writing this i just kept thinking of more and more scenarios and different outcomes for them #and realised i had to stop somewhere lol #ask game #pen’s asks

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elfy-elf-imagines · 5 months

Text

Tolerate It | Thranduil

▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Human!Reader

▹ Genre: Angst

▹ Words: ~2k

▹ Summary: A political alliance makes you the new wife of the elven king Thranduil, trapping you in a gilded cage of elven craft.

▹ Notes: I couldn't get this idea out of my head.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The banquet hall of Eryn Galen was buzzing with high energy.

The lights were bright, the drinks flowing. Each guest was too deep in their cups as the band played jaunty tunes that kept spirits high. You sat at the end of the table, to the direct right of Thranduil, Legolas seated directly across from you to the king's left.

Everything was beautiful, similar to what you imagined heaven may look like. The celebration had been highly anticipated, the steward meticulously planning for months to ensure the night would be perfect.

Each guest had dressed to the nines, and you had been no exception. Silks that flowed like a languid river, braids woven throughout your hair, and glittering jewels that rivaled the stars in the sky. You’d felt quite pretty after your handmaidens finished, taking in your appearance with rapt attention.

Yet as the king - your husband - met with you, he barely paid you more than a glance. Not a single compliment or acknowledgment slipped from his lips, just the stiff offering of his arm and a cold demeanor you’d never been able to break through.

Not even the bitterness of the red wine you drank could ease the pain festering inside you. You glanced at Thranduil, his attention on his steward whispering something in his ear. Regal and commanding, you’d thought marriage to the elven king would be something out of a fairytale. Yet your story became twisted, and instead of a happy ending, you were trapped in a doomed marriage. It was like a wall separated you from him; you’d tirelessly beat against it with a hammer; Thranduil was on the other end, reinforcing the stone.

You glanced down at your dress, the pale green fabric, Thranduil’s favorite shade. Even still, you were desperate for his validation and approval, like a child tugging at their father’s sleeves. A stray hair fell in front of your face, and you pushed it behind your ear, hands ghosting over your rounded ears. Maybe if you’d been an elf and not a human, he might view you as an equal and not a consolation prize.

One hand below the table closed into a tight fist while you downed the rest of your wine in one gulp.

Legolas met your eye from across the table with an almost apologetic grin. You returned it with a tight smile you tried to make pleasant. Legolas knew all too well the neglect his father could inflict, so he often preferred the forests over the palace. There was an understanding that made your pain more bearable.

The handmaidens you brought from home and your stepson, who was older than your eldest living relatives, were all that kept you from falling into true despair.

Like clockwork, a servant filled your chalice, and you gladly drank. This wine was sweeter and less sharp than the red you were expecting. Once again, you looked towards Thranduil, no longer speaking with his steward but quietly watching the party play out. You reached out, delicately placing your hand over his, only for his to push it away, not bothering to pay you a glance.

The blatant rejection stung, always taking up too much space and time. Would Thranduil even notice if you’d stolen away into the night? If you pulled the dagger your marriage embedded in you, breaking free and leaving this miserable life behind. What might it be like to shed the weight of Thranduil’s cold disposition and an overly suspicious, judgmental, elvish kingdom? You’d be free and weightless for the first time in years.

Yet, just as soon as the fantasies came, they fizzled out with the weight of reality. You had no money of your own, no survival skills, and nowhere to go. If you returned home, your father would ship you back to Thranduil. The dark forests and the creatures that lurked within would kill you. There was nowhere to go. No freedom to be found.

You didn’t bother hiding the frown on your lips; no one in the room paid you much mind. They looked through you as if you were a phantom that clung to the residence of its former life. How was it possible to be in such a crowded room and yet still be so alone?

"How much longer do you believe this will go on for?"

At some point, Legolas had moved from across the table and was now seated to your left, watching the crowded room with thinly veiled discomfort.

" I hope for not much longer. I've never been amendable to crowds so large as this one."

Legolas laughed, the noise swallowed by the noise of the room. "And yet you are queen; should you not be used to such raucous parties?"

You tilted your glass towards him, a slight quirk on your lips.

"I could say the same about you, prince."

He nodded in silent agreement, quickly drinking from his glass, which you noticed was filled with water and not wine.

"I get to run off to the forest. How do you deal with all of this?" The smile on your face fell as your eyes dimmed, a reminder of your current standing.

"No one pays me mind. A blessing, I suppose." You attempted to laugh it off, but you couldn't keep the somberness from your tone. You were trapped in a gilded cage, a prisoner in your own home.

"Then I suppose I'll need to take more respites in the castle."

"You don't need--"

"I insist; what kind of friend would I be if I didn't check on your wellbeing."

So warm and inviting, it made you wonder how Legolas could be the son of Thranduil; he must take after his mother. You wondered, if only for a moment, how different your life might be if you'd been married to Legolas instead of his father. He was the more age appropriate option and if he didn't love you he'd at least respect you. But those thoughts were pointless; you'd been married to Thranduil and not Legolas.

"I think I'm technically your stepmother."

"But you feel more like a friend."

You didn't bother to argue, placing down your wine chalice to take a cool water drink. It was refreshing, soothing the burn the wine had created.

"Then I am glad we are friends."

Before he could respond, a member of his guard called his name. The elf enthusiastically waved him over, yelling something in elvish too slurred for you to understand.

Legolas shook his head, refusing the call, but you placed a single hand on his shoulder.

"Go, enjoy the night. I'll be fine over here."

He tried to discern if you were being dishonest but found nothing but sincerity. Just because you were miserable didn't mean he should be. With a single nod, Legolas left the table to join the group forming in the corner of the room.

Left in the chaos with no one to speak with, you picked up the chalice with wine. At some point during your conversation, Thranduil wandered off, talking with some of the higher-ranking nobles.

Thickly, you swallowed, hiding your face as you slowly drank from your glass.

When would this torment end?

---

The night dragged on at an impossibly slow speed. Your sorrow brought time to a near halt. By the time the crowd began to thin and Thranduil had escorted you back to your shared chambers, you’d forgotten how many glasses of wine you consumed. You managed to keep your composure and pride, not letting you show how light and lethargic the alcohol made you.

Now, you sat before your vanity, preparing for bed as did Thranduil. There were so many pins placed in your hair that you struggled to pull them out without ripping your hair. Your head throbbed, and your frustration was building; you just wanted sleep. A cold hand pushed yours away, tangling in your hair. With practiced and fluid movements, Thranduil began to take down your hair. He was quick and efficient, his hands in your hair almost soothing.

The action was oddly domestic, and it caused a pang of pain in your chest. If the gods had been fair enough to bless you with a husband who loved you, this would be a nightly occurrence, not a rare show of care.

