#I want to bash my skull open
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I’m not asexual at all I drool over the hot 40yo single dad in my class but god fuck I hate sex so much. It’s boring. I never want to think about my favorite ships fucking because it’s so absolutely nothing. “Omg who tops the other?!” Who fucking cares. What’s the interest here. None. Because there’s nothing here. Who’s cradling the decaying body of the other they killed in a fit of rage? Oh sorry. Thats too much isn’t it. Let’s go back to poorly written porn instead. Instead of exploring how a completely asexual race conceptualizes emotions and experiences and affection let’s just make them fuck and reproduce like humans. Because you can’t escape your human perspective for one second nor can you stop being a pervert for the sake of something actually worth a damn.
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I yelled about it a lot in the tags but what's most funny to me about Last Laugh as an episode is that what it proves to us is that BJ has the ability to be incredibly awful, cruel, and sadistic way sooner than I actually anticipated.
A lot of attention gets put on what a terrible friend Leo was, how awful BJ's picks of pals must've been if that was his best man, how Hawk is maybe one of the first people who shows BJ what a real and kind friendship can be.
But the reality is that before Leo pulls the hand buzzer on Hawk, explodes the cigar on BJ, or has gotten BJ in a single bit of trouble, BJ is the one who chose to swipe Leo's travel papers. Absolutely unearned. Absolutely unnecessary. BJ heard that his friend—who has been in Korea MUCH longer than him, mind you—was going home, and his first instinct was to sneak his papers out so that Leo wouldn't make his flight.
Here's what we know for a fact: Leo signed BJ's name to the hotel ledger. Leo would've recognized that his damages would be attached to BJ's name, and if anybody knows where he lives, it's BJ. That money's coming out of Leo's pocket when everything is said and done. He just has to make sure the gag hits first. But here's what we also know: Leo had no way of knowing what his actions were ultimately going to cause in terms of the arrest and the threats on BJ's safety and person. He did not plan for such a thing nor did he orchestrate it. It was pure happenstance that a man who was full of himself was having an affair in the room next to Leo's, and BJ just happened to get his name caught in the crossfire.
So really, at the end of it all, BJ is goddamn lucky that Leo's gag blew out of proportion and exploded in BJ's face, because if nothing had happened? Not even a hand buzzer or a cigar? BJ just kept him from making it home on time. He was feeling sadistic enough in that moment about not being able to go home himself that he wanted to make his best man at his wedding suffer and be delayed for who knows how long on a whim.
And goddamn, but that's fascinating, isn't it? Because when you see his pranks in Dear Sigmund, they're playful, they're harmless, they're just made to embarrass somebody. This is really the first time we see him make a move to cause real, intentional emotional damage to somebody that he cares about. He's making this man not only drive to an air base through a warzone, but he then has to turn around and drive all the way back.
And then once he does know that Leo got BJ arrested, even after Leo's apologized quite a bit, even before the hotel bill arrives, BJ decides a proper punishment is for his friend to be stranded and have to walk back, again, in a warzone. When one of BJ's first experiences in Korea was seeing what becomes of people who just happen to be walking through a warzone.
And that's very, very interesting.
#last laugh#my ramblings#i'll circle back and put this in my tags later but i don't really want it super tagged on main rn ack#i mean it when i say i'm incredibly fascinated btw#this is not bj bashing in any way this is me opening his skull and poking his naked brain again#and asking him to tell me exactly what happened to make him willing to act like that with leo in the first place#(though i already have my own headcanons for my fics ofc)
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love to fuckup at work repeatedly in a way that makes me look completely incompetent. love that. definitely good for my self esteem and also future job prospects.
#love to make basically the same mistake over and over again#you know how you get exhausted when someone has to ask the same question over and over?#don’t worry sometimes the person asking is exhausted too!#and I assure you I want to bash my skull open way more than you do!#cupcakes needs a personal tag
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google show results for how to smash my head against the wall without making any noise or sound because noises are far too scary
#tw sh#I guess#tw sh implied#tw sh related#my rambles#self h@rm#i want to bash my head into a wall#or something#please#just get the urge to sometimes and I don't know why#just sitting and scrolling through pinterest and some part of me will go 'just bruise your face n crack your skull open right fucking now'#and its like no thank you#Im good#cw sh#cw sh mention#slef harm#self harm implied#self harm#gotta tag this shit so people who block these tags don't see it#which is difficult when people decide to report posts with certain tags!!!!!!!! you're making this harder for everyone involved#I should probably make these tags a separate post actually#my fuckin god#tw s/h#tw s/h mention
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i know if i sleep tonight i will have a nightmare. being awake isnt much better right now though.
#calamarispeaks#i hate you i hate you i hate you#i hope you trip and cracl your skull open#i hope you get hit by a car#i hope you trip and fall into a dotch and cant get back out and you break your phone and you starve to death#i hope your rotting flesh and bones are eaten by something actually fucking useful#you are so disgusting and vile your rotting flesh will be more useful than you#choke on your shitty energy drinks and collapse in front of that fucking computer. i hope your body isnt found for at least two weeks#you piece of shit you make me want to die#you make me want to bash my head into a wall and make myself throw out#you are rotten and disgusting#i hope your life ends before it can become as miserable as your presence makes people feel#you have the blessing to be the first person i hate on such an extreme and person level#you pretentious fuck i hate you so much#i cant believe i ever thought you were an okay person#also your room and home is disgusting and you need to fucking learn how to cook#your art sucks because you are a bad person and you frankly have very few skills of importance#i try to appreciate every sort of art but your art is honestly awful. you have neither skill nor meaning. fuck off and die#vent
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Hiii! I saw that ur requests are open so may I request an Umemiya x f!reader where Umemiya saves her from a gang that tried to invade the town, maybe she has a few cuts and bruises cause the gang already yk hit her and stuff then when Ume saved her he removed his uniform coat thing and puts it around her and carried her princess style to a safe area (maybe his house or her house or anywhere safe is fine)
Sorry if this is too specific… I’ve been so hooked to Wind Breaker that I read the manga too… and if you can’t tell my fave character is Umemiya🥹🥰 he’s just a sweetheart too😭
₊˚ʚ 🌱 his little one (hajime umemiya x reader)✧゚🌿
✿ contains: fluff, comfort, soft and loving ume having the biggest crush on you, angry feral ume when see saw you got hurt - this man can do both lol ✿ a/n: aaaa umemiya is such a sweetie! i totally get why you love him, and the way he'd show you his love for you would be through protecting you with his life! i put my own little twist on it~ hope that's fine with you, cutie (๑'ᵕ'๑)⸝* have fun reading, thank you for this lovely request! ✿ wc: 850
you were hajime umemiya's beloved little plant shop darling, his favorite part of the town. he frequented your store whenever he needed new and fresh seeds, a chat and exchange of plant care tips here and there, and of course because he wanted to see you.
umemiya fell in love with you at first sight, and he'd been courting you for a while now. how could he not, you were just the kindest and sweetest little dewdrop that ever existed. he swore he would do anything and everything in his power to keep you safe.
"little one, look what i brought! i hope you're not allergic to flowe-" he pauses in his tracks, horrified to see your beloved plant store messy and ruined, plants and soil strewn everywhere, with scattered broken pieces of glass.
umemiya was fuming with anger. his smile quickly disappeared as he hurriedly went to find you.
there you were, sitting helplessly on the ground, sobbing. it shattered his heart into a million pieces to see you this way. "what happened?" speaking to you in a soft voice, he caressed your cheek with his fingers, wiping away the strewn tears on your face with his thumb. "who did this to you, little one?" he inspected the cuts and bruises from your arm when you tried to defend yourself and your plants from being destroyed, but to no avail.
the culprit was a street gang, one that attempted to cause war with furin. they heard from their sources that you were umemiya's special little seedling, one of the most important people in the world to him, and so they infiltrated the town to mess with him, messing with you being a part of their nasty plan.
little did they know, that was the biggest mistake of their lives.
umemiya had his speculations and saw some men running away, looking like they were attempting escape. he sprinted towards them in lightning speed, his feral instinct to protect you overtaking him, repeatedly hitting and stepping on the guys, bashing their skulls in with his knee.
"do you have any idea how much care and effort she puts into taking care of her shop and her plants?! you destroyed her dream." umemiya showed no signs of stopping, fists clashing against the guy's face. "what are you going to do about it now, huh? you made her cry, her beautiful smile is gone!" umemiya had never lost his composure like this. the thought of you getting hurt ruined him. he couldn't bear it.
luckily, hiragi and his team came running to umemiya, stopping him from possibly killing the gang members, and told him they'll take it from there, and that he should go check on you.
umemiya rushes back to your store and cradles you in his arms, comforting you and telling you that everything was going to be okay. you sobbed as he held you, umemiya taking off his furin coat and putting it around your shoulders. "i'm sorry, little one. i'm sorry that i couldn't protect what's important to you...but i'm glad i could at least protect what's important to me." he presses a kiss to your forehead.
"ume...did you get hurt anywhere?" you looked up at him with puppy eyes, it worried you to see that his knuckles were all scratched up from defending your honor.
"no worries! i'm fine, but you must be so scared, little one. there, there." he smoothens your hair with his hand and embraces you. "i'll come everyday and help you revive the shop, okay? i'm here now. i won't let anything bad happen to you anymore." he says to you.
"come now, let's get your wounds treated." umemiya scoops you up in his arms, as if you were as light as a feather. "speaking of treat...how about i also treat you to the world's most delicious omurice? maybe it'll put back that smile on your face." you nodded in agreement, umemiya carrying you all the way to pothos elicited some giggles and whistles from onlookers around the town who thought that you two were the cutest. umemiya was definitely not afraid to show everyone his affection for you, and your eyes were only on him too, your knight in shining armor.
and that's how you and umemiya found love amidst the chaos.
ꕤ bonus ꕤ
"oh, by the way, they're a little squished but, here!" he hands you the forgotten flowers, as you let out a giggle. he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, thinking to himself for the millionth time how beautiful your smile is. "i hope you like it, little one!"
"ume, i've been meaning to ask...why do you call me 'little one'?" you inquired, placing the flowers on your lap gently, while you took a spoonful of omurice that you shared with umemiya at the pothos café, you two looking like little lovebirds only sharing one plate of food.
"hmm, because you're so little compared to me, and you're my one and only." he smiled happily as your cheeks slowly turned as red as his tomato plant.
