#Because hes afraid of going back to being pointless
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jovieinramshackle · 2 days ago
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I always try to not be shy about the fact Pio does not pass as a man at all, and that he is in a situation where he cannot take the steps to do so (medically transitioning basically)— not just financially, but mentally too.
He hates his chest, his private parts and the fact they cause hin extreme dysphoria once a month from his period, his voice is audibly feminine, he even has very "soft feminine" features, he is often mistaken for a butch woman and misgendered a lot (he's also very anxious about correcting people, since he's afraid of how they'll react).
And I feel it's important from me to showcase these features, because they’re part of a realty many transmasc/guys/men like me go through.
The thing about Pio is that he has an extremely hard time believing he's a "real man". Almost everything in his life is an active reminder that society does not see him as a man, and he has internalised it. He is happy the people close to him (his father, Chris and his family) confirm they see him as a man, but he has a hard time genuinely believing they actually do, because he can't possibly say the same about himself.
He's on the verge of giving up sometimes, to detransition, to go back being [REDACTED] and be a woman again. He thinks it will make life easier. After all, it'll be easier to socialise, talk to people, and even find a partner. Pio is gay after all, but what gay man would love a "woman," right? Straight men must be his only option, right?
But it won't be easier, it will outright kill.
And this is why his relationship with Fellow is so crucial to him. For all his faults, the fox did one very important thing right in the relationship— love Pio for the man that he is.
Fellow didn't always have the right words, but he knew words weren't really gonna help such a dysphoric person like Pio. The constant and consistent love and support over time was what made Pio realise how genuine Fellow was with him.
Intimacy felt less uncomfortable, it actually became enjoyable. He could actually bare his features, even if a little. He actually grow to like his voice a little, even if he's fine with it changing. Everything just became a little easier when he was with Fellow, he could actually see himself as desirable, to an other queer man no less.
He began thinking that perhaps he is a man, regardless of everything. This reduction of his dysphoria was what made him more motivated to seek medical transition later one, as he finally could think to himself, "this isn't pointless." He realised nothing can stop him from being the man that he is.
Even after their falling out during their work in Playful Land, Pio still had this drive in him. He went back to his father and started working, slowly saving up to seek a way to get his hands on HRT. And although he has a long way to go, he is for once finally determined to do what he must do for his well being.
He kinda spiralled for a while because of the falling out. He even began relying on alcohol for a bit. But this new profound drive carried him every day and kept him alive.
So basically, as angry as he is with Fellow, he will always be grateful for all the genuine love and desire he was given. It, quite literally, saved his life.
So yeah ofc they make up in the end, what did you expect, to not give them a happy ending? Poser./j
@sunnysidesevenup @theolivetree123 tagging you two cuz...Pio Lore....heh....<3
tag list : @ramshacklerumble @thehollowwriter @summerspook @scint1llat3 @skriblee-ksk
@cyanide-latte @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @oya-oya-okay @viperbunnies @jadelover69
@twsted-void @lallopsyou (lmk/dm if you wanna be added)
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theelmoarchive · 11 months ago
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An extreme cringe Jam post because ‼️‼️‼️ i am free
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Id like to remind everyone that they are cringefail losers 🎉🎉🎉
Also please Ignore that I mispelled mischievous
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kurooh · 1 month ago
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❆ BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE !
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KINKMAS 2024 — holiday hatefucking + sukuna ryōmen
❆ desc. a record breaking blizzard blasts through your city, causing thousands of power outages & frozen pipes. what’re you & your sworn enemy of a roommate to do when it seems to last all night?
❆ warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, hatefucking, some degradation, pussy slaps, orgasm control, arguing, resolving misunderstandings, facesitting, one bed trope. | 6.0k words
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“just like everything else, this is all your fault!”
“really, princess? last i checked, i can’t control fucking climate change.”
sukuna’s always been testing your patience, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with daily arguments and snarky comments. you let out a peeved sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. “of course you’d refer to weather as climate change. if i were you, i’d at least mask my stupidity better.”
“tch,” he manages, wordlessly rolling his eyes as he lamely tries to think of a comeback. anger boils in his stomach and burns through his veins, hot as magma. “you’re calling me stupid when you’re the one who fell into the toilet a few days ago, at three in the morning.”
“yes, and that happened because my inconsiderate asshole of a roommate didn’t put the lid down!”
“you deserved it,” sukuna scoffs, dismissing you with a wave of his hand as he turns on his heel. “go take your toilet ass to bed. g’night.”
you’re fuming with anger, but there’s no point in saying anything now that he’s walking away with no intention to listen to you. sukuna’s footsteps disappear into the darkness of his room, and he slams the door behind him.
how insufferable.
living with sukuna ryōmen meant you could never catch a break. between his occasional apartment-trashing parties and stormy demeanor, there was zero chance to turn things around. the feuds had started not long after you first met, and surprisingly, the two of you had actually hit it off pretty well.
your first meeting took place on a street corner downtown, right in the middle of the college district. after a horrible date, you had found yourself waiting on the corner for your delayed uber when sukuna pulled up on his motorcycle, extending his hand. at the time, you didn’t question his kindness, wrapping your arms around him and talking his ear off about being a student. he dropped you off at your apartment and offered to help you sign a new lease, after you had confessed how hard it was living in a dorm with so many fees.
initially, living with sukuna went well. the sexual tension was at an all-time high, but the two of you were always too busy (or afraid?) to make a move on it, so you remained friends. it was when his friends came over for a party during an important study night for you that things changed for the worse. they had been lounging on the couch, drunk and talking way too loudly about you.
remembering the things they said about you still makes you grind your teeth as you stomp down the hallway, pausing at the darkened screen of the thermostat.
“sukuna!” you yell, reading the numbers. “the temperature’s dropping further!”
“. . it’s a power outage,” he calls back after a moment, his voice muffled by the door. “what do you expect?”
it’s pointless but it makes you feel better, so you raise your middle finger to his door before walking off to your room. your door swings open, and you slide off your slippers, preparing to get into bed and wait it out, but you’re met with the not so soft material of the bare mattress.
oh, that’s right.
not long ago, the tv had been glowing with endless reports of the incoming blizzard. it was supposed to hit the city full force in a few hours. expecting a power outage, you’d thrown all of your sheets and blankets into the wash so you’d sleep well during the night in a warm, clean bed. it was as if the blizzard had a personal score to settle—it barreled through the city and prepared to stay, leaving hundreds of people without power or functioning pipes due to the freeze.
now that your apartment has no electricity at all, your sheets and blankets are left soaking in the washing machine downstairs. instead of breaking down and screaming out of frustration, you manage to pull it together with a few deep breaths before marching over to sukuna’s room. it’s entirely sickening that you even have to ask him for something like this, but you put the thought out of your mind and raise your closed fist to the door.
sukuna’s ears twitch when he hears the thumping at his door, and he gets out of his bed to go investigate. he rubs the tiredness away from his eyes and opens the door to see you standing in front of him.
“what now? did you come to tell me it’s snowing outside?”
“no, i didn’t,” you grit out, wringing your hands together, “remember i put my all my bedding in to be washed?”
“remember when i told you not to?”
“yes, thank you!” you reply brightly, “they’re currently soaking in the washing machine and i have nowhere to sleep without getting a bad case of hypothermia.”
“hm. you could always try the couch and some paper towels from the kitchen,” he suggests dryly, pulling the door shut. stubbornly, you push your foot in the way to stop him. “woman,” he clicks his tongue disapprovingly, “if you think i won’t slam this door on your foot, you are sorely mistaken.”
it’s a risk you’ll have to take; you don’t budge an inch, looking up at him furiously. “just for tonight, i’m asking you to let me sleep in your bed.”
“i thought you hated me,” he hisses, “i could feel your little middle finger through the door.”
“i do, but if you had this problem, i’d actually help you, because i’m a good person!”
“keep telling yourself that,” sukuna rolls his eyes dramatically, letting his jaw go slack to mock your stupidity, “i would never have this kind of problem, because i’m not as dumb as you are.”
the wooden edge of the door starts to press into your slipper and a rush of panic strikes you square in the chest. your jaw tightens as hesitate, frustrated with the idea you have to convince him with. finally, your lips part, and the words tumble out sloppily, piling up into a debt you’ll be obligated to pay. “fine, fine . . . sometime i can make it up to you. i’ll even clean up the apartment after a party without any lip.”
sukuna crosses his arms, and the veins ripple beneath the skin with the movement. “oh, i hadn’t thought of that. i would love to see you clean the place without complaining as you usually do. although . . you did say anything.”
“yes, that’s right.”
where is he going with this?
his crimson eyes gleam with some kind of wolfish delight as he mulls over everything he could possibly impose on you. “perhaps i’ll save it and torment you while i think of something.”
“so, can i share the bed?” you urge, slipper tapping on the carpet impatiently.
sukuna offers a hand, and you can feel his black nails dig into your skin when you accept it. he moves out of the doorway at last, sticking out his foot and successfully making you stumble. you nearly faceplant into the carpet but manage to save yourself, biting your tongue even though all you want to do is shout at him.
sukuna simply gets into bed and tugs the blankets over his body, but he looks over at you in confusion when he notices you stacking a wall of pillows between your bodies.
“god, i am not that vile. i showered earlier and i washed my sheets yesterday,” he grouses, eyebrows pulling downwards in annoyance.
“i’m sure you did,” you assuage him dismissively, “i just wanna make sure we don’t touch once in the time that we sleep in this bed.”
sukuna fiddles with his silver lip piercings, tongue prodding into the backings impatiently while his fingers twist at the small spikes. “damn. are you done yet? goodnight.”
“goodnight.” you mutter, dropping down hard against the bed with your back facing his.
sukuna is what every daredevil wishes they could be. he is unique, with different piercings and dark, sharply lined tattoos that compliment his features naturally. all of his piercings had been acquired from bets or dares—he’d gotten his eyebrow done after his brother yuji beat him in a fight (he let him win because he wanted the piercing), his snake bites because he’d been dared (he did it himself with a hot needle and bent paperclips to keep the holes open since it was 1 am and all the jewelry stores were closed), and his ears when he won an eating contest (it was on yuji’s dime, so he got the most expensive jewelry too).
as you drift off, feeling warmer beneath all the blankets, you feel the tension leaving your body. for tonight, you’ll let go of your anger towards him and enjoy the pleasant moment and his rare generosity.
your eyes blearily open to the soft rays of morning sunlight shining through the gaps between the curtains, illuminating the dust in their thin columns over the bed. you let out a yawn, snuggling further into the soft pillows you’d set up the night before—but then your heart jumps into your throat and heat sears its away across your face when you register the warm body nestled against yours.
the position is so natural that it’s as if you slept like this for hours; it’s abhorrent, seeing sukuna sleeping like a baby, his breaths nothing more than quiet huffs into your neck. as the vestiges of sleep start to fade away, you’re all too aware of the sculpted muscle pressing firmly against your body. at some point, sukuna decided to take off his shirt, as evidenced by his bare chest against you.
outside, the sky looks to be a little cloudy, and the branches of bare trees are weighed down with layers of snow. looks like the blizzard came to a stop sometime in the middle of the night.
sukuna’s hand squeezes your side lightly, and he lets out a soft groan, tugging you closer. “ew, what the hell!?” you jerk back immediately, heart pounding wildly in your chest like a caged bird. an uncomfortable heat settles over you as the reality of the situation fully sinks in. he’s still asleep, fumbling around to grip onto you. your breath catches in your throat with each of his confused movements, and the warmth of his strong body leaves you dazed for a moment before you consider how wrong this feels. he firmly grabs ahold of your ass to pull you in, and you gasp, slapping his arm as hard as you can.
“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”
he grunts out a curse, letting go of you and blinking awake slowly. his once relaxed face quickly shifts into one of annoyance, and he fixes you with a displeased glare.
“what’s your problem now, woman?”
“you were cuddling me, man.”
sukuna rolls his eyes so hard you wonder if they’ll ever return to their original place.
“to wake me up over something that trivial is ridiculous. it was a cold night and likely happened by accident.”
“no, sukuna!” you protest, hips swiveling as you push yourself into a sitting position. he hisses, jaw clenching firmly; the words die in your throat when you realize the problem—rather, his problem.
“wipe that fucking look off your face,” he snaps automatically. “ever heard of morning wood?”
“excuse me? you were all over—”
immediately, sukuna claps a hand over your mouth, his palm feeling hot against the lower half of your face. your words are muffled, but he knows you’re swearing and protesting at him—the way your eyebrows angrily move tells him enough.
eventually, you go still, opting to lick his skin. he recoils in disgust, wiping his sticky palm on your shirt to get it off. “you’re nasty, woman.”
“that’s not what you were thinking when you were wrapped around me like a koala five minutes ago.”
he doesn’t even know what to say. anger and something more bubbles up fast, scorching through his body before it finally exits through his mouth. “shut the fuck up. you started it last night, pulling me in and shit.”
“me?” you burst out incredulously, eyebrows furrowing as you lean forward, your stare burning holes the size of bullets into his face. “you’re the one who’s embarrassed for having enjoyed it, if your face is any indicator. you know how much i hate you, i’d never—”
you’re too close. beneath the blankets and sheets, your lower body thrashes while you speak, hips knocking into his a few times. each touch has his cock growing harder, throbbing painfully beneath his boxers and pajama pants.
“god, if you’d just stop touching me!” he barks, cheeks ultra hot now. sukuna’s lips pull into a scowl and he glares at you, annoyed with your sudden cluelessness.
“what is your problem now?!”
“it’s you,” he shouts, throwing off the blanket and startling you. “it’s always been you. since we moved in, since the blizzard, since i even agreed to sharing a bed with you! you’re always—” sukuna’s voice splinters and he swallows, pushing forward, leaving mere inches between your faces. “fuck. you’re always driving me insane.”
“back off,” you hiss, voice trembling. a crackling tension hangs in the air between you, heavy with unspoken words and growing anticipation.
“make me.”
“you’re really asking for it, aren’t you, sukuna?”
his lips curl into a wolfish smile and his eyes gleam with a similar intensity, anger blending with something more carnal. “maybe you can show me how much you love to hate me, princess.”
the demeaning nickname falls from his lips easily, as it always does, and you’re determined to make him choke on it.
“don’t you ever shut up?” your nose crinkles at the puffs of breath that brush over your lips. one of sukuna’s eyebrows quirks upward challengingly—your voice no longer has the bite it usually does.
“i only would if you let me use my mouth another way.”
your heart hammers in your chest, and anger still rushes through every inch of your body, but it’s much hotter now, leaving your skin sweltering beneath your clothes. giving in to sukuna ryōmen is a mistake—he’s your insufferable roommate who regularly makes your fists clench with anger, but he’s also the object of your deepest desires.
you’re too far in to back away now.
“go ahead,” you pause to let out a breath. “right now, i’m all yours.”
when you finally lean in to close the distance, your lips collide in a kiss that’s equal parts animosity and desire. it isn’t gentle, and it isn’t soft—it’s raw and furious, so overwhelming he loses himself and pulls you in, black nails digging crescents into your skin. in a manner that’s just as forceful, your hand finds its way to the nape of his neck and yanks him in, causing your teeth to click together sharply. the hungry kiss deepens, and his tongue slips into your mouth, stroking against your own. the deep-seated anger and tension that had been piling on top of each other is finally dissolving into something far worse—something so intoxicating you begin to wonder how you were living without it.
sukuna pulls back breathlessly, unable to look anywhere but your face. a small, glossy string of saliva connects your lips together, a sign of an encouragement to test the waters and continue. surely a heated makeout session would lead you to a crossroads, where you’d be left wondering how much further this could go, with only each other to figure it out.
sukuna coughs out a rueful laugh. “it’s funny, isn’t it?"
“what is it?” you demand, lips tingly from the kiss.
“i find it amusing this took so long to happen. of course, it was bound to eventually.”
“well, it’s only because you can’t keep it in your pants, sukuna.”
“and you can’t keep yours on,” he retorts, hooking his fingers into the flimsy waistband of your pajama pants before sliding them off your legs. now, only a thin layer of fabric hides the place he wants to see most. effectively silenced and now matching his black underwear, you take him in, eyes sweeping over his features. beneath his black tattoos, his skin flushes red, all the way up to the tips of his ears; his mouth is slick and shiny with a mixture of your spit and his own, and the silver spikes beneath his lip gleam temptingly.
“what’s wrong?” he questions expectantly, fingers curling around your chin with surprising force and tugging you forward. “cat got your tongue?”
“maybe i’m just waiting for the right moment to pounce,” you push forward stubbornly, forcing him onto his back so you can straddle him. you silence anything he would’ve said with another kiss, and sukuna’s hands travel from your hips to your ass. he gifts it with a squeeze and a pleasured groan slips out against your lips before he slides his fingers into your underwear.
the rough pads of his fingertips stroke over the skin of your ass while you suck on his tongue impatiently, hips occasionally rolling against his own. to add to each movement of your hips, you tease him a little more, using your teeth to lightly tug at the jewelry of his lip piercings. each moment of friction is something between solace and torture for his cock—it’s adequate, but it’s not enough and he’s dying for more.
you smile against his lips, sneaking a hand between your bodies to play with his cock. it’s an experimental gesture to test the waters, see how he reacts; the moment your fingers come into contact with his thick bulge, he groans, leaning up. one squeeze has him rushing to sit up so quickly his forehead knocks into yours. ordinarily, sukuna would’ve made a scathing comment, but he doesn’t have much to say when he grabs ahold of your wrist and pushes it into his boxers.
it’s a decision that further stokes the long burning fire that’s been ablaze beneath all the arguments and unbearable conversations; it’s something that has it roaring into an all consuming inferno.
“fuck,” sukuna chokes out, nipples hard against your loose shirt while he rests his hands on your ass. “you’re making me fucking crazy.”
you ignore him, rolling your eyes dismissively at his heavy panting and clenching abs. instead, you focus on lavishing his neck with attention in the form of wet kisses along the skin. he shudders a little as your tongue darts out to wet his skin before he eventually decides he’s had enough and cages you in his arms. you’re startled when you’re caught in something akin to an alligator death roll, opening your eyes to see that you’re pinned down beneath him.