“There’s too many pins in your hair.” Always critical; nothing would ever be good enough.

A beat of silence passed; did he even want you to speak?

“It was a special occasion; I wanted something different done to my hair.”

Clink. He placed the last pin on the table and stepped away from you.

“It was a bit gauche.”

Expression tight, you stared at your reflection, focused on your dark hair that tangled too quickly and your nearly pallid complexion. Gauche and graceless, the elves would never view you as their own.

“I thought it looked nice.”

His answer was to silently turn his back to you, moving to the other end of the room. The silence was maddening. Your attention never moved from your reflection, lips downturned as your eyes hardened. Pain turned to rage, pity becoming an all-consuming fire that threatened to turn all in your wake to ash.

“Why marry me?” Your tone was harsh, firmer than you could remember speaking.

Thranduil let out a sigh, seemingly annoyed at your mere presence. Normally, his disregard made you shrink, and maybe it was the wine, but it only made you straighten your back, meeting his eyes through his reflection in your mirror.

“To seal an alliance with your kingdom, you know this.” He was always condescending; he was so much older and wiser.

“I understand political marriages, but why marry me? You’ve managed political alliances without offering your hand in marriage; you even have a son to marry off. So why--” You slowly stood from your chair, turning to face him directly. “-marry me?”

“Would you have preferred to marry Legolas?”

“I’d prefer you answer my question. So I’ll ask once more: why marry me?” You strode towards him, eyes narrowed.

“To ensure an alliance with your family.”

“That is it? For no reason other than that.”

Thranduil looked down at you, his lips tight.

“Did you hope to hear differently?” He tilted his head, eyes ice cold and bitter. “Ours was a marriage of convenience, not love.”

You clenched your jaw, swallowing thickly. All of it for nothing, a marriage he knew would never succeed. He may have been content with a loveless life after the passing of his wife, but he knowingly dragged you into it. To turn your life into a void--

You wanted to scream, to yell obscenities at him, to spit all the vile venom his careless behavior filled you with. But it would do no good. An emotional breakdown wouldn’t mend your rift; there was no foundation of respect to rebuild. It was just endless nothingness. Standing at the precipice, you would simply fall into a never-ending pit.

“I see.”

A hint of shock made his eyes widen a fraction, expecting an outburst like the one you fantasized about. Humans weren’t known for patience, yet it wasn’t patience that kept you silent. It was dejection; you'd given up hope of anything better than what you had.

You dared not move, not even blink until Thranduil turned towards the door.

“I think I will ensure the keep is secured. Goodnight.”

Head turned, yet your eyes remained where he once stood; you remained silent. The door opened and quietly shut behind his retreating form. Only then did you exhale the breath you’d been holding.

The bed was plush under your body, and the comforter was like a cloud, yet you’d never felt more miserable. You turned your back to the side Thranduil would take when he returned to the chambers. Eyes shut, soothed by the darkness, you dreamed of something more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

#thranduil imagine #thranduil x reader #thranduil #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit one shot #the hobbit #lotr imagine #lotr oneshot #lotr fanfic #lord of the rings imagine #middle earth imagines #lotr #tolkien #lord of the rings #lord of the rings oneshot #mirkwood elves #lord of the rings fanfic #king thranduil

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bountydroid · 1 month

Text

Darlin' pt 4

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 5

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Slowburn romance)

Description: Reader realizes her growing feelings for her traveling companion in Filly.

Notes: Okay, so I am SO proud of this part. Please let me know what you guys think.

TW: Kinda angsty at the end.

"Find somethin' to do," Cooper says as he makes himself comfortable on a chair, watching the store across from him carefully.

I huffed and crossed my arms before looking around. "A new shirt would be nice." I thought to myself as I looked down at my mud-covered clothing.

"You got any extra caps?" I asked, leaning up against the side of his chair.

"No." He responds shortly.

I hummed in response. Just as I started to walk away I felt him grab my wrist, "Don't get into any trouble darlin'." He said, smirking, "Wouldn't want a repeat of last time. You'll scare away my target."

Embarrassment crept up into my cheeks, "I'll be good." I mumbled. I was not sure If I was telling that to myself or him. Probably both to be honest, but it seemed to satisfy him as he let go of my arm. The last thing I wanted to do was mess up this job for him. He was finally warming up to me, and the idea of ruining that ate at the back of my mind.

Filly was an interesting town. It was packed to the brim with fiends and travelers alike. I couldn't help the nervousness that settled in my stomach as I got farther and farther away from my newfound companion. I felt safe with him, safer than I have ever felt in my life. Most people would think that strange. Safe with a ghoul? I thought back to the man who called me a freak for being with the ghoul as I blushed. He thought we were together. A couple. Butterflies found their way into my stomach as I thought about the possibility. Romance was something that I never thought I would experience beyond the tattered books my brother got me from a wandering trader.

"Stop being stupid, Y/n. He doesn't want you." I thought to myself.

Without any caps, I decided to find a place to sit and lay low. I was determined to stay out of trouble, so I found a nice tree to sit up against while I watched all the people go by. I found watching all the different kinds of people walk through extremely interesting. All different types of hair colors, hairstyles, clothing, and weapons. Not to mention odd couples, siblings, and partners. All the new experiences were overwhelming. I found myself sitting there watching for longer than expected. After I had my fill, I got up from the tree and started heading back to Cooper.

"Right where I left you," I said to myself as his sitting form became clear. He had his hat covering most of his face, I assumed it was to avoid detection. The last town made it very clear that ghouls were not welcome.

As I made my over to him I saw his head tilt and his eyes peer up at me from under his hat. I smiled at him, "No trouble here."

He snorted in response as his eyes flickered over to the men wrestling each other across the way. "You might be the only one darlin'."

I leaned up against his chair again, letting some weight off of my feet. "My feet are-" I start to say before a person caught my eye. Her unique outfit and soft hair made her stand out from the rest of the crowd.

"A vaultie," Cooper responds, anticipating my question before it even forms.

"Those are real?" I gasp before leaning forward, wanting to get closer to her.

"Yeah, they are real." Cooper sighed as his hand shot back up to my arm. "Don't talk to her."

I frown but I keep quiet as I continue to watch her. He then kicked my foot gently to draw my attention back to him. "I mean it, darlin'."

"Fine," I say sighing as she disappears into the shop across the way. I felt sadness creep into my stomach as his hand dropped down to his lap and went back to fiddling with an empty Jet bottle. The butterflies from earlier returned as I thought about his touch. I bit my lip as I stared up at the sky.

"What has gotten into me?" I thought to myself.