© kajibunny 2024 / all rights reserved
#wind breaker x reader#umemiya x reader#umemiya hajime x reader#umemiya hajime#umemiya#windbreaker x reader#wind breaker (satoru nii)#windbreaker#wind breaker fluff#wind breaker fic#wind breaker imagines#wind breaker comfort#wind breaker scenarios#wind breaker x y/n#bofurin x reader#requests from cuties ~ ☆
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More random things in Blue Lock I find endearing:
-> Brothers
LOOK AT THE HAND PLACEMENT OF SAE. JUST LOOK AT IT. LOOK. AT. IT. OHMYGOD I'M GONNA CRY.
Oh god.
It's tough to explain, but to see him supporting Rin's arm instead of the trophy makes me want to punch a wall. It feels like, "Yes, we won this together, Rin." OHMYGOD! AAAAAAAA!!!
-> Hushed wisher
I really don't think we have ever seen Noa coaching any player other than Isagi, so him silently rooting for Kaiser caught me off guard real hard. Of course, it doesn't seem like much of a big deal, but to see that Noa hadn't completely taken his eyes off of Kaiser and that he hadn't completely pulled away his trust from Kaiser hits a certain type of emotion in my heart.
Considering that Kaiser wants to win over Noa too—a fact Noa, probably, knows—makes everything feel a bit.. bittersweet.
-> CHEERS!!
The above panel happened after Shidou scored a goal against Barcha and honestly—
CUTE!!!
I mean, BM was next in line to face PxG—it's probably the reason why they were watching the match live—and they were going to face Shidou which makes them rivals, and yet, when he does something cool, they all go, "WOOHOO! THAT'S COOL!!" instead of worrying or being jealous.
It's called sportsmanship, I guess?
It's sweet.
-> BM's Dad
There's another translation, but I find the above one way better because it's so... soft.
I mean, Noa has always been shown as this cold, emotionless person who inhales and exhales logic, so it was sweet when he tried to reassure Kiyora—when he showed some kind of compassion. It was like, "Hey, Kiddo! It's okay, don't worry, you'll play the next time! Cheer up!"
It also makes it sound like even if Kiyora were not to have the required stats for the next match, then Noa was prepared to against his own ideals and let Kiyora play regardless.
Sweet!
-> Protective
When Nagi got pissed off because Barou's violent behaviour nearly hurt Reo. Like, just look at that stance, he was ready to beat the crap out of Barou if Reo wouldn't have stopped him.
No matter what label you give Nagi and Reo—lovers or friends—you can't deny that they are probably the best thing that happened to eachother.
I really want what they have.
-> "It's their love language"
They barely knew eachother and yet when these two started to brawl, they all intervened immediately—Nanase and Isagi are literally hanging onto them with their dear life. It's tough to explain, but I found the gesture really sweet, like, they didn't know them! They could bash open their skulls—it wouldn't affect them at all and yet, they are trying to stop them!
Adorbs!!
Also, Chigiri was on the other side of the field, I guess. He came running!!! So sweet!
-> First friend
The way Bachira blindly believed in Isagi. Like, he had full trust that Isagi will come and play with him. He never doubted him at all! The healthiest duo of Blue Lock!
Also, look at his duck lips. Cutie.
-> "Welcome to the academy!"
Anybody who has shifted to a completely new place full of completely new people knows how good and relieving it feels when others make an effort to help you feel welcomed.
No idea if those three extra characters got selected in the tryouts or not, but they were nice. If Kaiser would've met them earlier, then they all would've surely been good buddies.
-> Beloved Ace
The way everyone instantly got mad at Shidou when he hurt Sendou—sweet! Also, the fact that they all refused to play if Sendou didn't play makes me giggle.
I adore bonds like these so much.
.
.
.
Pt: 1, 2, 3.
Probably the last of this series.
#blue lock#bllk#itoshi sae#itoshi rin#noel noa#bastard munchen#kiyora jin#nagi seishiro#mikage reo#bachira meguru#michael kaiser#sendou shuto#雪 ranting
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Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: From Party of Two, to Family of Three
Sunday Surprise takes place right before this, but not necessary for this part
notes: you guys already know this is my favorite little crackhead family. While we've been enjoying Sarah's adventures out of order for a while, lot of people have been asking when we'll meet Ellie. Which I didn't feel it was right until we actually see Sarah's birth! So here she is. Please enjoy!
warnings: childbirth (not too graphic), a shit ton of language, comedy and fuff
- - - -
They say childbirth is a miracle. It's the single greatest, most amazing, most heavenly, life giving, breath of fresh air day of any parent’s life.
What they don't say (almost as if conveniently forgetting to even mention it) is that the moments leading up to the birth are the single most excruciating, marathon through the worst hell of a nightmare.
"YOUUU. YOUUUUUU MOTHER FUCKING--FUUCCKKEERRRR!!" The banshee (his wife, you) next to him in the car screeches directly into his ear, a death grip on his forearm.
He’s one handing these turns, blowing more red lights than he's ever yelled at Tommy for, while ready to lose his right hand to your talons and his hearing to your incessant wails.
"fuck YOU!OOOOWWAHAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
You squeeze your eyes shut, head crouched down while another wave of contractions splinters your insides apart. Every muscle known and unknown in your body is engaged.
"We're almost there, you’re gonna make it--"
"YouFUCKINGfuckSTICkofaFuCkFuckshitheadfuckingbastard mothershitstainfrigginFUCK!"
You'd bash his head against his window repeatedly if your other hand wasn't already occupied cupping your rupturing belly.
Joel’s never been simultaneously in control and losing it inside all at once. He’s got one goal right now: get you to the hospital in one piece.
That goes for driver safety but also to ensure the baby does NOT come out prior that because lord help him he would not know what comes next.
The truck screeches to a halt at the parking lot in 3 spaces. Joel tumbles out of the seat, missing a step and stumbling clumsily to his hands and knees on the pavement. He doesn’t even brush off the bruises and dirt as he’s running to you. You’ve nearly thrown him over again by how fast you swing the door open.
Both his sturdy, reliable, big hands are there for you when you take them, hoisting yourself with an agonizing yelp.
“You’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay, baby momma, you’re—“
“FUCK!!!!!”
You’re clutching your belly, now way lower than it ever has been. Each step feels like fire, with Joel cradling your back and trying to get you to the front door with quick steps.
“Baby! Baby now!” Joel shouts, pointing to you with wild and pleading eyes.
You let out a horrendous scream, stopping in your tracks. Your spine, your bones, your head, and especially your stomach, is all being hit by a truck right fucking now. And you’re crying, you’ve never cried like this. It’s not the fake shit he’s gotten so accustomed to when you want a cookie or milkshake or pussy eating. This is real.
They get you in a chair and wheel you off to the delivery unit, your hand squeezing the shit out of Joel’s but he’s never once let go. He’s gone so pale, running and running alongside you, trying to answer their questions about when it started, how long, what was due date, etc.
He’s doing a million things at once, and you’re just fighting to stay alive.
Oh, you also would forget everything you were saying at this moment. But thankfully, Joel, and the entire fucking hospital, wouldn’t.
“YOU FUCKING, COCK—FUCKER—SHIT FUCKCUnt cunt CUNT! FUCK-OHM Y MOTHERFUCKING GOD FUCK.”
They manage to get you stripped to the papery gown, push your ass onto the bed, spread you wide so the doctor can take a look.
They’re all so calm, walking around and nodding, hooking you up like you’re just here for a checkup, like they’ve done this a thousand times before.
Joel feels the worst stabbing pain along his skull as your nails dig into his hair and yank him down to your face.
“MILLER,” you seethe, venom and sweat breaking through your clenched teeth and slitted eyes.
“Y-yes?”
You force out harsh pants, groaning, but making sure he understands you clearly right fucking now. “Give me. A fucking. Epidural.”
“I-“
“NOW!!!!”
He looks around for some assistance. “Ep—is there an--”
“WHERES THE FUCKING EPIDURAL.”
Joel makes contact with the nurse, who checks below your legs again before resurfacing with the look Joel feared above all else. While you’re heaving and and moaning in pain, Joel receives the nonverbal confirmation she passes to him:
It’s too fucking late for an epidural.
Both Joel and the nurse also pass a clear, mutual understanding about how to pass that info on to you:
“ITS COMING!” He nods reassuringly to you, exceedingly over the top acting. “Right nurse? See she said it’s coming!”
“Any second now, we’ll get that epidural—“ she agrees, nodding and nodding with a thumbs up to you extra confidence.
“FUUUUCCCCKCKKKKKK,” you sink lower, back falling and head tossed as wave of new pain ripples through you.
“FUUCCKKING —Fuck J-Joel. Joel Miller—“
“yes baby, I’m here.”
“Im getting a fucking epidural.”
“Yes you fucking are.”
“You fuckers aren’t lying to me?”
Joel glances at the nurse again, who quickly shakes her head at you with her calm, straightforward, trusting voice of reason: “No ma’am we would never.”
Praise this woman, he thinks. “That’s right baby she’s telling ya, its coming—“
“I’ll FUCKING kill you, Joel Miller. Do you know that?”
“Yes-“
“I fucking HATE you right now.”
“Yes—“
“You shit—fuck bag motherfucker, I HATE you—you—you—“ and you start sobbing “—did this to me!”
“I did—“
“YOU!”
“ME.”
Back again to an angered, snarling beast, you growl, “I’ll rip your fucking cock off. I’m fucking you up so fucking bad when we get home, you can never FUCKIN’ do this fucking shit to me again. Balls in the fucking blender.”
“Balls in the blender,” he repeats with absolute conviction, not an ounce of protest in him.
“The FUCkING blender—you hear me fucker?”
“The fucking blender, for sure baby, anything you want right after this.”
“Ugh--oh dfuck Joel its coming!”
“Yeah?” He asks, and its the first time he hears his own voice waver. Holy fuck this is it. This is the moment for the last 9 months its actually here—
“Just another contraction,” the doctor confirms casually.
FUCK DOC HOW LONG DOES THIS TAKE I can’t feel my skull!
“CUNT SUCKER!” You scream, holding Joel’s head hostage as you chant through your breathing pants.
“Any where’s my MOTHERFUCKING epidural!”
“It’s coming! It’s coming!” Joel nods to his now best friend nurse, who’s also nodding dramatically to keep you distracted from the epidural that is absolutely not on its way.
“Miller,” you growl, shoving his nose right against yours. You stare into his very soul, like Death herself ripping his life choices out of his body and spilling them under your eyes. “I think that Bitch is lying to me. There’s no fucking epidural coming, is there.”