“then do something about it,” you suggest, legs spreading without him having to ask.
sukuna groans deeply, his head spinning at the sight of you being this vulnerable in front of him. “take off that shirt now.”
the demand strikes you hard, his voice reverberating to your core. while you busy yourself with doing as he asked, sukuna kicks the pillows and blankets off the bed before positioning himself on his stomach. now, he’s eye level with your thinly covered pussy. he hasn’t seen it yet, but it’s sure to be everything he’s dreamed of. saliva pools on his tongue while impatience propels him forward, and he skates his fingers along your thighs, taking in the softness of your skin.
it’s not enough to simply touch you.
no, sukuna needs to smell you, taste you, feel you, devour you.
he intends to do so.
“what’re you—?” your voice trembles as you look downwards, nipples hardening at the sensual sight. sukuna’s nose is pressed to your thigh, and he’s breathing in with every inch upwards. you had expected something faster, more filthy, but sukuna’s behaving like he’s absolutely been dying for this.
the dull spikes of his lip piercings press into your plush skin and over a small area of your panties when he finally makes it to your hip. wordlessly, he slips his hands under your ass and raises you up while he takes a bit of your panties between his teeth. slowly, they slide down your legs.
a sweltering heat surges up your neck and to your face while another pools in your tummy like magma beneath a volcano. you writhe on the bed eagerly, too excited to have your panties finally out of the way. those fervent crimson eyes stare at your pussy and watch it flutter around nothing before flickering up to yours.
“don’t blame me if you can’t walk later.”
your face drops in annoyance. “why do you always have to ruin good moments?”
“a warning is hardly enough to ruin this.”
“but—”
a harsh, smarting slap to your pussy has you cutting yourself off with a pitched cry of delight that bounces off the walls and into sukuna’s long term memory. he raises an eyebrow, watching you closely as your legs settle and you return to your spread position.
“you liked it, didn’t you?”
“liked? it hurt.”
“i wouldn’t put it past you,” he says, eyeing your dripping, clenching cunt. “i’ll just do it again.”
you roll your eyes, bucking toward him impatiently. you want him inside you, and he’s hung up on moving slow to torture you.
“whatever. just fuck me alr—”
“ah ah,” he admonishes you with a slap that’s much rougher and directed to your clit. against the mattress, his cock swells with arousal. “i intend to fuck you my way. if you have a problem with that, i’d love to see you fight to be on top.”
tears gather in your eyes, threatening to spill over and cascade down your cheeks. desperation and unbridled need easily shifts to frustration and anger that has you spitting, “i hate you.”
“don’t be like that. you’re soaking wet,” he points out with a self assured smirk. sukuna spreads your thighs impossibly wider and leans in, letting the tip of his nose graze your clit. the featherlight touch makes your skin prickle all over.
to be honest, you didn’t expect the events of last night to lead you here in the morning. in fact, you assumed you’d wake up on your respective sides of the bed and argue a little about snoring before departing. since most of your interactions usually go that route, this entire situation is shocking—but a small part of you is extremely thankful it’s finally happening.
there had been days so tense you’d considered sex as a solution, but never brought it up.
“s-sukuna!” you moan helplessly, grabbing at the sheets and twisting them beneath your fingers. with his teeth, he playfully nibbles at your folds, savoring the sudden catch of breath in your throat and whimpery cries. your quivering legs settle over his shoulders, and he appreciates the change, utilizing the new angle to pull you closer.
that sharp tongue of his can certainly do more than hurl creative insults all day long—it’s killer, and entirely hypnotic as he sloppily mouths at your cunt. wet slurps and lewd smacks of his lips have you shuddering, eyes rolling back into your skull.
“‘kuna,” you whine, long and drawn out, “don’t stop, d-don’t fuckin’ stop.”
he pushes his thumb into your clit and looks up, lips shiny with your bittersweet slick. “what did you just call me?”
“sukuna,” you lie nervously, trembling beneath his touch and craving more.
“now, girl,” he scoffs, and the new nickname doesn’t sound as demeaning as the usuals. “that isn’t what you said. go ahead and say it again for me.”
you look him in the eyes, feeling small beneath his heavy gaze. “‘kuna. that’s what i said.”
sukuna offers a gratified hum before returning to your sloppy pussy. a glob of spit sparkles in the morning light as it slips down your hole, making more of a mess. “keep calling me that, i like it.”
white hot euphoria zips through sukuna’s nerves as he dines on the wet dessert your pussy is. it’s the best breakfast he could’ve ever had—sweet as sugar and made even better with your decadent moans spurring him on. oh, the way you shakily card your hands through his hair and let your nails scratch over his scalp . . each electrifying touch shoots straight to his cock, and he discreetly ruts into the matress.
his tongue dips between your folds and he groans against you, eyes rolling back when you squeeze down on him like a vice. the once cold room is hot, your bodies feeling feverish from your own shared heat—if you were outside, you’d have melted the snow into puddles.
sukuna has always had an abnormally long tongue. he ponders your reaction to him pushing deeper, but the fluttering of your walls leaves no room for second thoughts.
“sukuna, holy fuck,” you sob, a tear or two running down the bridge of your nose. “y-your tongue, it’s so big—w-wait, wait a second.”
it’s painful to lose the fullness of his tongue, but you pull back and cup his face in your hands, looking down at him with a desperate look he won’t be able to refuse. “can . . can i ride your face, ‘kuna?”
you’re so cute with that little pout and those glossy eyes begging for more. sukuna smiles meanly, the lower half of his face dripping with your essence while his teeth gleam sharply.
“you liked my tongue that much, huh?” you nod, looking a little dazed as he gets onto his back. he helps you swing a leg over him, but before you sit down, his hand lands hard against your ass. “shit, you’re such a dirty girl. jus’ begging for me to get you off, aren’t cha? show me how much you fucking want it.”
you whimper, gasping out some kind of affirmative answer. sukuna tenses his tongue and sticks it upwards, then tugs you down impatiently.
“shit!” you squeal, startled by how fucking long his tongue is. it fills you up almost entirely, probably an inch and a half short of your cervix. whiny ooh’s and ah’s fall from your lips as you unsteadily rut your hips into his face, grinding your clit hard into his nose. “sukuna, ‘m close, you’re gonna make me cum . . ”
“you’re gonna make yourself cum, girl. ‘s all you.”
his voice is muffled, but you can somewhat hear him over the lewd squelches and noisy moans that fill the room. despite it all, he’s got stars in his eyes as he watches you ride his tongue to oblivion—stringy drool slips past your lips and your tits bounce deliciously while your face crumbles in euphoria.
“oh my god,” you weep, voice breaking, “‘m gonna cum on your fuckin’ tongue—”
one blissful tremor is the precursor to so many more. your jaw becomes slack and tears run down your face as you finally reach your high.
“‘kuna, ‘m cumming!”
the stifling tightness in your tummy finally snaps and leaves you a convulsing mess on his tongue, shaking so hard your teeth inevitably begin to chatter. sukuna smacks his lips, almost entirely satisfied—but then he roughly lifts you and sits you down on his chest.
you’ve got hearts in your eyes and you’re obviously drunk on him, ready for more.
“clean it up,” he demands, tilting his head to the side. without question, you lean forward and kiss him, tasting yourself with a moan. a groan rumbles deep in his chest when you pull back and start to sloppily lick at his cheek, tongue running over his tattoos. “good girl.”
“sukuna, i need—i want . . ” you flounder breathlessly, unsure of how to ask him.
he slaps your ass, scarlet eyes darkening lustfully. sukuna clicks his tongue, egging you on. “beg for it.”
“beg?” you ask incredulously, grinding your cunt into his abs. “i hate begging.”
“then you don’t get what you want, simple as that.”
“but—”
“no buts, girl.”
“f-fine,” you cede, afraid of being left unsatisfied, “please, i need your cock inside me . . i need you to fuck me hard.”
“there she is,” sukuna coos, flipping you over and reversing your positions so he’s above you, “my nasty slut. you’re all mine, aren’t you?”
you nod weakly, which has him flipping you onto your stomach and huskily growling into your ear. “fucking say it, princess.”
“all yours,” you slur your words, limply letting him maneuver your body.
“on your knees,” he pauses to gather your wrists together behind your back, pulling you toward him. “that’s right.”
with his free hand, sukuna tugs his boxers down so quickly the fabric audibly tears, and he tosses them over his shoulder.
the room is a disaster. blankets and sheets hang off the foot of his bed while pillows litter the carpeted floor in every direction. not to mention the discarded pajamas and underwear scattered around as well, evidence of the storm between yourself and your roommate.
your cunt is throbbing by the time he guides the tip of his spit slicked cock between your folds. it’s bulbous and fucking huge as it presses into you, slow and deep. sukuna tosses his head back with a loud groan when his cock bottoms out, pulsing against your cervix.
“loosen up, girl,” he grunts, your sticky walls bearing down hard around his cock, “can’t fucking move.”
“w-wait,” you whimper, nearly falling forward. your jaw hangs open loosely as you try to fathom the stretch and fullness his cock imposes. “‘kuna, you’re too big, i can’t—”
“please, this sloppy pussy was made for me,” he huffs, drawing his hips back and leaving merely the tip of his cock inside of you. “jus’ take it. you can and you will.”
he says nothing else before shoving forward, plunging his cock as deep as it can go inside you. it thickly pushes past rings of muscle and stretches you open, filling your ears with wet squelches. he sets a ruthless rhythm into place, focusing on taking your ability to walk tomorrow. tears pathetically pour down your cheeks and fall from your jaw to the damp sheets below, and you no longer can control all the noise you’re making. babbled cries of yes! and inaudible moans fall from your bitten lips, all of it spurring sukuna on.
“hah, shit,” he rasps, unable to tear his eyes away from where you’re connected—his cock slides in and out of your creamy pussy rapidly, the smacks of skin against skin sounding like an applause. “b-been waiting for this, goddamn.”
“i thought you hated me,” you wail desperately, feeling each thrust of his cock in your lungs. whenever the tip roughly kisses your cervix, your cunt squeezes around him while you cry out something incomprehensible.
sukuna pushes his tongue into his cheek, digging his black nails into your wrists tightly. “you were the one who hated me the whole time.”
“i-i didn’t!” you protest weakly, struggling to recall what you were just about to say. “it was you who started it—with your friends!”
“what’d we do?” he groans, pushing his free hand through his hair to remove the strands sticking to his sweaty forehead.
“uh, you—right there!—you were . . ”
“did i already fuck you dumb, girl?” sukuna snarks, his palm coming down hard across your ass. “can’t even remember, hm? perhaps if you weren’t so busy slutting yourself out for me you’d have something to fuckin’ say.”
his words are bitter, but they manage to help you recall your memory. “you were talking shit about me, a-and you threw that party the night before a big test i had—shit, ‘m gonna cum!”
“ah ah,” he snaps, voice edged with something domineering and dangerous. you’re pulled back by your numb wrists, and sukuna leans forward to speak directly into your ear: “you don’t get to cum until i fuckin’ tell you to. now, girl—finish that story for me.”
a miserable sob tears past your lips, “sukuna, i-i can’t, ‘m gonna cum right now—”
your wrists are released, making you fall forward into the mattress. your head can’t stop spinning and you’re in no state to catch yourself, so instead you accept the new position mutely.
the palm of sukuna’s hand presses into the crown of your head and his nails dig into your scalp while his warm breath fans against the shell of your ear. “don’t you fucking dare,” he hisses arbitrarily. “i said to finish the story.”
“i-i heard them saying horrible things about me!” you babble gaspingly, “i think you went along with it . . i didn’t hear you telling them to stop.”
“so that’s why you hated me?”
“yes! god, but i didn’t really—i wanted to talk about it s-sometime, but not right now!”
he chuckles ruefully, letting your head go. “now, girl. if i’d known something so stupid was the reason you’ve supposedly hated me, i would’ve taken care of it much sooner.”
you cry into the sheets, feeling the telltale throb of his thick cock deep inside you. “please—please lemme cum!” the words slur together, making you sound truly cock drunk.
“alright, princess,” sukuna hisses, teeth sinking into his lower lip, “go ‘head and let it allll out. cum all over this fucking cock, lemme feel it.”
stars flicker across your vision, and you cum with a broken cry that tears from your throat almost painfully. your gummy walls grip him like a vice, sucking the cum out of his cock. with a drawn out groan, he finally cums, collapsing on top of you and panting into your shoulder.
as you come down together, high pitched beeps fill the house. the microwave and oven come back to life, and the lights in every room snap on as the power is restored at last.
“goddamn,” he huffs, pulling you into a sideways spooning position without letting his cock slip out of you.
“tired?” you ask hoarsely, tired eyes running over his sweaty, flushed face. “clearly, that took a lot out of you.”
“me?” sukuna barks in offense. “look at you, you’re the one covered in tears.”
you pull out of his arms, whimpering breathily as his cock slides out of your pulsing cunt. the base of it is covered in creamy rings while the rest of his length shines wetly. sukuna spreads your trembling thighs and groans loudly at the sight—frothy globs of cum spill from your weeping hole, which clenches around nothing hungrily.
truthfully, sukuna would never be able to rid himself of the memory of your cunt swallowing his cock eagerly. the slip and slide paired with the immense heat had nearly made him cum on the spot . .
sukuna’s chest heaves with each breath as he lolls his head to the side to observe you. “for the record, i’m no longer friends with those vile people. cut it off right after they came into my home and started talking shit about you.”
embarrassment crashes over you like a wave. “wait, you never told me about that!”
“you stopped talking to me and decided to be argumentative all the goddamn time.”
you roll your eyes, looking off the bed awkwardly. a few pillows are scattered on your side, and you reach over to pick them up, tossing them to the foot of the bed.
“anyway, how did my pillow wall get destroyed?”
“don’t get upset.”
“what did you do?” you question him accusingly, narrowing your eyes at him.
“after you fell asleep, i moved two of them.”
“i used six different pillows!”
he dismisses you with a wave of his hand, smirking at the frustrated shock that takes over your features. “i thought it’d help me figure out what your problem was in the morning. obviously, it did.”
you snatch a pillow and hit him right in the face with it, savoring the moment of justice like high quality chocolate. “there. that’s what you get.”
sukuna rips the pillow from your hands and hurls it across the room, turning over to you with a wicked smile playing on his lips.
“you were saying?”
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 8 days ago
Text
Mama, I’m in love with a criminal 4
Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, prisoner!Sukuna, modern au, no curse au, dead dove, vivid descriptions of violence including murder and sexual assault, dark romance trope, angst, read at your own discretion
Synopsis: Sukuna is in prison because of you. He's ordered to undergo weekly counseling sessions. Talking to his counselor about you, it's apparent that his obsession with you is quite concerning.
An: Reminder, this story is dark. Take care of your mental health first. Sexual assault will be briefly mentioned, but it will not be written about in detail. Sukuna is diagnosed with borderline personality disorder at the end of this session. I want to make it clear that it is not my intention to offend anyone with this diagnosis or demonize this diagnosis. It is used to make him feel more real, and it furthers the plot. Hope you guys enjoy… only one last part after this one <3.
Session one. | Session two. | Session three. | Session four.
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The counselor hadn't had time to do any more digging into Sukuna's case files this week. It was the end of the year — holidays were coming up, and that meant that annual paperwork on all of his patients were due.
His caseload was becoming too much to manage all on his own. He was thankful that the jail was finally consulting him about hiring a social worker to help out with the workload.
Checking Sukuna's chart briefly, the counselor inhaled sharply. It was finally time to talk about the crime that landed him in prison. Sure, the counselor could drag this out. He could talk about every petty theft or assault case Sukuna had been charged with, but those were pointless to talk about in the grand scheme of things.
As if on cue, a large buzzer sounded, and Sukuna was shoved into the room with the counselor before promptly being locked inside. He was shackled as always, but his demeanor was different today.
He didn't have that calloused grin or careless attitude. He sat down on the couch with a small grunt before immediately laying his head back against the piece of furniture. His throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly.
It was as if Sukuna knew what the counselor was going to bring up today.
"How are you holding up this week, Sukuna?" The counselor asked. Normally, they'd skip pleasantries, but the counselor sensed that Sukuna needed some priming before he got to talking.
"How am I holding up?" Sukuna echoed with a humorless laugh before shaking his head. "Don't ask stupid fucking questions. This is a prison not a 10 hour shift at a fucking factory."
Well, so much for priming.
"You don't want to talk about her today?" The counselor asked, tapping his pen against his paper. "Or is there something you're not wanting to relive."
"I can talk about her until my lungs give out." Sukuna muttered in a pained tone. He rubbed his face with his hands, cuffs clinking around in the process. He groaned as he put his hands down. "Tell me what you think I don't want to relive." He finally demanded, turning the tables on the counselor.
The counselor widened his eyes as he was put on the spot. He immediately avoided Sukuna's lifeless glare. He was definitely testing him right now — seeing if he kept up on his homework.
"You're not afraid of reliving your own pain. You don't want to relive mouse's pain." The counselor finally muttered out, using his knowledge of Sukuna to help guide him through his analysis.
Sukuna grunted in response, and the counselor took it as approval to keep going. "You weren't there to protect her. You feel like it's a failure on your end that what happened to her happened."
Sukuna's fists clenched, and his jaw tightened, but this didn't feel like his typical anger. It wasn't directed at anyone else besides himself.
"You got there a little too late. You saw what was happening to her, and you went into a blind rage. Your normal brutal, methodical, unique style to killing your victims went out the window. He needed to die right then, didn't he?" The counselor pressed on. He kept his hands on his lap to defend himself in case he said anything that teetered the line. Though, there really was no defending himself against Sukuna's hulking figure.
"He didn't deserve to live." Sukuna's voice was a low growl. His heart was pounding against his ribcage as he was reminded of his last moments with you before he incarceration.
