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#AND THIS IS WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE ON MISSIONS AND SHIT WORKING WITH HUMANS
thenntrewrite · 3 months
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I finally gave life to human versions of Meliodas and Ban in the form of busts!
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churipu · 8 months
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YOU SLEEPING ON A COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro x reader
note. i hv so many ideas right now apart from what i'm actually supposed to be focusing on, so...pls excuse me.
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GOJO SATORU. arguments with gojo are a pain in the ass, he's petty and everything will be a mess. he's so stubborn that it actually baffles you sometimes — and he calls you rock head?
being a sorcerer is never an easy job. gojo wakes up every day, not knowing whether he'd die in a mission or get to live another day. so when you brought up your concerns about it to him, the male didn't take it lightly. things have been tight for him, and you're walking on eggshells for the past few days.
the slightest thing angered him, like how his sleeve got stuck on the door handle, or the way he curses out loudly when he stubs his toe on the coffee table. it puts him in a shitty mood, so when that happens, and you try to talk to him about his job.
gojo gets very pissy about it.
frankly, you understood where his anger comes from. and it was part of your fault to bother him the moment he came back from work exhausted, it was bound to happen so you weren't really blaming him at all from the projecting of his anger to you the night before — he didn't say hurtful things, gojo knew better than that. all he did was tell you to leave him alone and get out of his sight for the night.
and you did. sleeping alone on the couch, all sprawled out, an arm dangling on the edge; while a string of drool dribbled down the corner of your lips.
you seemed to not mind having to sleep on the couch (under your own want). but your boyfriend did, the moment he knew your bed time strikes — he came out of the room and eyed your sleeping form. guilt washing over him when all you did was care about his being and how dangerous the jujutsu world is.
gojo approaches you and gently carried you in his arms, an arm right under your bottom and his other arm around your waist. hoisting you up like a baby as your cheek leaned onto his shoulder, letting the drool blotch his shirt. he doesn't care at all.
the male tucks you in the bed, pulling the covers over you before slipping next to you, chest pressed to your back and an arm resting on your hip. gojo will never let you sleep a whole night on the couch, he will bring you to sleep with him and apologize the very next day for being such an ass.
he also, tried to make it up to you by cooking a classic english breakfast. which ended up in chaos — and you both decided to order take out instead.
GETO SUGURU. geto is usually calm and collected; he doesn't really get angry at anything. even if he does, he mostly keeps it to himself unless it really bothers him. but since humans have certain capacities to their own emotion — geto is not spared from being angry, no matter how calm he is.
after the death of amanai, you could feel him change. your geto. it was traumatizing for him, and you understood. always being there for him, never leaving him alone. the dark circles under his eyes were apparent, and it looked like he hasn't had a good night sleep for what seemed like . . . weeks, or months, if that's even possible.
geto appreciated your company, really. but sometimes, he also wanted to be left alone to dwell on his feelings. he didn't want to end up saying hurtful things to you because he was so angry at himself. but he did, and god was it horrible.
he was already feeling like shit before the argument— which if you see, wasn't really an argument at all. it was one-sided, geto was telling you off and you didn't say anything back. because you knew he didn't mean it. he almost desperately begged for you to leave him alone because your presence was "annoying" him and he couldn't stand it.
although geto said it in a heap of moment. he didn't mean it, and before he could say anything else, you tell him that you were going to be sleeping on the couch, so if he needed anything he was free to come to you.
geto didn't stop you. he was busy hating on himself for telling you that — and believe me when i say that he, right there, almost cried out of frustration.
he tossed and turned on his bed. where you were usually on too, beside him, holding his hand whilst he sleep. your hushed voice lulling him into a peaceful slumber; but you weren't there today, all because he told you to leave him alone. geto sat up, his eyelids heavy, but no matter how long he shut is, they always open back up.
with slow and heavy steps, he approaches you on the couch. and geto had always knew that you were a light sleeper, so his footsteps awoken you. seeing your eyes flutter open, geto slid on the couch, laying himself on top of you — head on your chest, arms clutching onto your shirt like he's desperate for your presence, and his legs intertwining with yours.
getos' hushed apologies were heard as he leaned into your warmth, and you told him that you were never angry. brushing his hair, massaging his scalp using your fingertips before lulling him to sleep, and geto did. almost immediately. and so did you.
he could never sleep without you. whether it being on the bed, the couch, or anywhere else — as long has you were with him, he will find the ability to drift off.
TOJI FUSHIGURO. is an ass. let's face it — he wouldn't give a fuck if you decided to sleep on the couch after an argument, at least for the first couple of hours. toji is a blunt man, and he's a sole believer that nobody could bear sleeping on the couch when there's a bed in the house.
but you were there to prove him wrong.
after an argument going south, he finds you grabbing your pillow and then seeking shelter on the couch. and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, knowing you'd come crawling back on the mattress after a few hours — because who'd choose the couch over the bed?
you. apparently.
he slept without a single care, thinking of words to say when you finally decided to come back on the bed. but when he woke up at three am, his arm searching to find your body, but realizing all he was catching was air — he finally realized that you weren't coming back onto the bed.
and it annoyed him. he was angry that you weren't there. and at three am? he was already wide awake, walking out of the room angrily. but his gaze softened when he saw you asleep, the constant flashing light from the television panning on your body; toji walks over, snatches the remote and turns the device off.
letting out a soft sigh, toji squats down, flicking your forehead. and the action was enough to make you grimace lightly in your sleep — although not enough to wake you up completely. the male chuckled and prepped an arm under the hollow under your knees, and an arm across your shoulder.
with ease he brought you into your shared room and he laid you down on the bed, covering your body with the blanket before he slips into his own portion of the bed. scooting closer to you as you instinctively nuzzled into his chest, seeking for comfort.
toji wouldn't admit that he was the one who brought you into the bed and would end up saying how you came crawling back at three am. you always find out the truth though, and toji tells you to forget about whatever he did because he won't be doing it again (he will).
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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messylustt · 1 year
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౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 1.3k words
fic masterlist pt one next part
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i’ve gotten some help with my spanish and have approved/fixed accordingly (if you have any suggestions on the spanish please speak up!); enemies to lovers trope; not obvious, but subtle jealous miguel; human(not spider-person)!reader; spanish term of endearment ‘chaparrita’ — miguel o’hara has never liked you—a human—joining the team as the ‘person in the chair’. he’s made his distaste for you clear. but when he speaks certain spanish words you don’t understand, he reveals that his annoyance of you is by the fact that you make him feel ‘hot’. soon, a deal surfaces, his promotion benefitting you both.
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Miguel watches as you fiddled with the different tech machines, tapping with a focused gaze. He tilted his head, staying by the large spider, having spread out screens filled with the many mission's info.
He had a slight scowl on his face, his expression usually one considered moody. But this time he had a reason for it. You.
You were a pain to Miguel, far too nice to every spider-person. He hadn't liked having you here the moment a few of them recommended you. They described you as the 'person in the chair'. You were smart, sure, but Miguel didn't think you belonged here. You weren't a spider-person like the rest of them, you were human.
He jumped down, landing beside you. You look to your left, having to tilt your head up at his sheer height. You gulp. You've always been nervous around Miguel O'hara. You didn't think he once smiled, his gaze only seeming to harden, especially when you would speak.
So, you kept it minimal. Only talking to him when it was required. "O'hara." You nod, turning quickly back to your work. "Anything I can help you with?"
"Nothing you can help with, y/l/n." His small jab at your inability in many areas, such as swinging from buildings with web, made you straighten your spine.
You ignore his tone, again not daring to meet his gaze. "Then, I'm sure Jessica will be here soon to help with anything."
Miguel's eyes wander your stiff posture. He could tell that he made you nervous, and part of him relished in that. It helped him think that you knew your place.
When you noticed that he wasn't leaving, you go to say something else, when Hobie and Peter burst into the room. Both yours and Miguel's attentions shift. Hobie easily moves towards you, making you smile. He reached his hand out as you did what many would call a typical 'bro handshake'. But Hobie instead chose to call something far from normality, in his prominent british accent.
Hobie was one of the ones who recommended you for this job. And you've been beyond grateful since.
"How's ya bloody borin’ shit goin’?" Hobie asks, leaning down to see whatever nonsense you had typed up.
"Describe 'boring shit'." You say, your tone turning smug.
He scoffs, eyeing the screen again, before giving up and grabbing your chin to turn back to the tech. "Keep working."
You chuckle, just as Miguel speaks. "Aren't you supposed to be out?"
Hobie looks to Miguel, straightening his guitar strap. "What—should I start callin’ ya boss, and kissin’ ya boots?"
Hobie has always been one to 'do his own thing' and completely bypass the rules. Miguel looks unimpressed, as Hobie holds his hands up in fake innocence. Peter chimes in. "He doesn't wear boots."
Hobie glances at him. "Thanks Peter. I didn't know."
Peter doesn't have time to respond before he's running after his swinging daughter. "Just get back to work." Miguel says. "That includes you, Peter. And didn't I say not bring her here?" He sounds exasperated, as he pinches the bridge between his nose.
You spin in your seat watching as Peter sends back a 'sorry', as he disappears, running through the large exit door. Hobie is quick to follow sending you a nod and a smile.
You wave them off, feeling the tension flood back into the room now that it's just you and Miguel again. You swiftly spin back in your chair, your fingers going back to tapping, as your legs spread comfortably.
Miguel looks back at you, before running his hand down his face, muttering. "No abras las piernas como una invitación." (Don't open your legs like an invitation.)
You pause, glancing at him. "What was that?"
He glances back at you, eyeing your confused expression. You, of course, didn't know spanish.
He places his hands against the desk, leaning a fraction closer to you, his gaze fluttering across your features. "Podría decirte cualquier cosa en español y no sabrías lo que quiero decir." (I could say anything to you in Spanish and you wouldn't know what I mean.)
"You know I don't know spanish." You mutter.
"I know. And the thought of you being so unaware, makes me want to tell you..." He leans closer to your ear, making your pulse beat rapidly. "....cuanto me haces arder, cariño. (how much you make me burn inside.) And it’s beyond annoying.”
You sigh, pushing slightly away from him. "Look, I know you find me annoying." You begin. "That's fine. But just...can you at least give me somewhat of a chance?"
"Do to what?" He asks, crossing his arms, as he leans back against the desk.
"To prove I'm helpful."
"Helpful?" Miguel asks, tilting his head. "You want to be helpful?"
"Of course."
"Then find a more suitable job." He stands to walk away.
"If you want me gone, then why don't you fire me?"
He pauses for a moment. "Sadly, I need a proper reason for that. So, if you want to be helpful to me. Then fuck something up."
"But while you're here being useless you should probably learn spanish." Miguel says as he walks out the door.
You huff, staring after him, watching as his back muscles contracted in a way that made you look away, gulping. Fucking Miguel O'hara.
;;
You sit, feet up by the tech, as you tapped away on your phone. You got a congratulatory 'ding' whenever you got a word or sentence right, and a rather loud 'booing' sound when you got a word or sentence wrong.
Yes, you're trying to learn Spanish. You sadly hadn't remembered word for word what Miguel had said to you, so you couldn't put it through translation. He must have purposefully spoken fast so you wouldn't have time to catch each word and remember.
'Me gusta ir al museo.' Your phone spoke. It translated to 'I like going to the museum' You had gotten it wrong, putting ‘park’ instead.
You groan, your head knocking back as your eyes shut in annoyance. You were only smart in certain areas. You let your phone drop to the desk, as you stretch, keeping your eyes shut tight, as if you could find the Spanish language hidden behind them.
"Spanish?" A deep voice spoke, making you jump, swiftly getting to your feet and spinning.
Miguel stands in his signature spider suit, your phone in his grasp. "I didn't think you'd actually listen to me."
You snatch it back, switching it off, as you scratch the back of your neck. "I was just..." You drift off sighing. "I like this job."