“There is, baby, she said it herself, I checked…”
“Are you fucking lying to me Miller?”
“Never baby, we’d never lie to you, right?” He gestures to the nurse again, who nods diligently again. “See baby, no lying, we’d never lie.”
He watches your jaw drop, voice disappear as another roar is ripped from your chest..
“I can’t do this.”
“You can, you can and will. I’ll give you anything you want, right after you do this.”
“I want you fucking DEAD.”
“Sure thing. Want a divorce too?”
“I’m CONSIDERING IT,” you bark a baritone lower like the devil. “FuuuUUUCCCKKKK!!!!!”
“I’ll get the papers printed right up. Favorite pen signed an’ all. But only after you have this baby tonight—“
The doctor checks the monitor again just as you let out a piercing scream.
“Ma’am it’s time to push.”
“YOU PUSH!” You shout, waving your arm at him but unable to put a curse to the end of it. Your pains are coming through quicker, no longer waves but an unyielding rumbling as the baby kicks and punches and squirms and—
Joel is by your side, taking your hand in his. He’s prepped this speech in his head a million times, every night, every time he felt that baby kick or watched you struggle to tie your shoes, every single second, he’s perfected it:
“It’s here. Its happening. You’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do this together, you and me, right now—“
“Nope.”
“We—what?”
Your voice is calm and face plain. “Changed my mind. Not having this baby.”
“Yes you for fucking sure are.”
“Nope no. I’m returning it. Got the receipt.”
“There—there IS NO RECEIPT.”
“Yes—I got it—90 day warranty—“ your face tightens, clenching out the last word as if you’re mentally willing this baby to not pop out right now. But by god this baby is not taking your bullshit any longer.
“We are way past the 90 day warranty, honey, you’re having this baby, TODAY, Right NOW!”
“Nope, nope I’m gonna suck it back in!”
It seems all ability to ‘suck it back in’ has failed, as the nurse shouts clearly “I see a head!”
Your voice breaks in the most heart wrenching “I CAN’T—“ you sob, terror in your voice.
You scream again, and it’s the worst thing Joel’s ever heard. He feels like a kid again, for the first time in a long while, when his parents fought, and the sounds of their voices carried upstairs to his and Tommy’s bedroom. He wanted to run, hide in the closet, cover his ears, cradling himself and rock back and forth, shut his eyes and his mind out, drain everything away. Instead, he held Tommy, he watched Tommy, he calmed Tommy. He bared the brunt of it, and the fear, he learned to control it.
The control is gone. He’s fearing again. And it’s not his parents having an argument over watermelon seeds, but his wife experiencing the most unimaginable pain right now, and it’s because of him, it really is, just like you said. Worse than nails on a chalkboard, glass in his eyes, fire on his feet. He’s so scared, everything he had tried to train for, for you, for this moment, is collapsing before him, and he’s not gonna make it—
Every fiber in his body grips your hand more tightly than possible. “You can,” he says, sturdy yet trembling. He’s scared.
He’s always known what to do, what comes next, how to make your pain and sadness and tears go away. He’s perfected it, knowing what to get you or what to say to make it all better, but now? He doesn’t know what comes next. Doesn’t know how to make it stop, help you through it, take your worries and griefs—you’re on your own and he’s just next to you, and its not enough, and he can’t help, and he doesn’t know what to do—He doesn’t know what to do-Hedoesntknowwhattodo!
“Hey.”
He feels a gentle hand on his shoulder; the nurse who’s holding all the pieces of his heart and sanity together. She looks at him, focused, locked in from the moment your wailing, miserable self was wheeled in here, and has been doing everything he can’t.
“We’re right there. I need you to ground her,” she says. “Can you do that?”
He nods, tightening his lips. He remembers your hand in his now, remembers where he is, in this moment, and its all the matters.
He’s here. And he wants—needs you to know he’s not going anywhere.
He calls your name. “It’s time, okay baby?” Steady. Reassuring. Level headed. Strong. Rock. Crutch. Love. Everything he’s good at. Everything you know him by. “I need you to push.”
You shake your head again, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenching hard. But he nods, because he’s gonna do the nodding, and the yes’ing, and he’s gonna take everything that’s ever caused you wrong or pain or sadness away because it’s what he does.
It’s what makes him keep going.
“FUCK! MOTHER———MOTHERFUCKER!!!!AHHHHHHHHH!!”
“Keep going!” The nurse encourages. “Dad, you’re doing great, keep getting her to focus—“
“I’M NOT GETTING MY FUCKING EPIDURAL!!!!!!!!!!!!” You sob in finality, the truth seeping into your bones. “YOU FUCKING—MOTHERFUCKING CUNNT SHIT STICK LITTLE BI—“
“For Christ’s sake, SHUT THE FUCK UP!” The nurse howls, and the entire room goes silent, even you. Joel stares at her dumbfounded.
‘“The baby. Is HERE,” she huffs definitively.
“Now fucking—PUSH!”
-
Joel’s heart has stopped.
He doesn’t know where it is, but he knows it’s no longer in his body.
Its not until he hears the first, most beautifully devastating croak of an angelic cry that he’s felt his heartbeat resume again, and its being cradled gently by the nurse as she pulls the tiniest, wrinkliest, most precious thing on this planet from between your legs.
“Congratulations, mom and dad. A healthy, happy baby girl.”
There’s no way this little—thing—this… bean—can be a baby. It’s the size of both his hands together, and so incredibly delicate, my god, weighing almost nothing and yet the sheer weight of who she is has him nearly capsizing at this very moment.
She’s wrapped delicately in cloth, face and nostrils wiped of fluids before landing gracefully in your outstretched arms. And it’s like the cosmos has realigned in harmony.
No amount of sweat, tears, crazy hair and braised skin, torn clothing and achy muscles could possibly deter the absolute love bursting from your chest as you hold the tiny baby in your grasp. “Hi,” you whimper with a big smile, eyes floating in a shiny haze pf exhaustion and happiness, looking down upon her. “Hi baby girl.” you laugh, tears falling freely as you shake your head and hold her closer, as close as possible, reabsorbing her into your bare chest, and you feel it. Her skin on yours. You’ve carried her this entire time, and yet it’s like you’re feeling her for the first time in your life.
Joel curls next to you, his big palm splayed over top her whole body, touching her. And it’s the first time, the first time he’s felt his daughter. He had been separated by the membrane of your belly, anxiously, excitedly waiting all this time to meet her, and now she’s here. She’s here. Neither one of you can believe it.
Your little baby wiggles, cooing noise stuck in her throat as she settles from her cries. she’s so wrinkly, skin still absorbing all that fresh air, working color into those cheeks and hands, fingers and toes. Her eyes are too swollen, not yet ready to say hi to this world. But that’s okay. Because her mom and dad are still going to be right here when she wakes up, the first people who will introduce her to the world around her. Because she is their world.
“Joel,” you whisper softly. He hears you. He’s here. He hasn’t left your side once. You know he’s here, you’re grateful. He’s here. He loves you.
“Joel,” you hum again. “She’s beautiful.”
You tremble against him. Shaken from love and joy, more than your entire achy body can contain as you bring her little head to your lips and press the most fulfilling kiss to her.
Joel cups her little head. He wants to hold her, but he’s gotta wait. Fuck after all this time, he’s gotta wait. And it’s enough. He can handle it because he’s so fucking overwhelmed that she’s finally here.
“She’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen,” he rasps into your hair, kissing you tenderly.
Joel steps outside the room, softly closing the door behind him. He watches from the glass window pane, with you perfectly framed in the center as its only subject. Just the way he’s seen the world every day since he met you.
Only this time, you hold another part of you, and him, in your arms. The two of you, together. Like the only things that will ever matter to him.
And suddenly, Joel lets himself feel it all.
He clutches his mouth with the entirety of his palm, his yelp buzzing in his hoarse throat. He feels his knees give way, tumbling to the ground, one hand holding the wall while the other grips his face to keep the cries at bay. And he cries. He cries harder than he’s ever cried, and they’re wonderful. They hurt like kisses, burn like candy, ache like love.
He wants to go back in there.
Quickly wiping his face clean, he stands up, straightening himself.
“Hey.”
The nurse who had delivered his baby stands next to him.
“She did fantastic. You both did.”
Joel tries to clear his throat, but his face is so obviously still red, swollen and barely holding it together. She doesn’t question nor judge the tough guy facade, yet completely speaks to his soul, telling him everything he didn’t know he needed to hear. “She’s 7 pounds, 2 ounces. Ten fingers and toes. Brown eyes. Hearing is great, so is—“
“Thank you,” he interrupts.
She goes quiet but offers a gentle smile.
As he stares at her, the literal saint that got you and his baby through this, from point A to B, he realizes nothing is coming to his head.
“I’m sorry, I … I don’t even know your name.”
She laughs. “I would not expect you to. You had way more to worry about.”
“Well, I just … really, really wanted to say…. Thank you…”
“Sarah,” she responds.
“Sarah,” he repeats. He repeats it over and over again in his mind, as if its going to stick, and he doesn’t quite know why yet.
“I’ll give you two—three, some time together,” she says, gathering the checkerboard hanging by the wall. “Then I’ll be back to help get her ready to take home, and let your wife sleep some more.”
He nods, looking down then back up, just as she’s patting his shoulder reassuringly and turning away to attend her other duties.
-
When he steps back inside, you look up to him. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he whispers back. Now that the dust has settled, he can finally see just how exhausted you are. The absolute train wreck that has battered your body this last hour really settling in, and it makes his chest sore to see you like that. Your gown pulled halfway down to your ribcage, tousled hair sticking awkwardly to your forehead and back from all the dried sweat. And yet none of it, absolutely nothing, is getting in the way of that smile that hasn’t left your cheeks since the moment you heard her cry.
“She’s sleeping,” you hum, looking back down at your daughter, who’s coddled up in a wrap and little cap.
“You thinking about putting the baby down, getting some sleep too?”
“Never.”
He smirks, looking down at her again.
“You think about any names yet?” You ask, stroking over her little forehead.
The two of you had thought about it. A lot. You didn’t want it to be random, but you didn’t want it to be weird. It had to have meaning, but not so closely related to a family member that you’d always mess them up at thanksgiving. It had to remind you of someone strong, unique, purposeful but distant enough that she could to grow and make it her own.
And this was a girl, after all, so it had to be someone that could put momma AND papa in their place whenever shit got too crazy.
