#(And then aside from that just eventually went)

[marsdql]

Its okay, baby — p.sh

[ paring: soft!park sunghoon x sensitive!fem!reader ] — synopsis: your boyfriend coming home to you being sulky because of the bad day you just experienced and comforting you | genre: teeth rotting fluff, babying | wc: 1.1k

————

Sunghoon unlocked the door, balancing a bag of takeout in one hand as he stepped into the quiet apartment. He kicked off his shoes, the familiar scent of home settling over him. “Y/n, I’m back!” he called out, expecting to hear your cheerful reply from somewhere in the apartment.

Instead, he was greeted by silence.

His brows furrowed as he set the bag on the counter, scanning the space. Then he spotted you on the couch, curled up with your knees tucked to your chest, your face buried in your hands. The soft sound of sniffles reached his ears, and his heart dropped.

“Y/n?” Sunghoon’s voice softened, worry evident as he crossed the room in a few long strides. He crouched beside the couch, his hand gently brushing your shoulder. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You looked up at him, your cheeks stained with tears, and held out your trembling hand. “I fell…” Your voice was a broken whisper, thick with tears. “It hurts, hoon…”

His eyes darted to your outstretched hand, and his breath hitched when he saw the angry red bruise blooming on your palm. He carefully took your hand, cradling it as if it might shatter under the slightest pressure. “Oh, baby…” he murmured, his voice laced with concern.

“It’s stupid,” you sniffled, wiping your face with your sleeve. “I went ice skating, and I thought I could practice a little. But it was crowded, and everyone was playing hockey. I barely had any space, and… and I slipped.”

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened, a flicker of frustration crossing his face—not at you, but at the situation. He knew how much you wanted to improve your figure skating skills, and the thought of you being pushed aside by careless skaters made his chest ache.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked gently, his thumb tracing the edge of the bruise as if his touch could soothe the pain.

“I didn’t want to bother you…” You trailed off, fresh tears welling in your eyes. “I just wanted to be good at skating, like you.”

At that, Sunghoon’s expression softened completely, his heart breaking at your words. He reached up to cup your cheek, his touch warm and steady. “Angel, you don’t have to push yourself like that. You’re already amazing, okay? And you never bother me—I want to be there for you, always.”

You sniffled, leaning into his hand as you whispered, “It just hurts so much…”

“I know, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” Sunghoon gently scooped you into his arms, carrying you as if you weighed nothing. He settled you back onto the couch, propping up some pillows behind you before grabbing an ice pack from the freezer.

He returned quickly, kneeling in front of you as he pressed the cold pack to your injured hand. “This’ll help with the swelling,” he murmured, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. “Tell me if it’s too cold, alright?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you tried to hold back another wave of tears. Sunghoon noticed immediately and leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. “Hey, it’s okay to cry,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Let it out. I’m not going anywhere.”

And that was all it took for the dam to break. You clung to him, your uninjured hand gripping his hoodie as you sobbed into his shoulder. Sunghoon wrapped his arms around you, holding you as tightly as he dared without hurting your injured hand.

“You’re so strong, y/n,” he said softly, rubbing slow circles on your back. “But you don’t have to be strong all the time. I’m here, okay? Always.”

Eventually, your sobs subsided into quiet sniffles, and you pulled back slightly to look at him. “Thank you,” you mumbled, your voice hoarse.

Sunghoon smiled, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “What are boyfriends for?”

He carefully bandaged your hand, his movements precise and gentle, before pulling you into his lap. “Now, no more skating without me, got it?” he teased lightly, though his tone was still full of concern.

You nodded, resting your head against his chest. “Got it.”

“Good,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Now, let’s get some food in you, and then I’ll help you feel better, alright?”

“Alright,” you whispered, feeling safe and loved in his arms.

“Come on, baby,” Sunghoon murmured, leaning down to scoop you up from the couch. His strong arms slipped under your legs and back, lifting you with so much ease it made you feel even smaller against him.

You let out a small, tired whimper as your head found its place against his chest, your uninjured hand clutching at his shirt.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice soft like the lull of a warm breeze. “You shouldn’t be sleeping out here. Let me tuck you into bed, okay?”

You nodded slightly, the motion lazy as you relaxed in his hold. Your aching hand throbbed faintly, but the warmth of his body and the soothing rhythm of his breathing started to make everything else blur.

Pushing open the bedroom door with his foot, Sunghoon carried you over to the bed. He gently laid you down, careful not to jostle your bruised hand. The mattress dipped under your weight, and you sighed, already starting to sink into the comfort of it.

Sunghoon didn’t leave, though. He lingered at the edge of the bed, pulling the covers up and over you, tucking them in around your shoulders with so much care it made your chest ache in a different way.

“There we go,” he murmured, his voice soft and laced with affection. “All nice and warm.”

You blinked up at him sleepily, your lips parting as if to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, your hand reached up—your good one—grasping at the sleeve of his shirt.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked, crouching down to your level.

“Stay,” you whispered faintly, your voice almost inaudible.

His smile softened even more as he nodded. “Of course, I’ll stay. You don’t even have to ask.”

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before pulling up a chair next to the bed. His hand found yours beneath the blanket, his thumb stroking gently over your knuckles.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured. “I’m right here. Sleep well, baby.”

And as you drifted off, the last thing you felt was the safety of his touch and the quiet promise of his presence.

[animeangel21]

BACK SCRATCHES PART 2

Hanma Shuji got around once upon a time, then one day he went to the right convenient store and tgats when he met you. It wasn’t his usual spot to go to but he was in the area, had no cigarettes and needed them or he’d probably kill someone.

You were in there buying a few snacks, had a drink in hand too and he could also see that some scum bag was following you around the store. He watched him while waiting in line, the guy peeped through the isles and eventually when you were gonna check out he waiting till someone was behind you to get in line with some random drink from the fridge.

He turned to you looking down at you which caught your attention making you look at up to him.

He would never admit it but he fell in love for the first time in that moment you first made eye contact, he heard wedding bells, but he’d never admit it aloud.

“You have all in your hands, would you like to go infront of me?” He asked and his voice alone was attractive to you but so was him being so kind and looking like he could beat someone to death.

“It’s okay really, I’m just getting one thing.” He lowers his voice and looks ahead. “Also someone’s been following you around the store, just so you know.”

You tap his arm and nod your head. “ I know I saw him” he steps aside so you can get infront of him. “I know how to protect myself, purses aren’t just for show.” You said proudly. He found your words very attractive. Not just in a he wanted to sleep with you but he needed to be around you for a long time.

“Hm, a woman who knows how to defend herself, well I would’ve put a bullet in his head if you didn’t first. But, could I take you out on a date instead, promise IM not the creep.” You turned to face the tall man in his suit and looked back into his gorgeous eyes. “I don’t take you for a creep, you’re quite sweet, a gentleman for sure, and willing to kill someone for me? I’d like that.” You replied and just as you turned around that person finished checking out.

“Add a pack of those cigarettes to whatever she’s getting and put it on this card” he pointed at a pack over your head and placed his card on the counter.

“What are yo-” you started and he just looked at you and winked making you blush.

“My treat doll, besides we have a date no?” He said grabbing the bag after being checked out and grabbing your hand with his free hand.

And from that day forward you and Hanma went on dates, started dating and now happily engaged. Nobody knew, he never told Kisaki and he never expected it. Hanma just told him he was meeting up with someone every day and he assumed he was sleeping with different people but he wasn’t, it’s always been you and always will be.

Sometimes He had relatively bad days like today but even so he never physically or verbally took it out on you But, Hanma also never missed the opportunity to fuck it all out.

Your caring nature and empathy really shows when you know he’s having a bad day. You see it in his face, his text messages, hear it in his voice. He loves when you sit in his lap and play with his hair while he rants about his day, you massage his shoulder then the back of his neck, down to his collar bones and then back to his hair.

But once he feels your less of your palm and more of your fingertips he can feel how hot his body really is just after his day but now he’s getting horny. And once you start dragging your fingertips down his back while looking back up at him listening to him speak he darts his tongue out to lick his lips.

He swears he feels your fingertips twitched on his back But knows your thighs definitely did and he only knew because you’re sitting on him and his hands are right on top. “Tryna make me feel better by making me hard? Only gonna frustrate me more if you’re teasing me.” You giggled at his statement which made him raise an eyebrow at you but he couldn’t help but smile right back.

“I’d never do such things, just wanna make you feel better” you continued dragging your nails up and down his back softly and it was so soft but he wanted more, he wanted to feel you digging them into his back, he needs to feel anything besides the stress and anger from today.

As weird as it was he wanted to feel pain right now and he needed that slight adrenaline rush, just so he could take that all out on someone that just happened to be you.

“Let me help you help me, I know you can’t do it on your own, cant take it by yourself either” he began to kiss and suck on your neck his tongue dragging against the skin he bites too hard with a firm grip on your hips.

“Really? From what I recall I swallow your dick without a single complaint or gag” you said panting, gasping between words as your body grew entirely too sensitive from the ticking sensation on your neck in addition to his teeth pulling the skin.

It’s not like you could run or squirm away from his mouth or touch he had you in a tight grip and you wouldn’t get away that easy and you knew that already and what would follow.

“Yeah it’s the only way to keep your smart mouth shut.” He kissed you before you could open your mouth and gave your butt a hard squeeze and laying you flat on your back against the pillows the scent of his Cologne lingered in the air and against the pillow.

He slips his fingers into the waistband of the sweats you’re wearing (they’re actually his) And he’s met with a wet patch on the crotch of your panties. “you like when I get all rough with you hm? Keep those pretty lips shut and maybe you can cum” he ran 2 fingers against the wet spot, now it was starting to hurt how hard he was.

Soon enough he was between your legs spitting and sucking on your clit while fucking his spit and cum in and out of you with his fingers. He’s kept your legs pushed up one to your chest with the other hand holding it up, the other on his shoulder and he’s getting exactly what he wanted you pulling on his hair while digging your nails into his scalp.