We stayed there in silence for some time before a man and a dog came into town, making his way to the same shop the vaultie was in. I recognized him from the drawing. It was the bounty. I shifted in anticipation as he started making conversation with the vaultie at the front door.

"So now what?" I whispered, excitement laced in my voice.

"Now... you find somewhere to hide," Cooper said back. "And you don't come out till' I say so, got it?"

I frowned, confused. "Hide?"

"They ain't gonna let me just take him, darlin'." He responded, shifting in his seat as he readied for action.

The implication was clear. There was going to be another shootout. Not only was I unarmed, but I was unfamiliar with weapons altogether. Hiding was definitely the best course of action for me.

"Right," I said as I looked around before making my way behind one of the buildings.

Once I was finally out of view I heard Cooper's familiar voice, "Whilzig!" He shouted.

I peeked around the corner to see him walking up to the bounty. At this point, they were too far away for me to hear. I could tell that the people of the town now saw him for what he was as all eyes were on him, a ghoul. "That is a lot of people." I thought to myself. I was starting to worry.

"Now last night a bounty came in through all six agencies!" He shouted again.

I whipped back around and pressed myself to the building taking deep breaths as I tried to tamp down the panic in my chest. Once the first gunshot rang out I could hear the townspeople scrambling. "Maybe no one will give him any trouble?" I thought to myself. I was being naive again, but I didn't care.

"I got a thousand bottle caps for whoever kills that fucker!" I heard a woman scream out. "But you don't get shit if I kill him first."

"Shit," I whispered. I took one last deep breath before I peeked back around the building. I watched as Cooper moved in a circle, taking count of all the men lining up to fight for those caps. Our eyes met for a moment. While my eyes were filled with fear, his eyes were filled with confidence. He gave me a small smirk before continuing to circle around, waiting for someone to be brave enough to take a shot.

Once the shots started, all hell broke loose. I could hear wood breaking and bodies being thrown. Some of the ammunition even made its way through the buildings and out the other side.

In defense, I curled up in a ball on the ground. I was so worried about him that I didn't even realize that I could be shot too.

When there was a brief pause in gunfire, I fought the temptation to look out again. "Don't come out till I say so." His words echoed in my head.

As the shots started up again, I felt something pierce my arm. I fought the urge to shout in pain as tears started to run down my face. One of the men's shots went through the building and into my arm. I look down to see a nail and some wood splinters sticking out of me.

"Fuck." I whimpered as I cradled the wound trying to take deep breaths.

As I did my best to steady my breathing I heard a robotic voice say, "She said stand down ghoul."

I look around the corner to see a knight making his way towards Cooper, "Knight Titus of the Brotherhood of Steel. Stand down, or be cut down."

I couldn't hear Cooper's response, but I saw a look of disbelief and amusement on his face.

"Just do what he says, please," I whisper to myself. "Cooper." Just as I finish saying his name he lifts his gun at the girl and the knight makes a run towards her, jumping in front of her to take the bullet.

I squeeze my teary eyes together as I turn back around. If Cooper was going to be killed by this knight. I didn't want to see it.

Gunshots rang out again, this time it was just Cooper and the knight. To distract myself I looked back down at my arm, still bleeding. I had no idea what to do so I decided to pull the nail out. I took a deep breath in anticipation before giving it a good, hard yank. I couldn't help the loud cry that escaped my mouth. At the same time, I heard a body fly into some wood nearby. "It's not Cooper, it's not Cooper," I repeated over and over again as I fussed over my arm.

"Well, I'd say come up here and get me, but it's hard to walk upstairs while wearing a 12-piece cast-iron skillet set." Cooper chuckled.

Relief flooded my body when I heard his voice. The sudden sounds of bullets, explosions, and crashing filled my ears. I closed my eyes tight as I waited for it all to stop.

Eventually, I heard the knight flying overheard, clearly having lost control of his suit. It was over.

"Y/n?" I heard Cooper yell out.

I unsteadily got up on my feet and shuffled out from behind the building, still cradling my arm. "I am here."

As his eyes raked me over and stopped at my arm a look of concern washed over his face. He jogged over to take a closer look.

"I'm okay." I try and convince him as he gently touches my wound.

"Those crocodile tears suggest otherwise, sugar." Cooper responds, giving me a small smile. "Let's find you a stimpack."

I nod my head as he wraps his arm protectively around me and guides me towards the shop. He only lets go when we reach the dog, wounded and whining on the ground. He gently picks it up and brings it into the shop with us. After putting the dog down on the table, he starts to rummage through the junk in the shop.

"There's gotta be one around here somewhere." He mumbles.

Between sniffles I say, "When you find one, give it to the dog."

He lets out a small chuckle as he finally finds what he's looking for. "Well lucky for us I found two."

"And the bounty?" I ask as he makes his way towards me.

"Ah, I'll get him," Cooper says, brushing off my concerns before he quickly stabs me with the needle.

"Ouch!" I whine as he rubs my arm while shushing me.

"You are okay, Darlin'." He coos.

"The dog-" I start.

"I got the dog." Cooper interrupts before giving the dog the other stimpack, petting his head gently. A smile erupts across his face as the dog pops up, immediately feeling better. "There."

I smile wide as I watch him with the dog. "You like dogs."

He looks over at me still smiling as his eyes flicker over to my arm. The wound was healed and I am no longer cradling it, the pain completely gone. "Feelin' better?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

All the feelings I had experienced during the shootout came flooding back to me as my smile faded. I felt overwhelmed with sadness, fear, and relief. "I-" I started as tears filled my eyes.

"I was so worried about you!" I cried out as I ran towards him and wrapped my arms around him.

Faster than it took to wrap my arms around him, I felt him rip me off. He dug his fingers into my shoulders as he held me at arm's length, shaking me gently. "Don't." He said sternly.

Embarrassment washed over me as I stared down at my feet. "I-"

"Just, don't." He interrupted, sighing before releasing me. "We will wait here until nightfall and then we'll follow Whilzig's trail. See if you can find anything useful around here while we wait."

"Okay," I whispered in response before shuffling to the other end of the store. The rejection stung so deeply that I could barely focus on what I was looking at. Right when he started to warm up to me, I ruined it.

tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramateagreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay

#cooper howard #the ghoul fallout #cooper howard x reader #fallout #fallout tv series #the ghoul x reader

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romantichomicide95 · 10 months

Note

and becz i cannot get yuuji out my mind 😩 (the hand video, you know the one), pretty please smut prompt #46. no established relationship but like a childhood best friends thing?? thanks beebee !!