“I’ve got…one.”
-
Joel helps dress the baby from her swaddled blanket into clothes.
“They’re gonna be a little bit big at first—“ you say, giggling as the two of you realize that the smallest clothes in the world are still a little too baggy on your little—so fucking little—girl.
Joel doesn’t waver, helping put her bitty legs through the loose pant legs…
You see him wipe his lips quickly, swallowing a lump to clear his throat.
“Joel, are you crying?”
“No,” he rasps like a whimper. “M’just sweatin’ through my eyes.”
You let out a chuckle, and Joel tries to do the same, but then he looks down at his little angel again, who’s stretching herself out in the new cloth that’s practically a giant coat on her. Joel starts to tremble. “She’s so perfect,” he weeps, and the shine in his eyes are clear as day.
“Oh baby, it’s okay to cry! I’m gonna cry too—“ you bawl, and now the two of you cry over this little girl who’s just trying to figure out why this blanket is stuck to her.
Not a great first impression from mom and dad but she’ll just have to deal with it.
And just like that, the Miller family went from party of two, to family of three.
-
6 weeks later…
The baby monitor crackles to life, and Joel is already tossing the blanket aside before the baby utters her first cry. He’s already up, kissing your forehead with “I’ll get her," almost excitedly through the heavy lull of sleep. You barely get a noise out of your throat, already snoring away into the pillow. He’s exhausted too, but his feet carry him onward with droopy eyes as if on their own.
He’s still not happy about the pink paint color of her bedroom, but that hardly matters right now. Terribly dramatic cries echo from the crib ahead. He scoops his little bean—since that’s what she looks like all curly in her onesie—supporting her head carefully and tucking her into one elbow.
He rocks her squirming, agitated body back and forth in one arm as he shakes the now warmed bottle in his other hand. Joel tries to get her screaming mouth to take the cap, but she shakes her head, avoiding him at all costs to her own detriment.
"Oh you’re such a squiggly girly for daddy. I got ya bubbas right here, quick ya cryin’. You’re gonna wake up mommy."
As if she understands how she wouldn’t want to cause YOU any problems, his baby stops crying and accepts the bottle between her lips. Once she finally has her snacking, she peacefully looks back up to him, studies him.
"There she is. Told ya." He grins, swaying back and forth as she stares back at him with those big beautiful brown eyes. You definitely got one of your wishes: Joel’s eyes. The rest of her, is yours.
He’s hypnotized, so in love with her he didn’t think it was possible to love something as much as you. He already knows he’s gonna get her the dog, the kitty, the pony, the car, credit card, dress, house, anything she points to really; he’s never going to be able to say no to those enchanting eyes.
All of her bitty fingers fist around Joel’s pointer, as if to anchor her, and she doesn't let go as she drinks safely.
She’s only 10 pounds now, but he feels like Atlas, carrying the entire weight of the world all curled up in his arms right now. Ans he'd carry this weight forever if he could, would pump iron and concrete slabs and oceans just to stay in shape and keep his girl in his arms for eternity, never to tire.
“My babygirl,” he whispers with a grin, pursing his lips close to her. “My little baby Sarah.”
- - - -
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#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller x reader#joel dealing with preggo wife#joel miller fanfiction#last of us fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fluff#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#the last of us fluff#the last of us fic#last of us fic#joel miller fluff#joel miller fan fic
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What about milf 6?
Well, apparently I only had to proofread it so...
<<😺😺😺😺😺 | 😺😺😺😺😺😺😺>>
"Hello?"
The voice on the other end is not the one Eddie wants to hear, but he should have expected it. He did call a total stranger, after all.
"Robin, right?"
"Yeah, who is it?"
He feels like he's already fucked up, somehow, but he pushes on.
"Eddie, I'm taking care of Stephanie's cats. I, uh, I think they want to talk to her."
He breathes out in relief when the woman on the other side laughs.
"Yeah, I can hear that. Gimme a second. Steph!" She pulls the phone away from her, but the volume is still a bit too much. "Your boy is calling!"
"He's not my boy!" he thinks is what he hears from even further away before there's a clatter in the receiver, and a way softer "Eddie?"
"Hi." He brings the phone closer to his ear again. "How's your weekend going?"
"Really good, thank you. Robin nearly broke her finger trying to beat me in bowling and I ate way too many steamed dumplings. But I swear they are the best in the state."
"You a big fan of dumplings?" he asks with a chuckle.
"You have no idea, I'll eat any kind. Pierogies, dim sum, samosa... How are you doing with my little idiots, though? I can hear they're being evil again."
"Uh, yeah." Eddie turns to look at the three furry menaces sitting in a perfect line and meowing more off-tune than even Gareth ever could. "Seems like they really want to get into the bedroom."
Steph huffs into his ear.
"They think I'm hiding from them. Let them in and keep an eye out because I'm not getting new drapes again. Lure them out with catnip if they won't leave on their own."
"Okay."
"And, uh, if you see something weird, like, on the bed or something, just throw a blanket over it and pretend it's not there, okay?"
Eddie blinks at the closed door, Robin's distant laughter and the cat's very close cacophony melting his brain.
"Weird how?"
"Shut up, Rob!" Steph hisses to her friend before coming closer to the phone. "Underwear, uh, toys, the likes," she explains, voice slightly pained.
"Gotcha," Eddie gulps at the prospect of running into Stephanie's sex toys.
"I think I put everything away, but I'm not used to having men in my bedroom."
"Uh-huh, yeah, me neither."
Eddie is really tempted to bash the receiver into his skull.
Stephanie clears her throat.
"Hey, could you feed them this evening too? I was—"
"Absolutely," Eddie interrupts her, cringing at his own eagerness. "You just have fun with your friend."
"You sure?"
"Yes. Don't worry about it."
"Thank you so much. I'll pay you when I get back."
"What? No, absolutely not."
No no no no no, don't you dare turn it into a transaction, Stephanie.
"Well, help yourself to the beer, then."
That's better, that's how friends pay for favors. He deflates with relief.
"Or food, the TV, anything you want."
"Thanks," he says, but doubts she's heard him over the commotion on the other end. The sounds are not dissimilar to Jeff's two toddler siblings fighting.
"Well, I'll be back tonight or early morning, so just leave the key under the doormat."
"You don't have a spare?" he frowns.
"Robin has it, in case of emergencies."
That sounds like a weird arrangement but Eddie's not going to question it.
"I could wait for you," he offers, but as soon as it leaves his mouth he realizes how weird it sounds. "I stay up late anyway, you can just drop by my uncle's and I'll hand you the key," he quickly amends.
"The doormat is really enough," she assures him but he doesn't like the idea of leaving anyone's key in an obvious place.
"What? Sorry, I can't hear you over the meowing. I'll see you later."
She huffs, and he hopes it's an amused, fond huff, like his uncle gives him. Then hopes it's not. He doesn't want Steph to respond to him like his uncle does.
"Sure. Later, Eddie."
He finally opens the door to her bedroom, and it's like a switch has been flipped. The noise immediately ceases, and the cats rush inside.
"You guys are insane," he mutters, following them. He turns the light on and looks curiously around, tamping down any sense of guilt.
He spots a white bra thrown over the end of the bed and pulls the blanket over it so he can pretend it's not there. Everything smells like Steph and he has this millisecond urge to plop face-first into her bedding and just inhale her.
When they don't find their owner where she should be, the cats retreat without the need for a bribe. Eddie closes the door behind them and his body deflates with a soft sigh.
When he's back in the evening though, he makes a grave mistake.
He lets himself indulge a little, grabs a beer from the fridge, and peruses Stephanie's movie collections. It's mostly romantic comedies, and, surprisingly, the Star Wars movies. He picks the first one and plucks it into the VHS.
The couch sinks under his butt and he sighs in contentment as the opening credits appear on the screen. He could stay here, binge the trilogy, and welcome Steph home.
Open her a beer and massage her feet and kiss her hello. Like a loving husband.
Eddie sighs at his own thoughts, falling deeper into the cushions. He met Steph two days ago and meanwhile, there's a girl back in Indy he's been idly flirting with. And that cute guy from Battle of the Bands.
But they fall apart in the face of Stephanie's beauty, of her luscious hair and disarming smile. Eddie slides down a little bit further. Arwen decides it's an invitation to sit on his lap and he welcomes the distraction, petting her mindlessly.
Sometime later, he considers getting another beer, but he's trapped under the black cat. He nudges her gently, but all he gets is a warning side eyes so he raises his hands in defeat.
"Okay, I'm not moving." He admits his loss and focuses back on the movie.
ko-fi
#crazy cat lady stevie#steddie#transfem steve harrington#stevie harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#mine#steve harrington#steddie fanfiction#stevierything#older steve harrington#steddie fluff
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Helloo ☆ I hope youre having a nice day 💫🌸 I was wondering if I can request Blade, Ratio and Sunday with reader who appears stoic/reserved and seems disconnected but is actually soft and cries/smiles easily around them 🥹 thank you!!
- 🪻
"𝒜 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝓎 𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓁𝑒"
💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Blade, Veritas Ratio & Sunday x Gender-neutral reader
💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader who appears reserved and disconnected but is actually soft around him
💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff & Spelling Mistakes
💫𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒 "𝑀𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝓇𝑜𝓃 𝐻𝓊𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈"
You are both soulmates from the outside, both reserved and disconnected….except you aren't, and he is, the complete opposites of each other. He likes it better when you’re alone anyway, you’re more expressive that way and only he enjoys that.
He likes that reassuring smile on your face the morning after you fixed up his wounds, asking him if he’s alright and if he’s feeling any pain but he can’t think about that right now, forget the pain for now.
He can’t help but get a little clingy—though his face just screams he’s going to murder someone, even if his body is sore he wants to see your face close-up, maybe even steal that smile off of your face.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Be careful, blade,”
Him Showing up late last night and injured wasn’t exactly in the cards for you there you were, and now you’re like his personal nurse, taking care of him in the morning. His chest and arms were all cleaned and bandaged to the best of your ability, all while he groaned at the sharp pain his body was in.
“Open up, it might taste a bit weird.” You smiled, trying to make him feel better as you spoon-fed him a bitter medicine, even the colour looked like complete muck, which just made him frown at the taste of it, injuries may not be a big deal to him but nothing is killing his tastebuds.
“Disgusting.”
“Please bear with it,”
He won’t bear with it, not in the slightest, instead, he’ll be selfish and want something more to clear his throat, getting rid of that bitter, disgusting taste, and you’ll be the victim of it. Touch his bandages all you want but he’s not going to let you leave, he’ll grab your hand and drag you down on top of him.