The prisoner suddenly reached out, and the counselor flinched far back into his seat upon reflex, but Sukuna was faster. He grabbed the counselor by his dress shirt, and he patted around on his body. "I know you record these sessions, doc. I want this next part to be off the record." He demanded as he continually searched for a recording device.
The counselor tried fighting him off, but Sukuna was still stronger while he was handcuffed. "Fine-! Here! All you had to do was ask for this part to be off the record." The counselor shouted before he threw his pen over to Sukuna.
His pen had a secret recording device hidden inside, and it was promptly cut off when Sukuna snapped the pen in half without a second thought. He then threw it at the wall, ensuring that nothing would be listening in on what he was about to say.
Sitting back in his seat, he let out another stressed sigh. His twin brother's murder was a well kept secret thanks to his skills of covering up evidence, but this was his best kept secret. It physically pained him to say the words out loud.
"Mouse wanted a normal... domestic life, and I wanted to give her whatever she asked for. I started an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop, and I worked at a bike shop on the side so she could focus on figuring out what she wanted to do with life." He started off slowly. The counselor was still rattled from their physical altercation, but he was already enthralled by Sukuna's story telling abilities.
"I didn't care what I did as long as I got to be in her life. Coming home after sixteen hour shifts felt like paradise when I got to slide into bed next to her. She was the only piece of heaven that I'll ever see." Sukuna went on. His eyes were aimed at the broken pen in the corner, fully reliving what it was like to just be yours.
"Your tattoos... those came from your apprenticeship?" The counselor asked, finally taking the time to ask about the markings that covered Sukuna's body and face.
The prisoner looked at his arms and shook his head. "No, these came from over the years." He said as he slowly rose from the chair. He unbuttoned the jumpsuit and shoved it down around his waist to reveal a white undershirt that covered his broad, muscular torso.
Sukuna clearly had nothing else better to do other than work out while he was incarcerated.
The marking covered his neck, shoulders, arms, back, and chest. The counselor marveled at them for a minute, wondering how long Sukuna had to sit in a chair for all of them to be completed.
"As a gift for finishing my apprenticeship, Mouse and I got tattoos together." Sukuna explained before he raised his undershirt up. Right there on his right ribcage — a detailed portrait style tattoo of just your eyes stared back at the counselor.
Your eyes alone could tell a million words. They were gates directly to your soul. The counselor didn't know what you looked like. Your face had been scrubbed from every news outlet that reported on Sukuna's case, and the counselor couldn't remember if he saw your face in court or not.
"Does she have your eyes tattooed as well?" The counselor asked. It was the safer option because he was sure that Sukuna would probably kill him if he complimented your eyes.
"She had this-" he gestured to the tattoo that was placed on his forehead directly between his eyes, "tattooed on her back, and I tattooed my name across her ribcage in the same place I have her eyes tattooed." Sukuna explained before he redressed himself and sat back down.
"She also has a tiny mouse tattooed behind her ear. All of her work is done by me." He explained.
"Wait- You didn't come up with mouse on the spot?" The counselor asked. "That nickname actually has any meaning?"
Sukuna snickered from the counselor's assumptions. "Nah. When we were little and she wasn't talking to me yet, I use to tease her and say she was as quiet as a church mouse."
The counselor gave a small laugh, and he allowed for the silence to fill the room once more, signaling that Sukuna should get back on topic.
"I was working late most nights, and I told her it'd be worth it once I started making some real money. I just wanted to give her the life she never had. I could've provided her with peace." Sukuna explained, his eyes going back dull as all the fun was sucked right back out of the conversation.
"One night, she wanted to surprise me with my favorite dinner. I always told her not to go out alone at night. She usually waited for me to get off work if she needed to go to the store, but I guess she was worried about burdening me... foolish girl." He muttered as he stared down at his palms.
The counselor swallowed harshly, knowing what was coming next. He normally wasn't so emotionally invested in his client's lives, but Sukuna had a way of drawing him in. He was rooting for you even if he knew the result of what happened that night.
"She wasn't stupid though. Mouse was resourceful. She had a heart of gold, but she wasn't naive. She took one of my blade's with her, and she concealed it in her purse." Sukuna explained as his hands picked at the unhealed scabs on his knuckles once again.
"You don't have to go into detail. I'm honestly not sure if I could stomach that-" The counselor admitted. He knew it was unprofessional. He was supposed to be able to shoulder his clients' trauma, but he just didn't know if he could live with Sukuna's version of what happened to you.
"On her way home, that fucking... coward grabbed her. I don't- I don't know how far he got. She wouldn't tell me. I don't know if it was more for my sake or for hers." A shaky breath left his lips. He was grinding his teeth so hard that the counselor was even cringing.
"She managed to send me her location, and I immediately knew something was wrong. I just left the shop — didn't bother locking up or even telling my client where I was going. By the time I got there, my little mouse's clothes were ripped. She was a mess. He was laid out on the ground. The motherfucker died from a few stab wounds, how fucking pathetic."
"What." The counselor said as his jaw dropped. All this time, he was told that Sukuna was only caught because he killed your assailant in a crime of passion, but that wasn't the truth. He had never been baffled like this for his entire career.
"Mouse isn't some defenseless damsel in distress. You think I'd let her walk around if I hadn't taught her self defense?" Sukuna asked as he looked up at the counselor. His jaw was tight and his gaze was narrow. "I'd be damned if I let her walk around without anyway to defend herself after the shit that went down with her dad and his temper."
The counselor stayed silent. Everything he had thought about Sukuna's final murder had been a lie. He didn't kill the poor bastard out of a crime of passion. You had killed your attacker, and Sukuna took the fall for it.
Everything he had done thus far was to protect you — all of it. It was all for you.
"How did any of this end up pinned on you?" The counselor carefully asked while he was still trying to wrack his brain. A part of him wondered if Sukuna was lying, but there was no way Sukuna would lie and risk you getting into trouble for a crime that he committed.
"I have been involved in the justice system for so long. I know how crooked everything is. The district attorneys and judges aren't trying cases fairly and protecting the balance of the justice system. They're doing whatever they can to appease the politicians who have them in their back pockets. They'll sentence a serial rapist to 25 years in jail, but they'll sentence a woman defending herself from a rapist to life in jail. There's no justice in this system."
"I wasn't going to let that shit happen to mouse. I wasn't going to let her name be ruined because she defended herself and did what she had to do. I wasn't going to let her trauma be drug through court. She has so much ahead of her, and I-" Sukuna paused to take a ragged breath. It had been a long time since he had spewed out words so fast.
This was the first time he had ever been able to talk about this to anyone. Everyone fully believes that Sukuna happened to catch the guy assaulting you, and he killed him right then and there. No one knew that he hadn't been there to protect you. You had to resort to protecting yourself, and he fucking loathed the thought of you having to bear the weight of that sick son of a bitch's death on your shoulders.
For two years, he carried this weight around. It had been two years since he was sentenced. Two years since he last saw you.
He let a tear slip past his cheek. Just one -- he didn't bother to wipe it away. It was gone as soon as it had appeared.
"Take your time." The counselor murmured empathetically. This was a major break through with Sukuna. It was something that proved he wasn't a sociopath.
Sukuna could feel emotions. Perhaps, he felt them more than everyone else did. His anger was immediately rage. He was never just sad. Instead, he'd plummet into an unbeatable depression. His happiness felt like pure euphoria, and when he loved, he loved unconditionally hard.
He used you as an anchor for his tidal waves of emotions, basing them on how you acted — the girl who didn't speak and wore a mask around other people. You two were truly made for each other.
If soulmates existed, you two would be the leading example.
Sukuna took another ragged breath, taking just another second to collect his thoughts. "She has so much ahead of her, and I only had her." He managed to grit out.
"Before she could even think about trying to stop me, I ripped the gloves off that I had been using to tattoo my client. I grabbed the blade from her, and I stabbed him 32 times. I brutalized his body to make sure neither the coroner nor the forensic pathologist would be able to distinguish her stab wounds from my own." He explained solemnly. His eyes were void of any emotion while talking about what he did to your assaulter.
"The police were looking for anything to pin on me anyways. They always had thought I got off easy on my juvenile cases, and they suspected I had something to do with Jin's disappearance. They just couldn't prove anything. So, when this opportunity fell into their lap, they ran with it."
"Why didn't you try to hide the body to get away with it?" The counselor asked. Sukuna's crimes were those of cold calculation, and the fact that he made sure to strip off his gloves to taint the blade with his fingerprints proved that he was still very calculated with this murder as well.
"When he grabbed her-" Sukuna's fists tightened in his lap, "he pulled her into dark alleyway at the end of town. Bastard just thought he was going to assault her and leave her stranded in the alley- There was no way for me to move his body without being seen or caught on camera."
"I didn't try to argue when they came for me the next day. I would've willingly surrendered myself if it kept mouse out of trouble. They booked me into the county jail within hours, and I took a plea deal on my second court appearance." He explained as was back to picking at the scabs on his knuckles. They were likely never going to heal if he kept picking at them, making them bleed.
"Why didn't you go for a trial?" The counselor asked. There were ways for Sukuna to be proven not guilty. He probably would've qualified for at least a lesser charge of second degree murder or even manslaughter.
"I knew they'd try to subpoena mouse to testify. They'd drag up her trauma and make a spectacle of her in court. I wasn't going to let them try to convince her that what happened to her wasn't anything less than assault, and I wasn't going to let them retraumatize her." Sukuna spoke firmly, shaking his head.
The counselor honestly found it admirable of him. Most "Bonnie and Clyde" killers would actually turn on each other to get themselves out of trouble, but Sukuna would bear the weight of your crime on his shoulders, and he'd still find other ways to protect you from any negative consequence that he could.
"So, I took a plea deal. I plead guilty to the murder and was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole with weekly 20-minute counseling sessions. In exchange, the district attorney made sure mouse's name was scrubbed from every court document, social media outlet, and news source. They had to act like she was in the witness protection program." Sukuna explained with a sigh. It was another way to protect you.
The counselor felt strangely empty. Sukuna's and your story was tragic. A boy who fell madly in love with a silent girl and vowed to protect her from anything. Did he belong in prison for this? Does this excuse him killing your dad? Did this excuse him slaughtering his own flesh and blood? How do they move on from here?
"You were a sensation in court... had your own little fanbase and everything." The counselor hollowly mused, remembering the young women that piled into the courtroom to catch a glimpse of Sukuna. They had idolized him for what he had done. Plus... he was handsome in the most sinful way possible.
Sukuna rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue with annoyance. "The same bitches who praised me for what I had done didn't respect what I was trying to protect. They're always trying to find and leak mouse's name to the public. They don't give a fuck about me or her. They just think our story is perfect for some shitty dark romance novel."
The room fell into a tense silence once more. Neither of the two men knew how to move on from this.
The silence was finally broken with a correctional officer's voice booming through the office. "Ryomen! Your time is up!" He shouted as his fist connected against the door multiple times.
The counselor sighed as Sukuna wordlessly rose from his seat. This session had been worse than either of them could've predicted. "Take care, Sukuna. We will not meet again next week due to the holidays, but I'll see you in two weeks."
The prisoner grunted in response while still walking towards the door. The loud buzzer filled the room once more, and he was let out.
It didn't feel right to watch Sukuna walk back to his pod. The justice system had failed you as a woman, but he was willing to shield you from any harm that threatened to come your way.
𝙲𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝'𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚜: 𝚁𝚂
𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟼
𝙿𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝟹𝟶𝟷.𝟾𝟹 (𝙵𝟼𝟶.𝟹) 𝙱𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚂𝙼-𝟻)
𝚂𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚜: 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 [𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳], 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚜, 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕, 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 [𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳]
𝚃𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙲𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗.
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mrsimpurity · 5 months ago
Note
Perhaps some sfw and nsfw alphabet headcanon for Wolverine?
hi anon! ty for the request
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nsfw alphabet with logan
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
king of aftercare!! prepare yourself for snuggles. logan  smothers you in kisses, carries you to the bathroom and sets you down in the bathtub himself (he’ll join you if he’s up for another round ;) )
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
he loves everything about you, but he’s undoubtedly a thighs man. and not only when it comes to your thighs of course, because he likes to remind you of that one time you were so desperate, you got off on his thigh..
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
no questions asked, logan’s gonna cum inside you (with consent ofc). he’ll spread your legs and push it back inside as it drips out, letting you lick up the remnants of his release on his fingers.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
sometimes, logan waits for you to get out of the bathroom so he can take a shower, because he sees that you’re tired and he’s not too sure he can contain himself if you’re both in there.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
let’s be honest, logan’s over 200 years old, he’s more than experienced. but you don’t mind that. he’s yours and he’s made it clear, so his experience can only benefit you.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
logan loves fucking you in missionary. sure, you riding him is more than nice, but there’s no better feeling than being able to tower over your body as he makes love to you. it makes him feel like a protector, and in return makes you feel safe, especially because you both enjoy the eye contact.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
he’s not really the most serious guy during sex, he’ll definitely let out a chuckle or two, especially when you won’t stop squirming and moaning at his teasing.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
logan is definitely hairy, but the two of you have no problem with that. he’s well groomed down there despite of his hairy chest (you like to tease him about it, but it’s definitely a fav of yours).
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
oh logan doesn’t fuck, he makes LOOOVE. this is one of the most important factors in his relationship with you. he notices if something’s off and communication is key, so sex is definitely the best way for him to apologize, blow off some steam or just show you how much he loves you.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
he doesn’t do it very often. likes “saving himself for you”. also, he finds it pointless. he’s not a teenager, so if you’re not in the mood or just not feeling okay, masturbating or sex in general is the last thing on his mind.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
breeding kink for suuure. just the thought of you filled with his warm cum, or perhaps with a swollen belly, carrying the result of the love between you guys.. he keeps it to himself but you’re pretty much aware of it by now, with all the times he’s come inside you.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
besides the bedroom, of course, logan loves taking you on the kitchen counter. sometimes it’s solely for your pleasure, but the thought of you splayed out for him on the kitchen island in just your bra definitely gets him worked up.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
this one is a no brainer - he loves it when you’re not wearing a bra. this happens only when the two of you are home alone, but it always ends up in the bedroom, especially when you’re wearing that satin cami top of yours, tits spilling out of the flimsy piece of clothing.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
he doesn’t have any hard nos, he’s comfortable with whatever you’re comfortable with, but he’s a little too afraid to try breath play (he’s scared he’s gonna hurt you, the 6’2 hound of a man he is).
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
logan is definitely skilled, his tongue has you needing to be kept down with the palm of his hand on your stomach. he loves watching you squirm and moan as he sucks on your swollen nub.
he doesn’t need you returning the favor, or at least he’d never actually voice it, though the sight of you on your knees, bobbing your head along the length of his cock is definitely engraved in his mind.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
it depends on the situation, but logan’s never actually rough with you, hence why he’s a little too hesitant to slap and push you around, even after you stated multiple times that you were alright with it. that’s just the way he is.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
logan’s not a huge fan of quickies; except for when you’re heading out with a tiny skirt.. trust, he’ll pull it up, come inside of you and fix you up, putting your shoes on and delivering a gentle slap to your ass as you walk out the door. “come on, bub, you don’t wanna be late, do you?”
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
he has no problem experimenting. in fact, he himself suggested that he tie your hands during sex one night and you were appreciative of the idea so that definitely helped the both of you relax a bit.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
your pleasure is of utmost importance to him. he’ll make you come on his fingers or tongue at least once before he even thinks about taking his cock out of his pants. he’d never overwork you though, so your limits are his limits as well.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
he doesn’t use toys, he finds them pointless. “what, my fingers ain’t enough, bub?”
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
logan is a teaseee, i’m telling you. one time, he made you finger yourself while he watched. “come on, doll, you can do better than that. put a second finger inside.”
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
logan definitely lets out a few occasional grunts and curses when he’s deep inside of you. “fuck, you feel so good, baby.”
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
he loves it when you cockwarm him. sometimes it’s just the two of you snuggling on the couch, covered by a mere blanket, but the closeness of the act has his mind going hazy.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
his abs are to die for. whenever the two of you are making out, you put your hands there to steady yourself and to feel him. logan loves the way his body has you going crazy.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
i’d say it’s pretty high. most of the time you’re the one to initiate stuff though. logan likes to tease you about it and he lets it be that way not only because he likes seeing you embarrassed, but because he wouldn’t want to push anything on you.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
he never falls asleep before you!! one time, you were convinced logan sang you to sleep, but he denied it the next morning. to this day, you still remember him humming some lullaby while tracing soft circles on your back.
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eustasskidagenda · 1 year ago
Text
anon asked: Hi, fellow Kid-Stan, I love your writing, it's so well-written! So I hope my request isn't too weird, but would you mind writing some headcanons with a fem reader afraid of having sex with Kidd, Zoro, Law and Sanji if that's okay. Like because the reader is stressed about getting hurt (maybe because of their size or because it’s been a long time since the last time the reader had sex, no heavy topic involved!) Thank you if you consider writing this scenario and please, can I stay anon if you post this?
Hello, dear anon! Thank you for requesting and your kind words, it was interesting to think about how those dummies would act in this situation. I hope you'll like the result.♡
☆Kid, Zoro, Law & Sanji with a s/o afraid of having sex
CW : n/sfw, MDNI, f!reader, size kink, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), v. sex, unprotected sex, protected sex, dirty talk, praises, Sanji talking in French because I could die for this, Kid is cursing as always, let me know if I forgot something
WC : around 2,000
You can read the part two here & the part three here
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Kid
Let's assume it's your first time in the same bed: Kid being... Kid, his first reaction would be to grin cockily or even laugh proudly. He thinks you're actually praising him for his size. Please keep going, it’s music to his ears. He loves praises and when you acknowledge his size. It fuels his ego tremendously. "I know it's big, that's enough praise. Wait, were you talking seriously?" 
Seriously, Kid, ugh. 