“Ya legs are shaking baby” he smirked and dug his fingers in deeper making you squirm feeling overwhelmed and arching off the bed. He sucks harder than he was before using his tongue to circle around your clit.

He pulls his fingers out replacing it with his in your words ‘freakishly’ long tongue before taking it out to give you a long lick from the ass to your clit before swallowing what’s on his tongue and with another long suck you gripped his hair harder and arched into his mouth and he didn’t even need to breathe he could die happy right then and there, with you whining and moaning so nicely while cumming all over his face.

“Fuck baby, give it all to me” his sentence was muffled as he still had his face buried in your pussy.

“Shu, shuj- wanna make you feel good” you gasped and moaned trying to catch your breath which seemed impossible the way he’s latched to you.

He pulls away with the entire bottom of his face wet and lips swollen and red, face blushed, and his pupils were dilated, he knew he was in so deep.

He crawled up your body till he was face to face with you still keeping your legs in his grip just slowly sliding his hands upwards till he’s got both hands behind your knees and he presses them to your chest and sticks his tongue in your mouth making you Taste yourself on his saliva.

He pulls back dropping your legs to give them a break knowing they’re gonna be sore, maybe bruised a bit. He stripped off the pajama pants he had on which was all he had on then he grabs onto the end of the sweater you wore (also his) and tosses it somewhere across the spacious room.

He wraps your legs around his waist and he can feel your nails on his back already just from his leaky tip dragging through your soaked folds right now, his shaft between your lips and the head occasionally catching against your sensitive clit was overwhelming the feeling making you dig your nails into his shoulder blades.

“Keep going sweet girl, so good fa’ me” he said between kisses on your neck and swelled hbitten lips.

He pushes himself in with no warning and from the start he can’t find it in him to be merciful. You gasp, moan, cuss all at once and you know how fucked up his back will look tomorrow. He was too big to push in so quickly and even with the prep he was so hard to take and the first reaction you had to the pain was to dig your nails into his shoulder.

“Fuckin pussy has its own heartbeat or ya tryna push me out?” He joked giving your neck a hard bite

You clenched around him when he didnt do much but give you a hard thrust to finally make you scratch him down his back slightly. “Shu’ please, please fuck me” you moaned out of breath. You needed him now and he wanted you just as much but he couldn’t help but tease you a bit, rile you up like you did him, but he really wants to push that limit, how long he could hold back from pounding you into the mattress, he wants to build up his own adrenaline to make sure he lets it all out, just like you tell him.

“Just keep laying there all pretty for me baby, I’ll give everything to y-” he’s cut off when your legs wrap around him.

“Please Shu, wan’ it all, T-Too deep baby please move.” You begged and continued to stare down at you with a smile on his face that would be mistaken for loving but his mind was twisted.

“Oh it hurts? Prove it to me baby” he dipped his head into your neck whispering such a filthy sentence causing you to grind upwards to meet his hips, you know what he wants too you may be brain dead when he fucks you like this but you’re still cunning and smart enough to know he’s a sadist and a masochist.

From his shoulder blades to about mid back as far as you could reach you dug your nails into his skin and pushed your hips into his as far as you could “please SHU-” your voice gets louder when he bites into your neck with a growl cussing under his breath but those sounds only made you clench around him tightly.

“You like this shit, as much as you try n’ run from me” his grip tightens on the pillow next to your head you could hear his knuckles crack his other hand grabs onto the crown of your head pulling back with a slight giggle.

“So pretty, My. Pretty. Slut. My. Fucking. Wife.” With each word it was followed with a hard thrust. The heels of your feet dug deeper and you already knew his back would look fucked up tomorrow the way you tried to hold him close plus it sounded entirely too sexy hearing that from his mouth.

His hips picked up momentum and he continued to use the weight of his hips to fuck into you harder. It’d sound painful to anyone who heard that but it felt ridiculously good.

You could just whine and cry out moans into his ear mumbling some nonsense he doesn’t bother to try and understand. He feels like his back is slightly on fire but the adrenaline from that only makes him to want to keep going for hours, how could he not when your pussy had a vice on him and was tightening every time his tip smashed into that sweet spot in you.

“ you hear the way she’s talkin back, practically soaking the sheets cryin fa’ me” he pulls your head down to look where you’re connected at the hips, he groans at the sight of your glistening cunt leaking white milky cum onto the bedsheets, the base of his cock had a white ring slowly dripping down his balls.

He damn near gives you whiplash when he uses your hair to pull your lips to his and he kisses you so tenderly COMPLETELY contradicting the way he’s effortlessly fucking you stupid. That doesn’t last Real long he smirks into the kiss and sucks your tongue into his mouth taking over the kiss completely licking every little crevice of your mouth, a mix of both your spot covers your chin and leaks from the corners of your mouth your lungs start to burn from the lack of air that came with such an intense make out session with each thrust knocking the wind out your lungs.

Your nails dig into the back of his neck and drag down to his biceps while you attempt to pull away from his mouth. He catches your bottom lip in-between his teeth biting down firmly “ told ya, always running from me”

“C-can’t fucking breathe shu-” you used whatever brain cells you had left to roll your eyes at him.

“Oh?” He smiled down at you, he released your hair and swiped his thumb across your lips while his hand rested on the side of your face and slips his thumb in your mouth, immediately you sucked it in-between your swollen lips the feeling of your tongue swirling around his thumb made his heart race. “You tighten up so fucking nice when you can’t breathe even more so when you’ve got something to suck on.” He smirks down at your face red with embarrassment.

He pulls his thumb away smearing your saliva over your lips and smirking down at you before picking up the pace. He thinks he could cum alone from the sound coming from between your legs, the look on your face and the pleas and cries of pleasure. He groans deeply from the chest with clenched teeth.

“Shh-Shu, wanna cum please,please” you’re hotter than you think when you beg. He never understood why or how you make begging so attractive, maybe it’s your eyes, your alluring voice or the fact that you’re begging for him.

“My wife can cum anytime she wants, I’ll make you cum all over me baby.” He slides his hand from your face, down your neck to give you a nice firm squeeze to feel how you tightened around his base as he slammed into you.

“So fucking pretty like this” he gave you another squeeze making you look him in the eyes making sure you’re almost nose to nose.

His other hand quickly took hold of the back of your knee pushing it to your chest while his hips never let up more and more pressure building up so quick it became slightly overwhelming your body acting out of reflex and attempting to arch away from his hips.

“You’re gonna cum? I feel her trying to hold on for dear life. Just fucking take it and Don’t. Run.” He punishes you with harder thrust to punctuate each word. His grip tightens on your leg, however he doesn’t even think about tightening the hand around your throat again letting it sit around your throat with a featherlight Touch.

He swears you whine about it and only smirks and slams his hips into you harder and you clench around him more. He slows down laughing at your desperate pleas for him to fuck you faster instead he pulls almost all the way out and focuses on a pretty decent looking love bite he’d put on your neck just moments prior. He softly licks on the bite and bites down before he slams his hips into yours burying himself in you fully.

You gasp and moan loudly at the same time, that pressure building up more and more, you knew he knew it and he could feel just how close you were to falling over that edge. He pulls back and slams into you and when you arch into his thrust and gasp like you just had the wind knocked out of you.

“Cum for me baby” he grinds his hips in deep with another thrust and gives your throat a firm squeeze watching your eyes roll back as you cum.

He picks the pace up as your cunt clenches around him while you’re still cumming he works towards his own orgasm. The overstimulation made you dig into his back and tears gather in your lash line.

He felt himself twitch seeing your reaction. “Fuck, you can take a little bit more baby, m’ almost there.” Your legs felt like jello, everything he said was falling on deaf ears. The overstimulation caused you to grip onto shujis back like it was the only thing that could keep you grounded right now.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill this pussy up” he groans and you could see him bite down on his lip holding back those noises you love a bit too much. You clenched around him just at the thought, hearing such vulgar noises from his mouth is a one way ticket to an orgasm. He lets out a soft moan, and pulls out slamming himself deep in you and cumming with a smirk in his face moaning right in your ear.

“F-Fuck Shuji too, too deep!” The feeling of his head pushing almost into your cervix.

“But your pussy loves it, make up your mind darling. You took it so fucking well already” he was panting between every few words little moans and groans slip out from the way you’re clenching on him.

After a few moments of heavy breathing and coming down from your earth shattering orgasms,he tries to pull out and you just pull him closer wrapping your legs around him and digging your nails into his back harder than before.

“Fuck, my backs already on fire ya wanna go again?” His tongue licks from your neck to your jaw then behind your ear biting down hard enough to make you gasp.

“Oh my god shuji I’m sensitive! Give me a few minutes, you’re gonna brea-” he kisses you and swallows up your cries when he pushes your knees to your chest

“One more time, cum for me.” He starts thrusting giggling like a psycho while moaning in your ear as your nails tore his back up further.

It was gonna be a long night.

——————————————————————————-

Waking up was easier this morning, he didn’t dread getting in the shower, or having to leave you, or kiss you good bye. Seeing you passed out in his arms with love bites and a few teeth marks and bruises covering your neck and chest.

He only added the ones on your chest while the sheets washed last night because you laughed at him the entire time for his reaction to hot water hitting his back in the shower. Of course you cleaned them for him and apologized for some of the deeper ones, kissing them better while sitting on his lower back massaging his shoulders.

So obviously he had a good day till he has to kill someone then several people and he’s in his office stripping his shirt off to change into a clean one before his next meeting.

A secret knock at his office door has him yelling ‘Come in!’ Without a second thought while pulling the shirt off his shoulders. “You are aware you have 5 mi-” kisakis voice falls as his gaze locks onto the crime scene on his right hands back.

“Who’d you fuck to look like that?” Kisaki points out sitting on his desk and Hanma is internally facepalming. How could he possibly forget that you had mind blowing sex less than 24 hours ago and then he thinks about it.

He doesn’t have shit to worry about and no way in hell he’s ever lose you.

“Well, bout time I told you I’m engaged. I was gonna wait longer but you’ve seen her damage already.” Hanma laughs to himself.