“Is something wrong?”
He’s a silent man, rather than doing something useful with his mouth instead of saying unnecessary things that you already knew, shoving his mouth on yours was more important, you could taste the bitter medicine in your throat, the taste getting more apparent the more he doesn’t want to let go of you.
“It’s better to bear with now.”
💫𝒱𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓈 𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜 "𝑀𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐼𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈𝒾𝒶 𝒢𝓊𝒾𝓁𝒹"
You may be the only answer to his problems, he feels exhausted by his students, and after a long break they have forgotten everything he’s been teaching, and the vein on his forehead might explode.
His anger gets bad to the point he can’t help but rant to you about his terrible day of reviewing with his class.
He may calm down a little when you smile and laugh a little about his complaints, it’s not your fault the way he talks.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“I wish to bash my skull on the table, these students will be the death of me.”
He's been ranting for a while now…and the whole time—going unnoticed by him since he’s very into his anger—you just wanted to laugh so badly, hearing his analogies with his complaints were truly testing you.
“Idiots, they incurable, truly I’ve failed as a teacher,” his monologue was cut short when you started laughing—it was like a jolt of realization, seeing you laugh at him like that yet he wasn’t very pleased.
“Seems like you’re enjoying this.” He stares back at you blankly as you calm down from your laughter. “I’m not but Veritas, if you keep stressing out so much, you might just grow gray hair already,” you smile, your hand gently creasing his hair to express your point more.
“I don’t want you to get wrinkles in the next few years.” you smile, it was a very gentle and natural one, not forced in the slightest which just made his heart skip a beat, your smile always made the tips of his ears red when you both alone with each, it might’ve also made him go soft as well.
“Any expression can contribute to wrinkles, even you’ll get some,”
In a low whisper, all under his breath so it wouldn’t reach your ears. “Yet even with wrinkles, you would look even more charming.”
Seeing this side of you makes him grateful of what he gets to see.
💫𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒪𝒶𝓀 𝐹𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎"
He’s gotten many personal questions about you from many people outside of your relationship. It's insulting if he's being truthful, and they just don’t know when to stop prying when they need to. Those backhanded comments don’t go unnoticed by him, he’s not some idiot.
But it’s not the bad, words are just words unless the press gets wild and tries to do something then it’s something you shouldn’t worry about, not while he gets to see a different side of you that no one else gets the privilege to see.
Seeing you come with a pretty smile spread upon those lips, while you convince him to take a break and relax from all the papers he’s been doing. He might just do it since you’re the one asking (and he can’t resist that smile)
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Sunday, you should take a break, or else your hands might cramp up from working so hard.”
A gentle smile plastered on those lips while you had his hand intertwined with your own, pressing it against your chest, almost as if you were giving him your blessing—it makes him feel as if he’s a teenager with a crush—gaze turning into a gentle one.
“I must’ve lost track of time, I didn’t mean to worry you, yet there still are many papers to do.” He sighs, before gently pulling his hand away—to not hurt your feelings—yet you grab onto his hand again—not wanting him to start back his work.
“Please take a break Sunday, I’ll only let you work if you take a break right now.” You conveyed, his hand can’t help but stare at both of your hands intertwined before taking a fresh breath of air at your intervention.
“If it makes you happy, then I’ll take a break,” A weary smile on his lips when your eyes light up at his agreement with your lips going back to that smile
“Yet I would like for you to stay with me.”
he loves the look of it, why don’t you keep it that way on his whole break? It’ll even motivate him to finish his work faster.
“If it helps you.”
if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!
#✧*:・゚✧:・ Yurinna's Writing :・゚✧*:・゚✧#honkai blade x you#blade x reader#blade x you#sunday hsr#sunday x reader#sunday x you#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail x reader#star rail#star rail x reader#hsr x you#hsr x reader#hsr dr ratio#dr ratio#dr ratio x reader#honkai dr ratio#veritas x reader
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Reverse Psychology (Reigen Arataka x GN!Reader, 18+)
Rating: Explicit (Minors do NOT interact). Word Count: ~2400. Tags/Warnings: No use of Reader pronouns. Negging. Office Sex. Pining. Service Submission. Confessions. Doggy-style. Creampie. (and it isn't a vasiktomis work without) Premature Ejaculation. Consensual Non-Consent. Read it on Ao3 Here!
“I’d had my suspicions, but I didn’t — ah — realise you were this into me.”
He’s such a loser, you think, gasping as he gracelessly gropes and grabs at your waist, your hips, your thighs. He’s such a scumbag. You want to bash his skull in. He’s adorable.
You won’t lie; you know he’s overestimating your infatuation with him. You’re sure he doesn’t actually believe what he’s saying — it’d just be mighty convenient for him if you believed it. Even when he’s got you pinned to the wall, body flush against yours, panting into your neck while he tries to recover from getting too lost in feverish kisses, he can’t drop a con when the opportunity presents itself.
Lucky for you, you know him too well to feel hurt over it, let alone fall for it. It’s always been like this between the two of you; Reigen, in all his arrogance, negging the shit out of you for as long as you’ve known him. Baiting you into seeking his approval, his attraction, when all he does behind your back is stare. You’d been wise to it from week one, but you hadn’t realised how bad he had it until you’d paid him to house-sit while you were on vacation with friends last year. When you’d come home to respectfully watered houseplants and a hamper full of underwear that weren’t crusted with cum and shamefully shoved to the bottom of the basket when you’d left it.
You’ve known as long as he has that he’s wanted you, but its just too fun, watching him make a fool of himself while he’s trying to bait you into throwing yourself at him.
It’s the little things that beckon your attention, and he probably hates that. The sincerity and care that creep out of the cracks when his apprentices arrive in a less than stellar mood. The underlying consideration he puts into not giving a shit about you. He’d never buy you dinner, no fucking way, but he sure has a running list of all your favourite foods specifically so he can have you pressure him into sharing a cold mouthful after an unnecessarily long monologue about fending for yourself.
He broke first. You knew he would. Finally, after all this time gloating about girlfriends that don’t exist and shoving unwarranted dating advice at you, he gave in. At the most boring moment too — not even during a fight or while one of you were inconsolably crying. You’d just gotten too close on your way past when you were leaving the agency for the day, and he just broke.
It must be a blow, after all that work he put into the facade. You’d heard the resigned sound in his throat when he’d rounded on you, hands finding your shoulders, kissing you open-mouthed before you’d even had a chance to kiss back. It just wouldn’t be like him to let that image slide.
He’s bolstering his ego with all this dominance, and you’re happy to let him. If you’re honest, you kind of like it; letting him believe he’s fooling you. He’s taking charge, but the power’s all yours. It’s your decision to call him out whenever you like, and if he wants to spend the first shot he’s had at you lying, it feels only reasonable to make him work for it.
You give him nothing. A blank canvas to project onto and a tongue in his mouth in lieu of something he might be able to hold against you later.
It's perfect. He pulls back, delighted.
“God, I knew it. You don’t even try to hide it.” Reigen mutters, frantically tugging at buttons and fabric to shift his attention to your chest. The kisses he smears on your clavicle, your sternum, over the swell of your tits, are hurried and sloppy, already not quite living up to how cool he’s trying to play this. “I bet you’re already ready for it.”
Bad performer’s trick: rush you through to the sex so you never have to find out he’s terrible at foreplay. Or, maybe he’s concerned he can’t hold his nut long enough.
God, he must be terrified beneath that facade.
You just have to fuck him.
You reach down, fumbling with his belt, and he gasps, at least before he squashes the sound into an elated little laugh. “You don’t have to go so fast.”
And there’s the gaslighting.
You don’t slow, but he’s parted from you enough to give you the space to do what you need to do, unbuckling and unbuttoning and unzipping, all while keeping your eyes on his. You watch his expression cloud with something little less controlled. More sincere. Boyish. Then, you take your hands away, and his throat bobs. Nervous. He’s sweet, under it all. And so, so scared of showing it.
It’s a shame.
Maybe if you do this a few more times you could coax it out of him.
“You’re not gonna make me beg, are you Arataka?” You purr, watching a bead of sweat form and slip on his brow in the time it takes for you to be forward enough to call him by his first name. “After keeping me waiting this long?”
“H-how long?” Reigen chokes, barely audible. Then, he clears his throat. A second try, peppered with a cocky little smile. “How long.” He dips his face back into the crook of your neck, resuming his assault, picking a wise time to hide his face.
Your hand slips down the front of his pants, palming him through the fabric of his underwear, and his whole body jolts. “You tell me.”
It’s like he can’t get close enough, anchoring himself to you. He fumbles to reach you the same way, but the position is already awkward standing this close. Momentarily, he’s at your mercy. “I don’t know. A little above average? I’m not the kind of insecure guy who needs to brag about that kind of thing.”
He’s so full of shit.
You guide his cock out of his underwear. Nothing to be very impressed by. Below average, if you’re honest. Not particularly girthy, either, but there’s a pleasant upward bend you’re sure you could have fun with. A slick pearl of pre-cum forms on the slit when your thumb traces up his already tugging foreskin. He was ready to go before you even started touching him.
Who are you to deny yourself the enjoyment of watching him embarrass himself?
You take his hand, and he watches, transfixed as you spit into his palm before turning yourself to face the wall.
“That’s-...really gross. You should probably ask people before you do that sort of thing.” There’s a shudder in his voice as he chides you. A slick sound and a hollow inhale as he works your saliva over his cock. You ignore him. The quaver in his breath gives his excitement away, and you help shove down your pants just enough to grant him access.
Reigen struggles, of course he struggles to line himself up at first. He takes a moment to tilt his hips the right way, to tug at yours. When he sinks into you, it’s all the way, fingers bunching your shirt to push just a little further. Just to make a point of it.
He pauses like that, holding his breath, one hand cupped over his mouth as he cranes over your shoulder. Savouring the feeling as much as you are, you assume — at least before you feel his cock throb inside you, and his whole body goes stiff. A choked gasp almost makes it past Reigen’s palm, diaphragm quaking against your back.
He’s absolutely coming, and if you weren’t too proud you’d admit, the angle of his acceptable cock throbbing against one particular bundle of nerves almost has you dizzy yourself. Utter fluke. It has to be.
Reigen’s body slackens a little. The orgasm passes. In your periphery, just over your shoulder, he looks downright horrified.
“Did you just-“
“What? No.”