Miguel watches you closely. "You're committed, I'll give you that."
You smile, the word 'progress' swirling in your brain. "I learnt a sentence." You say, brows creasing in remembrance. "Me gusta...ir al...musio?" (I like going...to the...musio?) You say this more so as a question as you meet the amused gaze of Miguel.
"Ir al museo." (To the museum) He corrects, knowing the generic 'hobbies' sentences most kids learn.
"…I was close." You say, smiling, before you realise who you're talking to, your nerves returning.
Miguel nearly kicked himself for feeling warm at the small smile that you gave. You were trying to learn spanish—loosely—for him. "Can I make you a deal?" He suddenly asks.
You narrow your eyes a fraction. "What kinda deal?"
"One where we can help each other." He mutters, stepping closer. "You want to stay, correct?"
You nod.
"Then you're gonna have to convince me that you'd do anything for a mission."
You straighten, eyes widening at the chance to prove your worth. "I lead most missions, so loosely, you'd have to do anything for me."
He's much, much closer, eyeing you. "But we can make this a ‘give and take’. Let me teach you Spanish—something you'll need working here, close by me, and in return for every lesson, you have to do something for me."
You eye him. "Like what?"
"Anything." He answers. "Because you'll have to do anything that's required for those missions. Call it practice, or proving your worth, chaparrita."
You lick your lips thinking. You can't see anything inherently wrong with this 'deal', so you nod. And that earns you the very first smile you've seen from Miguel O’hara.
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i know this is short, but I just wanted to see if any of you guys would be interested in a full fic like this…
also if you would like to be in a taglist for this story — just comment
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buckyalpine · 9 months
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Some shy Bucky with meddling Sam and Steve and a cute little baker. 
Bucky hummed at the warm drink that danced on his tongue, a new creation that the sweet girl at the bakery had insisted he try. He wasn’t big on experimenting but ever since he’d visited the shop, he couldn’t say no to the human form of sunshine that stood behind the counter, always offering him something new to she’d made. Today, the flavors of vanilla and praline were infused in his coffee, your latest combination you had made just for him.
“So, thoughts?” You smiled hopefully, the twinkle in your eyes making Bucky blush like a school boy. 
“It’s delicious doll, thank you” He slid you a 5, shaking his head when you tried to give him back change, “Keep it, if anything I should be paying you more for something that good”
You giggled, waving goodbye to the handsome super soldier as he left, the dainty bell to the door of your shop ringing on his way out. What started off as a one time thing became a daily occurrence; Bucky would go for a morning walk or run and stop by the bakery before making his way back. He enjoyed his new routine, getting a coffee, talking to the angel that worked there, grabbing a cookie, getting to see her smile, trying a new drink, fuck, that sweet laugh. 
Now that it was getting warmer, you’d started to introduce him to cold drinks with fruit flavors and different colors. It had been almost three months since he’d first visited; your bakery was a sold part of his day now and he going to change it any time soon. 
“I’ll be able to open a whole new shop with how much you keep tipping me Jamie” you shook your head while he chuckled, sliding the change back to you. 
“Well if there's anyone that deserves it, it’s you” The smirk he gave you caused butterflies to fly madly around your tummy; you had no business crushing on the handsome soldier but he made it so hard! 
Bucky couldn’t stop smiling as he walked back to the compound, humming to himself with another new creation of yours to try. He wouldn’t quite remember the name of what you’d given him but he loved it nonetheless, adoring the sprinkles you added on top just because. 
"I thought you only drank black coffee” Sam cocked an eyebrow from where he was sitting in the kitchen as Bucky walked in, seeing the bright pink and blue drink the brunette was holding. A shit eating grin made it’s way to his face while Bucky groaned.
“Don’t start-
“Who is she. C’mon, big grumpy, staring machine like you drinking unicorn in a cup?” 
“There is no she” Bucky hissed while Sam raised his hands in defeat, not the least bit convinced. 
“Whatever you say” 
One nosy, sneaky Sam and Steve mission later,
“For fucks sake, Dear God” Bucky groaned seeing his two best friends already sitting at the counter chatting up his angel, both men grinning when they heard Bucky walk in. 
“Hi Jamie!” you smiled while Steve chuckled to himself seeing the brunette glower at them. 
“Awww, hi Jamie” Sam cooed, making a kissy face that Bucky would’ve smacked off if you weren’t standing right there. “We didn’t know you came to this place” 
“Jamie comes here all the time” You smiled, making his regular order while Bucky huffed, his annoyance melting away watching you flit behind the counter, handing him his coffee and a fresh cookie. 
“Does he now” Steve snorted, looking at Bucky watching you with heart eyes, 
“Y’know, y/n was saying she wanted to see that movie you’ve been going on about” Sam stated, nudging Bucky’s shoulder, “You know the one you’ve been dying to see too? Maybe you could both go. Thanks for the coffee y/n” 
Bucky stared at Sam with panicked wide eyes, the pink on his cheeks spreading to his neck and ears. Sam and Steve made their way out while Steve gave Bucky’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze along with a knowing smile. 
Go for it. 
“You - wouldn’t-with me- would-would you want to?” He sputtered out while you giggled with a nod making him relax. “Sorry, it’s been so long” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, collecting himself. “and my friends are idiots” 
“I’d love you” you whispered, leaning over to give he blushing soldier a peck on his cheek.
“It’s a date, doll” Bucky winked, loving the bashful smile you gave him, his charming self slowly coming back. He’d eventually owe Sam and Steve $20 each when they end up being the best men at his wedding but it would be worth it. 
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evilminji · 7 months
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You know all those Cults in Gotham?
Bet at least ONE of them could spring for both a Legit Magic User and a Cloning pod.
Because The Wayne's? Hearts of Gold. Long standing pains in the asses. Probably the only thing standing between this gods forsaken wasteland of a city and Their Dark Lord. For GENERATIONS no less!
It's sooooo obnoxious!
So they want to Curse Um dead. Just a good ol fashioned bloodline curse. Destroy um from within, etc. BUT! To do THAT? You kinda need a blood relative to sacrifice!
And Bruce is... well... rather infamously An Orphan With No Biological Kids (at that point).
So? What do you do? Make one, obviously. You send in some of your own on a Holy Mission. Honeypot that playboy! Get us a kid to sacrifice! Our God will reward you etc! But... FFS! What? Are brunettes not your TYPE or something?! Pretty lady! Throwing herself at you!!
TAKE THE BAIT!
But he DOESN'T. Because he's both really used to that behavior, as The Wayne Heir and a False Playboy, AND because? He's fuckin Batman. He can see through your schemes.
Okay.
Okay!
Plan B!
Get us some DNA. We'll CLONE the sucker. That should be doable, right?
........OH COME ON! How?!
Batman: [REDACTED] / Cultists: 0
Fuck it! This is impossible! How are we supposed too... *eyes drift over to the Wayne Family Private Graveyard* .......Idea? Ideeeeaaaa~! Someone get us a shovel!
So they, cultist bastards that they are? Fuckin rob a grave for some DNA.
OBVIOUSLY though, it can't be one of the more RECENT graves! He probably VISITS those! Watches them! No we gotta be SNEAKY! Get one a bit further back! Mwahahahaha! We're so brilliant! Our God is gonna give us SUCH a Good Grade in follower!
A thing that is both REAL and possible to achieve!
So, while a Weirdly FURIOUS Batman? Is just... VIOLENTLY breaking ALL of their bones? Cultist 17 is furiously digging like his life depends on it. Either somebody snitched or Batman was hunting them down! Either way?
Gotta! Get! That! DNA!!! *digs faster*
Ah HA! Got it!
Fucking SCATTER! Run you fools, RUN!!! *everyone bolts*
And AT LAST! They have it! Wayne DNA! Now? Pop that sucker into the machine and make us a baby! Too sacrifice! *relieved noises* Man, that was hard work you guys. But we DID it!
Except??
Theoretical Babies? And "Real, slowly forming in front of me and becoming a human child" type babies? VERY DIFFERENT psychologically. It's ONE thing to sacrifice a HYPOTHETICAL baby... but when you're the guy running and monitoring the Cloning machine? Watching it slowly form and come together into... into a CHILD?
You start asking questions of yourself. Of God.
Of what, EXACTLY, you are willing to do.
What lines you find yourself unwilling to cross.
And yeah, your life was SHIT before the cult. Yeah, you were alone. Adrift. Without purpose. Angry at the world for all of its ugliness and failings. But... sitting, alone, in a dark room? Nothing but the steady hum of machines and the cool light of that pod? You are left with nothing but time... and your thoughts.
And the baby.
The one... the one YOU made.
Almost... he's almost like a son, in a way. Your son. Floating there, innocent and unknowing. Destined to be born, only to die painfully, for a cause he could not even begin to understand. Because he's too young. Too small. Just... just a baby.
The baby YOU made.
Doubt seeps in like mist. Creeping into the cracks forming in your faith. Surely there's another way, right? Why not save up for a better magician? Or... or hire a hitman? Why involve a child? Surely... surely your God would not WANT this, right? Or if He did! Surely, he would want the boy to be able to CHOOSE, right? A noble sacrifice, for the cause?
The pressure builds. Batman is tearing the city APART looking for your fellow Believers. Leadership is pressuring you to get "It" ready all ready.
He's not an "it".
They are dismissing your questions. Threatening and posturing, as you grapple with your faith. Where? Where is the COMMUNITY that you joined? The camaraderie? Every day, Believers are being torn down. The faith has lost so many!
How can this be WORTH it?
Your faith is slowly, cruelly, strangled in your chest. A death, by ten thousand silences, and ten thousand more cruelties.
Your son is ready.
You do not tell them.
The Clone of Bruce Wayne's great-grandfather is small, but healthy, in your arms. A tiny warm body, with a strong beating little heart. You call the police. Leave your phone, call running, on the desk. No one thinks to stop you, as you calmly walk out the back door.
Why would they doubt?
You are Faithful.
You drive. Pray to a God you have lost faith in, beg forgiveness for what you do now. Your beat up old junker of a car makes decent time, as you leave Gotham. Your son, asleep in a carefully made nest of blankets, on the seat next to you. You drive. You keep driving.
Past towns.
Past cities.
Out of the state.
Stopping only to feed your son and fuel your car. You... you can not bring yourself to care about what will happen to you now. You know they will find you. Know this is the end. But something ancient burns in your chest. A caring you never thought was REAL.
You are afraid.
But you will not let them harm your son.
Finally, a town. Far from Gotham. Quite and cheerful. It calls to you.
Here. It... it has to be here.
You find the hospital. Tears choking you. There is a place to drop of children. You've seen them before. How strange, that now you stand before it and HURT. Your arms not listening to your command. You... you have to do this. You HAVE too.
He is just a baby.
He is your son.
You have to keep him safe. And... and that can not be with you.
You gently put your baby boy into the drop off. Press the buzzer. And then? You make yourself walk away.
Get back in your car, and drive. The gun in your glove box will insure they can never pry from you, what you have done. Where he is. He is safe now. He has to be. You... you did your job. As his father. You made sure he was safe.
You can barely see the road, through your tears.
You take your secrets to the grave.
And Danny? He grows up. Is adopted young and never knows different. Both a Fenton and a Wayne. Knowing only one of these, to be his. But... that Wayne? Was a damn fine man. A pillar of his community and a champion of the people.
Got tossed more then a few blessings, in his life.
They weren't the STRONGEST. But they added up. And more importantly? Were hardly the refined magics of the more powerful. They were cast onto "Him". By blood and bone, more often then not. Which was all well and good!
When there was only ONE of "Him".
Cloning technology did not exsist. So why would you word carefully against it? Danny becomes a VERY lucky boy. Survives many things he should not. In fact, the kindness and hard work of his original? Gifted back in magically powered well wishes? By this, he survives something NO ONE could possibly expect him too.