“Hmm, when’s the wedding? I never thought I’d be asking you that.” Kisaki snickers as his gaze goes up and down his back sets Of horizontal and diagonal scratches on his shoulder blades, mid back, down his arms and biceps. Blotches of Red and purple on the side and back of his neck and a bite mark on his shoulder.

“Don’t know yet, I told her she can have whatever she likes, whenever, and I’ll make it happen, you’re invited so don’t cry.” He teases Kisaki who rolls his eyes.

“Yeah no. I won’t cry but because you seem to have your ducks in a semi straight row I’ll make you a deal.” Kisaki could be doing one of two things either way he was intrigued.

“Hm, what’s that?” Hanma buttons his new shirt up.

“Bring her around sometime, just us three and let me hear her ideas for the wedding, I’ll pay for it whether it’s private, family only, or family and friends. You’ll have security, nobody in who’s not welcomed.” He simply said.

“That’s it? Nothing more or less? Since when do you care?” Hanma said shrugging his suit jacket on.

“Cause if you keep fucking her like that you’ll be a dad and I’ll be an uncle, besides anyone keeping you in line is probably a saint” he said already exhausted with this conversation.

“I’m not that bad. I was, but I’m not anymore” Hanma said opening the door to let Kisaki and himself out.

“We will see about that.”

“Ya know Kisaki, I’ll let you in on a secret, if this little plan of yours goes well maybe I’ll consider letting you join in on the fun.”

“ drop it or I’ll reconsider.”

“I can pay for my wedding, yes id rather use your Money but im being dead serious. She said it first, after I asked though.” He shrugged walking away from Kisaki hearing him sigh loudly and mumble cusses at him.

———————————————————————————

BONUS!

Takemichi and Hinas wedding.

“Who’s the babe in the purple dress?” Chifuyu could hear Ran Haitani ask his younger brother who raised an eyebrow and looked back before looking straight ahead.

“No idea, which idiot left such a woman by herself?”

“Matsuno, do you know who that is?” The older Haitani looked at him and baji takes a quick glance and looks at Kazutora who’s also just as lost.

“I will be so honest I have no idea..?” He racked his brain and come to think of it he’s been around so many gangs and gang members he definitely would’ve noticed you.

Takemichi happen to walk by and chifuyu quickly pulled him to the side “do you know who that is? I can’t remember her ever being around” he turns to see you and scratches his head, and he himself cannot seem to pinpoint where you came from.

As if clockwork though Hanma Shuji slides his arm around your waist and pulls you close and proudly strolls over to where all 6 confused men stood ( 5 cause Rindou was still sitting, drunk already.)

“Hanagaki, congratulations. Bout time i introduce you to my wife.” Hanma said and everyone’s brain seemed to short upon hearing those words out Hanma shujis mouth.

“Wife? When did you get married? When did you even date someone? HELLO??” Kazutora was so mindblown by this new piece of information, while Baji congratulated him and whisper yelled at everyone to be polite and introduce themselves. The Haitanis had no issue introducing themselves while also very subtly trying to check you out but not subtle enough for Hanma not to notice.

You shook hands with everyone, met Takemichis wife and watched everyone dance with Shuji just holding you close while you had your arms around his neck.

“Thanks for letting me meet your friends today. They’re quite funny.” He looks down at you smirking.

“ anything for you, besides its nice to show some people what they can’t have” he knows what he has they only dream about having.

“Hmm, let em keep dreaming but it’ll never happen.”

[radioactiverats]

Thoughts: Ratchet's complicated relationship with self destruction

Ratchet x reader

TW: smoking

Ratchet scowls. The past few stellar cycles had been especially tough on him, with their rations running dangerously low at times and Optimus' repeated brushes with death - the pressure on Ratchet to save him, save them, from extinction. However, Ratchet remained torn between some moral quandary that, on one hand, stubbornly insisted he should be setting an example for the others by abstaining from bad habits - and on the other hand, argued that and a little bit of relief wouldn't hinder him from doing his job.

Ratchet's job: Saving others.

The line between his professional and personal life may have been more apparent, once upon a time. But since the war, he's become a lot more than just a medic. They have young bots on the team - Ratchet has begrudgingly embraced his secondary role as a mentor, so god forbid Bumblebee walks in on him with a cy-gar.

Himself: Not included.

He didn't have time for that. Why recharge another cycle when it could spent on precious research that could potentially save their lives?

You just happen to catch him, greeting dying on your lips as you take in his tense frame, optics locked on something in his hand.

He'd barely thought twice about testing the synth-en on himself. If anything, it was almost regrettable how liberating it felt. He let the others destroy it without a word of protest, knowing that he wouldn't be able to resist that fleeting feeling of invincibility if they hadn't.

He knows he's a hypocrite for nagging the others to quit their unhealthy habits, even if out of genuine concern.

It was wishful thinking, but he couldn't force his patients to take care of themselves. And now, watching Optimus hurl himself headfirst into danger, bots reaching for the engex more often than they did the energon - he didn't blame them. The war had taken a toll on everybody.

So, he's a physician. He should be the most well-informed to make decisions about his frame.

You wait for Ratchet to speak first. He doesn't acknowledge you, but you can tell by the agitated flicking of his audials that he knows you're there.

"Cy-gar," Ratchet eventually says, after a few beats of hesitation. He rotates it in deft fingers, eyeing it, before sighing as he gets up. "It's sometimes used in medicine for its pain reduction qualities, but only when there's no other alternative, because it has other... unpleasant side effects. Addiction, for one, and internal damage from rust buildup if used too often."

Ah. Very similar to cigarettes, then. "Do you...?" You ask, gesturing at it.

"Not in a while," Ratchet admits. "It would be ironic if the CMO went around smoking, wouldn't it?"

A long while, then.

Well, it seems the two of you are more alike than you thought. You turn away from him for a second to root around in your bag, digging out a slightly crumpled pack of cigs. You wave it at him, almost sheepishly. "Want to...?"

Ratchet squints at the pack in your hand as he connects the dots. "You really shouldn't be - oh, who am I kidding," he groans, giving up on admonishing almost immediately. Should you be grateful that he's so willing to cast the mask aside that easily in front of you?

"I only smoke sometimes," you mumble. "Only when I really need it."

Ratchet stares at you for a few more seconds, as if debating whether or not to play the good doctor again, before he slumps back with a sigh.

"That's why I try to avoid it," he grouses. "Who's going to believe a physician who doesn't follow his own advice?"

And you do see his point. But you also understand that sometimes, it's simply too much, and you need a little bit of something, anything, to take the edge off so that you can keep going as before.

"Ratchet," you call, yanking him from his self-deprecating spiral. "I'll indulge you this once if you'll indulge me."

His optics, focused wearily on you, widen for a nanoklik before cycling once, twice, as he takes this in. He's in no position to bluff his way out of this and honestly, he has no intention to. Both of you have long acknowledged your shared understanding with each other. It was the almost desperate need to take care of others which made you take notice of each other, and the helplessly comical inability to take care of yourselves which drew you closer together. The two of you are so similar that Ratchet takes comfort in knowing that he doesn't have to try so hard to pretend around you.

"Alright," he agrees, sounding half resigned, yet half grateful. "Just this once."

You nod, and climb into his outstretched servo. A blast of chilly air hits you both when you emerge on the rooftop, and you shiver involuntarily before Ratchet curls his servos around you to shield you from the cold.

He carefully sets you on his thigh, where you can lean into the warmth of his frame. You waste no time in lighting up, the miniscule roar of your lighter flaring into the quiet of the night. Ratchet watches you sag with visible relief as you take your first, shuddering drag, before lifting the cy-gar to his intake. It's your turn to watch him as his optics offline for the long, few seconds that his chassis rises, and cycle online again as he lazily ex-vents a haze of purple smoke.

You feel a flash of guilt for finding the scene before you attractive - but then Ratchet's optics find yours, bright and intense. "Don't worry," he says. "Not harmful to humans."

He glances back at you again through half-lidded optics when you continue to stare at him. Amidst the haze of purple, you can clearly see the tension drain from his frame, plating drawn less tightly around him as he settles into a more comfortable position.

His optics are no less dull, though. His gaze doesn't leave your face until he seems to find something he's looking for, realizing that health and safety is not necessarily a priority for you both at the moment. A smirk actually finds its way onto his faceplate, and you internally curse the fragger for being so goddamn attractive.

"Want a taste?"

You don't hesitate and find yourself in his warm servos again, lifted level with his faceplate. Ratchet takes a long drag from the cy-gar, optics never leaving yours.

"Open," he murmurs, and you breathe deep as he ex-vents a warm, purple mist over you. It's a funny sensation - tingly, almost, and a breath shudders out of you as you feel the effects take hold, a wonderful, lightheaded rush that blitzes through your veins like lightning.

"Oh," you murmur, grateful for the careful way he catches you as you tip backwards. "That's really good."

Ratchet merely hums, low and satisfied as he cradles you to his chassis, allowing you to float in a few more moments of lightheaded bliss.

Lying down, you bring your own half-burnt cigarette to your lips as you take in the starry night sky above you. It's beautiful, and you blow a puff of smoke upwards - a cloud of purple twines itself into the grey mist, and you watch the tendrils dance and coil around the outline of shimmering stars before dissipating into the cold night air.

Just because the moment is fleeting doesn't mean it's any less valuable. Both of you know that when the last cig burns out, it'll be back to business - but neither of you make a move to disrupt the peace that has settled in between deep inhales and long, slow ex-vents.

Tonight, it's just you, Ratchet, the stars - and a swirling purple mist that shields you from the rest of the world.

[leighsartworks216]

Fine Arts

Rafayel x gn!graphic designer!Reader

This is the last one!!! THank goD!!

Warnings: pre-relationship, banter, bickering, if this was a full series it would be enemies to lovers

Word Count: 925

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

This meeting, compared to the other clientele you've dealt with over your career, was going well. The manager was taking over discussions of appearance, providing wants and desires, styles and color palettes, while the real client was pouting and making snide remarks with very unhelpful feedback.

So, really well. At least the manager was actually listening to you.