The mask is back on in an instant. Reigen’s hand joins the other at your hips. He pulls out halfway. Sinks back in. The slide is thick. Gathering around your entrance, smearing the crux of your thighs. God, even his balls are wet against your ass. Just how much did he nut?
It’s -…kind of hot.
“Are you used to your partners not lasting?” He asks. You look down, tempted to see if he’s managed to make a mess of your underwear, and the bastard’s fingers snap to your jaw, angling your face back up for a kiss. He’s desperate for you not to know. Fine. You’ll play along. “Eyes up.” He breathes against your lips, punctuating with a thrust before he settles into a rhythm in you. It’s adorable, the dominant act. You can’t wait to smush him like a bug. “I asked you a question.”
“Arataka.” You attempt, shocked to find yourself choking on the word as he keeps going, wise enough to know not to stray once he’s found a spot that you respond well to. “Fuck, I-“
“It’s okay, I know.”
Something awful and delicious shakes through you. That shouldn’t have had such an effect on you as it does. What’s this guy’s deal?
He doesn’t know. He doesn’t have a damn clue. But he really goes the extra mile to convince you otherwise.
“You should — touch yourself.” Reigen grunts into your hair. “I don’t plan on finishing until you do.”
You wonder if that’s Reigen-talk for ’oh fuck I’m gonna blow again’. You wonder if you should take your time, just so you can find out.
Oh, but why would you ruin his good time? It doesn’t help that the idea of coming with him in you is a pretty enough thought that you’re doing what he tells you.
With only one free arm to cushion you against the wall while Reigen ruts into you, you manage to find enough space for the other to see to your own needs.
It’s humiliating, the sound that escapes you when your touch compliments his own. He must feel the same way when his breath hitches in-kind, groaning at the feeling of your own pleasure clenching around his cock.
“Keep talking.” You manage, burying your own face into the back of your hand. He’s too close. He’ll hear how much you’re actually enjoying this. He’ll see it on your face. “Keep talking to me, Arataka.”
“Fuck—“
Oh, of course he liked hearing that.
“I — I can’t —“ His words diminish to a whisper you’re not even sure you were supposed to hear. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do all this to you.”
You can’t, either. And yet, here you are. Raising onto your tippy-toes, rolling your hips back to angle him deeper as if his balls aren’t already swiping you with each thrust. Big mistake, you realise. His cock drags against something that has you shuddering, hurtling toward your own end. There’s no helping it. No helping you. Not when Reigen’s arm coils around your waist, pulling you so close that you can’t chase his movements anymore. The other locks over your chest in a desperate embrace. He’s barely pulling out before he’s ramming back into you now, nearly folded over you at this point. Something drapes against your shoulder, and god help you, you surrender your bracing arm to grab at it, letting your face squish against the wall without anything to cushion it.
Your fingers wrap tight around that stupid tie, keeping his chin hooked over your shoulder. A yelp slips out of him. A new pitch. Your core burns from the awkward posture, from exertion, from the delight of having him come so undone by you despite all his efforts.
It’s —
“I’m close.” You pant. “I’m close — I”m so close—“
His grip on you is suffocating. Fingers wrench at your shirt.
Reigen lets out something akin to a sob. “God, please — I’m so fucking crazy about you. Please, come, please, please—“
It hits you without mercy, tearing through you with a helpless whine. Were it not for being sandwiched right now, your trembling legs would give out beneath you. Instead, you’re held in place by Reigen’s desperate little ruts, unwittingly drawing your orgasm out each time his cock hits that spot again, muscles chasing the motions. Constricting around him, spurring him on.
You’re shaking when it passes, paled thoughts only brought back to coherency by the increasing pitch of Reigen’s breaths. Mouthed words evolve into a barely comprehensible muttering of ’oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit—‘ before he’s finally aware he has the green light.
“Where?” He pants, “Where do you want it? Can I finish inside?”
Is this guy for real?
You can’t even form a response. You’re too busy drooling against the wall, face smearing against the wet spot with every thrust.
Reigen seems to take no news as good news. As if he ever had a choice. The pitch in his breath reaches a crescendo, and with your last rational thought, your last ounce of strength, you yank his tie, hard. His posture curls around yours, clinging to you with a delectable sound. His cock throbs again, and your face squishes into the wall even more as Reigen’s own legs tremble, forcing him to brace his weight forward as he empties himself into you.
For a while, he catches his breath, still holding you to him. You feel his lips ghost over the back of your neck like he’s considering a kiss — but suddenly he finds it too bold a move. He shakily steps back, and all of a sudden he’s folded onto his knees with a tired grunt.
Left without your counterweight, you sink to the floor with him, leaving a snail-trail of saliva in your wake as you slide down the wall and settle down. Weakly, you flip onto your ass, still too dazed to bother with the clean-up just yet.
Across from you, Reigen gingerly feels through his jacket pocket. "Great. My pants are ruined. You wanna go halves at the coin laundry?" The sweat stains in his armpits almost reach his waist, and his business shirt is so damp it's near-translucent. He can’t take his eyes off the cum that seeps out of you, onto the floor.
“That was a lot.” He comments, clearing his throat. He finds that cigarette and tucks the box away without offering you one. “Wouldn’t be surprised if that was like, two loads worth.”
You squint at him. “Man, would you shut the fuck up?”
#reigen arataka#mob psycho 100 fanfic#as usual: if you see a typo no you didn't#reigen arataka x reader#vas fics
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Father's Day
“So, hold on a minute,” Iskall held his hands up, “back up, because I must have missed that. You’re a FATHER?”
“Well, yeah?” Jevin shrugged, scrolling through his comm, “What’s so hard about that to believe?”
Iskall, by way of a reply, simply gestured at Jevin’s person from his head to his slimy feet.
“So? Okay, yeah, I guess it- is a little hard to fathom. I do, uh, have a certain- aura of coolness around me. But yeah, no, I’m a dad. And a damn good one, too. I mean, a slime-dad, which is a little different than a regular dad. But for a slime-dad, I’m top-shelf. Of course.”
“Uh-huh. And how does a slime-dad differ from a regular dad?” Iskall folded his arms.
“I don’t gotta, uh, chase after my kids as much as you guys do. They’re pretty much ready to go once they hit full-size. I do my bit by checking up on them periodically. Anyway, point is, I gotta go. My kids are throwing a father’s day bash, and I can’t be late.”
Iskall rubbed his temples.
“Okay, couple questions. One, father’s day was three months ago. Two, is there a Missus Jevin you’ve got stashed away somewhere? Or a Mister Jevin? Or-“
“…Why would another person be involved?” Jevin asked, tilting his head with a squish of slime, “Like, literally, why? Who needs help to become a parent?”
“…Uh…you know what? No. You want to learn about the parrots and the bats, go talk to Keralis.”
“Sure, whatever. Anyway, to answer your second question, it’s ‘cause if you try to do father’s day on the actual, like, day, renting a big enough hall is stupid expensive and it’s all just kind of dumb. And a hassle. So we host it whenever.”
Jevin glanced up from his comm.
“Wanna come? Meet my kids, I mean.”
Iskall rubbed his forehead.
“Sure, why not. Hit me with it.”
They tapped their comms together, and Jevin clacked his jaw together- the slime equivalent of a smile.
“Okay, so uh…All my kids know you guys as their aunts and uncles. So if they start calling you “auntie Iskall-“
“-Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m used to it.” Iskall nodded, “Should I wear something special?”
Jevin waved a hand.
“Nah, don’t worry about it. You’re fine as you are. Anyway, let’s go. Not good to keep my kids waiting!”
And Jevin tapped a few options on his comm and vanished.
<iJevin has left the game.>
Iskall shrugged, tapped over to his server list, and selected the option for the Hub, with the teleport coordinates visible in the centre.
He tapped it, and vanished.
<Iskall85 has left the game.>
When Iskall opened his eyes again, he was standing outside a colossal building, looking like some kind of conference centre. It was made of smooth quartz, with a fake parking lot full of fake vehicles that had clearly taken some builder a long time to put together.
Jevin was standing there, tapping his sneaker impatiently, the blue slime slosh-slosh-sloshing against the ground.
“Alright, c’mon, let’s get moving.” Jevin huffed, “We’re already a couple minutes late, and my kids worked really hard to put this on.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming…” Iskall muttered, brushing off his pants and following Jevin towards the doors.
Iskall was assuming that Jevin’s family would have set up a few tables in a corner. He was a slime; and the way Jevin was talking, Iskall had assumed a big family. Maybe ten kids? That would be a pretty big family.
Then Jevin and Iskall stepped into the conference hall.
“HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, DAD!”
Several thousand slimes bellowed all at once, a wall of sound so deafening that Iskall could feel his bionic eye nearly shake out of its housing.
He blinked his one eye, darting it around the room in shock. There were hundreds of small tables around which sat an unfathomable number of slimes in all colours of the rainbow. The room was a riot of wild fashion choices, and a deafening rumble of clattering bones and squelching bodies.
“I- I-” Iskall stammered, as he reached up and tightened the nut holding his robotic eye onto his skull’s mounting post.
“HEY EVERYONE!” Jevin shouted back, “THANK YOU!”
“Is that Uncle Iskall?” a deep voice said eagerly, “It’s so nice to meet you!”
“You have…THOUSANDS…of children. Not ten. Not twenty. Not even a hundred. THOUSANDS.” Iskall stammered.
“Yeah. I’m, uh, the father of all slime hybrids. It’s not a big deal, to be honest. Some other slime would’ve absorbed a skeleton and decided to think about itself if I hadn’t.” Jevin shrugged.
“All. Of them. ALL OF THEM.” Iskall clutched his head in his hands.
“Yeah? It’s not that difficult. You just, like, shed some slime on a large enough pile of biomass, it’ll grow into a kid. How is this so confusing for you? That’s probably where humans come from.” Jevin shrugged.
He rubbed his slimy hands together with a hideous squelch, and started traveling through the room, eagerly greeting each and every one of his kids.
Iskall staggered over to the snack table, piled high with compost, cinderblocks, and beer. He popped a bottle, and started chugging it.
#magnetar writes#Jevin Fic#Iskall fic#I've had this thing in my documents for about half a year and I finally polished it up#I hope you enjoy
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Hey I've been wanting to ask you for a while a request I've had. Can I have some headcanons of the mercenary's realizing their feelings for the 10th merc after they brutally bash in a enemy's skull in for trying to kill said merc. And then the 10th merc looks at them with extreme concern while checking up on them. Before turning around and killing another enemy that was about to kill them.