It saves his life.
His template would be quite pleased, knowing that. That his life of good deeds, saved the life of the child he never got a chance to meet. That it protected his children, from even beyond death.
And in Gotham? At long, long last. The program Bruce made in his helplessness and despair, to search EVERY child until the child made of his bloodline was found? Spits out a match.
A Watchtower engineer.
Daniel J. Fenton.
@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation
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thebestsetter · 1 month
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He has never been afraid of dying.
Death doesn't fright him. He sees it as a natural part of the cycle of life. One must be born, live their life, possibly reproduce so their species can keep on existing and then die. All animals, be it a big magnificient whale or a little insignificant ant, have to do this too. This is what they all have in common (and honestly, it's beautiful how all animals have to experience this. It brings humans and animals closer).
Everyone dies, be it the sinner or the saint, the rich or the poor. Death doesn't discriminate people. It just comes and takes everyone (which is kinda funny, since people think that money or looks make them different from the other. They don't. We're all equal. The bullet that kills the powerful is also capable of killing the weak). And frankly, he's okay with that. He knows it'll happen.
Given his work condition, he knows he's more inclined to die than the average person. Everyday, he has to go out there and risk his life, saving hundreds of people he doesn't even know and sometimes not even getting a "thank you" back. It's frustrating, but it's not like he's giving up. Before he dies, he wants to make this world a little bit better. It probably won't be much, but he still wants to feel useful. He wants to feel like he did something good.
"Oh God! You're okay! You're really okay! I was so worried about you!"
He doesn't fear death. Which is why he doesn't understand why he feels like crying when you visit him at the hospital he was staying at after a mission that went wrong. Death doesn't scare him, so he's not quite sure why his hands tremble when they reach to pat your head. He shouldn't react like this. He's never reacted this way before
"Please, don't ever do that again! Never ever!" Your grip in his waist tightens to the point where his lungs are burning for air, but he still doesn't want you to let go.
"You have no idea how scared I was. When the hospital called me saying you were here, I felt like my mind was going a hundred per hour! Please, don't die..."
How can you ask him this? You both know it's impossible. He's going to die one day, it can't be helped. You can't escape death's claws. No one can escape their funeral. You're torturing him. You know he doesn't like to lie to you. He can't just say "I won't die" cause it's simply not true!
"Please don't die" you repeat, and his hands movement comes to a halt "Because I'll be lonely if you die. Don't leave me alone, please."
And suddenly, it all makes sense.
He still isn't afraid of dying. But suddenly, the mention of death leaves an itching feeling at the back of his throat. It makes him sick thinking about you going on with your life, possibly mourning over his death for a long time (he doesn't ever want you to be sad, especially not because of him. Strangely, a sick, twisted part of him wants you to cry when he dies. To be sad. To not move on fastly. He quickly supresses those thoughts though) and then completely forgetting him and starting a new family (this thought makes him sick to the stomach. He feels like a very bad guy when thinking about how he doesn't want you to find another man to replace him. You always said he was irreplaceable after all).
He will forever be someone who was, not someone who is. He'll be lost in time, a name you'll mention once or twice on a conversation while smiling and thinking about the good times you had together.
He'll never hear your laugh and your voice again, will never take you out on extravagant dates and have movie nights watching silly movies and laughing at the special effects. Leaving you alone in this dangerous world feels almost criminal.
Death doesn't make him feel bad. Having you forget him after he dies makes him feel like absolute shit.
And so, even though he can't promise you that he won't die, he can promise one thing. He grabs one of your hands in his, looking at you as serious as he can be.
"You won't ever be alone." He says, and you feel like crying. He then smiles weakly "I promise. I love you. Our love is too strong to be stopped by death." He kisses your hand and then quotes the same sentence he uttered at your wedding day "Remember? 'And if death do us apart, I promise to find you in every other timeline.'"
And just like he did that day, he props up in the hospital bed and kisses you.
MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, ITADORI YUJI, Gojo Satoru, Inumaki Toge (or maybe I'm just a glazer ☹️), Nanami Kento (idk, I just feel like it fits him), TODOROKI SHOTO, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Ejirou, Izuku Midoriya, Aizawa Shota, HAWKS + any character you think fits this!!
~ A/N: this can be read as a sequel of another fic of mine. It also can be read on it's own though (but please, do check the other one if you're interested!!). Also, you can see some Hamilton songs' references here and there (cause I'm a theater kid 😔) AND this was inspired by a line in "Cowboy Beebop"
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teojira · 23 days
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[Click Click Boom] [Shadow x Reader short stories]
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Summary: You're set to be Shadow's companion to keep an eye on him and keep him in line, a courtesy from the goverment for him saving the world with Sonic and the others.
Word count: 1.8k
Warnings: Can be read as platonic or romantic! Shadow/reader romance is implied though! You're human in this, age is vague but you're meant to be in your 20s.
Disclaimer: Shadow is an adult, and as for the furry debate, he's literally an adult who can consent and is sentient, don't like? Don't read!
A/N: I've literally been obsessed with this fucker since I was a literal child and it's the first time I've written for him!! The trailer yas me going insane. This is written well before the movie has come out, literally all I got to work with is Shadow in the trailer and the bits and pieces of info I psychoanalized so I don't wanna hear shit about it not being accurate tbh, this is self indulgent!!
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Shadow isn't the worst task you've been assigned, you both are more akin to awkward roommates more than anything.
I'm talking randomly lingering in the corners of the room, his bright red eyes glowing and they always seemed to be locked right onto you.
You screamed the first dozen times, but now you just glare at the black hedgehog and spit out a "fuck you." and go about your business.
He'll never admit that it brings him infinite amusement, it's hard to tell, but the huff he lets out is evidence enough.
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Shadow will never admit he cares for you, he loses everyone he cares for, and humans don't live that long. It's terrifying to think about how much he's come to like you.
He's not nearly as slick as he thinks he is.
You're sitting down at the dinner table, typing away on your laptop, editing the mission report from the other day when Shadow makes his way towards you. Sending him a nod in his direction, you don't think of anything when he moves in close.
A huge slam takes you off guard though, jumping damn near out of your skin as you twist your head to look at him.
"What the fuck-"
"Take it."
It's one of Shadow's guns, his emblem being engraved along the stock.
"What? No, I have guns." You raise an eyebrow at the hog, his face is perfectly still, eyes locking onto yours as he waits for you to grab the heckler.
"Your guns are worthless, you need something better."
"Well excuse me, I so happen to like my guns." You try and joke back, but the offense is taken.
Shadow rolls his eyes so hard you're scared that he's gonna blind himself. Jutting his chin towards the table once more to get your focus back onto it.
"If you have one of mine, I know you're safe." He doesn't elaborate. Not that he needs to.
"...Thank you, Shad."
All you get is a grunt in response, and he's on his way back to his room.
Gingerly picking up the weapon, you take in how pristine it is, a thumb caressing your small initials that you missed on the other side of the stock.
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With Shadow saving the world, the reeking of havoc makes it to where he's limited to what he is allowed to do in the public eye.
Not that he listens, he isn't supposed to be out after curfew. But to be fair, it is extremely hard to keep a teleporting hedgehog confined to a meager two-story house.
You can hear him teleport above you, he's on the roofs of the nearby building, leering down at you.
It was a small errand you were on, simply stocking up on the essentials for the house.
Namely, snacks for Shadow, he doesn't ask for a lot other than coffee beans and Doritos.
You are choosing to ignore the fact that he eats the coffee beans straight up, the crunch echoes through your head and it sends a shudder down your spine.
He was adamant against you leaving the house this late, standing in front of the front door.
"No."
"Fuck you mean no?"
"I said no."
"....I don't listen to men."
And you weaved around him to leave the house, ignoring his shout of disapproval.
That leads you both to here now, you pretending you don't see him trailing you from the rooftops as you walk your way back home from the small shopping center.
You feign surprise when he opens the house door for you, begrudgingly sticking a hand out to help you with your bags.
"Oh! Thank you my knight in shining armor~"
"Shut it."
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He's never told you his birthday, which you can understand, living for 50 years and not having your family around must be hard. No matter how he may fake that it doesn't bother him.
That doesn't stop you, not in the slightest really. You damn near kick him out of the house for the day, shoving him over to Tom and Maddie's house so he can be with the others. Despite how much he protested.
"I don't want to go over there. Not with that blue fake."
"You don't really have a choice bub, I need you out of the house."
"I don't understand why I have to-"
"Keep arguing with me and I will make it a point to not buy you shit next grocery trip."
It's an empty threat, but he grunts nonetheless.
"...."
"That's what I thought."
When he finally gets home from his long and admittedly overstimulating day with the Wachowskis, he's ready to recharge in his room.
He teleports through the house door, sighing and rubbing at his temples as he moves to kick off his shoes, knowing that if he doesn't, you'd chastise him for not doing so.
Something about tracking dirt and rocket fuel into the carpet.
Whatever.
After trying to massage his brain through his fur, he opens his eyes up to see a colorful banner strung across the mantle.
'Happy birthday!' It screams, in its disgustingly neon color palette.
Shadow wracks his brain for any information of it being your birthday, he knows for a fact it isn't today. A friend you're throwing a party for? Well, that makes no sense, he knows very well you don't have many friends, especially any that you'd invite your house up for.
You're antisocial to a fault, not that he has absolutely any room to talk.
He hears you before he sees you, turning the corner into the living room, carrying some balloons in your hands. A stupid little party hat on your head.
"Shadow! What are you doing back so early?"
Kicking off the last shoe, he stands at his full height, staring into your eyes with a shrug.
"I wasn't aware I had a time."
"....fair enough, anyways, fuck, goddamnit. Stay here. Okay?"
And you're off, running into the kitchen, his ears flick at the slamming of the fridge door, followed by the cabinets being no doubt, hip nudging it shut way too forcefully.
He's awkwardly standing there still until you yell for him to come in.
Shadow has half a mind to ignore you and go into his room, but curiosity kills the cat, so he takes in a deep breath and makes his way to you.
He finds you sitting at the little kitchenette, a nervous smile spread across your lips as you gesture to the plate in front of you.
The smell is apparent, it's a coffee cupcake.
The hedgehog feels his ears flick again, staring down at the desert, then trailing his eyes back to meet your own. Wordlessly asking you what was going on.
"You've never told me your birthday, but it's been a year since you've been here, with me. After the whole trying to destroy the world shit. So since you won't tell me, we can kinda treat this as it?" You keep rambling, eyes flitting around the room, very clearly nervous as to his reaction.
Shadow doesn't say anything, or move even. Just staring down at the cupcake.
It looks amateurish, the frosting is lopsided, and the toppings on it look messy. But you made it for him. You even added a big black "1" candle in the center.
He doesn't know what to say, he can feel heat rush through his body, rushing to his ears and his face, and his fur feels constricting.
What the fuck.
What the actual fuck.
You go to open your mouth again, no doubt to apologize, but he beats you to it.
Moving to scoop up the treat, he gently sniffs it before taking a cautionary bite.
A beat passes between the two of you.
"...it's good."
Shadow does his best to ignore the smile that blooms across your face, not wanting to remember just how pretty he finds you like this.
Disgusting.
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Shadow doesn't like touch, you know it, he knows it, and everyone knows it. He's threatened to break Sonic's wrist for even so much as patting the older hedgehog on the back. Baring his sharper fangs and hissing out to not touch him ever.
He avoids group hugs from Team Sonic, avoids Tom and Maddie like the plague, dodging every invitation to be a part of the family, it makes him sick to think about it.
With you, it's a little different.
You're not like them, you don't push him to change, you don't have a problem with how closed off he is, giving him space, never once pushing his very strict boundaries.
Something churns in his chest at the sound of you crying in your room, you probably think you're being incognito, holding a pillow to your face to drown out your sobs.