"If you want the exhibition to feel high class, I'd recommend a script or serif font. Sans serifs can work sometimes, but they have different connotations." You write down a few notes to yourself in your sketchbook.

Rafayel scoffs. "Art shouldn't be limited to the elite. My works are for everyone to view, not just the people on top with the deepest pockets."

You offer him a placating smile. "I understand what you mean, Mr. Rafayel, but given the area the gallery is in and the fame of your works, it may be better to appeal to the elites that are more likely to come and spend their money." You tilt your head, adding, "Though, if you'd like to broaden your audience to appeal to the layman, I'd be happy to create a few versions from that angle."

Thomas sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose like he's had this conversation a thousand times before. Given his client, maybe he has. "It's a charity event, Rafayel. We want buyers who will spend a lot of money for your work to benefit the charity. Normal people aren't our audience here."

"The charity benefits 'normal people', doesn't it? Why are they suddenly being excluded out of this?"

"If someone is willing to spend more, more money can be donated to the charity. It's not that hard to understand!"

"But they should still feel welcome to visit the gallery, even if they don't have the funds to buy anything."

You clear your throat. The men look at you. Rafayel stares at you like he wants you to burst into flames. "Rafayel's name will draw enough attention from the art world to attract buyers willing to spend big money. If you want the event itself to be seen by normal people, design for the normal person. Besides, a normal person will be more interested in the design of the promotional material than an elite just buying the work for their wall."

Rafayel looks at Thomas. The manager taps his fingers impatiently on the table, before sighing. "Fine. Elegant, but welcoming. You can manage that, right?"

You smile thinly at him. "Of course."

He sighs again, nodding. He checks his watch. "This meeting's run over. Contact me when you have drafts drawn up. I'll send you the info," he rambles off as his chair scrapes against the floor and he stands. He leaves with little else to say aside from a brief 'have a nice day'.

You make a few more notes in your sketchbook, crossing out the older notes you don't need anymore. Rafayel sighs heavily from the end of the table.

"You got what you needed. Are you gonna leave now?"

"Mhm. I just wanted to know if I could see the centerpiece for the exhibit. It would give me a better idea for color schemes and layouts."

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you. "Thomas already went over all that with you. Why do you need to see it in person?"

You chuckle. "Forgive me, but I don't trust a business man to know what looks good with what. I'd rather trust the artist he's trying to promote."

He stares at you for a minute. His finger taps a rhythm against his arm, contemplating whether he should work with you or send you right out the door.

Eventually, he sighs. "Fine, but no peeking at anything else!"

"If I want to see the rest of your stuff, I'll go to the exhibit myself."

He leads you through his house where the meeting took place. It's one of the nicer places you've ever been in when working with a client. You've seen mansions and manors before, once or twice, but this felt nicer than those. Those were stuffy and dark, trying to impress a higher class of people. Compared to those, this was casual. The sea breeze coming in through the windows was refreshing, enticing you to run out onto the beach after this.

When you reach the entrance of his studio, he makes you cover your eyes. You relent, letting him lead you through the place until he stops you. The heat of his hand lingers on your arm.

"Okay, you can look now."

You drop your hands and blink away the darkness until your eyes can adjust. Three canvases are all lined up on separate easels, coming together to form one scene. It's ocean-themed, as most of his works seemed to be from your brief research, depicting the story of a mermaid stranded on a beach, being saved by a passing fisherman.

"Oh, so it's a triptych."

He blinks at you. "I'm surprised you know what that is.”

You give him an unimpressed look. "I do have a bachelor's in fine arts, you know."

"Why? You work with computers all day for your job, why do you need to know the traditional aspects of art?"

"Well, aside from having background knowledge for clients like you who do traditional artwork, I don't just work with computers for my art. A lot of my job entails sketching, a traditional medium. Just because I know how to transfer it to a digital format doesn't mean I'm exempt from learning about it."

---

Tag List:

@nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko

[altocat]

As much as I do love and support Lucretia's dubious science wrongs, I think it's important to remember everyone on the Jenova Project (sans Hojo) Really did believe that Jenova was a Cetra. To Lucretia her baby, if everything went correctly, would be no different from a human aside from having the ability to speak with the Planet and help find the "promised land".

Doing so would be the greatest feat in science, it would abate an inevitable energy crisis and make the entire world a better place, basically the ultimate repentance for wrong she felt she committed to Grimoire. She did not know she was putting evil alien genes into her baby, and it was Hojo's abusive ass who kept that information from her and everyone else. Her tragedy is more in the fact she was conned than her setting out to do evil science from go.

I would definitely argue that Gast is way worse than Lucrecia. From what I understand, he eventually found OUT that Jenova wasn't a Cetra and rather than take responsibility for his actions, he dumped Sephiroth in order to pursue something else, leaving him at the mercy of Hojo. I understand this is all offscreen subtext that they could easily retcon it in Part 3, but yeah. Lucrecia still did nothing wrong compared to Gast.

I frame Lucrecia's logic as her committing to the Jenova Project as a way to make up for what happened with Grimoire, as you said above. I believe she genuinely thought this was a redemption of sorts, and that she'd be permitted to be involved in Sephiroth's upbringing. There's nothing in her speech or motives that suggests that she would have EVER sanctioned Sephiroth becoming a weapon. I think that's probably why Hojo stole Sephiroth from her at the first opportunity. Lucrecia probably thought she was birthing some sort of child-savior that she could groom and nurture into becoming a protector of the planet, a Cetra that could revolutionize the foundations of the world. Her shock and horror at Sephiroth being taken AWAY from her suggests that she WANTED him in her life, and that she recognized that giving him over to Hojo was a bad thing.

I'd also like to point out that (also unlike Gast), Lucrecia left because there was no rational way for her to reach Sephiroth. Having failed to save Vincent, she likely reasoned that she was completely powerless in going up against a major organization like Shinra. If she can't even rescue her baby from Hojo, how could she possibly go up against the very SYMBOL of fascist capitalism? The very same organization that starts WARS with ARMIES of soldiers at its disposal? Sephiroth would have been heavily guarded. And Hojo could just as easily threaten his life if Lucrecia got any fancy ideas. Whereas Gast fled for his own selfish pursuits, Lucrecia fled out of despair and complete futility, looking to PUNISH herself any way that her body would allow in penance for her sins. She wanted her son. But she couldn't have him. It was one more life she couldn't save. And since she couldn't die on her own terms, she sought whatever means necessary to isolate herself from the rest of the world, to ensure that she couldn't do any more damage.

Do I think Lucrecia would have been a good mother to Sephiroth? No, probably not. I think she would have loved him, and would have done her best to be a good mother to him. But I also think her demons would have caught up with her and she would not always be the most stable presence to be around. I think having her in his life would have been infinitely healthier for Sephiroth than the canon alternative. But that doesn't mean that Lucrecia would be the ideal mother he fantasizes about.

I just think that Lucrecia is NOT the unholy satanic abomination that "fans" label her to be. She's a tragic character caught in a downward spiral. With no idea how to claw her way out. She's done terrible things, but not out of malice or the desire to cause harm to others. She wants to fix her mistakes. But she doesn't know how. And so she punishes herself over and over and over again, unintentionally making the situation worse. It's honestly kind of depressing. I don't think she needs to be a perfect, flawless, angelic character. But she's far from the worst offender in the Jenova Project.

[pinkpeachypoppies]

Hey, has anyone thought about how the nation of L'Manberg had three canon lives, symbolically represented on the flag itself? It's been established that "canon deaths" are narratively significant deaths, typically causing massive emotional changes in the individual. For the purposes of this, the "life" of L'Manberg is the spirit of the nation and the culture.

The first "canon death" of L'Manberg was Eret's betrayal, represented by the yellow X on the left, causing a change in the anthem and the culture of L'Manberg, and leading to an overall tone shift in the server as a whole, eventually leading to moral greyness and a descent into darkness. Notably, the first canon death occurred from within "the walls" (betrayal by a citizen), and during a time of war, represented by darkness. I personally associate yellow with gold in this instance, and it's notable that Eret betrayed L'Manburg for political power, for a crown.

(Aside- the common meanings assigned to flag colours in vexillology are:

Blue - liberty

White - Peace

Red - Blood

And I personally choose to assign black the symbolic meaning of war and conflict. Notably, during Schlatt's rule of Manburg, the flag turned all black with red X's, it was neither a time of peace nor liberty, and the nation was steeped in conflict and grim darkness like never before.

I also believe that the order of the colours on the original flag is relevant - they are a nation built on blood and conflict (lowest red stripe), even in times of peace (white) L'Manberg's citizens are still prone to conflict (red X's), and they strive for liberty (blue stripe), but never seem to actually reach it, at least not for long. If we take the colour of the X's during each of the deaths to represent the mentality of L'Manberg's citizens, we'll note the yellow X during the first death, just prior to Eret's betrayal was probably the brightest and happiest time for L'Manberg in terms of interpersonal conflict, despite the war going on. It was clear then who the enemies were and the populace was united and optimistic.)

The second death of L'Manberg was the first November 16th - when c!Wilbur blew up L'Manberg. This death was caused by someone who was narratively and politically an "outsider", no longer truly a part of L'Manberg, someone from "outside the walls", and against the backdrop of a supposed peace (white) - they'd just won back L'Manberg and were celebrating entering a new era, before L'Manberg was suddenly plunged back into bloodshed and chaos by Technoblade turning against the L'Manbergians and c!Wilbur Soot blowing up the state. Continuing with "the X's represent the emotional state of the citizens" line, this was also a time of serious interpersonal emotional strife for L'Manberg's citizens (in both Pogtopia and Manburg).

The third canon death of L'Manberg was during a relatively peaceful era of rebuilding (white), though there was still conflict and trauma felt by the citizens (red X), again committed by an outsider (Phil and Techno). Note how the state was never rebuilt after this death, and former citizens went their own ways, making their own settlements elsewhere.

[maddieandangel]

Had a weird Hollow Knight-related dream a couple days ago, so I decided to draw a major scene I remembered from it dgsgshf

More context will be in the tags, for those interested!