I would love to see the mercenary's reaction to being saved by their crush and having to deal with the horny panic of finding them attractive.
If you dont want to do this that's fine. Thanks again for making really good tf2 x reader content! I love it! Byebye have a good day/night.
The Mercs realizing they have feelings for Y/N after watching them brutally kill an enemy (NSFW)
WARNING: severe amounts of simping
Scout:
- Oh. Oh.. OH. OHH NOOO! OUR SCOUUTTT. HE’S BROKKEEENNN
- You look so dazzling with the blood on your clothes and the rockets whizzing past you. The explosions in the background creating a fine backdrop. Cue the cheesy romantic 40s music as you kill people in slow motion and Scout is in awe.
- You’re confused. He had been standing there even after you had successfully cleared the point. You wave your hand in front of his face and he doesn’t react.
- In his head he’s already having romantic fantasies of frolicking with you on the beach and bashing in people’s heads. The idea of you beating the shit out of him particularly makes him feel a certain way. He has no idea why. Oh god, is this normal? Wait.. Why is he already having thoughts of marrying you and growing old together?
- Immediately goes whining to Spy like a little pussy about you. He’s batshit scared of you but also has the most confusing boner. Good job. You sent him crying after his daddy. You hear a “SPYYYYYYYYYYYeeeEEEE!” as you leave the battlefield. Followed by a groan from said frenchman.
———————————————————————-
Soldier:
“NOW HANG ON PRIVATE THATS NOT EXACTLY— Oh.. Ah..” Soldier hisses through his teeth and puts his fist to his mouth, his helmet falls back a bit from the impact you made of kicking an enemy demoman’s sticky bomb back to him. You can see his expression is incredibly conflicted about this. With mild arousal. Holy shit. Somebody as batshit crazy as him. Who the hell kicks an active explosive?
- Because on one hand, you’re impractical yet affective at what you do. Just like him. But on the other hand that’s HIS THING. NOT YOURS! He’s one to act incredibly erratic on many occasions when strategy is in the back of his head awaiting the stupidly fast yet eons long conveyor belt.
- Becomes incredibly infatuated by you on the spot. Creating a sort of vague idea in his head on what you could be like. Cue very vivid fantasies of you and him strangling a sumo wrestler while naked, claiming france as an American owned country for some reason by sticking the flag into the tip of the Eiffel tower while naked, and having a fine American breakfast on the deck of your cottage.. (while naked.)
- “Is that a pistol in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” You ask him afterwards. “NEGATIVE. THAT’S A ROCKET. I ran out of room.” He lies. You believe him because that sounds like something he’d do.
———————————————————————-
Demoman:
- You destroy a sentry nest he was trying to demolish around a choke point. He’s both offended, and slightly attracted. You’ve destroyed his pride and humbled him. Normally Demoman is the only one who can take down a sentry nest unless Medic has full charge on somebody — among other things.
- He opens his mouth to protest but you silence him with an award winning smile that makes his heart flutter. As you run past him to head over to Medic and regain your strength, he’s scratching his stubble. Trying to comprehend the slurry of feelings. Demoman is an adult and he’s old enough to be fully aware that you can feel multiple emotions at once; that doesn’t make him any less disoriented though.
- “Ay.. finally somebody who’s on my level!” he calls after you. Promising he’ll outrank you next round. His competitive nature demands it. He’s trying so hard to ignore his boner right now. Assuming it to be just from adrenaline.
- Well, you’re tied. You’re both equal amounts on the next scoreboard. He stares at it on the intel computer terminals in disbelief. He immediately downs a shit load of his scrumpy. Holy shit. He has a massive crush on you now. Begins to wonder how drunk he can get before he forgets about this.
———————————————————————-
Engineer:
- You distract him so much he doesn’t even realize the jammed shell in his shotgun at first. You’ve made him lose like half of his life experience in a fraction of a second and he tries to take out the jammed shell and ends up burning himself. “God. DANGIT.”
- inwardly embarrassed and trying to make it seem like all was normal; he slaps the back of the gun so the shell falls out. Continues trying to defend the points… emphasis on tries. You’re his type AND you’re blood thirsty. He can’t help but feel slightly intrigued. The sparks of what would eventually be a crush once he starts talking to you more.
- He can’t bring himself to think filthy thoughts of someone he just met, he wasn’t raised like that. Occasionally the thought crosses his mind and he becomes a little angry with himself. Please stop being sexy in front of somebody who was raised in the bible belt. PLEASE! he would beg you if it didn’t sound so weird out of context.
- Fuck it. Christian shame doesn’t beat nature. He has to jerk off to the thought of you after battles in the shower. You’ve fucked him up.
—————————————————————————
Heavy:
- “Heavy, i’m fully charged. Focus on the soldiers in the front and tell me when to— Was zur Hölle?!” Medic complains, looking away from Heavy’s WAY too apparent hard on.
- Heavy would make a great ice sculpture right now. He’s both sweating and frozen in place as he watches you tear the enemy lines to shreds. He rarely feels this way for anybody at all. Heavy was certain his libido evened out as he got older but you just brought him back to square one. He felt like a horny teenager again.
- He wants to lick the blood off your neck so bad. It’s disgraceful. He feels like a disgusting sewage pipe and suddenly wishes the respawn machine didn’t exist so he could permanently die out here just to forget this even happened.
- Eventually waves his hand for Medic to pocket someone else. Goes over and helps you kick some ass. You indirectly both bond from this and successfully kickstart your connection.
———————————————————————-
Pyro:
- You’re the same as them in their point of view. A ‘misunderstood’ killer (Yeah, okay..) who wanted nothing more than peace of mind while they went about their daily business!
- The enjoy he sees in your eyes as you land a hit is marvelous. Every single swing of your melee felt like some sort of complex ballet. There was birds and neon colors following you wherever you went. You’ve now given them a weird fetish for adept mercenaries they had no idea they even had. They want to meet you RIGHT NOW.
- air blasts a poor demoman off a cliff you were fighting. “Hey. It’s alright. I got this.” You tell them. Pyro just tilts their head. You walk on to cap the cart and Pyro follows closely behind you. “What’s up?” You finally ask him, out of curiosity. Pyro just stares. You begin to recall horror stories that the other mercs told you of Pyro.
- They continue following you around as your own personal bodyguard. Engineer tells you that he does the same to him on occasion. To the extent of protecting his sentries. Apparently Pyro just follows people around like a dog because they have no idea how to communicate their interest.
—————————————————————————
Sniper:
- Watches you a day before a match doing target practice atop a bridge. The targets in question are in the ravine below. The way you so effortlessly hit each target, only missing a few — for some reason caught his attention. He lowered his scope from his eye and preferred the entertainment of you for a moment.
- You get angry after only missing two. Taking your long range and throwing it aggressively into the ravine. Sniper has no clue why you did this, considering you’re the first person in a while who hasn’t fucked up this course right off the bat. For some reason your aggression is getting him hot and bothered. Is this just a weird preference or a sexual thing? Holy shit, he has no idea.
- Sniper brings his legs together to hide his wood. “Eyes both open with a gun like that, mate. Instinctive to close an eye but I guarantee you, if ya just focus on nothing but the target then boom.” He says. Wondering if maybe he was just overthinking and his penis was being insane.
- “As if you shoot with anything else besides a fucking sniper rifle.” You talk back. “I do, actually.” He says, shrugging at your rage. He didn’t feel like sassing back right now. He was tired. “I could show ya if ya want.”
- He bites his lip, applying pressure to the point it’s red. It was both your bad attitude and shooting skills. He loved a partner who was needlessly edgy. This is seriously the type of guy to swoon over the most edgiest of individuals. Eat nails for breakfast and wear a biker vest for god’s sake while you’re at it.
———————————————————————
Medic:
- Uhm.. Medic’s a little weird.
- Not only is he aroused by you in general but the blood on your clothes and in your hair. The way you kill enemies in-and-itself is arousing him. Much like Engineer he tries to focus on his job to no avail. Ends up pocketing you all day and after the other Mercs ask him about it, he claims it’s because they’re all annoying and not doing their jobs correctly again.
- He sits at his desk at night trying to do paperwork. He can’t focus after what he’s seen today. He begins having incredibly fucked up fantasies of eating your organs. Or you climbing into his chest and sleeping in there. Better yet? sex with both your entrails hanging out! knife play! biting! Dear god he’s gross. God, just shut up.
- He puts a hand to his own heart, feeling his heartbeat. For a second he suspected he was getting possessed or something. But no, he’s just incredibly horny. “Archimedes.” Medic said breathlessly. “I do believe i’m moonstruck. Which is unacceptable..” He sort of laughs nervously.
- Coooo. Brrr.
- “Yes, I wholeheartedly agree.” His voice is hoarse. Medic picks up his bonesaw at the end of his table and looks at his own reflection in it. “Every time I love somebody it ends horribly. Best just get what I want and move on.” He says, darkly. What he doesn’t know is that this is the start of his relationship with you. Enticing you to have sex with him — with your consent — it brings you and him to an incredibly intimate level.
————————————————————-
Spy:
- MOTHERFUCKER AINT PLAYIN. he doesn’t waste time. He sees a fellow serial killer and he immediately goes in for the kill. (Pun intended.) But yeah this is Spy we’re talking about here. He’s a manwhore and I thought the canon already established that.
- “That was some fine work out there.” He tells you slowly. His hands behind his back. “Would you care to join me for a second?” He offers his hand. Which you take hesitantly. He takes you to his quarters and attempts to court you. Which works because he’s something straight out of a romance movie with his clever quips.
- “I have a feeling—“ He begins, slowly offering his hand and hovering it above your thigh, placing it down and rubbing you slowly when he didn’t sense any discomfort. “That we will enjoy each other’s company often, my pet.” He looks for your approval. Any sign of it.
- Dude is so fucking slick that you can’t resist him. He’s unbelievably experienced in romance and knows how to charm his way into your pants. It was like you were under a spell by a hypnotic snake. He ends up getting what he wants and doesn’t hold back. His knife is threatening your back and he’s atop you. “Shhh.”
- Sex happens. Aggressive sex. Right off the bat.
#team fortress 2#tf2#demoman x reader#heavy x reader#medic x reader#spy x reader#tf2 x reader#tf2 x you#pyro x reader#sniper x reader
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The wedding scene but its a cowboy/western AU HUZZAH!
I kinda wanted to write what this scene would look like in this AU... So read that below for funzies.