The internal debate is heavy, Shadow used to be able to comfort, to provide warmth, but he hasn't done so in years. Flashes of memories where he would comfort Maria on her bad health days, letting her run her fingers over his quills, to lend an ear to Gerald when he was frustrated about treatments not working.
It's not to say he is replacing you in their place, but it's scary. To open himself up like that again. He can feel his anxiety rising as he goes over the pros and cons of crossing this line. Eyes squeeze shut forcefully as he tells himself he doesn't care about you, that you're an adult, and you don't need to be babied.
His ears twitch when a pathetic little whimper drops from your lips, and his resolve cracks.
You don't look up when he makes his way in, too stuck in your bubble.
Startling a little when two, much stronger and larger hands grab at your own, peeling them away from the pillow. Your puffy bloodshot eyes looking at the hedgehog in front of you, his face set as it usually is, stoic. But his eyes are different, and his body language is different, when has he ever looked at you so softly? It's jarring.
Oh, he's moving closer. Okay. Weird.
"Shadow? Uh, I'm ok-"
You try and lie, it's a pitiful attempt. Your voice is scratchy and the tear tracks down your cheeks aren't helping your plight.
"No, you're not."
He shuts you down immediately, hands sliding up your arms to drag you into him.
The instant your bodies touch, you feel a fresh wave of tears well up in your eyes again.
Shadow has you resting against him, your head resting on him as he wraps himself loosely in your arms, giving you the space to move away if you so choose.
It's the first time he's allowed you to hug him, the first time he's ever initiated contact with someone in years. A fact that you both are well aware of.
A sob works its way up your throat, immediately tightening your grip on the hedgehog, curling into him as you shake.
Shadow doesn't say anything, doesn't make fun of you as snot pours from your nose, doesn't point out that your mascara and eyeliner are getting everywhere, just sits there and lets you cling onto him like he's your only lifeline.
He thinks that this is okay, he's strong enough for you both, and you don't need to worry when he's here.
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boowritess · 2 months
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notsobaddasssoldier!reader who is kinda a cunt
reader who just doesn't give a shit about the 141 rank or title.
"you think just cause your captain of some lil task force i'm gonna bend over backwards for you? be serious."
"cool you're lieutenant...and.... anything else interesting? like how you think halloween is 24/7, or...?"
"oh so it's a big accomplishment you're sergeant at your big age? tell someone who cares."
you're just so... eh about their ranks. but they get some power trip when you call them said rank. makes them feel some sort of way that depsite your snark, you still call them by rank. showing the clear difference of inferiority and superiority between you and them.
till you notice and shut that shet down.
"your so fucking stupid. it's like if i met The Pope. I'm gonna call him Pope because he's The Pope. I still don't give a shit though."
"or like meeting a Doctor and calling them Doctor. I don't give a fuck that the persons a Doctor. I'll still call em it."
"better yet. hate the king. hate the queen. but i still call them the queen and king. because their dumbassary is just linked to their 'ranks'. if you keep annoying me the same is gonna go for you."
you have so much sass and snark that it becomes a truly humbling experience. and it's like - damn. they could put you over their knee and really put you in your place but reader takes things from 0-100 real fucking quick.
"you wanna what you fucking freak?"
"excuse me-?"
"you're so fucking dumb. get a braincell dumb bitch. do it and fucking find out what happens."
"shot me in the head and watch my corpse not give a fuck because I don't."
and when the guys get a lil too fucking serious about putting reader in their place. reader suddenly has a gun pointed at their face. you see what I mean by taking things to 0-100 real quick?
"dummy. really tryna fuck with me when we're surrounded by guns? fuck outta here with that bullshit."
"matter fact I'd just kill myself-"
"NO!" *141*
it's obvious you may be young and perhaps a little too mouthy for your own good but it's clear you're not going to be pushed around.
but it's obvious you ain't here for the 'greater good' and just doing the work to get the paycheck. while the guys find your snark to be really fucking annoying.
it turns out that you definitely have some perks.
you may not be able to hold yourself very long in battle, just a very basic solider with basic skill sets- your mouth and attitude can really work wonders on people.
in particular, the egotistical rookie who things they're all that. taking their sweet time with basic tasks, belittling other recruits who can do the bare minimum. just in general, an asshole. that's when you step in.
"you ain't shit bitch cause at the end of the fucking day turdface, you ain't bullet proof. i can shoot you right now, and all your running and yapping will cease to exist. your corspe will rot. people will stop knowing you as the loudmouth rookie, and you will just become nothing. infact. you are nothing."
*the recruit opens their mouth. you interrupt.*
"Nothing."
*recruit tries again.*
"Nothing."
it's an endless cycle that ceases when your hardened glare doesn't stop and you pick up a rock intending to throw it at the recruit. the blank, dead, serious look in your eyes showing you are more than fucking serious.
what really works wonders though, is they way you aren't worried about putting a superior in their place. the other 141 have basically been beaten in and to not question anything. they have been made to believe they are weapons more than human.
that gets shut down real quick.
you all have just come back from mission, that was grueling. a couple of you were injured. everyone looked worse for wear. dirts, scratches, blood. someone no longer had their vest. a few lost weapons. barely had any inventory. needing food, sleep, and then a long shower shower.
but instead waiting for the task force, was a superior officer, holding the next mission file. a mission they were supposed to be getting ready for and practically leave as soon as they got back.
before price could grab for it, you intercept. grabbing the mission file and throwing it at the superior officers face.
"you giant fucking anal peice of dried solid dog shit. we're not fucking doing that. we just got back from hiding in a fucking forest for three weeks with enemy surrounding us to get intel from a camp- THAT WASN'T FUCKING THERE. so you better turn and take those pretty polished shoes to another task force."
"what is your name, soldier?" *superior officer growls.*
"Dolly Parton. Now Dolly has just worked longer than a nine to five and Dolly ain't got the patience for dealing with a man like you. i got two bullets left. one for you and one for me. and if you think i won't do it- well we can put it to the test now-"
perhaps it was the utter dead look in your eyes, or the gentle yet seething venom in your tone. the superior officer simply growls and turns on their feet, leaving the task force.
it's funny cause you do get the respect, you are barely a good soldier but dang you can get shit done when need be. so price doesn't transfer you. he still keeps you close.
ghost is the one who loves the feral little shit you are. gaz and you talk mad shit about everyone on base. soap just absolutely adores you, you're the little sibling he's always wanted.
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a/n: inspired by the feral nature of gen z.
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rainrot4me · 1 month
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Clean Knife, Bloody Blade
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Summary: When you refuse to get out of bed due to terrible cramps, Jeff tries his best to coax you back. But when you cry and whine to him, the killer presses to resolve your problem, willing to do whatever he can to help…
Characters: Jeff the Killer x Menstruating Female Reader
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Menstruation, period sex, vaginal with a dildo, toy play, vaginal, mentions of organs, blood, desperation, blood kink, teasing
Words: 3.2k
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Jeff was terrible at showing affection.
It wasn’t that he didn’t love you, you knew he did, but to others, they could’ve never guessed. He was always upset, always brooding about something minuscule that would give him an excuse to snap and shrug others off. He was terrible company. But with you, even though subtle, he was calmer and had his head more on his shoulders than normal if you were around.
A calloused hand grasped around your wrist or a half-assed peck on the cheek indicated his affection. To anyone else, it would’ve looked like he was annoyed or had no desire to love you at all, but you knew that this was him trying his hardest to show his feelings. Even though the lack of cuddles and soft compliments itched at you sometimes, Jeff more than made up for it with the bloody carcass of some guy who catcalled you lying on your doorstep or the new pistol he had swiped for you on a mission. Jeff loved you in his own way, and you were more than grateful that he even tried at all, despite what others said.
Jeff always tried his hardest for you, tried more than he cared to for anyone else. And that stood true even now, as you laid in the bed squirming your pain and groaning into his pillows. Jeff was practically clueless. He knew what was happening and that it was nature, but it didn’t make it more comfortable to fuss with you over how dramatic you were being. Or to watch you sob and moan about some blood. Jeff dealt with blood every day, he just didn’t get the theatrics.
Until you began to cry, gripping your stomach as you wore his hoodie and sobbed into his pillow, whining your little heart out. The pale killer was stunned, awkward even as he tried to console you, trying to brush the tears from your eyes. “Just go get Jack. Tell ‘em to get me something.” You whined, rolling over and tugging the covers higher onto your shoulder. 
Jeff cringed, scurrying out of his room and down the hall, shooting for EJ’s lab in the hopes that he would have a better chance at getting you to stop than he could. Normally, Jeff would’ve been annoyed, pissed that you preferred to see some other guy than him, but right now he just wanted you better.
-
“And what does she want me to do about it?” Jack groaned, shuffling through some forceps and scalpels to neatly cut open the human stomach he was working on, trying to push the leftovers of the victim’s last meal out before nibbling on a strip of the raw meat. Jeff cringed, groaning at the way it popped as it tore, squishy in the demon’s mouth. “I don’t fuckin’ know? Just figured you’d be better at this than me. All medical and shit…” The killer scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets, chewing at the tear on his lip. He hated compliments, hated trying to butter someone up, but he sucked it up. 
Jack chuckled, pulling his mask back down over his chin before moving, shuffling through a cabinet nestled above his messy desk. There were all sorts of pills inside, little orange and green translucent bottles that read ‘Wright’ and scribbled doctor’s signatures. How someone was giving Jack all of this medicine Jeff didn’t care to ask, he only noticed when Jack pulled down some painkiller in a white bottle, little pink tablets falling out. 
“Ibuprofen. Give ‘er like three. Maybe some food too, bad to cramp on an empty stomach.” The commands were giving Jeff whiplash, shoving the bottle into his pocket and staring as Jack circled back to his unfinished plate. “If that doesn’t work, try telling her to masturbate.” 
Jeff almost ran into the wall on his way out. What in the actual hell? Jeff tried to laugh as he turned, thinking Jack was joking but his expression was unwavering, gnawing on the tendon of a stomach valve as he smiled. Jeff couldn’t even be mad, stunned more than anything as he let his face show his confusion, letting his mouth hang open. “It’s true. Lulu told me one time. Helps with muscle tension or something. I read up on it a bit but wasn’t relevant to me, so I didn’t care. Guess it’s useful now.” Jack smiled, turning back to his plate and shooing Jeff out, shutting the door behind him as Jeff’s eyes remained wide and stunned, finally clenching his teeth and stomping up the stairs. 
You took the pills easily, letting Jeff convince you to eat a muffin before laying back down, groaning as you gripped his arm, legs curled into yourself. He stared down at you, awkwardly gnawing away at the thought Jack had set in his head. Masturbating? While you were bleeding? There was no way that could be enjoyable. But as you nudged your head against his side, wrapping your arms around his waist and pawing at this shirt, Jeff groaned, rubbing your back. 
Normally you were a little live wire, a little ball of energy that combatted his anger perfectly. You were perfect for him, emotionally and physically. But seeing that little ball of excitement cripple and falter under your pain made him upset, angered that he couldn’t do anything more. He hated seeing you like this, no matter how reluctant he would be to admit it. Jeff wasn’t a sappy guy, far from it, but right now he would do anything to make his girl feel better.
He started slow, nervous that you’d be too overstimulated to even want him to touch you as he rolled you onto your back, pressing down to kiss along your cheeks. You lay confused, squirming as his hands rubbed your sides, gently gripping and soothing your hot skin. “Jeff… Quit…” You groaned as he pecked your lips, tucking your hair behind your ears as he tugged his hoodie over your head. “Chill out.” He nipped, pressing his rough lips against your soft ones and purposefully holding yours down, calming your reluctant body as he rubbed at your stomach, kissing against your jaw. Your skin was hot, clammy against his hands as he pushed your shirt up, you finally realizing what he was doing.