[excadrill]

anyway i have a doctors appointment today can someone hype me up (<- scared of doctors)

[izzy-b-hands]

Putting on last year's trans rigs stream from Drawfee before i have to get ready to go out with my mum and her bf today (bc i have the worst feeling in my gut he's gonna make that An Thing for me if given the chance today, aka whenever i eventually need the restroom while we're at Mystic)

[beeseverywhen]

Still makes me so mad that the hospital stole my teeth when I was too out of it from the anesthesia to fight them on it. I grew those! Just because they turned on me and I needed them out of my body, doesn't mean I didn't want to keep them.

[piratefalls]

upon whatever number rewatch this is at this point (3? 4?) i just clocked that adalind actually looks uncomfortable when she’s flying to vienna at the end of season 3. like she’s telling herself, on repeat, “it was for my baby” while also not feeling good about the thing she did. she’s trying so hard to justify it to herself but she can’t even make herself fake a smile. she’s not proud. she’s a desperate mother who wants her child back and will do whatever it takes to accomplish it.

[miesozernacma]

is

is there maybe a

a strategy to confessing to your father you hate him

becaauuuseee

[lxnarphase]

𓇼 FUCK HER, FLIP HER, BEND HER BACKWARDS !

❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : the church always says sex for pleasure is a sin, and nanami kento is a man of the lord. but fuck, if his wife isn't worth sinning for. wc: 4.3k

❤₊‧⁺...cw : n. kento x fem!reader, religious themes, traditionalist views on sex and marriage, loss of virginity, missionary to mating press, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, nanami loses himself in your pussy, slight cum play, dirty talk

❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : am i unintentionally coping with religious trauma? possibly but it is fun :33 anyways based of this! forgive me if my writing is a bit rusty, it's been a while but enjoy !!

the two of you have spoken about eventually having children many times, but knowing the steps it took...it kept you both pushing it back, knowing eventually you'd both be ready.

after speaking with doctors, asking for advice from the church, and having you grumble about the neighbors who welcomed a cute baby girl, the two of you figured it was time.

you did your best to act normal all dayl, trying not to seem to nervous or too excited as you went about your chores for the day.

it may just be an act to procreate, but...it's still your first time with nanami. you want it to at least feel special.

there was nothing in the bible that went against that, right?

well, you have plenty of time to overthink since it seems that your dear husband will be at work late. to pass the time, you wait upstairs in your shared bedroom, the TV on as a distraction.

you're so stuck in your own world that you don't even notice him in the doorway before he clears his throat, leaning in the doorway. "oh! hi, honey, welcome home!" you go to stand up, but he holds up a hand, making you stop before you can get up from the bed.

it's silent, aside from the noise from the TV, and you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation.

has...has he always looked that handsome?

he continues to stand by the door, still not making eye contact. "you said it...starts today, correct," nanami questions, focused on undoing the straps of his watch. it shouldn't be attractive, it's such a simple task...yet it has your stomach doing flips as you nod.

"mhm, my, uh...ovulation starts today." it's such a weird thing to say, it just makes everything feel so...clinical. but that's how it's supposed to be, right? those who use sex for pleasure instead of procreation are sinners, or whatever the reverend at the church says.

"mm."

slowly pulling it off, he sets the watch on the dresser before shutting the bedroom door

"good."

dear god in heaven, you think to yourself, struggling to swallow the saliva pooling inside your mouth as he starts to undress. please forgive me for such inappropriate thoughts about my husband.

he removes his suit jacket—black today, it seems—placing it carefully on his desk chair, followed by his cufflinks and tie. his shirt is next, each button popping to reveal his strong, well-maintained physique.

you have to stop yourself from pumping your fist in the air for getting so lucky with such an attractive man as your husband. too busy ogling him like a horny teenager, you miss him undoing his belt before tugging them down and stepping out of his boxers.

once you do realize he's fully undress, you blush hard once he approaches the end of the bed—it took everything out of you not to stare at that...monster hanging between his legs, dear lord—and climbs onto it, making his way to hover over you.

his eyes roam up and down your body, taking in the pretty silky night dress you had on. It’s a soft blue with lacy white trim with little intricate flower designs.

modest, yet sensual.

"this is new," he comments, voice low and sultry. you can't help but wonder if he meant to sound so...so...

you don't find the correct word for it, but this new tone lights a fire in your stomach that has your r thighs squeezing together just a little bit.

"well, i figured it was an important night...you know, finally popping our cherries a-and starting a family?"

it's a weak attempt at humor, your voice clearly giving away your nervousness. you just pray that he ignores it.

a soft hum leaves him, his fingers playing with the intricately designed lace trim. the idea that you want to make this whole ordeal special, that you want to give yourself to him wholly, and that you want to swell with his child...

it pleases him greatly, a small smile touching his lips.

"well, aren't you sweet, my dearest?"

such simple words, yet they relieve so much tension from your shoulders. you can't help but smile back before a little gasp falls from your lips when his hands start to lift the dress up. his hands, they're so big, so hot on your skin.

It's a struggle to remember that this is for the purpose of producing offspring and nothing else, but you try, you try so hard.

but when you hear the hitch in his breath at the realization you didn't have anything else underneath the dress after he pulls it over your head, it's hard to remember.

the thought just about completely leaves your mind at the way nanami, your usually put-together husband, looks so hungrily down at you, a look you've never seen before in those pretty hazel eyes.

his gaze lingers on your body for a moment, mouth opening before shutting instantly, preventing himself from saying something he'd likely regret.

calm down, kento, he reminds himself, taking a second to clear his mind. this is for the purpose of family, not sinful and carnal desires.

even so, he's drinking in the sight of you, unable to stop his hands from rubbing up and down your sides, the soft skin of you, his wife, warming his palms. all his.

"gorgeous," he mumbles, unaware he even said it.

the moment you feel his leaking cock brush against your leg, a thought occurs to you.

neither one of you has a single idea of how to do this.

sure, you both know enough about putting it inside and moving, but that was about it. is there something else you should do? things you should say, places you should touch to aid in the process?

they never explained the actual process of sex in church, and lord knows your mother and father would've keeled over and died instantly if you were to ask them.

'it comes naturally when god deems it your time' the reverend stated once during a sermon. you fight back a frown, realizing that man probably had even less of an idea of how to do it.

however, the feeling of his tip nudging against your slit rips a gasp out of you, bringing you back into the present.

"are you alright? you left me for a bit there," nanami asks, his brow furrowed in worry. if you weren't ready, he was willing to back off. he may want to fulfill this important aspect of marriage, but...not if you don't want it.

"n-no, i'm okay! just...wondering how all of this is going to work out," you softly reassure, giving a weak giggle.

he can't blame you, he isn't very sure either. but as the man of the house and as your husband, he didn't plan on letting you worry. he would do all the work, you just needed to lay there looking so pretty, so soft, so...he realizes he's doing it again, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn't.

"just...j-just relax, we will figure it out as we go along."

with your silent nod, nanami starts to push his hips forward, hissing silently when he realizes the wetness that greets him.

you were this aroused just from...talking?

the thought of scolding you for letting your mind wander crossed his own, but...it would be hypocritical when his cockhead is dribbling precum all over your soft mound.

you choke out a noise of pain when his cock finally notches onto you and starts to push inside. sure, your wetness helped get the tip and the few inches after it inside, but just that is already too much for you, and you're expected to take all of it?!

you do your best not to move, not really sure what you should be doing. you'd be a good wife and bear with the pain if you had to, your nails digging into the pillow under your head as you braced yourself for the rest of his cock.

but this is absolutely unbearable, how do other women bear with this and have 6 or more children?!

a flicker of concern flashes through nanami's eyes at the sound you made, and he stops moving forward. he may be a bit mean sometimes, but he wasn't cruel.

if you both are going to go through with this, he is not going to make you suffer and nor is he going to force you to endure a painful experience.

no true man of god would do such a thing.

"breathe, don't hold it in," he instructs, his voice somehow calm and collected. one of his hands laces with yours, hoping to provide some sort of comfort as his lips brush against your forehead. "i've got you, darling, the pain will pass, just...tell me to stop if it gets too bad. don't hold it in."

giving a soft nod, you try to match his breathing, your body relaxing and making it easier for nanami to slip the rest of himself inside, a near silent sigh escaping him. the tightness and initial resistance that greeted him nearly made him moan, his cock twitching violently inside of you.

something about the physical feeling and knowledge that you saved yourself for him like you promised years before you both got married sent a surge of possession and pride, knowing he has such a loving and faithful wife who is so willing to give herself up to him like this...he can only hope you feel the same knowing he saved himself for you and only you.

so, as a 'reward'—and totally not because he fears you'll strangle his cock off with how tight you are—he's so gracious to you, not moving to let you get used to the stretch and feel of him inside, the room silent except for your matching breathing.

a few moments go by, and you should feel embarrassed when you feel slick drip out of you and down your ass. the realization that your dearest husband, one of the most faithful men of the church, is letting his cock soak inside of your hot cunt makes you whine a little, slick walls fluttering around him.

he's so fucked.

"a-ah...i'm going to move now," he warns, taking your sudden noise as a good sign. nanami shifts his legs just a bit before giving an experimental thrust, his brow furrowing as he slowly finds a rhythm.

the feeling of your hot and gummy walls is absolutely intoxicating, divine, nothing he's ever felt before.

this is what it felt like?

this is what he waited for?

fuck, it felt...it felt so good.

too good.

for you, the pain completely melts away, and you silently thank god and the angels above for giving you a merciful husband who is so kind as to wait for you to loosen up around him.

little do you know, he would rather kill himself than start moving when you're still adjusting to the pain and stretch.

his gentle movements make you all but melt under him, your eyes fluttering at the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your veins.

no wonder your parents preached about saving yourself until marriage, and thank the heavens you listened.

the very thought of feeling this way with anyone but your kento puts a bad taste in your mouth.

meanwhile, nanami chants prayers in his head over and over again as he tries his best to focus on the 'true' purpose for this.

the sticky, wet, and gooey sensation of your plump cunt sucking him, practically weeping each time he pulls out is just unfair.

the poor man, he's fighting so hard to maintain his composure, to not succumb to the base instincts that those soft moans of yours are beginning to stir within him.