So, once he realized you're not praising him but rather really stressed, he's still pleased with himself.
Kid is a man of action; talking, trying to understand, or reassuring is not something he's easily able to do. Because honestly, he would just say something like "it's just sex, I'm not gonna hurt ya, look how wet you are" 
Whenever there's a problem, he's more inclined to take action to find a solution. So his first reaction is to ask if you want to stop. Although he may be cocky and carefree, he would never cause harm to anyone he truly cares about. And no one will have a good time if you're too stressed. Totally pointless. 
So you have to tell him you want to continue, but you're nervous because Kid is not the one to indulge into sweetness and his size doesn't make things more easily. 
"Then, come get what you want by yourself" he would say before laying on his back, his cock twitching impatiently. Kid doesn't often let his partner ride him, except when he's feeling tired. His body is truly a beautiful throne to sit on. A toned and beautiful body, covered with scars, like war paint, full of stories and secrets.
Once you finally straddle him, he would hold your hips firmly as you line your wet pussy up to his cockhead. When you slowly impale yourself on his thick member, he would let out a low, animalistic growl of satisfaction. You feel too tight around him, and you feel too full with him buried deep inside you, stretching your walls. 
He would guide you down his cock until his balls deep inside you. The expression of pure delight on his face is truly mesmerizing. Riding someone as tough and impressive is quite intimidating, so he would hold your hips, helping you to move up and down, as you slowly adjust to him. "Fuck, look at you, taking me all the way in like the good girl you're"
He feels your walls tightening him as you start to move faster.
"Take it easy" That's the moment you will hear his shaky breath and deep growls. He can't handle how good you feel. So wet, so hot, so tight as you walls spasms around him. His cock is throbbing inside you and he grit his teeth, holding your hips that firmly it will leave bruises on your skin tomorrow.
He's truly trying his best to not just hold your hips and slams inside you as his usual rough and merciless pace. He wants to transform you into a whiny mess. 
"Shit, y/n, let me fuck you." 
And once you finally get used to him, then prepare yourself for the wildest ride of your life. You better hold onto those sheets tightly. Because he will slap your ass, pull on your hair and fuck you with enough intensity to leave you breathless and exhausted.
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Zoro
Zoro has not a lot of experience because he's way too focused on his goal of becoming the greatest swordsman ever. Even when it comes to sex, he's a bit oblivious. So you better have to be precise and explain things correctly, so that it takes over his mind. As Kid, he's not a man of many words, he doesn't really know how to reassure you. Like, okay, it's been a while since the last time you had sex, but the same applies to him. At least you're in the same situation, isn't that nice?
He's trying his best.
Once he's sure you want to keep going, he will consider the whole thing like a training: everyone needs a good warm-up. So prepare yourself to have your pussy eat for a long, long time and to cum at least once against his lips. He may not be the most experienced, but he learns quickly and your body language is like talking to him. 
He would then slowly push two fingers inside you, feeling how wet you are for him. "Looks like my girl is ready for me, yeah?" 
Try not to be too embarrassed when he hungrily licks his fingers covered in your wetness, like if it were a precious cup of sake. The way your body looks and tastes is truly intoxicating. How could he get enough of your shivering, moaning, sweating, begging, and slow pleads when his head is buried between your thighs? 
"Now open your legs for me" 
Eyes darkening with lust as he sees your folds exposed, his cock twitching and throbbing. Although he is thick, he never realized it. So you better prepare yourself. 
He would look into your eyes just to be sure you're still willing, before placing his hands on your shoulders to pinning you down the mattress, shifting his weight so he can position himself at your entrance. 
Thrust forward, filling you up in one swift motion. He's completely focused, as if it's an important battle. And actually, he's really struggling to stay nice and slow for you. He's quiet. Breathe deeply and make low grunts close to your ear.  When you begin to scratch his back, he becomes confused. Why are you doing this? Does it hurt or feel good? "You doing okay?" 
If you tell him you need more now, he will give it to you as hard as you want.
"Such a brave girl"
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Law
As a good doctor, his first reaction is to understand the cause of the problem. Is it a physical or psychological problem? Sex can be painful if you're experiencing too much stress or vaginismus. If he wants to help you feel better, he needs to understand what's going on. He’s a logical man, he can't act without a good understanding of what's happening. 
He would probably cover your body too, in order to preserve your intimacy while you explain him you're just a bit stressed because it's been a long time and you often face pain when it comes to sex. 
"Sex isn't supposed to hurt or to be stressful. Do you want to continue?" 
As you slowly nodded, he would kiss your forehead and then slowly remove the bedsheets, revealing your bare body to himself. 
He wants to reassure you even if he struggles with intimacy, including in the bedroom. He's not that kind of guy having sex with random people. If you end up in the same bed, it's because he genuinely cares about you. And damn, he definitely knows how to take care of your body too. He has divine hands. Good to heal, but also to help you reach new heights. The way he runs his hands along your body, your inner thighs, your pussy, and then your clit causes shivers down your spine. 
And when he slides two fingers inside your core, damn, the only thing you can do is arches your back and beg for more. He’s the king of fingering. You can't help but cum as his thumb circles your clit while he pushes his long fingers in and out of you. When he removes them, his tattoos are soaked with your wetness, you are flustered, and he's content with himself. He can't help but grins, licking his fingers while watching your reaction closely. Even in bed, Law likes to tease you.
"Need me so bad, y/n-a?" with a slight pinch on your nipple 
He's a doctor, so he will wear a condom. Even if you're wet, he'll reach for the bottle of lubricant and then sloshing some onto his palm before smearing it over his length. The emo boy myth is true because his cock is long.
Usually, Law struggles with eye contact, it's too intimate for his sake. But for once, he will let you lie on your back, spreading your thighs enough to fit in between. His tattooed chest slowly rises up with each breath, making him look beautiful over you. 
"You're ready?" 
He's a smart and careful person, so he'll go slowly and check your expression to ensure you're alright. He feels the tightness around his cock. So wet, so hot. His hands are shaking on your hips while he gently steady you. "Everything's fine?"
Slow and deep strokes as you trace the tattoos on his arms and chest. With his lips sealed to yours, he swallows all of your moans. And his low, deep breaths are leaving you in shambles.
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Sanji
Oh, sweet Sanji. Similar to Zoro, he's not the most experienced, but he has a kind and compassionate soul. He would let you explain yourself, running his hands all over your shoulders, hair and stomach, trying to soothe you as you confess you're scared because it's been a while since the last time you had sex.
Sanji would never judge you. He would offer you sweet kisses to cover your body, promising to take things at your own pace. And if you need to stop, please just tell him. He would try his best to hide that he's a bit nervous too; nervous about hurting you or not being good enough for you. 
Gentle kisses on your neck, breasts, lower stomach, inner thighs, and hands running all over your skin, fondling your breasts softly with a heavenly touch. He wants to take good care of every inch of your skin because your body is so precious, perfect and beautiful. All your shivering, moaning, and the way you look at him with pure love on your face... it melts his heart. He desperately wants to be inside you, but he'll never rush the whole thing. Like a good meal, sex deserves to be appreciated. 
Probably the king of oral sex, he could keep his head burring between your thighs for the entire day and still can't get enough of how good you pussy feel and taste. He is fond of eating you out, hearing you moan, feeling you shivering and beg for more. The way your body is arching, how you grab his hair, pressing his lips more firmly against your wet folds. Not only do his hands know how to cook, but they also know how to please your body. Slowly circling your clit, fondling your breasts, and caring for every inch of your skin, making you melt and beg for more. You forgot you were tensed and stressed with all his attention. 
Sanji being Sanji, he would love to bind your wrists with his tie, but he knows it's not the time for this. "I need to be inside you, mon amour" (my love)  His cock is painfully hard and twitching, leaking in pre-cum.
As you spread your legs, letting him know that you're ready for more, Sanji would try his best to hide how stressed he really is. He doesn't want to hurt you. Fingers entwined with yours, a lot of eye contact as he slowly pushes his cock inside you. "Shh, it's okay. You're so tight. Laisse-moi te faire l'amour" (let me make love to you)
You softly moan as he penetrates you completely. You were stressed about getting hurt after such a long time without having sex, but Sanji is so soft that it didn't hurt even a bit. Even if you're relaxed, he would ask, "Am I hurting you?" And when you confirm that everything is more than fine, he can't help but sigh in relief. His fingers are still entwined with yours as you use your other hand to softly pull on his hair.
Slow and deep strokes. "C'est si bon d'être en toi" (it feels so good to be inside you) He is not ashamed of moaning. Moans that are really pretty. The feeling of your skin against his, how wet and welcoming you are inside. This is too much for him to handle. 
Naturally, when it came to aftercare, he would rush to the kitchen to make you a good meal. 
Sanji is so sweet please, help.
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peppermintquartz · 2 months ago
Note
stuck in an elevator
Someone with a sick sense of humor must be writing my life, because a benevolent God sure as hell would never plan this, Tommy thinks in his bitchiest mental tone. Then he snorts. As if anyone would be interested enough to write a single paragraph about him.
The other occupant of the elevator pointedly does not look at him. Evan Buck keeps his tone so neutral, it's almost robotic. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing. I mean, of all the places in Los Angeles to visit on a day off, we end up at LACMA together. And now we're stuck in the same elevator. What are the odds?" The ludicrously serendipitous nature of this encounter is keeping Tommy from other, less-pleasant thoughts, namely being trapped in a space without a view of the outside world. His pulse is starting to race.
They tried calling 911, but the signal in the elevator was poor. Thankfully the emergency intercom did connect to the museum's operations office, who has contacted emergency services.
"I should've taken the stairs," Tommy grumbles. His skin itches with the need to feel fresh air.
"With that boot on your ankle? Then you're dumber than I thought you were." Evan Buck finally glances over, his blue eyes scanning him from head to toe. "How did you injure yourself anyway?"
"Tripped when I was getting out of the bird," Tommy replies honestly.
Evan Buck scoffs and shakes his head, but his expression softens. "You doing okay otherwise?"
There are so many ways Tommy can answer. He can pretend he is perfectly okay. Somewhat okay. He can claim that he misses Evan Buck, but he wants to be friends, just friends. He can be flippant. Make it funny, keep things superficial.
But this is Evan asking him.
"I miss you like a heartbeat" is what comes out instead. And it's true - Tommy feels like an automaton, moving through time, his routines carrying him along from dawn till dusk.
Entire days going by without a single text from Evan Buck feel empty and pointless. The bedsheets need to be laundered but Tommy doesn't want to lose the final traces of the last time they slept in the same bed. There are books Evan Buck brought over to read when Tommy wants to watch a movie.
And now they are stuck together, in an enclosed metal box, and Tommy is trying not to think about that while also trying not to think about how much he wants to kiss Evan. So he vacillates between a bone-deep phobia and a bone-deep yearning.
"I'm sorry. That was too heavy to lay on you like that." His fingers are clammy where his palms are on the mirrored wall. Licking his lips, he says, "But I don't want to lie to you. Not about anything. But I'm good otherwise, Evan."
"I'm not." Evan inhales deeply and blows out his breath. "I'm... I'm baking every time I think about texting you or calling you. The loft smells like a goddamn bakery. And still, still I can't forget the way you smell, the way you sound, the way you fucking taste. I want - I want so badly - to turn back time, figure out what I said wrong that made you run from me. Maybe I wanna be mad at you. I don't know. But I'm not good, Tommy. I'm not gonna be good for a long time."
"I'm sorry," Tommy begins, but Evan cuts him off.
"I don't want you to be sorry," he snaps, and to Tommy's shame, his eyes well up with tears. "I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I want... I want us, together. That's what I want. I don't wanna be good, I don't want you to be sorry, I want us to be happy together, that's all I fucking want!"
The silence that falls between them is thick as concrete.
His hands and feet are cold now, and he thinks he is a little dizzy. Gulping down a breath, Tommy says, "I shouldn't have run. It was... I was afraid. That... that you'd see me and everything I'm not."
This is when Evan sighs and turns to face him. "I should've chased after you. I was afraid too. I moved too fast, I know now. But you running away and ghosting me after was a dick move."
"I guess we both have a lot to work through." Tommy manages a tight smile. He is starting to feel lightheaded, and his breathing is picking up pace despite his best efforts to stay calm and distract himself with Evan's presence. His hands are clammy and he tries to wipe them dry on his jeans. "Evan?"
"Tommy?"
"How long before 911 arrives?" Tommy's mouth is dry. His vision sparks and he is valiantly trying to hold on to his composure, but he feels like he's boiling in his dark blue henley; he needs air, he needs the sky, he needs space to flee-
"Tommy!" Evan is right next to him, keeping him from collapsing and hurting himself. His touch grounds Tommy in the present moment, and his face this close blocks out the sight of the metal coffin they are stuck in. "They'll be here soon, okay? It's all good, they'll be here soon. Breathe for me, come on, inhale , two, three, four; hold, two. three, four..."
Evan talks him through the breathing exercises, holding him up and against himself, all the way even after the elevator lurches back to life and delivers them to the next floor safely.
After he's helped out of the elevator, Tommy wretches and vomits all over the floor, some of the sick getting on Evan's nice shoes.
"Sorry," says Tommy, eyes tearing from the force of the nausea, his big frame trembling.
"They're just shoes," says Evan, soothing a hand along his spine. To the attending paramedic, he says, "He has mild claustrophobia. Not usually a problem, but we were in there a while."
Tommy follows the paramedic - Jefferson - to a bench, accepting a quick look-over. To his surprise, Evan stays with him. Jefferson doesn't see anything wrong other than shock and leaves them with a blanket when another call comes in, about some old man and a broken hip.
Tommy finally recovers after about twenty minutes. He smiles wryly at Evan. "Sorry. You don't have to stick around, there's a lot to see in LACMA."
"Tough luck chasing me off," says Evan. There's a determined set to his jaw.
"Evan, I mean, Buck, surely you have other places to go."
"First of all, I hate hearing you call me Buck. Second of all, I'm not going anywhere. I know exactly what I want, and I'm pretty sure I know what you want."
"Yeah? What do I want?"
"To be my forever," says Evan. He looks Tommy in the eye. "And I know enough about myself and relationships, a-and love, to say that I want you to be my forever too. So. Hah. I'm sticking around. Sucks to be you."
Tommy huffs out an amused and exasperated breath. "Still a brat."
"Yeah? Well, you can either put up with me, or you can do something about it." But there's no hiding the curl of his lips.
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whisperofwonder · 1 month ago
Text
Fall Right Into Me
Pro Hero!Todoroki Shouto x Pro Hero!reader - 2.8k words
Todoroki loves you, he just hasn't realized it yet. After you're seriously injured, he starts seeing everything in a different light.
TW: Reader has a serious injury, blood mentions, hospital scenes, fem reader
For @dira333, who gave me the idea and inspiration for this piece, in addition to just being the most kind and lovely person.
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"And what is your relationship to the patient?"
The nurse's question makes Todoroki freeze, unsure how he should answer. It feels like mere moments ago that he'd been crouched beside you, holding your limp hand in his, assuring you that everything was going to be okay, even though he wasn't sure you could even hear him. He'll need to have your blood washed out of his suit. What is his relationship to you?
"She works with me at my agency," He clears his throat, "We're friends." The word doesn't feel quite right on his tongue, but it's the only one that comes.
The nurse nods. "Well, I'm afraid we're only allowing family members at the moment. Or a spouse." Her expression softens as she looks at Todoroki. "I'm sorry. You could come back tomorrow. She will be more stable."
He wants to argue, but he knows it's pointless. "Please," He says instead, "Can you at least tell me - will she be okay?"
"The worst is past," The nurse assures him, a gentle smile on her face that makes him want to recoil. "It seems she'll make a full recovery. It will just take time."
"Thank you." Todoroki bows his head slightly, "I'll be back," He promises. The nurse nods in response, but the promise wasn't to her.
Back at home, the silence in his apartment is deafening. He can't help replaying the events of the day over and over. The fight with the villain. The way your body had slammed to the ground. The helplessness he felt as he flew towards you, forgetting about the civilians and his sidekicks, a wall of ice and a jet of flames quickly incapacitating the villain. All that was left was you, and the unnamable feeling that was welling up, threatening to tear him apart.
It's still there, heavy in his chest. It hasn't let up since the moment he saw your battered face, smeared with blood and covered in cuts, scrapes, and streaks of grime. He'd wanted to wipe it clean, but he didn't have any clean cloth, nor did he want to cause you any more pain. Instead, he'd settled for holding your hand. As your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, he'd promised that help was coming. That it would be okay. That he would stay by your side for as long as you needed him.
It wasn't long until the rescue heroes had taken over, rushing you to the hospital and ushering him out of the way of the cleanup efforts. The villain was taken into custody, and at the insistence of one of his sidekicks, he'd finally moved from the spot he was rooted to, rushing to the hospital only to be told he couldn't see you because your relationship wasn't the right kind.
He looks to the empty corner of his couch. If this were a normal Saturday evening, you would probably have stopped over after your patrol with takeout. You would undoubtedly have some kind of silly story to share, one that would make your eyes sparkle and your laughter ring out. You might even stay until late into the night, talking about whatever popped into your mind or just sitting together in companionable silence, half-watching whatever happens to be playing on the TV.
In moments like those, he's never felt the need to define the relationship between you. It has always been enough just to be with you. You're always there with a coffee in the middle of a long patrol, or a meal when he's drowning in paperwork and has forgotten just how late it is. You work side by side every day at the agency. It's become so natural that the thought of you ever not being there simply hasn't occurred to him. Until today.
What is he supposed to do now? He does the only thing he can think of, picks up his phone, and dials.
"Todoroki?" Midoriya's voice sounds muddled with sleep, and it's only now that Todoroki realizes how late it actually is.
"Oh, I woke you. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."
"No!" Midoriya interjects, sounding more awake by the moment, "I heard about what happened today, but I didn't want to call in case..." He lets the sentence trail off. "How is she?" He asks more quietly.
"Okay, I think. The hospital said that the worst was past."