“Jeff.” You grit, shoving him off as you sat up, irritated that he would even try right now. Jeff awkwardly tried to explain, rubbing your arms as he settled you back onto the bed, standing up to grab a towel in his closet. “Listen. Jack gave me some advice or somethin’. Said jerking off helps with your cramps. We don’t gotta, but…” Jeff also reached for the small bag you kept in his closet, tugging it open and tugging out a dildo around his size, awkwardly shoving the bag back into the closet as you watched, cheeks already flushing. “Jeff, it's nasty.” You warned, bringing your knees to your chest and sliding back as Jeff stood at the edge of the bed, lying the items down before continuing to kiss along your face. “Baby, I cut people up. I think I’ll be okay.” He snickered, lying you back down onto his bed.
You nervously laid, squirming your legs together as Jeff pressed between your knees, standing at the end of the bed. He tugged up your hips, sliding the towel underneath you as he pressed his cool hands along your arms, trailing them up into your shirt as he nipped into your neck. You sighed, skin hot and cunt already bothered as you tried to pry your knees tight around his waist. This was going to be weird regardless, your anxiety about the whole thing shining through as Jeff tugged your shirt over your head, palming at your boobs until you were tugging his hands away. “Sensitive.” You hissed, letting his hands fall back at your hips.
He grit, tugging your shorts down and smiling as you shyly closed in on yourself, turning your face into the sheets as he hooked them off of your ankles. He could already see the blood stained onto your panties, your pad doing little against it. Personally, you wanted to die, embarrassment hooking your every whine as Jeff hooked under your panties, tugging them down and gently massaging your thighs, letting you calm down. It was messy, sure, but the killer knew what he was getting himself into. 
You refused to look at him, knees hugged tightly to his sides as he cleaned the blood staining your folds gently as your pelvis ached, cunt tingling under you as Jeff leaned in to kiss your lips, reassuring you coldly. “You’re fine. Stop movin’ so much. It’s just blood.” This was as close as he was getting to gentle, but his words soothed you all the same. You still hid in the sheets, letting Jeff clean your inner thighs as he massaged along your leg, efforts reluctant as you just leaked more. 
The sight of your cunt covered in blood didn’t particularly turn Jeff on, but it didn’t disgust him either. It was just you, that stupid personality and all-too-caring attitude that he loved, he didn’t really care what you looked like in turn. He didn’t really mind what was going on between your legs, just as long as he was one of them. 
“Open up. There ya go.” He chimed, reaching for the dildo and pressing it to your mouth, beckoning you to listen. You obliged, spreading your lips around the girth and licking along the underside, soaking the silicone in your saliva. Jeff didn’t force it, didn’t push it to make you gag like he loved to do, just let it soak. He smiled at you, nudging his thumb between your folds and pressing against your clit, letting you groan against the toy as he felt your knees loosen around his hips. You had never done anything on your period, always so grossed out and irritated to try, but you could already just feel the difference. It was so much more intense, clit so sensitive under the pad of his thumb that you were holding your eyes shut, hips falling and rising against the movement of the digit. It was heavenly, and Jeff noticed, smiling as you practically ground yourself up against him. “Feel good?” He teased, tugging the dildo out of your mouth and sliding it against your stomach, saliva wiping against your warm skin. You nodded, sighing as he pressed up, hips catching and stuttering against it. 
Jeff slid the dildo against your folds, blood catching on the tip and spreading against your inner thighs. He smiled, enjoying how easy it was to push his knee under your thigh and open you up more, movements too lost in the feeling of the dildo halted against your entrance. Jeff held his thumb still, letting the dildo that was a little smaller than his own size begin to push into your aching cunt, cramps pushing out of the way and slowly fading into pleasure as the toy pressed into you. You groaned, a desperate ache of pain and pleasure soaking in as the dildo snugged your walls, pressing against your sensitivity. It just felt so good, entrance aching around the size but the thumb swiping against your clit made up for it. 
When Jeff’s fingers gripped around the base of the dildo and touched your folds, you knew it was bottomed out, cunt clenching tight around the intrusion. “Took it good, yeah? Basically pulled it in.” Jeff laughed, tugging the dildo out before slowly rocking it back in, angling the silicone up so it pressed just right against your swollen walls. You whined, back instantly pushing off of the mattress and arching into the feeling, the slowness tearing you apart. “Oh, God-” You groaned, tugging the sheets hard as Jeff fucked you painfully slow with the toy, watching close at how your body moved with it, hips rolling at every push of his hand. He had found a new kink just now, unfortunately. 
The killer continued to fuck you with the dildo, contorting and tugging the length so it stretched you nicely, thumb effortlessly making you flinch and squirm as he watched blood slowly leak from your tight entrance, pooling beneath you. It was satisfying, really, the further he pushed the toy the more blood spilled. In Jeff’s sicko brain, it reminded him of stabbing someone, digging his knife in and watching the blood just run, smiling at the irony of it all. He pushed harder.
You were loud now, tears running down your cheeks as you gasped at every shove of the dildo, sensitivity riding on every ounce of pleasure that overwhelmed your senses. Jeff was lost, busy watching your cunt and your screwed-up face, and couldn’t hear your silent sobs to stop or slow down, him only pushing harder. “Jeff- God- Wait, I’m… I think- Ah-” You mewled, letting your cunt squeeze down hard against the toy, walls aching as you came, body squirming and writhing as Jeff still bobbed it in and out as your cunt gushed. It took you sitting up, palming at his shoulders before he would stop, barely even realizing you had came until you were sobbing into his shoulder, dildo slipping out of your soppy cunt as you palmed at his jeans, his boner beckoning you. “Not… not enough. Need it.” You whined, words so jumbled and head so light Jeff thought you were losing it, eyes going wide as he realized what you meant. You still ached, still coming down from your orgasm but walls needing more, needing that relief from the pain again.
“Shit- Ah- Okay. Shit.” Jeff jumbled, stuttering as you eventually tugged his cock out of his jeans and began to stroke, leaning back and tugging him closer. He barely even had time, barely could get hard before you were holding his hips and begging him to push in, blood and your own arousal seeping around the tip of his cock nestled between your folds. “Okay, yeah. Shit-” He couldn’t even think to get a condom, couldn’t tell himself you were probably too post-nut high to realize you were too overwhelmed, but with those big eyes staring at him and your flushed cheeks pouting, he couldn’t help but groan his arousal as he pressed in. 
It was warm. Like, warmer than normal, warm. And you were tight too. Your walls fluttered around his cock, swelling against the length that curved and nudged deeper than the dildo, head falling back into the mattress as you moaned out. Jeff cursed, fists gripping your hips tight as he sunk in, watching the blood pool around his cock and seep down onto the towel, your entrance twitching and tightening with every inch that entered. “Needy, huh? You’re so tight, God-” He grunted, straining as he bottomed out and let your hips squirm against his, already beckoning him to move. It was like you were in heat, body more focused on how fast you could cum again than if you even wanted to. It turned Jeff on terribly bad. This version of you was exciting.
Like the dildo, he let his hips rock, bending his knees to angle into your cunt better and sink against your g-spot so nicely, leaving your arms clasped into his hair and dragging him down on top of you. Your skin was so hot, flushed deep as he locked his lips onto yours, rocking his hips into your soppy cunt and relishing in the way it gushed around him. He pushed up, digging his knees into the mattress and letting your thighs wrap around his back, his cock sinking further down and into you as your body contorted under him. You were scrunched, clasping onto his body desperately as you chased another orgasm, stomach fluttering and hips rocking with every movement. “So good- Can’t… Can’t hold on- Faster-” You huffed between slobber-filled kisses, letting Jeff dig his palms into the sheets underneath you and push his knees in deeper, letting his hips pull up much further and sink down just as deep. You were practically purring, mouth hanging open as Jeff bit into your jaw, nibbling the skin as he panted against you, shoving his cock into the hot glove of your cunt. 
“Beg me to fuck you and you’re still not satisfied. Jesus, woman.” Jeffrey grit through pants, leaning back off of you and digging his hands into your waist, tugging his legs further apart to open yours more before snapping his hips into your warmth, hearing the loud squelch and squirts as you writhed, moaning into your hands. Jeff smiled, clawing his hands to your tits and palming hard, letting you scratch and whine at his grasp about sensitivity and to let off, but he refused. You were so sensitive, so overwhelmed that the ache in your pelvis practically vanished, pleasure rippling through your body as you arched and squirmed against the cock quickly pressing down against every inch of your gummy walls. You were cumming again, sobbing as you scratched Jeff’s muscled arms and held on tight, letting his cock fuck you through your desperate orgasm and fight against the overstimulation that crept through your body. 
“There ya go, just like that. Don’t even gotta worry.” Jeff mewled, letting his cock sink deep and rest in your cunt, your walls clenching hard around him, fluttering as he twitched and ached inside of you, restraining to cum until your sobs quieted, little whines and gasp all that was left. “Did so good.” He grits as he tugged his cock out, the length soaked and stained in your blood and arousal, fist quick to grasp around and pump himself over you, watching as you panted with heavy eyes. The blood stained his hand, smearing as he came against your folds, letting his seed run and mix with your blood as he groaned, palming at your thighs. “Fuck.. yeah…” He smiled, rubbing his tip against your clit for good measure before tugging back, scooping the messy towel out and cleaning what he could. 
You were too sleepy to hear the bath run in the room over, body still twitching and relaxing as your cramps stayed at a dull roar now, pleasure overtaking them. Jeff scooped you up, his body bare now as he stripped the rest of your clothes, cutting the faucet off before sliding you both into the large tub, letting your back rest against his chest. You mewled, leaning back against his shoulder and letting your eyes flutter shut, rubbing the arms that wrapped around your waist. “Thank you.” You sighed, the hot water soothing your body nicely. “It was hot, so worth it.” Jeff chuckled, tucking your hair out of the way as he kissed your forehead. 
You knew he cared. He had strange ways of showing it, ever reluctant to become soft and vulnerable. But you relished the moments where he got close, like now. Maybe Jeff wasn’t the most affectionate, sappy guy to have, but it was more than enough for you. 
Even if he was terrible at showing affection, the dedication to you more than paid its part. 
This was a request by @bubbleduckie!
Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹
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midnightwriter21 · 1 year
Text
demon slayer hcs: the hashira men w/ a demon!SO that’s immune to sunlight pt2
characters: fem!reader x sanemi
warnings: blood, injuries, language, angst
pt. 1 w rengoku and giyuu HERE
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SANEMI
this poor man can just never be happy huh
now i find it very hard to believe that sanemi would be with a regular civilian
he’s gotta know that his SO is able to take care of themself
SO
ur a slayer and you guys are paired up on a mission together
there were reports of several low ranking demons being sighted in a town
so Sanemi decides to split up and to meet back up when the sun begins to rise
when you don’t show up at the meeting place he knows something is very very wrong
tears through the town looking for you
and he finds you alright
laying in a pool of your own blood
haori torn to shreds
sword broken
he doesn’t even walk toward you
he’s frozen
his blood has literally gone cold
stands there staring at your broken body until the kakushi arrive
when they do they quickly realize that you are alive and sanemi snatches your limp body from them and SPRINTS to the butterfly mansion
he hands you off to Shinobu who gets to work immediately
he waits there for her to give him an update
and boy does she
you? a demon?
his sweet loving girlfriend is a demon?
it can’t be true. you were laying in the sun.