"s-shush, darling," he grits out, hips still following his slow, deep pace. "don't...don't make such noises," he all but pleads, voice tinged with a huskiness that betrayed his growing need for you.

“i-i’m sorry! just, it...feels good, y-you feel good, feels s-so good,” you whisper, hands coming up to cover your mouth and stifle those sickeningly sweet noises.

but of course, that isn’t enough because each push and pull of his cock stirs your drooling cunt, filling the room with wet, filthy squelching sounds.

nothing about this is holy, nanami thinks as he grits his teeth, hands fisting in the sheets next to your head.

look at her.

those soft, muffled noises are truly music to his ears, his pace morphing from the slow, deep grind into a faster pace as your soft body gives into the pleasure.

so wet, so damn tight around my cock., like she never wants to let me pull out.

"k-kento, y-you're goin' too deep, i-i can't be quiet, s'too much!"

messy little pussy, 's beggin' for cum, needs it, needs to feel my tip kissin' her cervix as i pump load after load into her womb.

he knows what that little voice is, and no matter how much he wants to claim that it’s the sound of demons pouring their sinful words into his mind, he knows that it's his thoughts, fueled by those dirty little noises that she can't hold back.

how pitiful, how sinful, doesn't she know she's going against all the teachings they've heard preached every weekend in their church?

doesn't she know she's giving into lust?

doesn't she know her pretty sounds are making his dick throb, painting her insides with his hot, gooey precum?

"hush, 'm not going to t-tell you again, you...you need to be quiet," he growls, the command lacking its earlier authority.

nanami also knows lying is a sin, and he's doing a damned lot of it right now as he tries to convince himself that you need to stay silent. after all, this—this is just a process of giving you both a child, just like you wanted, and nothing else.

but he's lying to himself.

he needs you to be quiet or else he'll lose it.

the poor man is barely holding onto his restraint, and these sweet noises pouring from your mouth aren't helping at all.

"y-you make this so difficult sometimes, my dear..." his voice is rough with need and desire, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. "but, by god, you're...you're. absolutely. exquisite."

he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his hips into you in a way that has the coarse hair on his crotch to rub against your clit. the pleasure it gives you is electric, your legs coming up to squeeze his hips as you try to grind with him.

his words, his simple praise only makes you hiccup his name, crying out louder as your watery eyes roll back as your needy cunt squeezed down on his fat cock.

you're such a sweet thing, trying oh-so hard to mute your sounds. each snap of his hips is all but driving you insane.

“i-i can’t, ken, y-you don’t understand, i-it feels so good, i-i’m so full! you’re pressing against all the good spots, kentoo, i-i love you s' much, b-but i can't!”

be a good fucking husband and do what you were made to, nanami kento.

his teeth dig into his bottom lip, trying to hard to ignore that temptation purring in the back of his mind.

the voice is so much louder now, echoing throughout his mind and muting any prayers or pleads to be mindful of the sanctity of this whole process.

fuck her. give her what she needs, what she deserves.

but it's too fucking hard, he can't his hips are speeding up, his strong hands moving to grip your thighs, unaware of how they start to anchor behind your knees.

breed your pretty little wife and give her a baby like she deserves.

with a deep groan, nanami finally loses all control, fingers digging into your supple thighs to push them to your chest and practically folding you in half.

this new angle has him openly moaning like a dirty whore, allowing him to plunge even deeper into your tight, gummy walls, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each and every deep thrust.

"k-ken, kenny, k-ken," you sob, tears catching onto your lashes as your entire being is assaulted by the endless pleasure your husband is giving you. he doesn't even look like your kento anymore, his pupils blown so wide that you can barely see the ring of greens and brown of his iris.

"f-fuck. 's all your fault, you know that," he hisses, eyes narrowing as he weakly glares down at you. but you can see the hearts in his eyes as he gives in to the pleasure.

his dark eyes bore down into yours, the wet plap plap plap plap of his hips slamming into yours almost overpowering his voice. "if y-you just stayed quiet like i asked, w-we wouldn't be here."

a little spurt of wet gushes out of you, making his fall forward into the juncture of your neck with a groan at the dirty noise it makes,

"god, i-i can feel it, y'know? can feel this sticky pussy—such a dirty little pussy—makin' such a mess. saved it jus' for me, didn't you, baby? mmhm—fuckin' hell, 's tight—thank you god f' giving me such an angel of a wife." nanami is huffing nonsense against your neck, pounding into you with a force that has the bed creaking loudly.

if you weren't being fucked stupid, you would be worried he was about to break the bed.

"you can keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, b-but you jus' had to have the noisiest little cunt."

he's so mean, but it only serves to make you gush even more, the way juices pour out of you and only make the already filthy noises even nastier.

"she's talkin' to me, baby, y'hear it? i'm...i-i'm gonna breed you," he manages to whine into your ear, pulling away to press his sweaty forehead against yours.

his tongue, so pink and pretty—you want it in your mouth, want to taste it want to feel it against yours—runs over his top lip as he watches drool drip down the corner of your mouth while you nod brainlessly.

nanami's never felt so dirty, so unhinged, but it feels so right, feels so fucking good. he never wants to leave your pussy, never wants to pull out, this is where he belongs, buried deep inside you as his cock pumps load after load right into your tummy, giving you what you need, what you deserve.

"yeah? you want that? i'll give it to you, baby, promise, 'm gonna be a good husband a-and knock you up, gonna make you a mommy."

that has you keening, tears pouring down your cheeks at the pleasure it shoots up your spine. you know you're close, but it's different.

it feels different, feels too much, there's pressure you've never felt before from the few times you'd cave in and play with your puffy, swollen clit in the shower when you waited for nanami to get home from work to kiss you to sleep.

no, you feel like you are about to fucking explode. "ken, i-i can't, 'm gonna—s-something's coming," you try to warn, your hands fisting in his hair as you tug and tug and tug.

the pull of his hair makes him moan like a slut, it sounds so fucking good. his eyes are rolling back before he rushes to comfort you, pressing soft little open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

you don't need to fight it, you just need to give it to him, give him what he needs.

"shh, shh, don' cry, y' look t'pretty, honey. l-let it happen, cum for me, i've got you, angel, cum for me s-so i can fill you up," he coos, his hips growing erratic as he feels your silky walls starting to fluttering around him, feeling you teeter on the edge of release.

he shifts, just barely, just enough to better position himself to fuck deeper into you. but that slight movement has his cock smushing against something soft and spongy that makes you sob, growing softer and more pliant under him, and you know you are done for as all you can do is wail his name.

"please, pretty girl, cum for me, show me how good 'm making you feel, soak my cock, c'mon, you can do it."

with a loud mewl that nearly has nanami soaking your walls in cum, you dig your nails into his biceps as you finally, finally cum. and you're right, it is different, your cute pussy squirting and creaming all over his dick.

the poor man is choking back a whine, eyes wide in shock as your cunt just gushes slick everywhere, clenching around him like a vice as you cum.

your juices are soaking his cock and balls, splattering against his lower abdomen obscenely. the thought of making you do that again crosses his mind for a split moment before the need to fill you up for being so good overpowers any other thought.

not giving you a break, he continues his unforgiving fucking, ignoring your cries and pleads for him to slow down.

"nonono, shh, shh, shush, you can take it," he coos against your lips, no longer caring if this was sinning or not. all he could think about was the constant squeezing and spasming of your poor overstimulated slit that was milking him toward his orgasm.

you try to squirm away, but the way he has you folded in half has you unable to do anything but accept his stupidly deep thrusts that make you swear you can taste his cock in the back of your throat.

"t-tha's it." he's panting, slurring his words, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. it’s so wet, so messy now, but he can't find it in himself to care.

no, all he can think about as he looks down at you is how you'll have that angelic glow as you grow round with his baby, and everyone will know you're his, that he knocked you up, he pumped you full of his cum, that you're his you're his you're all fucking his—

"f-fuck, honey, i-i can't..." his hips stutter as he does his best to maintain his rhythm, but his own release is barreling down on him. his heavy balls are drawing up tight as they slap against your ass, your juices still pouring out and soaking all of him.

"'m gonna fill you up, 'm gonna pump this—this sinful little cunt f-full of m'cum, angel, gonna knock you up, gonna have you drippin' with me, g-gonna give you a fuckin' baby, shit—"

with a deep, guttural groan, nanami hisses your name as he buries himself as deep as possible, his hot tip kissing your cervix as thick, hot ropes of his potent cum pour right into your womb, hips grinding into you and giving little thrusts as you milk his cock weakly despite your overstimulation.

it's—it's so much, he's still cumming, how was all of this inside of him? you can practically feel it sloshing around inside of you, and you whimper when you feel it gush out around his now softening cock, dripping down your ass onto the bed.

a moment or two passes, and he sits up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and looking down at you.

oh.

you sweet thing, you're an absolute mess. you have tear streaks down your cheeks, your lips swollen from him unknowingly biting them between the little kisses he was giving you, a pretty sheen of sweat on you, and...

his eyes trail lower to where his dick is still nestled inside of you, and it takes everything in him to not accidentally thrust his hips a little bit.

it's a creamy, sticky mess, a mixture of his and your cum seeping out your poor, abused pussy.

"o-oh. sorry, my love. i'm...not quiet sure what happened there. i apologize for such...foul language," he mumurs, his hand stroking your hip. "'s okay," you softly coo back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as you try to catch your breath. "i-i liked it..."

but you quickly learn you've married both a man of god and a curious, insatiable bastard who can't help but drag his cum all over your pussy, quickly finding your clit. and the reaction you give him is one he decides he likes, your hips canting up as your soft, oversensitive walls squeeze around his cock again.