"Oh, that's great news," Midoriya lets out in a rush of relief. "Is she awake?"
"I don't know," Todoroki says in a low voice. "I wasn't able to see her. They were only letting family in. Or a spouse." He adds after a beat.
"Ah," Midoriya hums. "Do you think they'll let you see her tomorrow?"
"The nurse thought so." Todoroki hugs a knee to his chest. "I'm going back first thing in the morning." He needs to see with his own eyes that you're really alright.
"Midoriya," He continues haltingly when his friend doesn't speak up, "The nurse asked what my relationship was to her. I didn't know what to say. I've never thought about it before."
"You haven't?" Midoriya sounds surprised. "I'm sorry," He rushes on, "I guess I just thought..."
"Thought what?" Todoroki asks, puzzled.
"Well, everyone's kind of been waiting to see when you would finally make things official," Midoriya says sheepishly.
"Official?" Todoroki echoes as the full meaning of what Midoriya said dawns on him. "Oh. I guess I never, I mean-" He stops. Suddenly, so many things from the familiar fluttering in his middle whenever he's around you to the heavy feeling currently sitting in his chest are beginning to make a lot more sense. "Have I been a complete idiot?"
To his surprise, Midoriya laughs softly. "I wouldn't go that far," He says placatingly. "Sometimes, I think... These things aren't so easy to recognize."
"No," Todoroki whispers. He hates that it's taken something like this to make him realize the truth of his feelings for you. "Do you think she feels the same way?" He asks, not sure he wants to hear Midoriya's answer.
"Well, if you wanted my honest opinion, I'd say that's a pretty good possibility." Relief blooms in Todoroki's chest. "But there's only one way to know for sure."
"Right," Todoroki murmurs, mind already racing as he thinks about what he should say to you. How does one bring something like this up in conversation?
"Well," Midoriya interrupts his thoughts, "I'm sorry to be the one to add that to your plate tonight. You should probably get some rest," He suggests helpfully.
"Of course," Todoroki says quickly, "I'll let you get back to sleep. Thank you, Midoriya."
"Any time," His friend says emphatically before saying his final goodbyes and ending the call. Todoroki takes Midoriya's advice and prepares for bed, crawling under the blankets even though he doesn't know if sleep will ever come.
He must have fallen asleep at some point, because eventually he opens his eyes, and the morning sunlight is streaming in through the curtains. He's waking from a dream of you, lying in a slowly growing puddle of blood as Todorki is frozen, unable to move his body to get to you. Three words are trapped behind his lips, and even though he opens his mouth, they won't come out, even as the light fades from your eyes.
It was just a dream, he tells himself. A nightmare concocted by his overburdened mind. You'll recover. The nurse had said so.
At the hospital, a different nurse is at the desk, and thankfully, his relationship with you isn't even a question. "She's just had breakfast," The nurse explains cheerily as she leads the way to your room, "She's still got quite a ways to go in recovery. I'm sure a visitor will do her good." The door swings open, then, and everything else falls away.
You're lying there in the bed, looking so small with all of the machines hooked up to you and the stark white blanket pulled over your body. You turn your head when the door opens, and a weak smile tugs at the corner of your lips. Your mother is there as well, seated in a chair nearby, but Todoroki barely registers her presence.
"Shouto," You say, your voice low and uncharacteristically hoarse. "You came." You've always called him Shouto. He's never been sure whether you're referring to him as Shouto the hero, or Shouto the person. Suddenly, he finds he desperately needs to know.
"Hi," He breathes out, crossing the distance to you in long strides. "I'm so glad you're awake. I was worried," He admits.
"You really thought a lame villain like that could take me down that easily?" You ask with a weak chuckle.
"Really," Your mother says your name scoldingly. "I do wish you wouldn't say things like that." Todoroki doesn't miss the way her voice wavers before she turns to him. "Shouto - Todoroki-san," Your mother says then. "Thank you so much for coming." She looks at you with a soft expression. "Darling, would you mind very much if I went to get some breakfast, now that Todoroki-san is here to keep you company?"
"Go ahead, Mom," You assure her, "I'll be fine." The moment she's gone, you turn to him. "She's been hovering like crazy," You confide.
Secretly, Todoroki can't blame her in the slightest. "She cares about you," He says, eyes roving your face. Some of the deeper gashes are still bandaged, while the more shallow ones have already scabbed over and begun to heal. Yesterday's grime has been cleaned from your skin, and though you're paler than usual, you're clearly on the mend.
"How are you feeling?" He asks, wanting to reach for your hand but not quite daring to.
"Sore," You admit. "I've got some broken ribs, apparently. Breathing isn't the easiest." You shake your head, "But I'm doing okay. Really." As though you've read his mind, you settle your hand on top of the blanket, palm up, in an invitation even he can't miss. Tentatively, he wraps his fingers around yours. "I heard you made quick work of that villain after I went down," You continue, "And then you stayed with me until the rescue team could get there." You give his hand a squeeze. "Thank you," You say softly.
"Of course," He says quickly. "I would do it over and over again." With your hand safe in his, he feels a wave of courage wash over him. He opens his mouth and says your name.
"My, there was hardly any line at the cafeteria!" Your mother chips, choosing that moment to unceremoniously return to the room. Quickly, he drops your hand, taking a respectful step back. He watches as your lips part, but you don't say anything. "I just brought my food back here, I figured there was no point in sitting down at the tables when there's a perfectly comfortable chair right here." She settles back down, seemingly oblivious to the open-ended conversation hanging in the room.
The rest of his visit is slightly more stilted. He promises to bring news of your condition to everyone at the agency. He assures you that they're all anxiously awaiting an update. He'd stay longer, but he really does need to get to work. When he bids you goodbye, he dares to take your hand again, just for a few moments. He promises he'll be back. He carries the smile you give him all the way back to the agency with him, enjoying the way the warmth curls through his middle.
He visits you every day for the remainder of your hospital stay. It's amazing, how this new certainty in his mind affects everything. Every smile makes his heart clench in his chest. He watches you growing stronger, the machines dwindling one by one, with relief blossoming in his middle. Sometimes you'll share a look that's just between the two of you, and it gives him hope.
You have a near constant stream of visitors, and he never does get any more time alone with you. It isn't until your discharge date from the hospital is set a week later that he begins to think his chance may be coming. You'll have a few more weeks of recovery at home, and along with it will come long stretches of solitude - solitude he hopes he just might be able to share with you.
He takes the first opportunity he gets to visit you. You've had a day to settle in at home, and he stops for takeout on the way from the agency - your favorite. You're expecting him, and the door opens instantly after he knocks. At the sight of you, standing there safe and whole and free from that hospital bed, he feels a crazy impulse to drop the takeout bags on the floor and sweep you up in his arms. He ignores it, merely stepping inside at your invitation with a slight bow of his head.
Your home is cozy as always, the little touches of you splashed everywhere. He can see a nest of blankets constructed on the couch, and you bid him to join you there. He does, gingerly balancing the takeout container to avoid spilling a single drop.
"How are you doing?" He asks as soon as you're settled.
"Much better," You say, already digging into the food. "I'm just glad to be home. The hospital was always so busy. I'm looking forward to a little peace and quiet. Although, I'm sure I'll be pretty sick of the peace and quiet by the time I can finally get back to work." You roll your eyes.
"I could come visit you," He offers quickly, "If you're bored. Or need company." You smile softly.
"I'd like that," You say with a nod, taking another bite of noodles. "Thanks for the food, by the way," You add, "Hospital food is the absolute worst. If I have to see another bowl of jello, I might scream."
"Noted," He says with a small smile, "No jello." The two of you fall into familiarity so easily. You talk about small things while you eat. What everyone has been up to at the agency and how you'd practically had to shove your mother out the door this morning. It feels so normal, and Todoroki is practically bursting with it.
When you're both finished eating, he gathers up the empty containers, carrying them to the kitchen and depositing them in the trash can. When he returns, he takes a seat on the couch a little closer to you. Suddenly, despite everything, he's nervous.
"I - I'm really glad you're okay," He says, starting small. "I was scared," He admits. You nod, encouraging him to continue. "The moment you were injured, it was like I couldn't think straight. The idea that you might be gone-" He swallows, and you reach for his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
"But I'm not gone," You say softly.
"I know," He says, tightening his grip on your fingers. "And I'm glad for that. Because this all made me realize something that I should have realized a long time ago." He watches as your lips part, then draws his gaze back up to your eyes. "I really care about you." He reaches for your other hand now, cradling them both in his. "In fact, I - I love you. I think I have for a long time."
"Oh," You breathe out, and he stills, hanging in the balance of this moment. Slowly, your face breaks into a brilliant smile, and it's all the answer he needs. "I love you too," You say, and his hands come up to cradle your face. Mindful of the fading scrapes, he gently skims his thumb across your cheek.
"Good," He breathes out just before his lips meet yours, molding perfectly in a tender kiss, as though they've always been meant to fit together. Todoroki thinks, distantly, that maybe they have.
"Shouto," You say his name under your breath, against his lips, and he knows exactly what you mean.
When you're finally cleared to return to work, the change in your relationship status is no secret to anyone. Apparently, it's been a long time coming for more people than just Midoriya. For the most part, very little changes. You've always been such a big part of his life. The biggest difference is that, now, he can kiss you as often as he wants. He takes advantage of that every chance he gets, and you don't seem to mind at all.
189 notes · View notes
varpusvaras · 7 months ago
Text
Fox is being punished. 
That has to be it. He had been a bad Commander, a bad soldier, a bad brother. All he had ever done had been mistakes, one after the other, leading up to his miserable end. 
But even after that, even after his body had been broken, even after he had had to lay there, in pain and numb, slowly choking out because no matter how much he had wanted to, his lungs would not draw in another breath. The only mercy he had been granted there had been the fact that he had lost consciousness before the end had actually arrived, so he had not had to actually see it. 
Fox had known when the end had come, though. There had been a flash of something, a landscape of rivers and lights he had fallen through, all the way back towards the hard ground beneath him. 
Then, he had stood there, watching himself laying on that hard ground, unmoving and cold. 
Fox had watched as his men had gathered around him, how they tried to find a pulse, even though Fox himself could tell it had been too late just by looking at himself. He had looked like a doll that had been played too harshly with, and then left behind, once his owner had grown bored with him. 
Fox had watched as his men had gathered his body and covered it, despite the fact that he had still had his entire armor on. He had watched them carry it away. 
Fox had not followed them. 
He knows what happens to all the bodies already. 
He did…he did not want to see himself go through it. 
It is selfish of him, he knows. He should’ve followed them, should’ve watched himself burn, like all of his brothers before him, who had been fortunate enough to make it back. It shouldn’t have mattered. 
He is already dead, after all. 
Still, he had not followed them. Instead, he just continues to stand there, at the foot of the Temple, where he had taken his last breath. 
He had thought he would see his brothers again. 
He had thought that he would finally get to apologise to Thorn. He had thought that Thorn would throw his arm around his shoulders and call him stupid for thinking that he had something to apologise for. 
He had thought that he would get to run to Ponds’s arms again. He had thought he would get to be held, and his older brother, always forgiving, would tell him that he still loved him, no matter what. 
Fox stares at the ground, where his body had fallen. 
It seems that once again, he had thought he deserved more than he was ever meant to. 
— — — 
Fox is being punished. 
That has to be it. He is being punished for all his failures, by having him witness the same things happen over and over again, but this time, he is even more helpless than ever before. 
He watches as his brothers continue to die. He watches as bolts that he could’ve warned them about hit them over and over again, because his voice doesn’t carry anymore.
He watches as his brothers continue to lose themselves, pulling the triggers of their blasters over and over again, because his hands are as much nothing as the air around them is. 
He watches as the Galaxy continues to fall deeper and deeper into the darkness. 
He watches it all, and he knows it is his fault. 
— — — 
Fox thinks about visiting Alderaan, sometimes. 
He misses it. It’s weird. He misses a place that he has never been to. He misses a place that was never his home, and never would be. 
He misses- 
Fox pushes the thought away from his mind, frightened of the possibility of what will happen if he thinks about it, thinks about them too much. He is not tied to the laws of regular travelling of the Universe anymore, and he is afraid that if he thinks too much, the next thing he knows, he will be standing there, looking right at them. 
He can’t do that. 
— — — 
Fox watches Bly die. 
His screams don’t reach him before he is gone, and they don’t reach him after. 
— — — 
Fox watches Stone die. 
He screams, again, even though he knows it’s pointless. He screams at him, orders him to get up, orders him not to leave Thire alone to this place. 
Stone doesn’t hear him. He dies, bleeding out in front of Fox, his blood flowing through Fox’s hands, no matter how hard Fox tries to hold it all in. 
— — — 
Fox watches his brothers die. 
He still tries, for some reason. Tries to hold them, tries to keep them from falling apart, tries to tell them they aren’t alone as they fade. 
He tries, because he has to. Because he didn’t try hard enough when he still had the chance. 
— — — 
He thinks of Rex a lot, whenever he sits by one of his brothers during their last moments. 
He thinks of Rex and the ARC Trooper in Rex’s arms and with a hole in his chest, and he sees himself holding the weapon. 
Fox is being punished. 
— — — 
Fox watches his brothers die. 
He stays with them until the end. 
All of them leave Fox after. 
— — — 
Fox surrounds himself with his brothers. 
He sits there, among them, the living and the dead. He listens to their voices, he watches their faces, he searches their eyes for recognition as they look towards him. 
It never comes. They can only look towards Fox, but not at him. 
Fox doesn’t know if he even wants them to see him. 
He doesn’t want them to leave him. 
He closes his eyes and listens to his brothers’ voices.
— — — 
Fox watches Wolffe. 
He follows him around as he goes across the Galaxy, and closes his eyes whenever he pulls the trigger. 
Fox watches Cody. 
He follows him around as he goes across the Galaxy, and holds his hand whenever he pulls the trigger. 
Fox watches them destroy themselves, and all he can do is cry silent, invisible tears. 
— — — 
Fox watches his brothers die. 
As he sits there, in a pool of blood that cannot stain him any further, he knows that he is being punished. 
He can’t take it anymore. 
Fox is being punished, and there is no place left for him that won’t hurt him further. 
He still goes, wishing for the reprieve of a different kind of pain. 
— — — 
The sun is setting when Fox arrives to Alderaan. 
He stands there, at the gates to the Palace, and watches the sun disappear behind the mountains and paint the sky with the colors of the warmth he can not feel anymore. 
He only has enough courage to enter through the gates once the sky has begun to turn dark. 
He remembers the stories Bail and Breha had told him. He remembers the terraces Bail had told him about, the ones where he would sit with Breha whenever he was back home. He remembers the halls Bail had described to him, the ones where he and Breha would dance in when they had the time, when they had a moment just for themselves to enjoy. 
He remembers the corridors and hallways Breha had told him about, the ones she had grown up running through, her shoes forgotten in the haste of seeing the ships leave in the morning. 
With the stories playing in his mind, he wanders through the Palace, all the way to the living rooms of the Queen and her Consort. 
Fox can hear them, through the door. He recognises the low, gentle sway of Bail’s voice, and he knows the melody of Breha’s voice as she speaks. 
He stands there, outside their door, and listens to them speak words he cannot make out. 
Bail says something. Breha laughs. 
Fox smiles. His tears don’t burn his eyes anymore. 
He sits on the floor and leans against their door, and he listens. 
— — — 
When the morning comes, Fox hides. 
He’s not hiding because he fears they will see him. He knows painfully well by now that he is invisible to the Galaxy as it is now. 
No, he hides, so that he can’t see them. 
So it goes. Fox hides in the halls and rooms of the Palace, living as a shadow in the house that was never his home, and he listens to the voices of the people he had once hoped would be his home. 
He knows the sound of Bail’s footsteps already, and he quickly learns Breha’s as well. Sometimes, he catches a glimpse of them, and he averts his eyes, no matter how much he wants to do nothing else than just look at them. 
There’s pain waiting for him in their faces, and there is pain here, where he doesn’t see them. 
Fox is being punished, after all. 
When the night falls, he sits by their door and listens to them talk. 
Bail says something. Breha laughs. 
There is silence. 
Breha cries. 
It’s an awful sound. 
Fox thinks that it’s his fault.
— — — 
Breha is not back to the Palace yet. 
Fox still sits in front of their door, even though there is no conversation going on on the other side. 
It’s silent, for a long while, but then there is noise. 
Bail is crying. 
It’s an awful sound. 
Fox thinks it’s his fault, too. 
After all, had he not ruined everything that Bail had worked so long for?
— — — 
They have a child, now. 
It’s impossible for Fox to not know that. Everyone around him is talking about her. 
The little Princess of Alderaan. 
Fox knows that they always wanted children. They talked about it often. So often, that sometimes, when Fox had been foolish enough for a moment, he had imagined a little girl himself, a little girl with dark eyes and dark hair, with a toothy smile and bright laugh. 
A little girl, just for them. 
He’s happy for them. He really is. He knows how much they wanted to have a child. A little girl, just for them. 
Fox had always known that he had been nothing more than a pawn on the board of war. 
Somehow, there is still a new pain to be found, from the realisation that the Galaxy and the lives in it would continue to move forward even without him. 
They have a child, now. A little girl, just for them, like it had been before Fox, and how it is now without him. 
— — — 
The little Princess has not been sleeping properly, lately. 
Fox doesn’t know a lot about babies, but he has heard some say that it is quite normal for them to sometimes go through periods where they seem to be doing nothing more than cry, day and night. 
The little Princess has certainly been doing that for the past week. 
Her cries always start the same. First as a few hiccups, that will eventually grow to sobs, and then to loud, demanding and shrill screams, that will go and and on, before she grows tired, and her little voice becomes hoarse, until she has the energy to just whimper. 
Fox hates the sound. He hates every second of every part of it. 
There is a need inside of him. A need that tells him that he must stand up, that he must walk through the door, that he must take the child and soothe her until she stops crying, that he must do so until she is happy again. 