Yuji Itadori

drabble prompt #46: “Whoa, did you always look this hot.”

cw: 18+ uh clit teasing?(not really fingering), penetration, creampie, slight praise, hand kink ish.

notes: had to put the hand thing in somewhere, i suck at endings, this was way longer than a drabble but meh. i didn’t proofread this in any way.

You made your way to Yuji's room, your heart pounding with nerves. You both were already late as is. A stupid party you didn’t even really want to go to loomed ahead. As you stood outside his door, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heartbeat and knocked softly.

When Yuji opened the door,his eyes trailed down your body. "Woah, damn. Did you always look this hot?" He said before putting a hand over his mouth. “Shit, I meant. You look nice.” He said, shuffling awkwardly.

“Uhhh. Thanks Yuji.” You felt heat rise at his compliment, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest. Something had shifted between you recently. You’d been best friends for as long as you could remember, but the attraction you felt for him grew as you both got older. There was all these unexplored feelings, that neither of you acted on due to your history, but now was the perfect opportunity to explore these newfound feelings.

Yuji stepped aside, inviting you into his room. As he shut the door behind you, the air crackled with an electricity, and the anticipation intensified. Your eyes look at him, taking in his appearance. Has he always been this muscular? Have his eyes always been that beautiful color? Have his hands always been so god damn attractive. The way they could grip your throat while he’s got you up against-

“I mean it though.” Yuji said, snapping you from your thoughts. He takes a step forward, closing the small gap between you. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear as your eyes met. “You look really really hot.”

Before you knew it, words became irrelevant as the electricity between you grew stronger. The room suddenly felt too small, filled with this untouchable tension. The attraction between you was palpable. Without hesitating, you closed the distance between you, your lips gently meeting in a passionate kiss.

The taste of his lips was intoxicating, exactly how you’d imagined. Your bodies pressed together, wrapped up in the intensity of the moment. Without warning Yuji pushed you against the wall, his hands gripping your thighs and lifting you up against the wall so he can capture your lips more evenly.

Suddenly he pulls his face away, looking at you intently. “S-sorry. Is this-okay?”

You don’t say anything, you just nod. His puffy swollen lips looks so adorable, and his body feels warm against yours. You answer him by wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him closer. He smiles before his lips are on yours again and you tangle your hands in his hair, wrapping your legs around his waist.

You can feel the growing bulge in his trousers as his body grinds up against you, his hands softly trailing up your thighs underneath the very short dress that he swears you wore just for him.

“Fuck. I’ve wanted to do this for so long. You have no idea.” His lips trail down your neck, leaving tiny hickeys in their wake as his hands slide all the way up your dress his fingers teasing the pantie line. “Can I touch you?” He asks, a pleading look in his eye.

“Please.” You nod in response and you feel his fingers slide along your folds. You let out a soft moan as he teases your clit, lightly swiping his thumb across it before circling it, his teeth sinking into your neck.

“Yuuj?” you pants, as your fingers tug lightly at his pink locks. “I want you to fuck me.”

He whole body goes numb. He removes his lips from your neck and looks at you, his thumb and his pointer take your chin in his hands affectionately forcing you to look him in the eye. “Fuck. You’re sure?” he says and he’s unable to hide the excitement that’s creeping into his tone.

“Mhmm.” you whisper in his ear. “Please Yuuj, wanna feel your cock fill me up.”

His head spins when those words escape your lips, his cock twitches in his pants and he can feel like wet stain of precum that’s leaking into his boxers. He thinks your words alone could send him over the edge, he’s thought about this for so long. His fingers digging into the flesh of the juicy ass he’s surprised you’ve never noticed his gaze linger on. His cock sinking in between in your legs.

And that’s precisely what he does, sinks his cock into your pretty pussy, and fuck if it isn’t even better than he imagined. You’re clenching around his cock and his fingers dig into your ass as he fucks you into the wall. He’s glad everyone’s at the party because the sounds of your moans coupled with your back hitting the wall, over and over, are too loud. But he doesn’t care, not when he’s ball deep inside you, not when you’ve got pretty little whimpers escaping your lips. Not when your screaming praises.

“Your s-so big Yuuj, filling me up so good.” You try to pull at him but he grabs your hand and pushes it against the wall. “Fuccck Yuuj…fuck.” Your moans ring out and his hips thrust into you rapidly as he softly traces your thumb with his.

The juxtaposition of his soft touches and the way he’s shoving his cock deep into your cervix are enough to make you climax, hips rutting into his as you cum all over his cock.

The minute he feels the way your body shakes, and sees the way your back arches he’s cumming right there. He doesn’t even bother to pull out, he wants to fill you with his cum. Let you slide your panties back and walk into that party stuffed full of him.

He doesn’t immediately pull away. He just sits there, your legs still wrapped around him. He just looks at you, for what feels like forever. Sweat dripping down his brow, his hand still tightly grasping yours. He squeezes it once. “You really are so fucking beautiful ya know?”

#yuji itadori x reader #itadori yuji #yuji x reader #yuji x reader smut #yuji itadori smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #itadori x reader #yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji #yuuji smut #yuji smut

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hooniebaekgu · 17 days

Text

Insatiable

PAIRING : Park Sunghoon x female Reader

GENRE : smut

Warning : MDNI!! Reader is 5th member of Aespa, ft. Karina and Winter (Minjeong), size difference, cursing, use of the nickname 'angel', implied second round

Word Count : 1.5k

Yukki's Notes : this became quiet longer than what I anticipated

You're laying in your freshly washed sheets with Sunghoon. The room was dark, the lights turned off. You two were watching a movie, neither of you two was really paying attention to it.

You couldn't focus when Sunghoon's strong arms were wrapped around your waist, you sitting in his spread out legs with your back to his chest.

You had an obsession with his arms, his buff biceps and the veins on his hands. The way you could remember innumerable times his fingers were inside you.

And Sunghoon noticed, it was hard not to when your hands — tiny in comparison to his — were playing with his fingers.

Sunghoon was in love with how smaller you were in comparison to him. Your height difference makes you stand on tiptoes to kiss him.

How easy it was to manhandle you. How his cock made a bulge on your lower stomach.

He could practically hear your thoughts, how all you could think about was his fingers in you.

He knew he shouldn't, your members were right outside the door. The door which was unlocked and anyone could walk in on what he had in mind.

But the possibility of being caught had never been able to stop him, your whole relationship being proof of that.

His hand which was resting on your stomach slowly moved down, grazing over your exposed thighs due to the shorts. He was barely touching you, giving you a taste of what you could have.

He slithered his hands up, rubbing circles on your inner thigh, almost touching where you needed him.

Oh but he needed to hear you beg, he needed you to want him.

"Hoon, what are you doing?" you whispered, afraid to break the peace.