he tells shinobu this and she says that she’ll have to do some more testing when you wake up
it’s 3 days later when you finally do wake up
and when you do you’re greeted with 2 low ranking slayers pointing their swords at your neck
of course they had to keep you guarded in case you woke up and needed a snack
the human kind
screaming for shinobu she rushes into the room
she sends the slayers out and quickly explains what has happened to you
you ask for sanemi
and your heart breaks when she tells you that he hasn’t visited
not once since she told him what you had become
a few more days pass with shinobu running a bunch of tests
she concludes that you’re somehow immune to the sun and that you don’t have an appetite for humans
and still no sign of sanemi
he hasn’t responded to any of your letters either
when shinobu releases you from her care you head to sanemi’s estate
when you knock on his door he opens, looks at you
and then slams it right back in your face
so you leave
as the weeks pass you throw urself into training with Nezuko who you’ve become friends with
but other than to train you don’t leave your estate
you have locked yourself away from the world
believing that sanemi hates you because of what you are
a monster
it’s not until Genya visits you and sees how pitiful you look that something is done
Genya storms to his brothers home
the ground practically shaking under his steps
Genya literally slaps some sense into Sanemi
like actually slaps the shit outta him
Genya is the only person that could get away with something like that other than you lol
not 10 minutes after genya left your home you get a very hesitant knock on your door
you don’t answer
so Sanemi takes it upon himself to walk in
and he finds you sitting on the floor staring at the wall with a blank look on your face
he sets a gentle hand on your shoulder and you don’t react
you don’t move a muscle
you don’t even blink
it’s as if you’re in a trance
he takes in the dark circles under your eyes
and the frown that looks like it’s permanently stretched across your face
and the guilt hits him full force
kneeling next to you and pulling you into his lap
he buries his face into your hair
and he cries
“i’m so fucking sorry”
“if i didn’t decide to split up this wouldn’t have happened”
“it’s my fucking fault”
and then he feels you pull away from him
his eyes are still closed with tears slipping down his face
and then a small cold hand is wiping the tears from his face
“you left me” you say
and his eyes shoot open
to see you with tears in your eyes
he looks away
“i can’t look at you knowing that this is my fault” he says in between cries
“why are you here now?” you ask
he pulls you back into his chest and say
“Genya told me how you’ve been acting and I can’t stand knowing that you’re unhappy”
you push yourself closer to him and say
“if you want me to be happy, then stay”
he takes a deep breath
“i’ll stay”
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moongreenlight · 11 months
Note
What if your brain tells you that nurse!reader from the previous fic was on the field with the boys as an on call medic and gets taken as a POW and ghost is losing his fucking mind?? - like actual feral behavior
Ohhhhhhhhhmygod. Hi? I’m in your walls. So mad I didn’t see this before because I’ve been SLAVING over a Simon fic all week and this apparently is the motivation I needed to put some more batshit insane things on the internet forever.
We all know that Simon is a fucking machine. Prides himself on his ability to essentially turn off his humanity on the field. But for some reason his nurse!reader is the one thing that interrupts that ability. Even seeing you treating a few rowdy privates gets him worked up. Lingers around the medbay in his free time for no apparent reason just to side eye your patients and glare at them to make sure there’s absolutely no possibility of you getting hurt.
There was probably an occasion where you were treating a soldier who didn’t fare well with pain. Moaning and crying and thrashing while you did something simple like tuck their arm into a sling, and they somehow writhed around enough to hook you in the cheek with their elbow. Nothing serious, but it left an angry red mark on your cheek for so long that he caught it on one of your evening walks around base. Usually after dark so you could both avoid being found out.
And then the next day you see Simon dragging that same soldier to a different nurse’s bed under the armpits. Explaining gruffly that he went unconscious because he couldn’t handle training. (He made the poor bastard run the track in full tactical gear on one of the hottest days of the year for nearly an hour straight. No water. No breaks.)
You were the kindest, softest thing he’d ever come in contact with. Something he never thought he’d be able to find in this lifetime after so much hate and anger and pain. He couldn’t risk losing you, which is why he was so strict on his saying no to you joining the task force on the field. The shit they did was dangerous. Immensely so. And this brought up two main points for Simon.
One; he wouldn’t be able to focus on the task at hand knowing you were out. He slept with one eye open when you were nestled close to his chest and snoring softly in the comfort of your own home that he’d all but booby-trapped home alone style. No fucking way he’d allow you out into hostile territory with only a introductory understanding of self-defense. He’d be on pins and needles the entire mission. Probably get the entire squad killed because he’d constantly be looking over his shoulder for you.
Two; it would rip him to shreds if he lost you. You were the only person he truly saw as an equal. The first time the two of you met, he was probably being angsty and rude because he did something to land himself in the medbay, and when he refused to take off his tact vest so you could listen to his heart and lungs, you all but held him at scalpel-point and threatened him within an inch of his life until he finally submitted. After that he was fucking hooked. Obsessed with the way you could get brutes like him to roll over and show you their belly like obedient dogs. And you were kind to him. Immeasurably kind. Dealt with his mood swings and took the time to get to know him. Suffered through the impossibly long process of him letting his guard down.
So if somehow his orders were ignored, it was almost certain that you’d be given strict orders to keep your involvement under wraps. Price would have enough of an idea of the situation to keep the two of you on opposite schedules in the days leading up to deployment. Minimize the possibility of you letting slip that you’d be coming along to preserve not only the integrity of his team but also his quality of life.
It would seem like a regular day to Simon at first. Loading into the helo before dawn, sitting between Johnny and Gaz and trying to tune them out while they snarked at one another across him. And then Price would come on looking guilty as sin. You could practically smell it coming off him. Leaning both his arms on the open door and signaling the driver to start the engine for a quick take off in case Simon decided to abandon ship in his outrage.
He’d give some spiel about teamwork and the importance of focusing on the mission and whatever other bullshit he thought would keep Simon the most level headed. Spewing on and on until Gaz finally cut him off with a pointed yawn. At which point he’d give the group one last look, lingering the longest on the ghost mask, before stepping aside to reveal you.
Dressed up in a uniform that looked about a size too big. Tailored as best it could be in the short notice. Pants chopped and hemmed to make them a manageable length, belt pulled as tight as it could go around your waist. Strapped into a vest that was loaded with medical supplies instead of weapons. Two pistols holstered on your either side.
Simon was beyond livid. Spouting steam like a cartoon bull. Staggering to stand when the chopper took off and stalking over to the cockpit where Price sat and tried to look casual.
Gave him a fucking earful. Screaming over the roar of the engine into the earpiece on a private channel for the entire two hour long flight. Bitching about paperwork and dead weight and how it’s just another person he’ll need to look after and he doesn’t want to. It’s almost impressive. Price doesn’t get a word in sideways. Gets shut down immediately if he even dares to open his mouth.
And he’s a monster when he finds out you’ve been taken POW. Circled by the enemy team like ravenous wolves finding a wounded deer. Soap and Gaz both have to pin him down when Price breaks the news. Seeing fucking red.
A large part of me thinks he internalizes a lot of the torture he went through in the comics. Letting it sit and fester inside him like the worst kind of poison that it took him years to meticulously extract from his very being and carefully contain into a small vial. Laying dormant in the back of his mind for a moment like this. He had no idea what the enemy wanted with you, so he had to assume the worst.
Storms their base by himself. Sniffs you out through a maze of bunkers and underground tunnels and infinitely many heavily secured doors. And the rest of the force just watches his six. Stands back feeling a little nauseous, but letting him blaze down his war path. Any and everyone who gets in his way is guilty unless they can prove their innocence- and they don’t get the chance. Runs through all his ammo gunning down countless grunts and privates stationed outside the base of planted as decoys. Specifically demanding that Price be the one to give up his weapons and ammo so he can continue on. And it’s the one time that the captain allows him to snarl orders like that.
Price knows that Simon is, in his core, a fighting dog. Rescued by the force and given an opportunity to channel his aggression into a more productive outlet. And now it seems all his hard work and training is coming unraveled. Watching Simon once again snap his jaws and bare his teeth, killing without rhyme or reason to get you back, is jarring to say the least. So in some last-ditch effort to preserve some of the trust that they’d built, he surrenders. Shows his belly. Shrugs off his rifle with no objection other than the way his mouth drew into a tight line.
Simon kicks through heavy metal reinforced doors without the need for a battering ram. Pushes himself well past the point of exhaustion. Fueled purely off the instinctual need to recover you. He can’t speak. Can’t eat. Can’t drink. Can’t stop.
He’d mow through the first few ranks of soldiers until they finally found someone that looked like they’d have at least a sliver of useful information and beat them within an inch of their life until they gave up the information that would eventually lead him to you.
In all honesty, you were probably taken with the intent to lure them in. Not anticipating your absence would have such an impact. Kept you bound in a guarded room. Roughed up a bit just from your struggle, but they hadn’t had time to interrogate you before they got word that 141 was coming in wild and sideways.
This would send Simon even further into madness. Body aching, bleeding from his knuckles. His knees and shoulders screaming their protest when he broke down the door, sending it crashing into the room. And the first thing he sees is you huddled in a corner blindfolded and bound with handcuffs that were cutting into your wrists from your trying to escape. He’d be an entirely different person. (I am giggling and kicking my feet.)
He wouldn’t even bother wasting time with the rifle. He’d handle what few guards were left with his bare hands. Possessed by some kind of superhuman strength. Catching a second wind the moment he laid eyes on you. He’d rush over, the rest of the boys standing guard in the hallway, and break you free from your restraints.
And as much as I would want him to be sweet and coddle you and coo over you, he’d probably be riding such a high that he wouldn’t be able to. He’d immediately start in on you, but with significantly less ferocity than he had with Price.
“You got a fuckin’ death wish? Think they’d turn you into a martyr for bein’ a medic on the field? Real original fuckin’ concept, yeah?”
He’d pull you in close to him, giving you an incredibly detailed once over. Inspecting your face and neck and arms legs for any further damage, and once he determined after three checks that all your wounds were purely superficial, he’d allow his hands to shake just slightly when he smoothed your hair back off your forehead.
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smileysuh · 2 months
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aphrodisiac - TEASER
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🌙 starring. Mark Lee x afab!Reader I ft. Lee Donghyuck
🔮 preview. You kiss him softly at first, waiting to see how he reacts. Mark is frozen, but after a second, his hands pull you closer, his lips moving more urgently against your own. His tongue licks at you, and you open your mouth for him, accepting everything Mark is giving you on the dance floor. You hook your fingers in Mark’s belt, pulling his body flush to your own. He groans against your lips, deepening the kiss. It’s a struggle to breathe, a struggle to do anything but get lost in the demon hunter as he kisses you in a way you’ve never been kissed before. He tastes like rum, coke, and a deep longing that’s been brewing for much more than a week. His hands cradle you close, as if he never wants to let go, and you wonder for a moment if he’s wanted this for as many years as you have.
tw/cw. slight cnc (demon!Hyuck uses an aphrodisiac power to make reader and Mark fuck, but they've been into each other for years), weird voyeurism, weird demonic shows of dominance through dirty talk, dirty talk, breast worship, pussy worship, oral (f receiving), exhibitionism (fucking in a deserted alleyway), Mark has big dick energy in this, roughness, unprotected sex, slight overstimulation, face riding, aphrodisiac assisted powerful orgasms, multiple reader orgasms, death, etc…
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 5.5k
🍭 aus. demon au, demon!Hyuck, demon hunter reader/Mark, childhood friends to semi-forced lovers, fake dating, hotel only has one bed, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. this is hella on the tame side of cnc since that's not generally something I've ever written, but I still wanted to include the warning since Hyuck uses his demonic powers to utilize the attraction Mark and reader have to each other to get them to fuck.
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There are busier streets you could be walking- busier streets that a normal person would feel more comfortable using at a time like this, but you and Mark are looking for trouble, and as you make your way down a secluded alleyway ten blocks from your hotel, trouble finds you. 
“It’s quite the show you two have put on for me this week,” a voice rings out, and you immediately whip around to look at the man crouched on the fire escape one level up. You know the moment you see him that this is the demon you’ve been hunting. Although he looks quite human in the dim light of the alleyway, there’s an aura about him that feels wrong, dangerous. “Two little demon hunters out to catch a big bad. That’s very sexy.”
Mark’s hand flies to his belt, where his knife is hidden, but the demon lets out a low whistle that makes him falter.