He wonders if this was what the Prime felt like when he had been given his son. 
The little Princess cries. Fox listens to it, his teeth drawing blood that will not flow from his lip as he bites down on it, in order to keep himself composed. Breha and Bail sound both exhausted, as far as Fox can hear through the door, but still, they carry on, trying their best to soothe their daughter, as she continues to cry. 
Eventually, a silence falls. 
It draws on, far longer than it has in many days. 
Fox listens to it for a while, until it becomes simply too much. For a week, he has been holding himself together, and now, during a moment of peace, he has run out of any patience he had still had left.
He stands, and moves into the rooms on the other side of the door. 
He moves slowly and quietly through the dark living room. It feels appropriate, still, even though he makes no sound anymore for anyone to hear. He glances at the marks of a long life together, a life that he was just a small, brief moment in, and makes his way to the bedroom. 
Fox does hesitate for a long moment before he actually steps in. It feels like he is intruding, no matter how many times there had been promises, promises of this place, promises for his place exactly here. After all, those promises had never been able to come through, all because of Fox himself. There is no place for him here, anymore. 
Bail and Breha are both asleep. Fox can see them lay on the bed, turned towards each other in their slumber. Breha is curled against Bail, and Bail is curled around her, his back to Fox, like he is protecting her. 
Fox finally looks at them properly, now that they have their eyes closed. 
He feels like a stranger, stumbling upon a picture of a perfect life. It has been a while since he has wished for anything else than the final mercy of true death be granted upon him, but now, there is a longing for a life inside of him, burning him cold. 
He stands there and he longs, longs for two things he cannot have at the same time. 
Fox is being punished. 
There is a small, dim light on at the nightstand on the other side of the bed, and next to it, is a small cot. 
Fox tiptoes around the bed, and he slowly, so slowly and carefully, makes his way to the cot and looks in. 
She is sleeping there, the little Princess of Alderaan. She has a round face and small body, and tiny arms and legs with even tinier hands and feet. 
There is a tuft of brown hair on top of her head. 
Fox has a feeling that if her eyes were open, he would see that they were also dark. 
A little girl, with dark eyes and brown hair. 
A little girl, just for them. 
There she is, just like Fox had imagined her. 
There she is, now that Fox is not. 
She makes little sounds when she sleeps. Tiny gasps and soft sniffles, and even tinier whines every now and then as she shifts around a bit, her eyelids fluttering for a second before she settles back down. 
Fox cannot look away. 
He stands there, looking at her, at her round cheeks and tiny nose, at the tiny shadows her little eyelashes are casting on her skin, at the way her hair is longer at her forehead and curls ever so slightly towards the left side of her head. 
She whines a little, then again, a little louder. Breha shifts a little on the bed behind Fox. 
She needs her rest. 
Fox knows it doesn’t matter, but he hums. 
There hadn’t been any songs for them when Fox had been little. No lullabies or nursery rhymes. The only songs that had been sung to them had been the endless melodies of the ocean and its waves, and the songs of war, of bravery and brotherhood. 
None of them are suitable to be sung to a little Princess in the dead of the night, to lull her back to sleep. 
It’s a good thing, then, that she cannot hear him. 
Still, despite all of this, Fox hums the song to her, the song of his brothers and their hearts. He hums the song over and over again, with his voice that cannot tire anymore, as it is as soundless as it was eternal. 
The whines stop. She squirms around a bit, before she settles again, and stays there for the rest of the night. 
Fox flees when the morning comes and he hears Bail awaken. 
— — — 
Now that Fox has given a part of himself, he cannot take it back anymore. 
He goes in the next night, stands there next to the cot and looks at the little Princess, and he hums the song for her. She sleeps through night after night. 
Fox knows he is only deluding himself in thinking he is actually helping in any way. 
He still leaves every morning. 
— — — 
Babies grow fast. 
Fox notices it all by himself without anyone having to tell him. She seems to get bigger after every week. 
Leia. The little Princess. A little girl, just for them. 
She is five months now, Fox had heard Breha mention it the day before. 
Fox realises that she must’ve been born right after the Rise of the Empire. 
It feels like it has been a lot longer than that. 
— — — 
Fox hums. Leia had fallen asleep an hour ago, so it was still early into the night. Bail and Breha were also in the bed already, trying to catch as much sleep as they could. 
Fox had really thought they were asleep. 
Until he hears a quiet, choked sob. 
Bail pushes himself up instantly at the sound. Even though Fox could disappear instantly from where he stood, his mind had stopped working for a moment right then, and it’s already too late when the thought to do so finally crosses him.
“Breha?” Bail murmurs. 
Breha doesn’t answer instantly. Fox hears her draw in a deep breath that comes out accompanied by another sob. 
“I-” She says, and tries to breathe in deep again, but her voice just wavers more when she speaks after it. “I miss him. I miss him so much. He was supposed to be here.”
“I know”, Bail says. “I know. I miss him too.” 
Breha buries her face into Bail’s chest and cries.
“He was supposed to be here”, she sobs, digging a hot, burning blade of pain deeper into Fox’s chest with every noise. “He was supposed to be here, with us.” 
It takes Fox a moment to realise that they are talking about him.
He looks Bail in the eyes properly for the first time since before his death. 
They are full of tears, already making their way down his face, steadily and quietly as he holds Breha through her cries, steadfast and strong as always. 
Fox remembers how much he loves them again. 
He wants so badly to reach for them in that moment, he wants so badly for them to see him, to hear him, like he is still there. 
But he is not there.
He continues humming, through his own, quiet and weightless tears, and Leia sleeps through the night. 
— — — 
Fox stays when the morning comes. 
He cannot look away from them anymore, either. So he watches as they dress themselves and then dress Leia, and he follows them when they walk out of the Palace and through the gardens, down the hill and to a smaller garden, away from the main one at the central courtyard. 
Fox didn’t remember either of them ever mentioning it to him. They had both talked so much about all the plants and flowers of the Palace in detail when Fox had asked, in wonder of having living things in such abundance all around, even indoors. 
The little garden looks new, as Fox takes a better look at it. The stones around the flowerbeds have no weather to them yet, and the ground on which the flowers themselves stand is dark and loose and looks like it has just been placed there. 
There are young trees at the center of the garden, their blooming branches arching over white stones in the middle. 
It takes a Fox a moment to realise that it’s a grave. 
There are some petals that have fallen on the stone in the middle. Bail sweeps them away, before resting his hand on top of the stone. 
“Good morning, our love”, he says, and with air that he doesn’t need to breathe stuck inside his throat, Fox reads the writing on the stone. 
Where he lives now is in our hearts
Eternal, everlasting
Like love
Fox Organa
Remembered and lived by his wife, husband and daughter
Oh. 
Fox had thought- he had thought- 
Breha takes Leia’s little hand to hers, and she presses both it and her own hand on top of the stone as well. 
“Good morning, love”, she says. “Say good morning, Buir.”
Leia is five months old. Fox knows that she is too young to know how to speak yet. 
Still, she babbles happily, her little fingers curling against the stone, and Fox-
Fox stands beside his own grave and cries. 
— — — 
He looks at Leia that night as she sleeps. He looks at her round cheeks and tiny nose, her dark hair and tiny hands and feet, the way her chin is shaped and the way her mouth curves. 
He looks at her, and hums a song for her, to their little Princess. To their little girl, a little girl who is just for them. 
Fox sits on the edge of the bed once Bail and Breha are both asleep, and he feels like he somehow belongs, even though he is not there. 
— — — 
Leia is six months old. 
She is still rather small, as far as Fox has understood, but Bail and Breha are not worried by that. Fox trusts that they have a good reason. 
He is sitting on his spot on the edge of the bed, humming the song, as Leia suddenly scrunches her face, looking very much like she is about to cry. 
Fox stands up in a hurry and leans over the cot. 
“Shhh”, he hushes. “Shhh, it’s alright, it’s alright.” 
He only realises that he is trying for nothing, like all the times before, after he has already said the words. 
Indeed, Leia does open her eyes, her face still scrunched up and her mouth drawn tightly, and she blinks rapidly, and- 
She looks up, her dark eyes locking in on Fox’s. 
Fox freezes. 
No. No, she is not looking at him, he reminds himself. She cannot see him, since he is not actually there-
Leia’s face relaxes as she continues staring at him. Her mouth goes lax for a moment, and then it curls into a toothy smile, and she reaches her hands towards him. 
Fox cannot help it. Readying himself for inevitable disappointment, he reaches his hand into the cot. 
Leia’s hands reach for his. First they don’t seem to be able to grasp on anything, but then, all of a sudden, they curl around Fox’s thumb. It feels like there is static between them, as a layer on Fox’s skin, but he can still feel the pressure and a hint of warmth through it. 
Leia looks at him, and smiles. 
Fox smiles back, wavering and on the edge of tears yet again, but he smiles back at her. 
“That’s right”, he says. “It’s alright. Buir is here.” 
Leia falls back asleep that night holding onto Fox’s hand. 
— — — 
There are limits to what Fox can do. 
He cannot lift Leia up properly. He can put his hands under her and lift her maybe half an inch for a second or maybe two, at max. The static feeling is always there whenever she touches him, but Fox can let her hold onto him, and he can lightly brush her head to soothe her. Leia giggles every time Fox runs his finger down the bridge of her nose. 
Fox has no other option than to exist with the fact that there is one person in the whole Galaxy who can see him. 
He cannot touch her as much when she is being held by someone else. He cannot pry her away from Breha or Bail, not that Fox even wants to. 
Breha is holding her on her shoulder as she mixes her a bottle. Leia is a little fussy, hunger making her impatient. 
Fox calls to her, and when Leia looks up at him, he sticks his tongue out at her. 
The fussiness and the hunger are completely forgotten. Leia laughs and clumsily claps her hands together. She shrieks out a louder laugh as Fox does it again. 
Breha turns, and looks around the room. There is still a bang of loss in Fox’s chest as her eyes pass right by him. 
“Something caught your eye?” Breha asks. She is smiling as she looks at Leia, and Fox loves her immensely. 
— — —
Bail stands next to Fox at Leia’s cot. 
Fox had always leaned against him whenever they had stood this close to each other. It had been a habit, born from the fact that Fox had always run cold while Bail had always run warm. 
Fox misses that warmth. 
Bail looks at Leia, who stares right back at him. 
“The last time I checked”, Bail says slowly. “It was way past the bedtime for little Princesses.” 
Leia only grins at Bail, who looks extremely dejected. Fox cannot help but laugh a little. 
Leia’s eyes move to Fox, and she laughs back at him. 
Bail frowns, and turns to look. For a moment, it feels like he is looking straight at Fox, but his eyes never stop searching. 
Fox wants to just lean forward and fall against him. 
He stays put, until Bail’s eyes turn away. 
— — — 
Leia stands up against the couch. 
Carefully, she lets go of it. She looks at Breha, who is sitting just a few meters away from them, and then she looks at Fox, who is sitting on the couch. 
Fox smiles at her. 
“Go on”, he says. “Go on, Leili’ika, you can do it.” 
“Come on”, Breha says, extending her arms towards Leia. “Come on, you can do it!” 
Leia takes one, hesitant step away from the couch. Then another, and another, until she has made it to Breha, who catches her in a hug. 
“There you go!” Breha laughs, and kisses Leia’s cheeks. “There you go, I knew you could do it!” 
Leia giggles, and then looks over at Fox. 
Fox claps his hands. 
“Good job!” He says. Breha puts Leia back down, and Leia turns around, and makes her way towards him with small, wavering steps. She grabs at the couch right in front of Fox, and looks up at him, with a wide, toothy smile. 
Fox glances at Breha.
Breha is looking at Leia, but slowly, her eyes move up, following Leia’s gaze. 
She doesn’t see him, but she keeps looking, almost like she is expecting to see something there. 
She is not smiling anymore. Fox swallows, and turns to look back at Leia. 
Leia is still smiling, and Fox quickly smiles back at her. 
“Good job”, he says again, and runs his thumb over her cheek. “Good job, Leia.” 
Leia giggles again. Breha is still looking when Fox looks back at her. 
— — — 
“Sometimes, it just…” Breha trails off. “....it just seems like she’s really seeing something we’re not.” 
“I know”, Bail says. “But…she always looks happy, correct?” 
Breha nods. 
“Yes”, she answers, and then pauses. “...do you think it’s because of…” 
Bail takes her hand into his. 
“Maybe”, he says, almost whispering. “Maybe. Though I…I cannot imagine what she is seeing. I’ve never heard of anything like this. Obi-Wan or Master Yoda could know, perhaps, but…” 
He cuts himself off, and shakes his head. 
“It’s too dangerous”, he says. 
Fox stares at his hands as he listens to them speak, his mind trying to catch up with what had just been said. 
They aren't all gone. The Jedi are not all gone. 
Obi-Wan Kenobi is alive.
— — — 
Fox goes to see Kenobi that night, after Leia has fallen asleep. 
It’s the middle of the day there, with two suns blaring down on the desert. Fox finds Kenobi easily enough. 
He looks like he has aged several years in just a span of one.
Fox cannot blame him. 
He watches Kenobi for a while, looking for any sign that he can see Fox. 
When none come, Fox steps closer. 
“General?” He calls. “General Kenobi?” 
Nothing. 
Fox tries not to feel disappointed. 
There’s a strange feeling then, like he is being watched. Fox turns around. 
No one around him is looking at him. 
— — — 
Fox goes to visit Cody after. 
He watches as Cody cleans his blaster, just like he always does. He looks like he usually does as well, with his helmet off, and his brows creased in a gentle, concentrated frown. 
Fox wonders what Cody would do, if Fox could tell him that Kenobi is alive. 
Perhaps it’s for the best that he can’t.
Fox returns to Alderaan, and sits on the edge of the bed. Leia makes a sound, and he hums her song to her to settle her back to sleep.
— — — 
Kids are fast. 
Much faster than they have any right to be. Leia especially, because she is still tiny.
“Leia!” Bail calls after her, as she speeds off. “Leia, slow down!” 
Fox can move a lot faster than anyone else. In less than a blink of an eye, he is in front of her, and she hastily slows herself down to a stop. 
“You heard your papa”, Fox says. “Slow down.” 
Leia has the gall to pout at him. 
Bail has now caught up to her as well, and he scoops her up. 
“What are you pouting at?” He asks her, tickling her stomach lightly. 
Leia laughs.
“Buir!” She giggles, which makes Bail stop immediately. 
He looks at Leia, looking a bit confused for a moment, and then glances towards the small garden. 
“Do you want to go see Buir?” He asks her. 
Leia turns to look back at Fox. 
“Buir”, she says. 
Bail doesn’t notice her looking, because he just nods, and starts to make his way towards the garden. Fox decides it’s for the best if he follows them. 
Bail puts her back down on the ground in front of the grave. 
“There we go”, he murmurs. “Say hello to Buir.” 
Leia frowns at the stone, and then looks at Fox. 
“Buir”, she says. She sounds rather confused now. 
Bail looks at her, and then up, straight at Fox but straight past him.
Fox makes himself smile at Leia. 
“It’s okay”, he says. He brushes his hand across the top of her head. “It’s okay, Leili’ika. Buir is right here.” 
Leia looks at him, and then reaches her hand.
“Buir”, she says. 
Fox lets her grab onto his hand. He watches as Bail looks at him, still straight past him, with a lost look full of grief in his eyes. 
Once again, Fox wishes nothing more than to be able to speak to him, make him see, make him hear him, so Fox could tell him that he is right there. 
But he cannot. 
Because even when Fox has found his place, even when Fox has found happiness, even when Fox has found a home, even when he has been granted a reason to be here. 
Even then, Fox is being punished.
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katz-rambles · 6 months ago
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Hellooo again lovely writer ! This is a new day, so it means I have a new idea for you ;)
How about reader and one of the ghoul (your choice) being forced to shared a bed ? And now, what if reader had a spicy dream during the night and woke the ghoul sleeping next to her with her moans ? How would they react? 👀
The one-bed-trope, some forced proximity and a sprinkle of unresolved sexual tension, how could it go wrong !
Yess! I love the one bed trope smm. This may not be very good as I'm exhausted, haha. I chose Sodo/Dewdrop because this just seemed fitting for him.
1.1k words
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(nsfw, wet dream, fingering, PiV, squirting, cumming inside, aftercare,)
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰
Sharing a room with someone, that's not too bad. You're not a stranger to sharing rooms with people, just not a room with one bed, especially not with someone you can't stop thinking about. You've read this in romance books but when it happens in real life you want to scream. This is not going as planned.
“There's only one bed,” You groan and place your bag on the floor, looking around for a couch or something that you could sleep on.
“Aww, you don't want to be close to me?” Sodo teases you, a smirk on his lips. You already know this is going to be a long night. You're tempted to pick your bag up and throw it right in his smug face.
“No,” You sigh and glare at him. You're already done with his shit and it's not even midnight yet. You stare at the bed and, for a second, you hope you can somehow mitosis the bed into creating another one. Yet it never does. Maybe you can trade rooms with someone, but everyone else is probably already asleep or trying to get to sleep so it would be pointless to try.
“Well, sweetheart, if you're not going to then I'm going to shower. No peeking,” Sodo snickers and goes into the bathroom. Maybe you will throw your bag at him. The water turning on pulls you from your thoughts, now you have to wait until he's done to get into more comfortable clothes, great.
The bed is a lot softer than you thought it would have been, for a shitty motel that is. You're laying on the bed on your stomach scrolling mindlessly on your phone when you feel the bed dip beside you. When you look over at Sodo you immediately regret it, not because he's ugly or anything, but because you're afraid you won't be able to look away, he's wearing some lose pajama bottoms and a thin shirt that basically leaves nothing to the imagination, his blonde hair is down and still damp from his shower that perfectly complements his charcoal skin. For a second you don't want to look away, trying to forever have this image in your head.