"What do you think baby?" he whispered back in your ear, teasingly nibbling at it.

His finger brushed against your core, you felt a gush of arousal when he had barely even done anything. Sunghoon always has that effect on you, always.

"B-but hoonie the others could hear us." you tried to reason, his fingers were dangerously close to your cunt. Your panties are already ruined from your arousal.

"Then you gotta be quiet, yeah?" he said, trailing kisses down your neck, softly sucking at the spot he knew made you moan. He was going to make sure you had a hard time keeping in the noises.

"You can do that for me, right angel?" he said, knowing what effect that nickname had on you.

You nodded your head, grasping his hand and pushing it to where you wanted him. You couldn't help but gasp at the feeling of his fingers pressed against your clothed clit.

"Already wet? I haven't even touched you baby." he said, sounding smug. Your panties were soaked, his fingers slowly rubbing circles on your clit through the soft material.

Your hands clamped on your mouth, always so sensitive when it came to him.

He pulled his hand away, almost immediately you whimpered at the loss of touch. He pulled off your shorts and panties, stretching your folds apart. You moaned into your hand at the feeling of the cold air brushing against your cunt.

He grazed your clit with his middle finger, touching you but barely.

"Baby, please" you said, not knowing what you wanted, but sunghoon always understands your broken language when you're desperate.

He continued to suck on the skin of your nape, knowing he wasn't supposed to leave marks. But what's the fun in that?

Knowing if he didn't give you what you wanted, you could start crying right now, he started to rub circles on your clit.

Your hand grasping his wrist, urging him to go faster.

He rubbed your clit faster, you threw your head back on his shoulder, moans muffled through the palm on your mouth. Your legs closing in on themselves, not being able to handle the pleasure. His other hand is pulling your legs apart.

You could cum just from this, and Sunghoon knows. But he isn't going to let you cum if it isn't on his fingers. So he pulls away, always a fucking tease.

"Why did you stop?" you whined out, looking back at him. Your lips pouty and eyes wide open, god you were just the cutest.

How could he say no to such a face?

"I'm sorry baby." he said, pushing his lips to yours, sharing a wet kiss. This angle was hurting his neck but he didn't care, not where he could taste your cherry lip balm.

Slipping his middle fingers in your cunt, he swallowed your moans. He gathered your arousal, coating his fingers with it. Pushing two of his fingers in you.

He moved slowly, pushing his fingers in and out, curling them and hitting that spot once in a while.

"Hoonie please, faster." you moaned, giving him doe eyes. You knew the effect you had on him.

Sunghoon cursed under his breath, plunging his fingers deeper and faster. Curling them just where you wanted him.

You threw your head back, your back arching as you bit your lip to keep the noises at bay.

Just then you both heard the sound of feet shuffling around outside the door, Sunghoon stopped moving his fingers. As much as he wanted to tease you and make you stumble over your words, he knew at the smallest suspicion, whoever was behind the door would walk in.

There was the sound of a knock, and a voice spoke up, "___? We're going out to eat, do you guys want anything?" it was Karina, always the concerned mother hen when it came to you.

Sunghoon rubbed your thighs, pulling up the sheets to cover your bottom half just in case.

"N-No, we're fine. I'll text you if we want anything." you said, biting your lip when you heard a brief moment of silence.

There was some more shuffling around and then you heard Minjeong, "Ok, have fun!"

Sunghoon suddenly curled his fingers in you, hitting the spot that made you see stars. Before you could slap a hand on your mouth, sunghoon put a hand on your mouth, pushing your head back till it rested on his chest. Your back now pressed tightly to his front.

"Be quiet, angel. Don't want them to hear you, yeah?" he said, chuckling softly.

"Hold your legs open for me baby." he said, it was more of a demand than a question. Your hands gripped the back of your knee, pushing them wide open.

Sunghoon moved his fingers in you at an insane pace, curling his fingers to rub against your sweet spot. You threw your head back, his hand still keeping a tight grip on your mouth.

You wet cunt made loud squelching sounds, sucking in his fingers.

Sunghoon let go of your mouth when he heard the front door close, resting his now free hand on your stomach.

Your legs fell open due to the pleasure you were feeling, your hands gripping his free ones.

You let out loud pornografic moans, his fingers buried in you to the knuckles. The pads of his thumb rubbing against your clit.

"You're clenching up, is my baby going to come? Make a mess all over my fingers, yeah?" he said, you frantically nodded your head. His words not really registering in your head, you couldn't hear anything past your moans and the noise your cunt was making.

"Oh my g-god, hoonie I'm gonna cum." you said arching your back. His hand gripped on your waist, trying to stop your squirming.

"Cum for me baby. Cum all over my fingers." he whispered, his fingers continuously rubbing against your sweet spot.

With a cry of his name, you fell apart on his fingers. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, as he fingered you through your high, stopping once you became too sensitive.

"You alright, angel?" he said, rubbing your thighs affectionately.

You wordlessly nodded, your brain a mush from the orgasm you've just had. Sunghoon chuckled, pecking your cheek.

"Take a nap, you must be exhausted." he said, softly pushing off of his chest. You looked at him questioningly, "What about you?" you said, looking down at his raging boner.

"I'll take care of it, it's fine." he said, trying to get up from his position. You grasped his shoulders, making him sit down. Getting on his lap, your legs on either side of him.

Bare cunt sitting directly on top of his clothed boner.

"But I want you." you said, pouting at him, faking sadness. You were insatiable, but who wouldn't be when he was so hot.

His expressions darkened, looking at you with a stoic face he said, almost as a warning, "Don't start something you can't finish, angel.”

You rolled your hips, cunt rubbing against the flimsy material of his shorts. His cock was rubbing against your clit. You wordlessly reached for a hem of his shorts.

Your eyes met his for a brief moment, before he was pulling you in an intoxicating kiss.

#enhypen #sunghoon imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon #enha smut #enha sunghoon #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon hard thoughts #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon scenarios #enha hard thoughts #enha x reader #enha scenarios #enha imagines #enhypen scenarios

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that-student-that-has-homework · 3 months

Text

Louder than Words - Portgas D. Ace

Portgas D. Ace x Reader

This is like the mushiest piece I have written. I was kinda embarrassed...but here it is. Let's give him the hugs and space he needed huh? This could also be a message to you lovelies out there too. MasterList linked at the bottom too!

Ace didn’t know what came over you, but whatever it was, he wasn’t complaining. Per se.

You’d cupped his face gently, rubbing your thumbs along his cheeks tenderly, while he just looked back at you, curious. He smiled, in hopes of easing or appeasing whatever drudge was swirling in his chest and tainting this moment, “everything alright?”