“You won’t be needing that,” the demon announces. “After all, the aphrodesiac should be kicking in any moment.”
Your blood runs cold, and realization washes over you.
“Your little girlfriend has figured it out,” the demon clicks his tongue. “Have you?”
Mark’s gaze shifts to your own, and your pulse races at the brief eye contact, your pussy throbbing-
“I’m Hyuck, and I’m the demon who likes to eat my prey… after watching them fuck.”
“Shit-” Mark mutters, his hand beginning to shake by his hidden blade. 
“Just be grateful you’ll die after having sex,” Hyuck coos. “Something tells me the two of you have never fucked. I’ve been watching you all week. Bet you thought you were very convincing, pretending to be a couple and everything. Had your first kiss tonight, didn’t you? It’s cute.” The demon taps his fingers along the fire escape, standing up and looking down at you. “Cute that you ever thought the two of you could be a match for me.”
You try to grab your own blade, but your hands won’t cooperate. You’re overtaken by a need- if you’re not tearing Mark’s clothes off, you don’t want to touch anything at all. Your mind is still focused on the mission, but your body simply won’t do what you want it to do… except, you really want to jump Mark’s bones.
“If it’s any consolation, my aphrodisiac power only works on people who are already into each other. You can fuck without worrying that the other isn’t into it, and since it’s your last night on Earth, you might as well enjoy it… if you can.” Hyuck cocks his head to the side. “Guessing this isn’t the way you wanted your first time with your pretty little girlfriend to go, but, all’s fair in love, war, and demon hell spawns.”
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shun-nie · 1 year
Text
SatoSugu x reader
=>They can't reach you while you're on a mission.
—>a little angst to fluff
!!!!!swearing, gn!reader, mentions of death!!!!!
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"Why did Yaga-Sensei gave the mission to Y/N anyway?" Satoru said as he frowned, you left early this morning and still didn't came back.
"Because Y/N always finishes their work smoothly, they always thinks logically and moves smart in missions." Suguru replies, he missed you too. He was also annoyed that Yaga-Sensei gave the mission to you but it was understandable why he did that. Suguru sighs, he and Satoru were sitting on a bench, sulking beacuse you're not here.
"I missed Y/N, Suguru. Why haven't they come back yet? The mission shouldn't be too hard for them right?" Satoru whined, it was so boring without you. And you always finished the missions quickly, plus you would call them if you were going to be late. Suguru frowned, what if something had happened to you? Sure you were strong and smart (pretty too) but anything could happen right?
Suguru immediately took his phone out of his pocket, went into his contacts and tapped your name. Satoru stopped whining and turned his gaze to Suguru, watching him get impatient as you didn't pick up. Suguru called you for the second time, after ringing a few times, he heard the message "the person you are calling cannot be reached at the moment, please try again later". Suguru looked at the phone screen, why weren't you picking up?
"They usually pick up the phone even if they're busy..." Satoru said quietly, he was thinking the worst scenario. Did you got hurt? Oh god. What if you did?
Suguru got up from the bench and looked at Satoru, Satoru undertood what he meant even if he didn't say anything. He stood up as well, they both walked off to find Yaga.
[meanwhile]
"Fuck, this shit hurts." you said as you clenched your fists, pressing a cloth over the bleeding wound. The mission went smoothly, there was two 1st grade curses. You got rid of them but then a special grade showed up, and there was a little girl in its hands. You had to save the child first, you did save the child and killed off the special grade but you were injured badly.
"Y-Y/N-san, please don't-please don't die!!!" the little girl cried out, tears running down her face. You panicked a little but calmed down.
"Hey, I won't die. Don't worry. I'm one of the strongests, y'know?" you grinned, you actually felt like shit and your head was hurting, there was a ringing in your ears, your phone was broken, you were bleeding from multiple spots. 'Fuck, I'll probably die.' you thought, guilty that you lied to the little girl.
"W-what do we do?! You'll die!!!" the little girl cried even louder, hugging your body close. Not wanting to let go. You sighed and pat her head, thinking of a way out.
"Say, what's your name?" you asked gently.
"Y-Yume..."
"Yume, that's a pretty name. Just like you." You said and smiled, Yume wiped her tears. Looking at you.
"Yume, can you find me a long stick?"
[...]
"Sensei, we have to look for them!! Let us leave!!
"I said no, Satoru. Y/N is strong, no need to worry about them."
Satoru clenches his teeth, clearly angry. Yaga refused to tell where you are and both Satoru and Suguru were worried about your safety. Sure, you were strong. There is no doubt in that, but you were still human and not an immortal. You could've die while they were sitting on a bench doing literally nothing. Suguru frowned at the idea of you dying alone, he wouldn't want that. You didn't deserve that.
Yaga couldn't reach you too, you didn't pick up his calls either. He was worried too, but he knew you were strong and believed that you would manage to get the work done.
"Sensei, we know Y/N is strong. But that doesn't change the fact they can get hurt." Suguru said, trying to remain calm. Yaga looked at them and opened his mouth to talk but Haibara opened the door harshly, he had a scared look on his face. Satoru and Suguru shared a look before looking at Haibara, Yaga was about to scold him for not knocking but he got silent as his eyes widened at Haibara's words.
"SENSEI!!! Y/N-SAN CAME INJURED, THEY'RE NOT BREATHING!!!!"
[...]
"..-/N...!"
".Y/-....!"
"Y/N!!"
"..The hell do you want? Don't scream in my ear you dumb fuck..." you said with a tired tone and opened your eyes slowly. Blinking multiple times to adjust the lights.
You saw 2 familiar faces when you opened your eyes, then you sense that there are 3 people in the room. All the eyes on you.
"Glad to see you're the same even if you came back from death." you heard Shoko's voice, she sound tired. And her voice was hoarse, did she cry?
You tried to process what had happened for a few seconds, and when you remembered what had happened, you immediately sat up in bed. Your head, throbbing as you did so. Suguru and Satoru were looking at you with concerns, Satoru probably cried as his eyes were red. Oh. Oh shit.
"Yume...Where is Yume? Is she okay?" You asked quickly, turning your gaze to Shoko, she sighed and nodded.
"Yeah, there was not even a scratch on her body. She's sleeping in your room." Shoko said and got silent for a moment before talking again.
"You almost died and you're not even worried about yourself..?" Shoko said quietly. You sighed and let Suguru lay you down on the bed.
"I'm sorry. The special grade just showed up, I couldn't just left Yume to it's hands." you replied quietly, "Sorry..." You said again. Suguru kissed your forehead, he was holding your hand as your other hand was being held by Satoru. Shoko walked over to your bed and kissed your cheek, it hurted to see you in this position.
"Just rest, yeah? Don't worry much about it." she said and walked towards the door, leaving the room to smoke her stress off. You were left with Satoru and Suguru, Satoru was resting his head on your stomach as he played with your fingers. Suguru was stroking you hand with his thumb, probably think of which words he should say.
"Satoru, Suguru. I'm sorry I worried you both." You said, not looking at them. Satoru pulled his chair closer to your bed, kissing the side of your lip softly before grinning. Teasing you about how depressed you sound, you teased back telling he looks as depressed as you. Suguru watched you both and smiled to himself.
He was glad you didn't left them.
.
.
.
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Reluctant Partners (Part 1) | #LeviMonth2024 Two-Shot
✧ word count ➼ ~1.8k ✧ notes ➼ canonverse, captain!reader, rivals to lovers, my attempt to fit a slowburn trope into a single piece!!!!!, sfw in this part but following-up with nsfw tomorrow ✧ comments ➼ levi month entry for august 1! this got too long, so i'm splitting it into two parts and will post part 2 tomorrow! part 2 will be spicy, just a heads up 👀 ✧ join my levi month taglist here!
{{August 2 (Pre-Canon: First Time Part 2) }} Masterlist
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Levi Ackerman was the worst person to partner up with. He was the best at what he did, which made it difficult to feel like you were contributing anything when you were paired up with him. While he never went out of his way to make you feel like shit, it certainly didn't help that he'd take the lead and charge headfirst into a hoard of Titans on his own without bothering to listen to your protests.
It had always been this way. You were originally a recruit that was on his squad, and he seemed to have been a particular dick to you from the start. He was tough and honest with all of his recruits, but you seemed to get underneath his skin regularly, and you couldn't quite figure out why. It seemed like he was trying everything he could to hold you at arm's length, which made working with him in life-or-death situations extremely difficult, especially after a particularly close call that you had run into in which he had to scoop your ass out of trouble last minute.
You had eventually got promoted to lead your own squad, but Levi's attitude towards you only got worse instead of better. That, in addition to the fact that you developed your own beef with Levi, led to the two of you being rivals ever since.
You recalled the horror on your face when you read the upcoming assignments, seeing that you were paired up with Levi on a two-week mission outside Wall Rose to scout for a new base. A part of you was tempted to storm into Erwin's office and try to figure out what was going on through your commander's head by pairing you together.
You found out about that mission nearly a month ago, and you had been dreading it every day since due to the fact that you'd be alone with him for two entire weeks. Not only was he insufferable, but you also had to deal with the odd and annoying heat that was building up within you whenever he was around.
It was more obvious as a recruit, but you had always assumed it was due to being nervous around Levi since he was well-known as Humanity's Strongest, and you were just a recruit that barely got started with the Survey Corps. After you got promoted, you assumed the heat was due to your anger and frustration from being around him and his aloof behavior.
However, you knew the reality deep down, even if you were reluctant to admit it on the surface. The two of you couldn't stand each other, but found yourselves reluctantly attracted to one another.
You weren't venturing too far from the Walls, so the Titan threat shouldn't have been anything the two of you couldn't handle, especially once the sun set. Your destination was a castle that the Survey Corps had previously used as a base before Wall Maria fell. Your goal was to secure it so that the rest of the group could head here to prepare for their next expedition into the forest.
The castle itself was a mess. It needed a few hours of dusting, but it at least still functioned as a base, with even some spare beds being available. By the time you were finally done making it at least somewhat habitable, the sun had already gone down.
The candlelight was dim, and the flames were dancing off the walls, but it provided you enough light to be able to see without attracting too much attention from the outside. You were in a high enough area that an ambush by the Titans would be hard to miss, even if you were dead asleep.
"You take the bed by the door. You'd be too obvious of a target."
You looked over your shoulder and saw Levi leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, shooting him a scowl in retaliation for his comment.
"...relax," you said dismissively, knowing that his concern was regarding the not-so-slim possibility that you could get snatched by a Titan, or at least attract the attention of one. "The sun's gone down. They should be sedentary until morning."
You heard a quiet "tsk" come from underneath his breath, raising your eyebrow as he approached you.
"That's based on what we know from four-eyes," Levi noted. "With our luck, we'll be the ones to run into Titans that can suddenly move around in the night."
As annoying as it was, he did have a point. You barely knew anything about the Titans other than the few successful tests that Hange had been able to conduct on any that you were able to capture alive.
"Okay, well if you get grabbed, then we're even more fucked."
Levi was Humanity's Strongest, which meant that losing him would be a major blow to the Survey Corps, and the entirety of humanity as a result.
The part you didn't say aloud was that you'd also be devastated about losing him. He was a nuisance, but a part of you didn't want to imagine life without him, even if you were still just keeping each other at a distance.
"...quit arguing and just take the fucking bed by the door."
"Nah," you said, waving him off with a shrug. "I'd rather sleep further away from you."
"God dammit, _____, can you quit being difficult?" Levi growled, his deadpan expression briefly breaking into one of mild frustration. "I'm just trying to-"
You turned back towards him as you noticed him fall quiet. Levi wasn't one to get stumbled over his words, and certainly not around you—someone that he loved to constantly berate.
"Trying to what?" you asked, before quickly shaking your head to stop your train of thought. "That doesn't even matter, you are not my superior anymore."
"...that's not the point, dumbass."