"k-kento, that's nasty!"

all you get in response is a grumbling noise in his chest as it takes you weakly slapping your hands against his chest to get his eyes to snap away from your gooey, creamy pussy.

clearing his throat, he looks down at you, that heated look slowly creeping back onto his face. "perhaps we...we should try once more. just to ensure it takes," he states, doing his best to show some semblance of dominance.

but it's impossible when his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pupils blown as he gazes down at your panting form like he's about to devour you whole.

"after all, a...a big family is what god wants from man and woman, right? so we...shouldn't delay and keep trying." his hand trails up your side before finding its way to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh.

his thumb experimentally rolled your nipple, and the way your body reacted, a soft gasp of his name...how is he supposed to explain the feeling he's getting in the confessional booth?

"y-yeah," he gulps, leaning his head down. you can feel his hot breath against your tit, and you swear you feel drool drip onto your breast. "w-we'll keep trying. jus' to make sure w-we do what the scripture asks."

may god forgive him for being such a fucking liar and a damned bad one at that.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[chuluoyi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 . . . 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ! — masterlist

you are the picture-perfect empress of eastern empire… until your husband the emperor, zen’in naoya, demands a divorce! but you won’t take this lying down . . .

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—kinda ooc, slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, marriage of convenience, heavy pining, mentions of infidelity, infertility, misogyny, pregnancy, explicit smut, childbirth, curses

note: inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress

more: emperor gojo | emperor naoya | official fanart | ko-fi

status: completed

:: 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 ::

001 — 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 ! in which your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress… but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you! and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

002 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 ! in the wake of your scandalous divorce, you fall into the arms of emperor gojo satoru. for a while, you believe you have found love… until it becomes clear that your new husband is scheming behind your back! love, marriage, divorce… are you doomed to go through this path the second time?

003 — 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 ! the path of love is never easy for you, be it now or back then. love, pain, betrayal and tragedy — you have been through them all. after all is said and done, you just want one chance at happiness. so will your second marriage be what you always want it to be, or will it be one last heartbreak you have to go through?

:: 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ::

you — empress of eastern empire. formerly a noble lady from an acclaimed clan and then made a crown princess of eastern empire to marry your childhood friend, naoya

gojo satoru — emperor of western empire. previously known as the "cursed prince" for being blind during a period of his childhood. for the longest time, he has been in love with you

zen'in naoya — emperor of eastern empire. your first love, crown prince naoya, wasn't the spiteful emperor who divorces you during the 5th year of your marriage, but the throne seems to shape his ambitions the longer he sits there. has he loved you all this time, you ask? dunno, only he knows

hanabi — naoya's mistress. your head maidservant ever since your marriage to naoya, she is actually compliant and doesn't seem to hold any malice against you. she bears his child, and elevated to the rank of royal consort

geto suguru — the duke. a neat and proper person, emperor gojo's peer, confidant and voice of reason. gojo claims he names his messenger cat (sugu-chan) after him out of love and respect

ieiri shoko — the countess. shoko, geto and gojo went to the imperial academy together, which is why she's so casual around both of them. after marrying gojo, she becomes your lady-in-waiting

:: 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒 ::

prequel: how sugu-chan the cat came to be

empress confronting hanabi (takes place in all hail the empress)

duke geto and the empress’ paintings: part 1 | part 2 | part 3

the empress’ dress visuals

behind the scenes: untold tales

🏷️ taglist

@myahfig4 @yoyo-yui @luna-v-roiya @animemanwhamangalover @hotvinimon @anpacax0 @fullwriterpoem @an-ever-angry-bi @tazuduck @alexatiu @washeduphasbeen @theiridescentdragon @aquamarine001 @saucypeanuttt @captainchrisstan @artist1936 @paprikaquinn @megumisthirdog @whatshernameis @moonjellyfishie @spn-obession @poopooindamouf @hhk-jyon @ittomain1 @kalulakunundrum @risuola @jossayuuu @wiccanindigo @alwaysfreakingout @a-trashbag @wannapizzamymindposts @roscpctals99 @chxrv @tnu-ree @sov-sin @estella-novella @homewhereitsat @manyno @coffeeluvr96 @taeminfaerie @inluvkai @mellowarcadefun @sxnkuna @nerdiellers @krokietino @tttttttf @dumb-hore @snore-3 @leopoldonfire @uziwork @hyori2 @gojoful @wr4inn @nnasv @oidloid @deeeeexx

© CHULUOYI. do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my works in any platforms

[fastandcarlos]

100% Whipped : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: lando is happy to do just about anything for you, which the other drivers are more than happy to remind lando about too

Lando looked around in confusion as sniggers came from around the room, his fellow drivers all looked at him in disbelief, many shaking their heads as he spoke once again. 

“There are other things we can talk about,” Max told him, smirking across at Lando opposite him. “We don’t constantly just have to talk about your girlfriend you know.” 

Lando’s brows furrowed in confusion as several others nodded in agreement with Max. It was a habit of his, and one he didn’t realise he had either, but the rest of the boys were all too aware of just how much Lando loved to talk about you, to anyone who listened. 

They couldn’t help but smile at how fondly Lando spoke of you, the way his smile turned up and his eyes got brighter whenever the conversation was about you. As much as they loved knowing that Lando was happy, they didn’t need telling quite as much as they currently were. 

“I don’t just talk about her,” Lando argued, but as the others rolled their eyes, Lando wasn’t quite so confident that he didn’t talk about you as much as they all suggested. 

Although he would never admit just how much he adored you, Lando knew that he had been falling hard for you. He loved to gush about you and make sure that everyone else got to see what he saw in you, how kind, caring and funny you were. 

The rest of the paddock knew that anyway, but Lando liked to make extra sure that was the case with all of his stories about you. 

“Every time she’s not at a race you sit and complain that she’s not there and how much you need her,” Oscar spoke up, “she’s all we talk about on a race weekend.” 

“Or when she is there, you refuse to let her out of your sight because you want to make sure that she’s alright,” George added, smirking across at Lando, “you don’t let her lift a finger.” 

More and more stories came out as the boys all interjected with the moments that they’d experienced with Lando, seeing firsthand just how in love with you he was. 

“I’m just being a good boyfriend,” Lando tried to argue once they eventually fell silent, but even Lando was beginning to realise that he went above and beyond, constantly. 

“I think you know how she’s going to spend her day better than she does,” Daniel responded, unable to hold back his laughter. “You used to tell me every day exactly what she was up to, almost as if you knew where she was minute by minute.” 

“Really?” Lando asked in surprise, not realising quite how much attention to detail he paid when it came to what you were doing. 

“You don’t even realise that you’re doing it half the time.” 

Lando’s stature shrunk, sinking down in his seat. “I promise that I’m not as whipped as you guys all probably think I am, it’s not that bad.” 

“You are,” Carlos stated, sending Lando a knowing look, “but I guess most of the time it is quite sweet.” 

“Aside from the fact that you make the rest of us look like terrible boyfriends,” Charles added. 

Lando struggled to hold back his smile, although it wasn’t a competition, he knew that the two of you were a popular couple around the paddock. He felt like he was the standard, showing the others how to take care of your girlfriend properly and not care about what anyone else had to say about it. 

“I wonder if she realises how whipped you are for her or whether she’s just used to it all by now,” Oscar spoke up, looking pensively across at Lando. 

“I think Y/N is just as whipped for him as Lando is for her,” Daniel very quickly argued, “you should’ve heard some of the conversations we had about him when I was on the team.” 

A smile emerged on Lando’s face as some of the boys nodded in agreement again. They were used to listening to you talk about Lando just as much, talking through how amazing his races were time after time as if they hadn’t been there to experience it themselves. 

“Would you guys like me to stop talking about Y/N so much?” Lando asked them all. 

The group felt quite guilty as Lando stared seriously across at them all. They all knew that he meant it, glancing between themselves as their heads all shook back across at him. 

“We’re only messing with you buddy,” George assured him, tapping against his shoulders, “maybe we just don’t need to know every single last detail about her.” 

Lando nodded, smiling back across at George. “I’m sure I can tone it down a little bit, the last thing I need is you guys all thinking that I’m whipped.” 

“Mate, we all definitely know that you are though.” 

He could try to deny it all he wanted, but the boys all knew what he was like. It was something in him that they were never going to change, but as such a popular member of the team, it meant a lot to all of them to see how happy he was with you. 

“Don’t even try and deny it,” Max called out as Lando went to speak again, “wear it with pride, some people would kill to have the sort of relationship that the two of you have.” 

“Do you really think that?” 

“Of course,” Max smiled back across at him, “you know we’re always going to find something to tease you about, you’re still very much the baby of the grid to all of us.” 

It didn’t matter how old Lando was, the boys were all very protective of him, and as much as they took every chance to make fun of him, they’d never let anyone else say a bad word about him. 

“You just continue to do you,” Carlos smiled as he met Lando’s eyes, “some of these guys are never going to even get a girlfriend, so at least you’ve got that over them at least.” 

“None of you can ever mention this to her,” Lando told them all, “do you know how embarrassed she be knowing that you guys see us as whipped for one another.” 

Just like Lando, you were very aware of how whipped he was for you, but if anyone suggested that you were whipped for him, then you would categorically deny it. You knew how much he’d do for you though, savouring the feeling of Lando willingly doing absolutely anything to support you. 

“We’ll keep it between us,” Oscar promised him, “unless she keeps stealing the chocolate I keep in the garage for once the races are finished. If that carries on, I’m making no promises.” 

“I’ll buy you more,” Lando assured him, “just don’t tell her how whipped I am, or how whipped you guys seem to think that I might be.” 

“Just admit it,” Charles laughed, brushing a hand through his hair. “Admit that you’re whipped for her, it’s not like we don’t already know it already.” 

“Will you leave me alone if I say it?” Lando asked them all. 

“We promise to leave you alone for the rest of the night.” 

“Fine, I am 100% whipped for my girlfriend.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[blackkatdraws2]

[Toon x Mobster] Chapter 2: A Toon's Aid

Previously // Next - (chapter list)

[contains: BLOOD / INJURY]

The small bathroom was quiet except for the occasional droplets of water from the leaky faucet. The Grim man sat on the closed toilet lid, tense, yet worn down from his nasty injuries.