You hummed and nodded at him, not a line on your expression but the bliss that pulled at your lips, revealing your peaceful serenity to him. His breath hitched slightly as you pressed your lips to his forehead, lingering for a moment. Then a shorter peck to his nose, before nuddling it back and forth with your own. He reopened his eyes when you tilted his head, still cradled in your palms, and pressed kisses to either of his cheeks.

You pulled away enough to look him in the eyes, and he felt his heart chase after you, beating with a tenacity meant to jump ship from his chest to yours. Your eyes dropped to the last target on his face, and he felt his entire physiology twist in anticipation.

You guided his face to yours gently, holding him as though he was the most prized treasure of all the seas. If he ever said that aloud, you would agree.

Your own personal One Piece.

You guided him, and he followed eagerly, gravitating towards you naturally, and you met him somewhere in the middle, colliding in an explosion of euphoria, igniting the wiring of his entire being.

His every sense sharpened, yet by attuning himself to your every move he melded into you. He-his edges-seemed to all but disappear as he chased after you unwilling to disconnect for a moment longer than necessary. Your pull, irresistible-inevitable as he continued to dive deeper into it.

Deeper and deeper.

Closer and closer.

Chest to chest.

Heart to heart.

Until you gently guided him away, again cradling his face and rubbing sweet, sweet, tender circles into his skin, massaging your warmth into him. Your eyes again held his, and gosh you’re just so beautiful. He’s pulled out of his daze when he felt your chest struggling under his. You’re panting slightly, your breathing a little strained, and he realized that his weight on you definitely isn’t helping.

He lifted himself up just slightly-unwilling to completely part but-no longer crushing you. He couldn’t help but wonder: when had he ended up on top of you like this?

You’re gently moving his head about in your palms again, pressing another kiss to his forehead. Then another to the crown of his head and for a moment he’s so glad he showered and washed his hair yesterday.

“I’m so thankful to have you in my life,” you breathed into his skin, lips inscribing the words into his forehead, and tugging on his heart strings.

Again his head is guided by your hands and again his eyes are treated to the sight of yours. Like a rope with a knot catching onto a splinter of wood, the air caught inside his chest. Your own eyes trailed over his features, slowly, carefully, as though committing every part of him, every detail, to memory. You studied him with a sort of reverence, your awe manifesting in a choked gasp and subtle widening of the eyes.

Your hands slowly slipped from his face, and he found himself missing your touch immediately. Thankfully, he didn’t have to part with it for long.

“I am so grateful,” your fingers ghosted along his cheek moving to his lips, “that you exist,” your words tugged at that stuck knot.

“That you were born,” a warmth spread through his chest - yet he couldn’t breathe.

“That you exist in this world - and that I,” your expression became impossibly soft, “that I get to know you.”

He opened his mouth desperate to return the sentiment, but you continued gently tracing his lips as you did, “that you’re allowing me to love you like this.”

He couldn’t-

You let out a little squeak at the speed and force with which he sat the two of you up and held you. His fingers interwoven with your hair, his nose buried in your neck, his other hand pressing you into him, melding you into his body. Soon enough, even his legs came to wrap around your own, completely preventing any chance of escape.

Though to be honest, you escape to him, not from him.

Oh the things you did to him.

He might be made of fire, but his devil fruit couldn’t protect him from the way your affections effectively set fire to his very brain-his heart. His chest heaved, pressing against yours, his eyes water and his grip tightened. Tremors overtook him as he fought the urge to crush you completely into his body.

How could joy resemble a knife tearing through his chest? How could the tearing pain feel so delightful? The contradictions were enough to make his head spin and his thoughts knot up.

A gentle hand - your gentle hand slowly worked its way through his hair, patiently undoing any tangles your fingers came about, consequently undoing the intricate knotting of the net entangling his mind. The delicate trails your fingertips drew along his scalp soothed his thoughts such that each raging beastly emotion was conquered in turn. It wasn’t too long before he’d vanquished the confusion, your tender care steering him to clarity.

You were steering him towards dreamland too if he’s honest, as his consciousness began to ebb under the rhythmic flow of your fingers through the waves of his hair. It wasn’t long before it plunged completely into the ocean of unconsciousness.

// ——

When he regained consciousness you were seated beside him, reading something or another. You were really engrossed in whatever it was you were reading, so much so that you startled a little when his hand lethargically claimed your own, pulling it closer to him.

He brushed his lips on the back of it, grinning up at you with eyes that drooped with the sleep still in them. He delighted in the flustered expression you wore in response to his own affections, blinking at you slowly. You marked your page with your free hand, before closing the book to give him your undivided attention.

“How was your nap, love?” Love you called him. Love.

His eyelids closed, succumbing to the weight they seemed to carry, basking in the bliss washing over him like a gentle summer shower.

Love.

He could hear you moving about, his hold on your hand tightening as you shifted. A little groan left him as he struggled to open his eyes and mouth to speak to you. You were not helping with how your other hand came to comb his hair again, but he managed, “mmm you’re…gon’ make me fall ‘sleep ‘gain.”

“Then that means you need more sleep m’love,” m’love, not just any love, your love. Yours.

He was your love.

Yours.

He was yours. Happily so. Forever would be too. If you’d have him.

He hummed, lips weakly pushing through sleep to show you his satisfaction.

Your voice was much closer to him now, speaking from right above his head, and he fought an uphill battle trying to open his eyes to look at you. His whole body felt heavy, completely sapped of strength. Heck even his grip on your hand was as limp as ever. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was in contact with sea stone or something.

He felt you press your lips to his forehead again, gently fueling him enough to pull his lips into a drowsy, wobbly, smile.

“Get some rest love,” you spoke softly, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Stay wit mmmmm,” talking was proving to be a challenge, “c’mere.”

He threw a heavy arm over what he hoped was your waist. It probably was? Gosh he couldn’t care with the way you were giggling next to him.

“Sure thing love,” you had to be doing some kind of magic with how he felt like he was levitating despite the weight that seeped into his bones, “just let me brush my teeth first.”

He couldn’t hold you down if he wanted to with how tired he was, “mmm back soo,” he mumbled.

“Sure thing,” his lips wobbled themselves into a smile as you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead again.

He was out instantaneously. You kept your promise though; through his daze he felt you slip in and embrace him. Seems like his body knew what to do too, despite its earlier lack of cooperation, and he wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you in return before he was out again.

He woke up in your arms.

His head rested against your chest, with your arm languidly around his shoulders. Taking in a deep breath filled him with the nostalgia of the scent of home. A home that did not exist in his memories. Which meant it probably existed in his imagination then. A home that could be. A home with you.

It was the scent of home nonetheless.