“Take a picture, sweetheart, it'll last longer,” He smirks when you realize you've been caught, he's enjoying watching you stumble over your words to find a response. “Shut up,” You snap at him, but your voice isn't harsh enough for you to actually be mad. You turn off your phone and pull the covers over yourself, the heat radiating from Sodo is enough to cook you alive so you ditch the idea and take them off almost as quick as you put them on. Thankfully, sleep comes quickly to you tonight.
“So good for me.. fuck.. so tight too,” Sodo growls into your ear and his thrusts don't stop or slow down. His face is buried in your neck and he groans when he feels you clench around him. You reach up to tug on his hair and he moans into your neck when you do. His hand goes down to rub your clit and he almost whines.
“Fuck! Sodo, please don't stop!” You cry and your back arches slightly, your hips move to try and match his unrelenting pace. You can feel the coil in your core getting tighter and tighter, and just as it's about to snap you get woken up to the feeling of being shook.
You're panting and you rub your eyes when you're fully conscious. “What?” You groan and look over at Sodo, internally hoping you didn't make any noise or you'll be done for. Your next words get caught in your throat when you fully take in his current appearance, he definitely heard you, his pupils are blown wide and he's biting his bottom lip, there's a bit of sweat on his forehead that causes some of his hair to stick to it, even through the darkness of the room you can make out the bulge in his pants.
“Sorry to wake you, but I can't help myself,” He groans and moves his face closer to yours, in a second you reach up and pull him down to kiss him. If you weren't already turned on, you are now. He grinds his erection onto your thigh and he pants into the kiss. When he breaks it you both know what to do, you grab your shirt and pull it off as he does the same, and he helps you get off your shorts and panties and he kisses you once again.
“Already.. so… wet,” He gasps between kisses and presses a finger into your folds and teases your clit. You whimper and he smirks and eagerly kisses your neck. You run your fingers through his hair and tug gently, this elicits a noise from Sodo that could make you cum on the spot. He presses a finger inside you and starts to pump them in and out, curling them up to press your sweet spot and you moan, a little too loud but neither of you care right now. He brings his head back up to your lips and kisses you again, he pulls his pants and boxers down and thrusts into you.
“Oh fuck. Does it feel as good as it did in your little dream?” He chuckles when you whine and turn your head away. “Shut up and fuck me.” You groan and he complies, his thrusts are deep and quick, yet he manages to find your sweet spot once again.
With every thrust his pelvis grinds against your clit causing you to moan.
“So fuckin’ tight..” He growls and grabs your thighs to lift them up around his waist, getting deeper than before. You can feel your orgasm approaching and from the moan he lets out so can he. Your walls tighten around him and he whines at the feeling. You can feel a gush of wetness from the noises he's making, you both already know that the rest of the band is going to kill you both from the noises you two are making but you both couldn't care less. You reach down to rub your clit and you feel the coil in your core get tighter.
“Fuck! Sodo.. please ‘m close,” You whimper through your pants and he speeds his thrusts up a bit, determined to make you cum. You wrap your legs around him and pull him closer to you and you feel a gush of wetness when you cum and he moans when you do. His thrusts don't slow as he gets closer and he cums deep inside you.
You're both panting and sweaty when he falls on top of you. “That was better than the dream,” You both laugh and he rolls off you. “Let's get cleaned up,” He picks you up and brings you to the bathroom.
Let's just say that the rest of the band will make sure you and Sodo never share a room again.
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melobin · 1 year ago
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how riize act when they are needy??
shotaro usually presses himself against you, isn’t afraid to hide that he’s needy. he doesn’t see why he should hide it, he knows you’re always more than happy to let him lay you down and fuck you. even if he’s needier in the sense of wanting you to take care of him he’ll never hide it, knows you’re happy to have him no matter how he wants it so he’s honest about showing you his neediness.
eunseok tries to make you go to him. he isn’t embarrassed or ashamed about being needy, he just enjoys watching you whine and paw at his shirt because you need him so bad. just wants to rile you up until you’re asking, begging, him to fuck you. “ ‘s so cute how needy you always are” knowing damn well he made you needy on purpose.
sungchan doesn’t care and will make sure you know he’s needy. he has no reason to feel shame for wanting to fuck you, he thinks you’re the prettiest thing and would never hide that from you, he’d never hide his need to fuck you silly either. lips on your neck, fingers digging into your waist, he’ll make sure you know how bad he needs you.
wonbin can’t control himself, gets whiny and touchier than usual. the thought of hiding his neediness from you never really crosses his mind, he knows he wouldn’t be able to hide it anyway. wonbin gets hard easily, you could simply look at him in a certain way and he’d end up hard over it, so he knows hiding it is pointless. usually ends up with his arms wrapped around you, chest against your back, bulge against your ass as he whines in your ear about needing to feel you wrapped around him.
seunghan is shameless and will straight up tell you he wants to fuck you. knows you could never turn him away, especially with how good he does fuck you. so when his fingers trail along your inner thigh, inching toward the lace of your panties you already know what he wants and you’re ready to open your legs a little wider so he can slot himself between them and take you however he wants.
sohee is a wild card, he’s either great at hiding it or does nothing to hide it. it’s not uncommon for sohee to get needy whilst you’re out and when he does he tries his hardest to hide it, embarrassed that someone other than you will realise. realistically, he’s good at hiding it from anyone that isn’t you. but when he wants you to know he’s needy he’s not ashamed of pressing himself against you and littering little kisses along the side of your neck.
anton thinks he can hide it but he can’t, his ears turn red and he gets flustered at any sort of contact with you. anton can be quite shy around you in general and that gets worse when he’s needy, any skin to skin contact with you has his heart rate increasing and his skin flushing, physically can’t hide his neediness from you and you just think it’s the cutest thing. always giving him what he wants because he deserves it.
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skelliko · 8 months ago
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kazutora hanemiya |°- is it platonic or romantic?
|°- Baji and chifuyu tried to convince kazu that he's actually in love (good timeline)
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normally kazutora wouldn't be the one to get so confused over his feelings about another, normally he'd be seeking the opportunity to be able to feel 'love' and the comfort that's supposed to come with it. but right now this feeling that he's getting is the most prominent and confusing feeling he's ever gotten.
this feeling has grown to be more than uncomfortable, it's tightening around his throat so much that he needs to wrap his hand around the base of his neck, feeling his pulse thumping through the thin layer of skin that's in-between the gap of his collar bones. his stomach feels like an empty cave that holds a singular spider making pointless webs that won't be able to catch anything, and his chest seems to always feel some sort of anguishing heat that could also be mistaken for coldness.
he's not in love. is he? if this is the feeling that people get when they start to like someone then he wishes to erase every form of a sappy, love bullshit. this doesn't feel romantic at all, its agonising.
your perfume fills his nostrils but you're no where near by, it's just him alone almost unable to sit through this aching tightness. it's gotten so bad that he feels like he needs to throw up in order to banish this painful feeling. but he's not going to purge, that'd be an obscure decision to make for himself. but him sitting up on his bed with trembling hands makes it seem that maybe its not a bad attempt.
you're his friend, nothing more. sure he feels like he can listen to you forever while finding your rambling cute. and sure he always feels the need to playfully hold your hand which then causes some laughter about the odd movements you both do. and when you both take unexpected pictures here and there of each other; hes always looking back at the photos he's taken of you longer than a minute whilst smiling at them, seeing your captured smile makes him smile. but there's nothing wrong with thinking or feeling that way about a friend, right? yeah, there's nothing wrong with that.
but the thought of you being with someone else puts his stomach through a repetitive feeling of falling, it's as if kazutora is in a constant state of being pushed off a high ledge. you being with someone else spikes his anxiety high and the need of being with you is always there to distract you from any other potential takers that could snatch you up, take, and keep you away from kazu.
---
it wasn't until after a week of this bullshitting that kazutora ended up talking about this odd feeling about you to Baji and chifuyu. chifuyu certainly had the most fun with this little discussion out of the three of them whereas Baji took it a tad bit more seriously knowing that kazutora's feelings shouldn't be taken as a joke.
kazu yapping his heart out about you, mentioning how he feels this and that with you, how it pains him when you're pained and he'd do anything to keep you safe and secure. but also how he feels empty on the inside when thinking about you, how he wishes that time could just stop when your both having a wholesome, heart melting moment because he's afraid that someone will rip kazutora's hand away from your grasp and replace him making neither of your eyes to ever meet again.
"seems like you love her" chifuyu spoke up, he held a little smile and rested his jaw on his palm almost as if he was fascinated when listening to kazu talk about his 'best friend'
"I don't though! I'm just attached to her- or something like that" immediately protesting against the comment whilst waving his hand around at 'whatevet' but opened his mouth again after a second "I think..."
"you think?" chifuyu pestered in hopes of getting kazutora to think more clearly. it's clear that he's yet to understand what he feels right now.
even though Baji became lost in the middle of kazutora's rant cause he kept on going back and forth from feeling happy about you to then feeling almost anguished; the question that was asked next certainly hit kazutora where it pained him the most.
"oi, if you can't tell if it's platonic or more, picture her at her wedding that isn't yours. are you happy for her or do you wish to be the one marrying her?" (idea isnt mine, i got this from a video)
chifuyu looked over at Baji but then immediately moved his eyes over at kazutora to see his reaction "ohhh good one!"
"that's stupid. marriage is a big thing y'know" kazu rolled his eyes over to the side but deep down he was thinking
you at a wedding? he couldn't help but grow angry at the thought of you being off the market for romance. he grew nauseous and sick at just the thought of you being latched onto another person that's not him but he wasn't gonna show that. he doesn't want you to be with someone else but that doesn't mean he wants to date you either, he just wants you all to himself... which thinking back at that now makes it sound really selfish of him. is he even actually capable of romance?
he began to fiddle with the folds of his trousers by his knee whilst sat down on the carpet floor in Baji's room. taking hold of a fold with his pointer finger and thumb and rubbing the fabric together creating some very subtle vibrations against his finger tips as it forcebly brushes against itself. kazutora stayed silent.
"soooo you gonna answer?" - chifuyu
kazu didn't even look up at him, he didn't look up at all since his eyes were just down at this fingers fiddling with his trousers. on the outside he may seem distracted but on the inside he was very much deep in thought, he kept going back and forth on how to verbalise this feeling to then wanting to just shut down, leave and not talk about you or to anyone at all.
but what if the time that he's here, you've already found someone new to talk to, you'll cast Kazutora away and hell never see you again... once that thought popped up he stopped fiddling and it was only then that he made a decision.
"i want her forever. i could love her if it'll mean she stays with me" though as he said this it didn't seem like he was all too happy about it, but he also didn't seem upset by it either. it was as if kazutora found a solution but that said solution seemed to be the only way even tho he hoped there to be more.
"you don't seem too happy about that" baji raising a singular brow
"cause I want to love her but I feel like I'll be unable to"- kazu
"but you just said that you'd love her..." chifuyu mentioned, then silence filled the room for a breif moment, kazutora opened his mouth to speak but before he could make a sound something clicked in Chifuyu's brain "wait don't tell me you're emotionally unavailable! that'd make so much sense but also make things more harder to understand"
"hah?" beyond confused as to what chifuyu is talking about here
"no ignore him tora" Chifuyu looked over at Baji a little offended at the disagreement "you just need a big push, it's clear you want her but i think your not allowing yourself to. your in denial"
"I'm not in 'denial' I know what I feel" kazu protesting even though that's far from the truth,
"and that is?" -baji
silence filled the room again. neither of them have any actual experience with the feeling of love in terms of romance but yet they managed to put kazutora in a corner. because although he's the one who's the closest in getting with or has talked to a girl that makes him flutter; he's the only one who can't understand the feeling of 'love'. it's as if his feelings are behind a blurred window whereas for everyone else it's clear, no matter how hard he squints his eyes to try and see what's behind the window, theres always a possibility that he may think wrongly about the feelings and mix this current feeling for something else. hence why he can't tell if this 'love' is platonic or romantic.
chifuyu broke the silence with a question "would you date her?" to which kazutora responded with a pained and stressed "I don't know" any more of this and he might just get agitated from the amount of strain he has with his emotions
"okay wait let's start off simple" chifuyu waving his hands in front of him to switch up the question. Baji looked over at him a little confused on what he's gonna do or ask but after a few questions in, he understood clearly what game chifuyu is playing.
asking him some basic questions such as, "would you hold her hand?" to which kazu said how you both already do. "would you kiss her?" and with almost no hesitation kazu replied with a yes. "would you text her every day and night?" maybe? it depends "would you tell her that you love her? lets start with platonicly" yes. "would you do something sexual with her" if she's comfortable.
before either chifuyu or Baji could ask another question in hopes of kazu being able to open his mind more, kazutora spoke up and cut their next question off.
these questions went back and forth and over time kazutora knew what Chifuyu was doing, and although some questions seemed to be a little hard to answer at first, he felt almost relieved to answer them because over time he managed to link everything up and be able to unblur the window from before. he finally understood... kinda.
"I'd date her..." but even with saying this out loud it still made his stomach turn, something still wasn't right which made him feel as if something was wrong with what he just claimed, or maybe theres something wrong with him. but he didn't verbalise this feeling.
both Baji and chifuyu smiled at kauz's little statement about wanting to date you, they even exclaimed a few words here and there as if they were proud of him for being able to realise that he generally wants you.
"but I think I'll wait for her to do the first move" kazutora's smile died down a little from before and after stating this their 'little' celebration also died down
"oh c'mon! you went through all this just to not come forward to her?" - chifuyu
"that makes sense" Baji nodding his head but then froze for a second when a thought came up "but what if she never does?" this definitely didn't cause kazu to become relieved, it caused the opposite.
'shit' he thought. there's always that being a possibility. if you never end up making a move on taking the friendship further into it being romantic then he'll never be able to express himself the way he wishes to, he won't be able to cuddle you close to the point where it seems as if your soles would conjoin, he won't be able to feel his face being plastered with your sweet kisses, and he certainly won't be able to call you his.
why is 'love' so frustrating?
"I think you should make your move" Baji suggested making chifuyu to nod his head in agreement. but it only caused kazu to let out a sigh, tired? frustrated? feeling nauseous again? it's all three at the same time.
he knows he can't keep up with this any longer, if for one day he feels fine with you but then the next he feels like he needs to be put in a mental asylum; it'll eventually cause him to break completely, and that's far from what he wants for himself. and then again, what if you love him but only platonicly? even if kazutora secretly is still unsure what he feels, he knows that if you were to make the first move hell agree to whatever words you spew out if it means that you both will get together and be able to do all those comforting, romantic activities.
he buried his face in his hands and mumbled a few curse words to himself which caused Chifuyu and Baji to share an almost apologetic look. "hey, don't beat yourself up! were thinking of the worst case here but what if she's feeling the same way as you" chifuyu spoke up trying to ease some sort of pain, Baji pitched in too "I reckon shes feeling the same way you are"
"forget it, I'll get over her at some point" kazu lifting his head up from his hands and repositioning himself comfortably on the floor. it's like his whole demeanor changed from being all beat up to just brushing it off with a 'whatever' but we all know this is just a facade and he'll eventually break again, hes not that strong in terms of being able to contain his emotions.
 ♡---
as of currently, he's given up on the topic and there's nothing that could make him re-continue the subject. but one day, he'll get his senses knocked back on alert and his eyes will glisten with hearts because his mind had decided that he's sick and tired of this longing feeling which will lead to him confess about his emotions and feelings towards you. it could be months, weeks, days, or of the strain that he has is too much right now it could even be a few hours, but who knows.
if there's one thing that's for sure though, it's that kazutora truly does love her but he's just unfamiliar with the feeling and due to that it's making him freak out. it's like putting a rain forest lizard in a desert and expecting it to immediately adapt, the sudden change in temperature and environment will cause the lizard to be put under too much stress and soon enough it'll flake away into the oblivion. maybe not the best example to use in terms of the end but the beginning is definitely on point.
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nelkcats · 2 years ago
Text
The inbetween
Amity Park had been suffering from increasingly tense moments. After years the portal slowly became unstable, spilling a large amount of environmental ectoplasm into the city and producing various changes in its inhabitants.
Ghosts had stopped being a problem a long time ago but the G.I.W never stopped. They got to a point where they started seeing the Amity Parkers as ghosts due to their liminal state, which made the halfa very nervous.
Not knowing what else he could do, Danny sat on the roof of his house. He knew that the portal would explode, that asking the government for help was pointless, and that the Amity Parkers were growing more and more afraid. At least they were accepting their new changes with some amusement.
"I wish I could keep them safe" the halfa whispered. Knowing full well who was listening. For once Desiree took pity on him, probably because the townspeople were so kind once the ghosts stopped attacking.
The wish was granted and Amity disappeared from the map leaving warnings of danger on the printed maps. When the portal exploded the Realms and the city were combined. Leaving Amity as the most sensitive point to the land of the death and the union between both dimensions.
They had a hard time adjusting at first but found that they could get away from the town as long as they hid their new features and don't scare near cities. They created their own civilization and made contact with the ghosts of their deceased friends.
Years later, the legend of the lost civilization began to be told. Like planes and cars that disappeared whenever they entered the "A.P" perimeter on the map, similarly to the bermuda triangle but on the ground. And it didn't take long for people to become curious, of course none of them came back.
Constantine warned the League not to go, that the only wizard to leave the place refused to say anything about it, but told about ancient humans who had evolved to become one with death. The magician disappeared a few days later. The League decided to take the risk and investigate.
Sure, Amity wasn't holding anyone prisoner, just asking for a bit of discretion. People stayed because the sight of someone you've lost a long time, be it a voice or a spirit can make you lose your mind. And people used to move, to learn or meet again. Not that the League knew any of that.