You narrowed your eyes at him as you heard him quietly mutter the insult. "Then what is the point, asshole?"
Levi didn't respond, only averting his gaze, which only prompted you to obnoxiously step up to him to get in his space.
"Hello?" you beckoned to him, waving your hand in front of his face.
A small groan of annoyance escaped his throat as he swatted your hand away. "...I'm trying to protect you, dumbass."
His answer took you aback for a second, bringing up feelings of inadequacy that you hadn't felt since you had been a recruit, with his repeated insult only adding to your frustration and offense.
"Well...I don't need your protection-"
"I know."
Levi cut you off without giving you a chance to begin a tangent on why he was overreacting or being overly precautious.
"...just take the fucking bed."
~~~~~
You hadn't expected yourself to be able to sleep easily, given your environment, but you hadn't expected to have been stuck tossing and turning either. It was one thing if you just got into an argument with him—that was fairly normal these days. However, his comment about needing to protect you got under your skin and you quickly found yourself ruminating about it to no end.
Frustrated and unable to sleep, you made your way over towards the bed that he took near the window. You weren't sure what you were going to say, but you had to do something to try to prove that you weren't as incompetent as he seemed to think you were.
Levi immediately looked at you over his shoulder once he heard you stepping up. He wasn't sleeping as usual.
"...did you really come over here in the middle of the night to continue this argument? Go back to bed," he muttered dismissively. "You'll just get grouchy in the morning."
"...it's not that," you mumbled quietly.
"Then what?" he asked with a raised eyebrow and a tone of exasperation. "Spit it out."
You shuffled around awkwardly, trying to settle down your nerves. You felt yourself getting more and more upset throughout the night, but it felt much more intense now that you were actually confronting him about it.
"...I'm sorry if you still think I can't handle myself out here."
"...you're still hung up on that?" Levi responded quietly after a moment of silence.
He knew what you were referring to. You had screwed up as a recruit and nearly died out on the field. Levi had to come rescue you, and you had been training your ass off to try to prove to either him or yourself—perhaps both—that you were fit for the job despite that incident.
"For the record, I don't think you can't handle yourself," he noted, sitting up to face you, and noticing the small pout on your face as you looked off to the side. "Far from it. I just..."
The rest of his sentence trailed off. There were clearly things being left unsaid, and you were far too frustrated to just leave it at that.
"...you just what?"
You had expected him to come up with some bullshit excuse or dismiss this conversation altogether.
"I just don't want to see you hurt again, alright?"
His tone was laced with a subtle hint of frustration, as if he was forcing himself to acknowledge something that he pushed away for quite some time.
You blinked at him in confusion, slowly putting the pieces together, but still battling with your own feelings regarding him.
"...you mean too much to me to risk losing you to something as dumb as getting snatched out of the window by a Titan that managed to sneak up on us."
Your face was beginning to heat up at his words. It was only at this point that you remembered that he was briefly around you more when you had gotten injured, but almost immediately retreated once you had recovered. You had never really noticed it before, but he did tend to give you more attention when you were still a recruit and training under him when compared to the others.
It was blatantly obvious to anyone else that the tension between the two of you was more than just a rivalry or a passive dislike of one another. Levi had seemed to realize it the minute that you had gotten injured, withdrawing almost immediately after you were well enough to return to duty.
You didn't seem to realize it until right this moment.
By the time you looked up at him again, you saw that he was looking directly at you. The flames of the torch flickered gently in the reflection of his silvery eyes, and you felt like you were seeing him again for the first time, as someone other than who you had convinced yourself to be the bane of your existence.
#: @shayewrites @littlerequiem @ackerbootytobbi @humanitys-strongest-brat @mostlilo @dustbuniesworld @levisrations @ebechnasheim @moonchild-angel @jayteacups @bipolargatto
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spdrvyn · 7 months
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miguel and his sunshine human gf that loves to annoy the shit out of him and sometimes in order to stop her/calm her down he has to put her in an air jail 🤭
ardor and annoyance
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miguel and reader who's a bundle of energy and joy. having to tame your late night rituals is no easy task, but it's one that he's always willing to take. what's more important than having your dear lover in bed with you?
pure fluff. reader can be seen as either civilian/spider. is it really one of my fics if i don't write about how much miguel hates himself even by just a little bit
dividers by @cafekitsune
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What Miguel learned from being a leader, setting an example, being his mother's son, and serving as a hero was patience. 
It was a value that he had slipped up on from time to time, more often with himself. If he ever found himself at wit's end with someone else, he would mope until it passed or wait to get some precious alone time and healthily expresses his emotions by making a mess of his quarters and breaking down until he'd get tired and just sleep it off, restarting this precious cycle. 
Eventually though, he had begun to no longer exhaust himself by getting angry. Unless the entire multiverse was at stake (ahem), then he'd have to spring into action. But his main priority now is to fix the problem, get it over with, rinse, and repeat. 
When you entered his life, he realized that there was more to his ridiculous routines, more than his self-destructive attitudes, and that true patience came with love and caring as well. Obviously, he's light years away from being content with himself, but you redirect him, navigating through when that dastardly cycle repeats, so that you can wash it away and make him anew. 
Miguel isn't the only one that has his layers peeled back though, there's so much that he notices about you. That composed and mature persona that you set up for yourself, that has built good albeit only professional connections with the other spiders eases its way into a bubbly and joyful demeanor whenever you're around him. 
It almost didn't make sense, Miguel just seemed like the kind of guy to not want to do that with, to not want to relax around. He couldn't even relax on his own, the thought that anyone could feel comfortable in their own skin around him was shoved into the back of his mind. That connection that he so painfully needs is put aside for prioritizing the safety of everyone everywhere else. 
Your true nature is infectious, to his dismay. It's too difficult to avoid the care that you're so insistant on giving him, it started with working overtime, to enjoying working overtime, to going over to Miguel's place for work purposes, to going over to Miguel's place for non-work purposes to kissing him for the first time, and now you're dating. 
The catch with Miguel having let loose around him was that all that conserved energy circulated around his apartment, whenever he got home from another long day at the Society, he'd climb into you doing five different things all at once. Reading, watching a show, watching a baking show, baking a cake, and texting. 
It was hectic, nothing that he couldn't handle, but how you're not on the verge of collapsing probably deep into the trenches of the night concerned him. For slightly more selfish reasons, Miguel doesn't like not having you in bed with him. This wasn't as extreme as the missions he took up at work, but it was a mission nonetheless.
You're... Busy, Miguel doesn't know what with. He sees yarn, he sees cookie dough, he sees a laptop, tablet, phone, and headphones, and so many other trinkets that are buried under the pile that you've built on the kitchen counter. Your focus shifts between each individual station, and Miguel shifts closer and closer to you quietly. 
You're occupied on the laptop, occasionally looking at the stove while you're doing so. Then returning to your yarn and now knitting needles? Before mixing the cookie dough even more and even liking the mixture off of the spoon, humming to yourself contently. 
You don't even notice that Miguel is right behind you, until he secures you against his front and lifts you up with a squeal. 
"Miguel!" You whine, squirming against his solid arms. Your feet swing in the air and you try to push his hands away from your midsection, but there's no use in trying to free yourself when it's with him anyway. 
"Go to sleep. No más tonterías, cariño." His voice is fogged by sleep, as his grasp on you tightens. You turn slightly with what little space that you have and you can see his slumber muddled stature. Tousled hair, relaxed expression, eyes half-lidded, and he raises a brow at your staring. "What?"
"Nothing," you sigh, "I'll go to sleep, you just have to let me go."
Miguel shakes his head, rocking your swinging body from side to sidet to go along with it as well. "No, I don't trust you." There's a humorous fry to it, you accentuate the pout on your lips, and he laughs. 
It takes a little while for you to convince him to put you down, you can't say this is the most uncomfortable position for you. Whenever you're around Miguel, you always wind up in his arms one way or another, but this time that principle is just being used against you. The conversation shifts, less about your captivity, more about Miguel's day, your day, anything new outside, anything new in Spider Society. The position you're in, the silky nature in his voice, it gets you groggy and Miguel can sense it. 
He wins. 
He handles you to the bed properly now, laying your once tireless form onto the comforter as he tucks you in. You don't even try objecting anymore, the stove is still on, the video on your laptop was probably still playing, and that knitting project will have to remain unfinished until tomorrow, but it was fine. You know that everything is fine when Miguel gets into bed with you, pressing his lips to the top of your head in one long kiss. 
He wins this little dispute of yours, but you know that you've won at life knowing that your nights end like this, engulfed in his embrace, the sound of his breathing bringing you to a deep sleep as well. 
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madds-is-ace-trash · 1 year
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Nightwing why are you warring a cape? Well for the baby of course! Dcxdp
This takes place in the same universe as my fic Mother of the storm and her star child.
A few years have passed and Danny is completely settled in and moved to bulhaven with dick. Eventually around the time he’s Turing 9 he insists that he wants to go out at night with dick. Dick is hesitant but Danny insist, pointing out how his abilities would make him the perfect recon detective. Dick can no longer argue when Danny beats both Damian and Cass the first day of training and he is out out in the field.
Danny hose out in his ghost form and picks the name phantom because it feels right and now nightwing patrols with a bird if his very own for the first time in a while. Danny is very good on patrols, he sticks close to dick often clinging to him and hiding behind him when dick is interacting with people. He’ll often turn invisible but it still doesn’t fell like enough to dick. He quickly released that he missed the cape and the layer of securing it added when Damien was his Robin.
So nightwing starts wearing a cape, and the people of his city starts coming up with all sorts of theories for the sudden change. The range from him practicing because he’s taking over the cowl to him hiding new gadgets. Very few have seen Danny and those who have are often not believed because, “nightwing had glowing eyes under his cape!” Is not very believable.
He doesn’t wear the cape all the time just when he has Danny, the cape is long the outside is black but the inside has a blue and black feather design so it looks like wings when he glides. It has a feature where it retracts in to a role on his back when he need more freedom of movement. And I’m addition to the cape he now has an extra loop hanging form his belt for Danny to grab on to as the hop rooftops. (Danny can will him self to weigh nothing so dick tends to pull him along as he floats any way)
As the news of dicks sudden costume adjustment is circulating he has to come to the watchtower with B for a mission. Danny tags along hiding in his cape like all the Robin had before him with Bruce. Meanwhile Bruce is totally not going all mushy over his grandson he is totally normal about this. All of the Leagers keep giving dick looks.
Until flash finally ask
Wally: so um nightwing what’s with the cape? I thought you hated them?
Dick*with a bright smile across his face*: it’s for my shadow!
Wally: your shadow? How is a cape ganna hide your shadow.
Dick: no not my actual shadow it’s to hide my bird.
Diana: your bird?
*Dick flares one side of the cape revealing the feathered pattern underneath but nothing else is visible hidden under the cape*
Wally: I don’t se-
Dick: whistles like a bird call
Danny slowly fading in to view giving the league a small wave as he scrambles to hide behind dicks legs: Hello
Hal: really Bruce another one!?
Dick Smiling at the small boy in his cape before closing it : nope this one’s all mine!
Meanwhile John Constantine who is present for this mission is freaked the fuck out. Because that kid with the flowing white hair and glowing freckles is definitely not human. And worse than that from what he can sense it’s pretty darn powerful to. He watches as all of his coworkers are working to get the boy out from hiding cooing over him.
Clark: he’s looking a lot better nightwing
Wally: Waite you already new about him?
Clark: yes the boy is nightwings child I’m guessing he only is just now joining the team
Diana: what’s your name little one?
Danny poking his head out of the cape: phantom my name is phantom
Fuck why was that name familiar? Oh shit that’s right John had heard rumors of the new ghost king and a prince milling around the infinite realms this must be the little ghost prince. How the fuck did dick end up with him? Waite sups said that was dicks kid, hold did dick?
John: ha Oh my god! You crazy fucker you fucked the ghosts king!
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