He tightened his hold on your waist nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

I’m so grateful you exist.

His arms instinctively tightened.

That you were born.

His inhale was a stuttery one, his own lips and vision stuttering as well. He buried his face further into your neck, taking in your scent again. Yet all that did was push the tears out faster.

That was the opposite of what he’d expected!

Urgh. One of those hot, salty blobs ended up on your skin.

To his relief, and dismay - oddly enough - you remained unconscious. Your eyes closed and breathing consistent. Though that didn’t last long, as you shifted slightly, the arm around his shoulder worked to pull him into you, as your other one came up to play with his hair-you really liked doing that huh?

“Get it aaall,” your voice was thick with sleep, “get it all…out,” you hummed a bit, “let all that poison out.”

“Darlin’, did I wake you?” It was pathetic how his voice cracked - he hated this weakness that was welling up...again.

Just like that, your hold on him tightened, your lips pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

“I’d be upset if you didn’t,” you sounded much more awake now, “you’re one of the people I want to be there for the most.”

Unfortunately, a choked sob left him. Gosh he was so pathetic. He was a full grown man! He wasn’t supposed to be some weak crybaby! To think he used to get mad at Luffy for crying too!

Yet…

He. couldn’t. stop.

His shoulders shook, the tremors traveled his body, and a violent shiver wracked it. Yet you laid and held him and ran your fingers through his hair, kissing your favorite spot on his forehead consistently. Every kiss, every gentle brush of your loving fingers tenderly working through his hair, every tender trace of your fingertips on his scalp, brought a fresh wave of tears to follow the next. At some point he’d started clutching on to you, like you were the life-ring preventing him from drowning.

He wasn’t sure how long you two stayed like that. All he knew that in between his sniffles and his sobbing there was your voice.

“Get it all out love,” you lightly encouraged - as though he wasn’t lesser for crying like a baby.

“I’m so proud of you,” you said a few times too - as though this pathetic display wasn’t shameful.

“I love you so much,” you reaffirmed time and time again stroking his hair - as though his weakness didn’t make him less desirable.

For whatever reason he didn’t doubt a word. Despite the mental cesspool working overtime to drown him in darkness, the light of your honesty shone through. No matter how far he fell, it followed.

He wasn’t sure how long you two lay there, holding each other, and he wasn’t sure when he’d lost consciousness again. His eyes were so incredibly heavy when he woke up again though. They must be swollen from all his crying. You weren’t next to him this time, however as his senses came back to him, he could hear the sounds of a pen scratching and paper flipping.

When he sat up, he noticed a pitcher of water and a tall glass with an opaque yellow-tinted liquid and some mint leaves in it-lemonade probably-on the bedside table. He had a moment to locate you at his desk before you turned to face him, “hey there.”

“Hey,” he croaked, voice still thick from lack of use.

You put the pen down, got up, and walked towards him with a kind smile, “I made you some lemonade, and got some water,” you sat down near his legs, “gotta replace all those fluids you lost.”

That got a chuckle out of him, “your lessons with Marco are going well, huh?”

“I also have a lot of personal experience with these things,” you grinned at him.

“With crying like a baby?”

You just hummed and nodded.

“This might sound bad,” you weren’t looking at him as you confessed, “but I’m kind of…” you trailed off, shooting him a quick glance, “happy,” you shrunk, your shoulders reaching your ears, “you felt safe enough to be that vulnerable with me.”

“So, you liked seeing me cry?” He poked at you. “Should I cry more for you, doll?”

“Ace,” you groaned, your smile only growing fonder as you looked at him.

“Didn’t peg you for a masochist,” he kept teasing, “I’m not sure how I feel about this kink of yours.”

He loved the way you rolled your eyes, but revealed your teeth with how big your smile was getting. “I don’t like seeing you cry,” you corrected, “I like that you feel safe with me.”

You paused, then appended, “well safe enough to not hide your pain.”

“Hide my pain?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Crying is one way to get pain out of your body,” you twisted your body to face him more fully, voice soft as you shared your opinion, “emotional pain especially.”

“Isn’t crying just weakness?” He frowned at you.

“No?”

“It’s not?”

“Do you think I’m weak when I cry?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“But you’re a woman.”

A tired look flashed over your features momentarily, “so men aren’t allowed to cry?” You challenged, tone still as patient as ever.

“Only weak men cry,” for some reason the words sounded less convincing in your presence.

“Who says?” His gaze snapped up to meet yours and you repeated yourself, “who said?”

“Isn’t it just something that everyone knows?” His brow furrowed, scowl taking his features.

“No,” you paused as you said that, “well I guess in a sense,” you squinted at nothing, “yes… it is something that many people assume.”

“You just saw me cry like a baby,” he countered, “you don’t think I’m weak?”

“On the contrary,” he felt his eyes widen despite the weight embedded into them, “you’ve been carrying all that pain.”

An ache tormented your gentle expression, “and you choose kindness and warmth and bring joy to those you care about despite it,” you looked him in the eye again, “that isn’t something a weak person could do.”

A shiver traveled down his spine at the way your eyes studied him, softening as you opened your mouth to speak again, “kindness is the mark of the strong, Ace,” you placed your hand on top of his notably larger one, pride dripping from your voice, “and you’re so incredibly kind.”

What was with you and stealing the air from his lungs? He felt his chest constrict like he’d been punched too.

“We’re so lucky to have you in our lives,” your thumb traced circles onto the back of his hand, “we’re even luckier to be loved by you.”

He could feel that prickling in the back of his eyes he was becoming way too familiar with for his liking. “We really have to do something about that crying kink of yours,” he joked.

You scoffed, shaking your head, but you weren’t mad. “I think I’m just going to have to tell you more often how lucky I am to have you in my life.”

His heart lurched in his chest, “I think I’m the lucky one.”

“We can both be lucky.”

“Then I’m luckier.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yea huh.”

“Agree to disagree?”

“No,” he has a huge grin on his face at your scowl.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, rising from the bed with a dramatic sigh, “I’ll let you believe whatever you want to believe.”

“Oi!” He couldn’t help the chuckle that left him.

“Drink some water and your lemonade, love,” you gave him a little peck on his forehead again, “then let’s get you showered and fed.”

He caught your wrist as you moved away, “where are you going?”

“To the desk,” you blinked at him.

“What’re you up to there?”

“I’m just going through some paperwork,” he really was the luckier one of the two of you.

“Marry me,” the words flew out of his mouth before his mind could even register them in his thoughts.

You laughed, raising your left hand for him to view, “already did.”

Shoot.

“Now,” mirth still colored your expression, “you drink your lemonade while I get these papers done.”