Jack sat on a stool in front with a needle and thread in hand, his face taut with stress and concentration as beads of sweat slid down his forehead, trying his best to sew the wound as cleanly as he could.

He interrogates the Toon with a list of short, yet straightforward questions. They've been at it for a while now, the scarred man's cold eyes staying locked on Jack for any suspicious movements as he spoke.

“Who are you?”

"Jack Desmond, sir." He winces as the needle pierces through the edge of the wound. "I'm an office worker at-"

"Where am I?"

"C-Cel City. It's one of the- ow." Jack tugs on the strings and closes a part of the wound, cringing in sympathy at how painful it looked. "Sorry…" He habitually apologizes, feeling bad for any discomfort he might've caused the other, before continuing his sentence. "It's one of the biggest cities here, only second to Doodleheart Center."

As Jack continues to trail off giving the man some background information, the Grim man's stare slowly starts to gravitate towards the Toon’s hands. His eyes followed the way they would pause mid-air, trying to steady them from shaking, before going back to sewing carefully.

His brows furrow at this. It was unclear whether it was out of displeasure or something else, his expression as unreadable as ever, even during this painful procedure.

"What do you hope to gain from this?"

Jack blinked, looking up at the man's eyes with a startled look on his face. Then he furrows his brows, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Nothing..?" He answers, sounding just as questioning about his own decision as the other was. Then he sighs, pausing his task to think of a proper answer.

"To be honest, I... didn't want to bring you here at first." He angled his gaze downwards, feeling heavy with guilt at admitting to his real feelings and scared of how the other man might react. "I mean, you were scary and obviously not from around here," he fidgets with the needle in his fingers as he recounts his terrifying first encounter with the man, "so I meant to just call the authorities on you or something' n' leave..."

"But." Jack lifts his head up to look back at the other. Mixed within the nervousness in his eyes was genuine care. "You just looked like you needed help, so..."

The Grim man's gaze narrowed. Cold sweat continued to creep down the side of Jack's face as he swallowed his saliva, but he didn't look away, fearful that his true intentions may get deemed disingenuous by the other as he stared at him.

...

....

After a while, the Grim man heaves a deep sigh and looks away, seemingly done with his interrogation. Jack's tense frame relaxed the moment the man's eyes were off of him, inhaling in relief before quickly huffing the air back out in disgust as the smell of blood assaulted his nose. Right: the wound.

He went back into stitching, and the room was quiet after that.

Trying not to pay any mind to the silence, Jack's attention eventually began to zone in on the task at hand.

While working on the nasty wound, Jack internally thanked the stars for still being able to remember the important stuff that got taught to him years ago in school.

For a Genre with healing properties as ridiculous as theirs, all Toon citizens must have knowledge on basic medical care. Or at the very least, they must be able to aid wounded individuals in case of emergencies. It's mandatory to be taught in schools, some teaching it as early as Elementary.

Jack's memory on this is vague by this point since it's been such a long time ago. Apparently, a lot of the practices being tested and mastered back then were cultivated mostly to care for the people outside of their own Genre.

Aside from a few mixed-Genres here and there, Jack had grown up in a largely Toon-populated area with little to no contact to the other Genres outside his own. He briefly learned about non-Toon people being far more vulnerable to injuries than they were. Not having met one his entire life, he hadn’t quite grasped the severity of it all until he saw this man dying in that alleyway. It horrified him to see how much a person can be hurt to such an extreme degree.

He didn’t know what happened to the other man in order for him to end up in such a situation, and he didn’t have enough courage to ask him to be honest. But the thought that he may have gotten injured in a city of Toons of all places - and in an area near where he lived at that - made his heart brew with fear.

What happened? Was it an accident? Did he do this to himself? Did somebody injure him? Were there other victims? Is this place still safe?

It was an unending waterfall of thoughts and the uncertainty of it all made him feel a tad bit too afraid. He didn’t want to think about it. Not for now at least.

Honestly, if Jack had been any less reassured in his ability to at least be able to stop the heavy bleeding, he wouldn't have even thought of taking the wounded man into his apartment.

Jack did his best to finish it up as quickly as he could, though not hastily as his nerves might do more unneeded damage, imagining how much in pain the man was probably in right now.

Snip.

The thread gets cut off with a small scissor. And with that, they were done!

"Phew." Jack stretches, popping a few joints that had become tense from having to keep them steady in the air for so long. He gives the newly stitched wound a hard look, examining it.

...Still red and angry, but no more bleeding. He knows he's largely inexperienced, but he hopes this is good enough.

With that out of the way, he now had to deal with the man himself who had returned to staring at him again a while ago. The side of Jack's mouth curved up into a smile without his control, looking more like a grimace at being observed so intently by such a scary individual.

"So, uh..." His voice wobbled. He clears his throat and stands up, walking to the sink and turning on the faulty faucet to wash off the stain on his hands, struggling to appear more casual. "May I ask for your name, sir?" Jack tries to start a conversation to lessen the tension that's been building between them since the man woke up.

The other's expression doesn't shift. After a beat of silence that stretched on for a bit too long, he spoke.

“No.”

'Yep, I figured as much.' He thought to himself. "Right," Jack chuckles, drained of the usual humor he carried.

To be honest, he felt a bit tired after all of that. He could really use a quick nap right now… Jack could only hope that this (probably a) criminal guy is at least nice enough to not murder him before he falls asleep.

Turning off the stream of water, he flicks the water off his hands and turns to leave. "Well,” he notes, “feel free to help yourself here. I'll go and get you something clean to wear." He then exits the bathroom, now done with the conversation he was attempting to have.

Pushing aside how he probably hadn't been following a lot of medical rules and regulations taught to (and forgotten by) him years ago, with all the scars on that guy, he's assuming that it's probably fine to just leave him be for now, right? Surely a violence-prone-looking man like that would already know how to take care of himself when he's hurt, right? He sure hopes so. He doesn’t wanna come back to a dead body.

With that thought, Jack goes off to retrieve the clothes he had left for him by the nightstand.

"..."

Gavriel sat in silence in the bathroom, the soft hum of the distant city and the ambience of the Toon’s neighbors filtering through the walls. He was now left on his own, leaving him to reflect on the situation.

Shifting slightly, he grimaced as pain flared through his side and throughout the rest of his body. The stitches pulled, a stark reminder that he wasn’t in any shape to defend himself if something went wrong. Not that it mattered. If the Toon wanted him dead, he’d already had the chance to let him bleed out.

Why hadn’t he?

That thought didn’t bring comfort to him, only deepening his unease. The Toon’s actions were naively kind, something which he understood yet hesitated to accept.

So far, the other hadn’t given him any suspicious answers. Every question Gavriel had asked were met with genuine - albeit bumbling - honesty. The nervous man stuttered more often than not, but he hadn’t hesitated, nor had he tried to deflect or go off topic. The only weird thing happening right now was the fact that the Toon was helping him.

This behavior didn’t seem to come from a place of deception and ulterior motives. Or perhaps it did, and Gavriel just couldn’t see it yet.

In the bathroom, Gavriel could hear the other’s voice phasing through the thin apartment walls. Though his words were muffled, he sounded mournful with phrases like, "I spent money on that..." and "Tsk, tsk. What a waste." followed by a heavy sigh.

Gavriel pressed his lips into a thin line. Despite himself, the lament struck a chord.

Money and food. Those were two of the main things a person must never waste in their life. This lesson had been deeply ingrained deep into his very bones even as a child, who had the misfortune of growing up facing the struggles of being in the slums. Food was scarce, money even scarcer. People fought and killed over it, and so did he.

For him, life wasn’t for living back then, it was survival. Then, he grunts, feeling the insistent throbbing on his freshly sewn side, spreading throughout his entire torso. Well, he supposed some things haven’t exactly changed that much.

Gavriel hears the gentle pitter patter of the Toon’s feet. He appears a moment after, quietly stepping into the bathroom with the clothes in hand. He glanced at Gavriel, who was still seated on the toilet, and carefully placed the clothes on the dry part of the sink’s edge, not having much space to put them anywhere else. His movements were quick but not rushed, clearly trying to avoid intruding too much on the other man’s space.

"Here," the Toon said softly. "The clothes I left for you. I can get you something else if these aren’t... comfortable,” he offers, looking at how much smaller the size of his own t-shirt was compared to Gavriel’s body.

He glances at Gavriel briefly before looking down at the floor, the tension in the room thick, but Jack manages a kind, almost awkward smile.

"I’ll… leave you to it then." Without waiting for a response, the Toon does a polite little head bow before turning on his heel and leaving the bathroom. He even made sure to gently close the door behind him, leaving Gavriel to change in peace.

Gavriel turned his attention to the clothes Jack had left neatly folded on the edge of the sink. Standing up, he walks over to inspect the clothes given to him. They looked cheap and would probably be a bit too tight for him to wear but it was better than staying cold and bare.

He glanced back toward the door, his brows furrowing. The Toon hadn’t lingered, hadn’t said anything besides the brief statement that the clothes were for him, nor were there any lectures, insistence, or attempts to force a conversation. Just a quiet exit. Probably to clean up the mess Gavriel had left in the other room, he guessed.

Gavriel shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t used to people like that Toon. People who gave generously without any strings attached or wanting something back, people who respected him, not like the wariness of his enemies or the reverence of his underlings, but simply out of basic human decency - albeit with reasonable fear. The Toon… Jack Desmond was painfully normal, perhaps a touch too kind for his own good.

His mind wandered to Desmond’s face earlier. The nervous and awkward glances, the apologetic grimaces when the needle went through his flesh, and the reluctance to meet his eyes, yet his determination to keep helping despite the tension. It had been... odd. Gavriel couldn’t pinpoint what irritated him more. Desmond’s clumsy kindness or the fact that it seemed genuine.

Gavriel sighed, his breath heavy with the weight of his thoughts. His fingers tightened around the clothes.

Special thanks to @demonicrhythms for proofreading this chapter.

For now, staying here and recuperating wasn’t the worst plan.

_

Previously // Next - (chapter list)