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literaila · 10 months ago
Note
*mischievous laugh* mueheheh
hypothetically, what if reader dies? 😈 what will poor megumi and tsumiki do now? what would gojo do too? 🥸
um… hello??? what is wrong with—
okay, so let’s start off with the simplest reaction. megumi is out for vengeance.
it’s clear that he’s got a bit of a… sadistic nature to him (undefined by whatever morals normal people have, yeah whatever). but why is he strong if not to protect the world from evil things? why does he have power if he’s not supposed to use it?
so, you being a jujutsu sorcerer, it’s likely that you died fighting a curse. if that’s the case, megumi is hunting that curse down and eliminating it in an instant. and then he keeps going. he’s going to kill every curse he can find, because you shouldn’t have died.
if anyone doesn’t deserve to die, it’s you.
and while megumi can hear your words in his head, telling him to protect others, to take care of people, to stay with his family… if you’re gone, what does it matter?
megumi will live in his anger. he doesn’t need depression or acceptance. what he needs is you, and if he can’t have you anymore…
and then there’s tsumiki. she wouldn’t feel angry, like megumi, but lost.
it’s obvious that she believes there’s a sort of destiny within the world. she thinks that all bad things happen so that the good things, the truly good things, can come next. she believes that you have to feel pain to feel pleasure. she trusts this idea.
before you die, tsumiki isn’t afraid of anything.
but after you die, she loses her purpose. her ideals, her faith in the world.
she goes from the trusting little girl who would believe satoru if he told her that he was really a robot with a human heart inside of him, from the girl who took everything at face value, believed that all people should protect each other, help each other—
she goes from your little girl to something entirely different.
what’s the point of this? she wonders. if her mom had to die to bring her to you and satoru, she understands. if she and megumi had to take care of themselves for a year—living in some apartment that didn’t have running water—just to find a real family, then it was worth it.
but what’s worth it if you’re dead? what’s the point to losing another mom, another person that tsumiki was supposed to help take care of?
she can’t do anything, though. she’s always been the most powerless of her family members. and after you die, she’s not your little girl anymore.
she’s just lost.
and, of course, satoru.
i think he shares the same grief that both megumi and tsumiki feel—anger, denial—but he’s older than them. he loves you differently than they ever could.
there was a time when satoru had pushed you away just to get back to that place where he was nothing but strong. where his feelings had no bearing in his power, where emotions didn’t matter as long as he was the honored one.
but, really, if it takes you dying to get back to that place—then satoru never wants to be strong again.
when suguru died, satoru was committed to carrying out his plans. to protecting sorcerers from a world forged against them. he wanted to train a generation of sorcerers who didn’t have to worry about dying with regrets, who could take care of themselves along with all of the non-sorcerers in the world.
to eradicate cursed energy, in whatever capacity.
but when you die, satoru loses all that purpose. why should he care about the world when he no longer has to protect you from it?
why should he care at all?
so, just like after riko died, satoru is back to being nothing but a vessel for power. he doesn’t care who he kills, what he kills, as long as it has some meaning, some pointless purpose that doesn’t matter to him.
but, it only takes one memory of you to snap him out of it. he can almost feel you clawing at his chest, your voice begging him to take care of them.
so, eventually, satoru finds his way home. he’s got two other people to protect.
and he’ll be damned if anything happens to them.
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kazumiwrites-fanfiction · 1 year ago
Text
You Can't Swim??
SUMMARY: The Octotrio don't know that you have never learned to swim. And you went to a beach. What could go wrong? WORD COUNT: 1.9k (I need to sleep)
WARNINGS: Floyd almost let you drown, reader kind of gets panic attacks? Idk (I'm the writer I should know, someone hit me), reader thinks about whacking Floyd, Azul is genuinely in love, Azul is also very traumatized I think, Azul overthinks A/N: Gotta love how I have no warnings about Jade I- Gotta love getting a fic idea about me being unable to swim- And I've had this thought swimming (lol) in my thoughts for a couple of days?? Idk if reader is the significant other of these guys or just besties. I think it leans toward s/o though This reads like a crack fic to me but honestly make sure you know how to swim so you don't die (i don't but that's not the point here) Maybe OOC Jade because he hides himself too well for me to get an accurate read on personality lmfao When Jade is genuinely sweet but the others are unhinged so naturally the unhinged ones are longer- I'm sorry I get no decent ideas for Jade </3 Another late late night post (it's 1:50 AM)
© kazumiwrites - All rights reserved; please do not steal, edit, copy, repost (etc) my work without my express permission.
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You had never learned to swim. It wasn't that you were afraid, really. It was just that you had passed the age where people normally learned, and now you were too lazy to and/or didn't have enough time. Whatever excuse to stop a nagging person.
Now, this wouldn't have been a problem if you never went anywhere near bodies of water. Which you mostly didn't. However, knowing merfolk was not the best idea if you didn't know how to swim.
Now you have gone to the beach with him, and that probably wasn't the best idea for either of you.
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Floyd Leech
You had been sitting on the beach near the water, absently looking over some shells as Floyd splashed around deeper in the ocean. The shells really were interesting - nothing like the ones where you had come from (although they had some similarities) and were colorful. So many shapes and varieties, although most were not intact.
You had been so engrossed in this, in fact, that you hadn't realized Floyd had been sneaking up on you. Before you could say another word, he playfully dragged you into the water. While you were fully clothed.
You weren't expecting to go into the water, but you should've known better with Floyd. He was playful and loved to do stuff like this. Usually if Azul was around, he'd have done something… But he wasn't here.
Before you knew it, you were deeper in the ocean than you ever had been before, courtesy to the teal-haired boy swimming and dragging you along. You flailed around a bit, eyes wide in panic. You were, quite honestly, terrified. And it obviously didn't help when Floyd just immediately let you go.
Was he an idiot or was he an idiot?
"Floyd-" You got out before coughing as water shot up your nose, still flailing miserably. It didn't work. You didn't know what to do. Surely, Floyd would help… If he realized what was going on. No matter what you thought, he was bright, wasn't he?
Not bright enough, it seemed, as he was still laughing and not realizing how actually panicked you were.
"Koebi-chan, you look so ridiculous like that," he laughed, almost in hysterics, and you would've smacked him if you weren't so close to actually dying.
And then you sunk.
Your desperate attempts to go to the surface were pointless as you didn't even know how to float or move around in the water.
After a few seconds, Floyd finally noticed you were gone and quickly dove under the surface. Maybe you were trying to get him back?
But his gaze immediately widened as he saw you literally sinking to the ocean floor. His eel tail moved quickly, almost without thinking as he shot to grab you and take you up, up, up so you could actually breathe.
When you came to, you were on the sandy beach again, Floyd leaning over you. His eyes, normally filled with a joking light, were unusually subdued.
"Koebi-chan, why didn't you tell me you couldn't swim?" A pout grew on Floyd's face. "If I knew, I wouldn't have-"
"Yes you would have. We would still be here, just having a different conversation."
"But-"
"No buts."
"I would've made it more fun-"
"Drowning in the ocean is the opposite of fun, Floyd-"
~Bonus because I don't know how to fit one into the story~ "I can teach you how to swim. You just go whoo and let your body move. Y'know. Like dancing." "No, I don't know, Floyd, and this is not going to help me with anything-"
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Jade Leech
Jade had been spending his time on the beach with you, but you were almost certain that he wanted to be swimming in the ocean. It was his natural element, after all.
"Jade, you sure you don't want to go in the water?"
"I'm fine staying here with you, [Y/N]." He gave you a soft smile.
You shook your head. "We've come all the way here, you might as well go swim." You gave him a gentle nudge.
"Well, I'd like you to come with me, if that is possible?" He watched you quietly. "You never go swimming with me."
You paused. Although it was sweet that he wanted you to go with him… "No, I don't think so…" You trailed off. You never liked telling people that you couldn't swim. At this point, it was embarrassing.
The pair of heterochromia eyes staring at you only left you feeling more jittery. "…I, er… I can't swim. So going into the ocean with you sounds kind of like… A bad idea." You froze. "Did you use your Signature Spell on me?"
"Of course not, [Y/N]." Jade stared at you with eyes of hurt, one that looked almost identical to that of his twin's. Only, it was almost obvious that Jade didn't mean the hurt in his eyes. "You just trust me enough to say things to me."
You couldn't deny the truth there. You trusted Jade. "And you wouldn't use your Signature Spell on something so trivial, would you?"
"No, I would not." He shrugged. "On a different note, I can help you learn how to swim."
"I really don't need it-"
"What if someone tries to hurt you one day and they know your weakness?"
"Why would-"
"It's an example, [Y/N]. But if that person decides to do that, you wouldn't be able to do anything. So I should help you in case that scenario occurs."
You sighed softly. "Fine, I guess I can take lessons from you… If it's not too much of a hassle."
"Of course it would not be a hassle or anything of the sort." Jade inclined his head. "All to help you stay safe."
The day went on with Jade helping you learn the basics of swimming - he was a good teacher, which you were happy about. He was patient, and always was there if you ever started to panic.
"We wouldn't want you getting scared of the ocean now, would we?"
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Azul Ashengrotto
Azul had gotten used to you after a couple months. Sure, he hadn't opened up to many people in a while (only Floyd and Jade, but they also teased him constantly about everything, so), but you were soothing and nice. Sure, you teased him sometimes, but it was different. It didn't feel mean, you stopped as soon as you noticed him looking a little uncomfortable, and… He honestly felt like he could open up about anything.
So when it was decided that you two were going to the beach - together - alone? It kind of made him very messed up.
Would you like being at the beach with him? He wasn't completely against showing his octopus form… Would you want him to swim with you? Was he even ready for that?
Those thoughts led him down a spiral, and the day you two were to go, he had bags under his eyes and looked like he was half-dead.
You gently nudged him, murmuring how he should've tried to get more sleep for this day supposedly filled with fun, but he just shrugged.
Soon, you were at the beach, and as Azul saw your smiling face, his gaze softened a little. He loved seeing your happy face.
"C'mon!" You grabbed Azul's hand as you started to run to the water, ignoring his surprised stumbling as he was dragged along. He had a light flush on his cheeks that he was glad you couldn't see.
Soon, you had reached the edge of the water, splashing around in your sandals. It was really fun, even though you knew that you were going to be getting sand in your toes later on.
Azul just kind of watched on, a relaxed expression on his face. This really was soothing… Although he was still thinking about if the Mostro Lounge would be okay with him gone. Surely Jade would do something if Floyd got into trouble… Hopefully. And hopefully, no more dishes would break.
"What are you looking so glum for?" Your voice brought him back to his senses.
"Nothing, just hoping that Jade and Floyd can take care of things at the Mostro Lounge." He sighed softly.
"Oh, I'm sure they'll be fine. Jade's there, right?"
"He can cause as much trouble as Floyd, you know. Although he won't be outright about it." Azul shook his head, a small frown on his face.
"C'mon, turn that frown upside down." You moved closer to him, gently squishing his cheeks. "Today is for having fun, Azul."
"Yes, yes, I know." Azul couldn't help himself; he let out a soft laugh. A genuine one.
You smiled brightly. "You aren't charging me for hearing your little cute laugh?"
"I will charge you if you call it cute."
"Of course you will." You rolled your eyes before abruptly changing the subject. "So are you not going to swim?"
Azul paused. Did you want him to swim? To see his true form? There was an even chance. What should his answer be? "Er… I don't know?"
"Of course you don't have to, Azul, I just thought… I mean, there's no one around." You shrugged a little.
And now more pressure on Azul. Great. He was used to dealing with pressure, yes. Just not this kind from you. "Er… Would you come swim with me?" If you were with him, then maybe…
"No." Your lips parted, maybe to offer an explanation, but it was too late.
Azul was in a downward spiral. Why had you said no? Perhaps octopi merfolk were really too much. Perhaps you would rather be with someone with a pretty tailfin than tentacles. Or maybe a human, one of your own kind. Who said that you even liked him at all? Perhaps you were only with him out of pity, because he was that useless, chubby, good-for-nothing-
"Azul? Azul, are you listening to me?"
He snapped back to attention.
"Seriously, are you okay? Did you seriously get enough sleep last night?" You sighed.
"That's none of your-"
"It is if you're literally zoning out every five seconds." You rolled your eyes. "And anyway, I was just saying that I kind of can't go deeper into the ocean where you probably feel comfortable swimming. Because I can't swim." You shrugged nonchalantly.
But for Azul, it felt like a figurative bomb had been dropped.
You? Couldn't swim? Now that he thought about it, it did make sense… How you always looked so awkward and uncomfortable with water, especially when you came to the Octavinelle dorm. But seriously? How could you not know how to swim?
"Is not knowing how to swim… Normal?"
"Definitely not." You rolled your eyes. "But I'm just too lazy to learn now. And I have no time."
"You do if you have time to scroll on Magicam." Finally, Azul felt a bit better. At least you didn't hate him.
"And this time, I'll teach you how to swim. I'll even do it free of charge." Azul shook his head. "Seeing as I'm so generous."
"You sound like headmage Crowley."
"Do be quiet."
Azul was a pretty good teacher. He ended up not turning into his octopus form until nearly the end of the day, you were practicing your swimming and then just playing around on the sand, building sand castles, anything that you might do at a normal beach outing.
His octopus form was beautiful (as expected), and although you couldn't go to deeper waters, you enjoyed seeing him swim around, always eventually coming back to you.
"Today was truly relaxing, [Y/N]. We should do this again another time."
As always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! ♡ Send your thoughts grr
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natalievoncatte · 2 years ago
Text
CW: discussion of death and dying.
The gun was still on her hip when Lena walked into her penthouse. She probably should have gotten rid of it, just for the sake of disposing of evidence. It was far from the only one she owned, and she wouldn’t miss it. Then again, one does not discard lightly the weapon of fratricide. She’d decide what to do with the murder weapon later; right now, there was only one thought screaming in her head.
I killed Lex. I killed my brother.
It kept repeating in her brain on an endless loop.
I killed my brother for a liar. A betrayer. He was right and I was wrong. She only-
Lena was not alone. There was a figure seated on her sofa, staring straight ahead. Lena knew those blond curls, falling in a dark river like warm honey. Supergirl.
Supergirl, not Kara. Kara was good. Kara loved her, trusted her, watched out for her, had her back. Kara kept her secrets and gave her a shoulder to cry on always had her back. Kara was good, and Kara was a lie.
Lena walked around the couch, eyes wide and lips trembling, her features pulled into a mask of morose fury. How dare she just break in here and… sit there.
“I died.”
Lena froze.
“I died,” Supergirl said, again. “The clone of me that Lex had, she was a duplicate created by Harun-El somehow. She killed me. I died.”
Supergirl’s brilliant blue eyes flashed in the twilight of Lena’s dark apartment and locked on her.
“There was nothing. No warm light of Rao welcoming me home to live in peace with my people forever. No tunnel of light. There was just nothing. I was gone and then I wasn’t. Alex said the grass brought me back.”
Lena licked her lips. She was fixed to the spot.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I’m Kara.”
Those two little words, those treacherous words, hit Lena like a freight train. Her knees buckled and she sagged, catching herself by an end table.
Kara met her gaze.
“There were a million reasons why I never told you. They’re all stupid and pointless. When I woke up that was the first thing I thought of. I died and I never told you.”
Lena tried to speak, but her throat had gone so dry that it was like trying to breath through a mournful of sand. She sagged further, barely able to fall into a side chair.
“At first I just didn’t know you well enough. Then I screwed everything up by being a complete ass to you, and I never even said I was sorry. But I was sorry. So I was too scared to tell you because I didn’t want you to hate me. Then by the time I wanted to tell you again, all of this had happened and I was still afraid you’d hate me.”
Kara looked down at the floor.
“But then I was dead and none of it mattered anymore. None of the things that had been important to me mattered when I was dying. You know what I was thinking as she crushed the life out of me?”
“No,” Lena choked out.
“This is it?” said Kara. “All that… and this is it? Just like that? This is all I get?”
Silence ruled the dark apartment. The back edge of Lena’s gun dug uncomfortably into her flank. Kara just sat there, looking through the floor. Perhaps literally.
“Kara,” Lena said, without quite knowing why. “I’m sure… you weren’t…”
“No, Lena, I died. It wasn’t like when Reign beat me to a pulp and threw me off a building. That was different. This was different. I can’t even say how. I just know.”
When Reign…
Lena had been there that night. Reign had beaten Supergirl into a coma, thrown her off a building and left her broken and bloodied in the street. Lena thought she’d died that night.
Wait.
That was Kara, too.
Sharp, rancid bile, harsh and acidic, burned the back of Lena’s throat. She choked it down, trembling.
Kara looked at her again.
“I have something else I have to tell you.”
Lena needed a drink. Now. She wobbled across the room to the kitchen and grabbed the nearest wine bottle, pouring herself a glass and downing half of it in one go. It was a dry red, harsh and sharp on her tongue.
“Kara,” Lena began. “Before you say anything else-“
“I’m in love with you.”
Lena wasn’t sure what she expected Kara to say, but not that. Not just… say it. She couldn’t say it. Not when Lena has been grasping that secret so hard that it always threatened to slip from her fingers, reedy to leap from her grip from being held so tight. The words simultaneously made her feel as if her heels would float from the floor and nearly drove her down to it. She leaned on the white marble countertop, trembling.
“None of the reasons I kept that secret matter anymore, either. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I’ll leave if you want me to. I just… I died,” Kara’s voice crumbled into a sob, barely intelligible, “and I didn’t tell you.”
Lena said nothing. She downed the rest of the wine.
“What do you want from me?” She finally choked out.
“I want to tell you about Krypton. I want movie nights and game nights and big belly burgers and brunches. I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you so bad I don’t know how I never did. If you want that.”
Again, Lena went silent.
“I want to make up for the shit I’ve put you through. I want to show you how much I care for you, as often and as thoroughly as I can. Dying without you fucking sucked. I want to live with you instead.”
Lena’s breath quickened. Kara’s boots creaked as she stood up, her cape billowing slightly behind her as she crossed the room, keeping a respectful distance.
“I’ll go, if you want. I just had to say it.”
Lena pressed her fingers against the countertop until they went white and her palms trembled. She felt the weight of the gun on her hip.
“Stay,” she whispered.
There is no prompt for this one. The idea just came to me and I had to write it out.
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