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted you and allowed you to slip out of his grasp.

It was when he’d finally moved to lean back against the wall and grabbed the drink you’d prepared that he heard you giggle a little. Strange, given what you were working on, “see something funny?”

“No,” you singsonged, cheerfully wiggling in your seat, “it’s just my husband asked me to marry him, again, and I’m feeling very happy.”

His head clunked against the wall he rested against, heat rushing to his cheeks as a disgruntled groan left him, despite the way he was grinning, “I swear I didn’t forget.”

“I didn’t think you did, love,” you giggle some more, turning slightly to look at him, “I’m just so happy you would want to marry me, again.”

“I’d marry you again every day if I could,” he took a swig of his lemonade enjoying the way you fought and failed to keep your smile contained as it threatened to split what he could see of your face.

You turned back around and he could see that you were fighting to focus on the papers in front of you.

“How about we have another wedding on the Moby Dick?” He found himself scooching his way down the bed, his excitement uncontained. “We can get you a proper dress this time! Your own!”

He looked up thinking some more, “and I’ll wear a proper suit with a vest and a tie and everything!”

“I’m surprised you know about vests and ties,” you shot him a teasing grin.

“Hey! I took some etiquette classes as a kid!”

“You did?”

“I didn’t tell you?” He’d have to tell you more about his life before he set sail then. “Yeah back when I was in the East Blue,” it’s been a while since he left huh? “Makino-a barmaid from the village nearby-taught me manners.”

“So she’s the one that taught you about vests and ties?”

“Yeah,” oh wait a second, “we can have Thatch make us a huge cake and a feast!” Now that he was back on the original topic he had so many ideas! “Pops can officiate! Marco can be the one to bring you down the aisle! And-and-”

“You really want to have another wedding then?” You were now turned to face him completely.

“Yeah! How about it?” He scooched even closer to you. “Our first one was nice too, but we were in a hurry and I remember we had to go with whatever we had.”

“Is it bad that I liked our small, humble wedding?”

“Huh? No of course not! It was great!” Where did that come from? “I’m just saying we can have another so I can ‘marry you again.’”

“Hmm the idea of seeing you all dressed up in a three piece suit is tempting,” you hummed.

He guffawed a bit at that. “I’d probably mistake you for an angel if I saw you in a white dress.”

“Aww you wouldn’t recognize me?”

“Nah because,” he smirked, “I’d be blinded by how beautiful you’d look.”

When you hunched your shoulders to your ears and looked away a bit, his chest swirled with pride. He was getting better at this flirting with you thing!

“Maybe we shouldn’t then,” sounds of protest were leaving him before he knew it, “I don’t want to blind you.”

That had the two of you laughing.

When you calmed down, you turned back towards the work waiting for you, “there isn’t much left to do commander, so stop distracting me.”

Your distraction quickly chugged the rest of that refreshing glass of juice, and moved back to pour himself a glass of water. Something seemed to click within his head as he pondered your order: “I’m distracting now, am I?”

“Very.”

He burst out laughing. “Well we’re even then,” he proceeded to take a loud slurp of water.

He almost choked on it laughing when he saw you startle a bit, his flirt landing well with you again.

Cradling his glass, he opted to just watch you work. He’d make your second wedding happen. You deserved to be celebrated again and again. Besides, it’s not like pirates didn’t party regularly. So it’s not like they’d be going out of their way really-if that’s what you were worried about. Well, knowing you, that was something you were worried about. He found an amused little huff leaving him at that thought.

“See something funny, love?” Seems you’d heard him.

“Nope,” he grinned your way, “just thinking.”

“Should I be concerned?”

“Hey!”

“You come up with some pretty crazy schemes,” he noticed the little smirk on your lips - oh you cheeky - “they’re usually fun, even if they’re dangerous.”

“Like you’re one to talk!” He grinned. “You always add on more crazy things!”

“My crazy things are to make your crazy things less dangerous,” you hummed, “I very much prefer you alive, well, and healthy you see.”

“You just like me,” he beamed at you with a laugh.

“I love you, actually,” you responded without missing a beat nor looking up from your paperwork.

Yeah.

He was definitely giving you that second wedding here on the Moby Dick. Maybe even at one of the prettier spring or autumn islands on Pops’ turf. Whatever you’d like the most! Heck he’ll give you two second weddings - er - a second and a third. Wedding. Yeah.

Oh!

Maybe he could even surprise you with it!

He ought to get started on it - today! Right now!

He threw back the rest of his glass of water and rushed to the door.

“Ah! Ace! Wait a second!” He paused right before opening it up. “I’m just about done with this! Let me finish and I can help you with your hair and back!”

“Huh?” He raised a brow at you.

“Huh?” You returned equally confused. “Weren’t you going to shower to feel better?”

“No?” He tilted his head.

“Then you’re going straight for the kitchen?” You continued, still confused. “Didn’t you want to eat together?”

Oh that was tempting. He couldn’t say no to that. Wait, even the shower help was tempting. You’d been the one to teach him how to properly scrub his scalp after all. But he didn’t want to delay his surprise a second longer!

“Then, I’m gonna get some fresh air,” not really a lie, he’d get fresh air on his way to see Marco, “then we can eat together.”

“So no shower?”

“Wouldn’t we get caught?”

“What do you mean? I’m just washi-Ace!” You let out a garbled sound making him laugh.

“Alright, alright darlin’,” he gave you a lopsided grin, “I’m just teasing. Yeah we’ll do both.”

“Okay,” you seemed pleased with that outcome, despite it being more work for you.

He let go of the door handle to come press a kiss to your forehead, “love you.”

“Love you too,” you returned immediately.

He walked out the door feeling lighter than he had in a while.

Yeah he was definitely giving you the grandest wedding he could, and he was a Whitebeard pirate, and they really knew how to party.

Extra:

Later during an “Official Division Commander Meeting”:

Izou: she must be the one to pick out her dress

Ace: then I’ll take her out to get one picked

Izou: absolutely not! I will

Ace: hey she’s my wife

Izou: exactly! You’re not allowed to see her in the dress until the ceremony you fool!

Marco: (placing a comforting hand on Ace’s shoulder) well, there’s no one better for this task than Izou yoi

Izou: hmph! but of course

Thatch: you all have the easy part, I have to make all the food, and the cake

Ace: it’ll be worth it!

Thatch: for you maybe, you’re not the one cooking to feed a fleet. I swear I have the most difficult job

Marco: we have feasts all the time, no need to do anything extra yoi.

Ace: except the cake! The cake is really important!

Thatch: yeah yeah I heard you. groans

Marco: Besides your division has a bunch of cooks to help you out doesn’t it?

//------------------------

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