Side note my dad walked in after I finished this and said "wow! Who's the little princess?" so Xie Lian is now a princess, confirmed.
All the beasts, demons, creatures, and even the wind itself had gone quiet as Hua Cheng approached the wedding carriage. He'd waited a few moments after slaughtering every binu that remained, skulking about the carriage which held one person--presumably a bride, but of course, he knew who it really was, why else would he be there? One of the doors--curtain closed over the window--lay ajar, evidently bashed in by some beast which had dismantled the hinges. Though the wind hand no resonance, there was a slight cacophonous creaking from this door laying askew, gently rocking back and fourth in its tired frame. Hua Cheng approached and pushed the door slightly open.
He kept his head bowed, ensuring his hat cast a shadow over his face so that his beloved would not see the hideous monster that lay beneath. He picked up on Xie Lian--dressed in a frilly white and inconvenient wedding gown--shifting, his breath changing at the sight of Hua Cheng's outstretched hand. Hua Cheng could practically hear Xie Lian's anxious thoughts, knowing not to trust the dark figure before him while also deciding to give in, likely under the impression he could save someone. That's always what Xie Lian would do. He'd save someone he'd never know, even if it meant he had to suffer greatly.
But he wouldn't be suffering with Hua Cheng. At least, Hua Cheng hoped he wouldn't.
The light touch of a gloved hand against his own sent chills up Hua Cheng's spine. He kept still, allowing Xie Lian the time to shuffle to the edge of his bench in order to bunglingly step out of the carriage with a dress so large. Hua Cheng didn't even know what to think of the dress. He decided it best not to look at his beloved, lest he act stupid. He kept his patience, assisting Xie Lian out of the carriage.
The hoop-skirt beneath all those petticoats got caught in the door frame and Xie Lian, having no experience in matters like these, immediately fell forward. He gasped and Hua Cheng quickly caught him, holding him respectful and giving him a moment to gather himself. He noticed Xie Lian's eyes had caught the butterfly pattern on Hua Cheng's sleeves. However, the wedding veil likely obscured too much of Xie Lian's vision to see much further than that.
Hua Cheng helped right Xie Lian on his feet, careful to make sure that the white gown didn't touch any of the bloody corpses of wolves surrounding them. He could sense Xie Lian was wary of him, likely planning a way to attack if anything implied Hua Cheng might pull a stunt. So, he was as meticulous with him as possible, showing more gentleness to him than he had to anyone ever before. His pace was slow, so Hua Cheng matched is, nonchalantly leading him away from the wedding carriage, which had been cut free of horses.
As they passed a dense tree line into a carved path, wolves began to scamper in the distance, circling around and beginning to close in. Xie Lian's tender gloved hand clutched Hua Cheng's in anticipation. As one wolf, louder than the others, came particularly close, Xie Lian had actually reached for the gun at Hua Cheng's hip, to his alarm. However, he could help but smile as Xie Lian softened again, having heard that these wolves weren't circling them as predators, but were whimpering and creeping away in fear. The pistol was never drawn.
Then they came across a skull. Hua Cheng acted as if he had not seen it, purposely making an effort to crush it under his step. He could hear Xie Lian's small breath of confusion and mild concern. Xie Lian would be more surprised to hear the pitter patter of rain on the umbrella Hua Cheng had just drawn. However, it wasn't raining. Over the howling of wolves and the cold still air, a smell of blood arose, almost overwhelming to the senses. Hua Cheng remained composed, and Xie Lian relaxed again.
When the blood rain came to a stop, so did the two immortals. They stood beside each other, still hand in hand. Xie Lian side stepped away, lifting his head to get a better look at the man who'd guiding him away from the wedding carriage. It was clear he'd been waiting to do this, slightly lifting his skirt with his free hand to release the cattle-rope--previously hooked around his hoop-skirt--out and in Hua Cheng's direction like a striking rattlesnake.
The cattle-rope was met by an enormous eruption of silver butterflies, twinkling like a thousand stars. Hua Cheng had vanished.
#crimson monsoon#crimson monsoon art tag#tgcf#tgcf fanart#tgcf one shot#tgcf au#tgcf western au#tgcf cowboy au#cowboy au#western au#heaven officials blessing#cowboys#fanart#mxtx#hualian#hua cheng#xie lian#tgcf book 1
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If I can’t have you baby, no one else in this world can. ʅ(◞‿◟)ʃ
I hope everyone likes it! This is part two of my other Toji fic where he was jealoussssss~ I hope u all enjoy :3 (part one linked at da bottom)
Tags: Dacryphillia (brief), Rough sex, Mentions of Murder, Mean Toji, He talks abt marrying you during sex????? (not clickbait)(gone wrong)(gone sexual), Spanking (kinda brief too), JEALOUS TOJI!!!, very light bondage, HES SWEET BUT IN SUBTLE WAYS!!, Degrading, Overstimulation, Thigh Fucking (brief), Doggy Style, Mating Press
I couldve missed some tag sorryyyyyyy, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!
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Toji hadn’t heard from you in a week. A whole week of no contact from you, and he could feel his eye twitch as he knocked on your door.
And he was even more angry when you opened the door with a bratty pout on your face. “What do you want Fushiguro?” You huffed out, frowning at him.
He had to resist the urge to lean forward to smother you entirely. He treats you real nice and you wanna call him by his last name? Like he didn’t have you screaming his first name only a week prior? “Wanna know why you’re ignoring me, baby.” He tries his luck with being sweet with you first, a disingenuous smile on his face.
He quickly regrets the sweet act when you roll your eyes in his face. “Made me block my other guy.” You muttered out, and Toji felt his hand fist up for a moment. “He was a good fuck,” you started off, stupid of you to do in Toji’s opinion “and you made me block him like you’re up here all that often anyways. Can’t keep me satisfied and got rid of the one who could.”
By the end of your sentence, Toji had reached the end of his patience. He leans forward, and his hand grips your shoulder for a moment. “Im gonna go, and I’m gonna bash that guys skull in. And when I’m done you’re gonna be on the bed, where I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own name. Ok?” He was at a borderline whisper, and you felt yourself shuddering at the threat he spoke last time being reiterated.
You throw yourself to hug him when he goes to turn. The idea of some man dying just for getting his dick wet didn’t sit right with you. “Tojiiiii,” You whined out, looking at him as pitifully as you could. “I didnt mean it Toji, I was just trying to get you riled up.” You admitted bashfully (in a poor attempt to earn pity points from a man who doesn’t pity anything), ignoring how hot your face felt when you heard - and felt - his chuckle at the confession.
You’re led into your place, a hand gently cradling your back as you’re led to your room and you can’t help but think that your confession had subdued Toji’s anger, even momentarily.
So imagine your surprise when you find your face smushed into the bed, hands tied behind your back when a soft satin ribbon and your ass in the air. And the first time his hand landed on your ass it was shocking enough to make you jolt forward with a small squeal. The hits that came after still earning groans and grunts of pain from you.
Even if he wouldn’t admit it, he was being soft on you, he always was. But he made a promise that you would forget your own name and he intended to hold true on that.
“Fucking whore” he huffed, another smack landing on your ass “bratty bitch, gotta be put back in your place.” His hands grip your hips and you squirm in anticipation.
His fingers find their way inside you first, working you open with so much precision you felt he was playing you like an instrument. Three fingers deep inside, and god did they hit the perfect spots each time. “You tryna get dick from someone else? I’m all you need baby.” He says, jealous vemon laced in every word.
“Just you Toji, ‘m sorry, didn’t mean it.” You whined, and you hear a cruel laugh as his fingers leave you. “Now I’m Toji? Not Fushiguro?” He questions in a mean tone even as his hands massage your back.
(He said it was to help with prep when he first did it. Your questioning leaving him a bit scrambled before he claimed it made the sex better. You had believed him at first, until you realized it was just a small act of care. You never called him on it, you enjoyed it even.)
“Begging isn’t gonna work on me this time, cute little whore.” Toji says with a mocking coo, pushing his pants down to pump his dick with his own fist a few times. And as he stares at your back, he can’t help but want to break his own promise and just fuck into you. Not that he actually would, but he was tempted.
He slips his dick between your thighs, thrusting lightly and kissing at your neck. “Talking about another guy in front of me, giving me a bitchy ass attitude,” he seems to be recounting his grievances with you, a hand reach to grip your waist when you try to grind down onto the dick between your thighs. “Don’t know who you belong to yet? That it? Maybe I should put a ring on your finger and make you understand.” He groans, listening to your pleads for him to just put it in already.
And when he finally complies it’s like bliss. His hand is gripping your wrists before he unties the ribbon holding them together. Your hands grip the sheets at either side of you, and you sigh happily as he kisses your poor red wrists. You turn your head, kissing him on his cheek.
Toji’s mind seems to blank for a moment before he’s pulling out and flipping you onto your back. And with your legs thrown over his shoulders as your bent almost in half, he fucks you into a mating press so brutal that your mind blanks.
“Gonna make you mine baby, put a ring on your finger. You’re never gonna get away from me.” He grunts and almost growls, watching your eyes roll back with tears streaming down your face. “Gonna keep you locked in, you love saying my last name so much, now you’re gonna share with me.” His thrusts were deep, and hard, and agonizingly perfect that you could help but violently twitch as an earth shattering orgasm runs through you.
He fucks you through it, and you feel an awful sense of deja-vu as you go hurtling toward your next one.
Toji grabs your left hand, and you stare at him in a stupid, fucked dumb look of curiosity and whined when he bit your ring finger hard. And you whined even more when he forced his own left ring finger into your mouth, telling you to bite hard. You comply and watch him fill with a sinful glee. “There you go baby, it’s our wedding rings.” He says with a soft grin, his brutal thrusts being an absolute opposite of the look.
With orgasm three coming quick, you’re almost relieved to feel his rhythm falter and stutter, and you scream into the room filled with sweat and sex as you feel another final brutal slam of his pelvis into yours, and you feel your insides fill up with his cum.
He pulls out, getting up and walking to the bathroom, and you sigh through closed and tired eyes as you feel him wipe you down with a warm damp cloth and few minutes later. A blanket is thrown over you both as he spoons you.
His thumb traces the bitemark he left on your finger, you completely pliant and stupid in his arms. You couldn’t seem to think of an answer when he looked at you with a devilish smile and innocently asked “so, what’s your name?”
*
The next morning, waking up to Toji cuddled up with you and a subtle rumbling snore coming from him had to be the best feeling in the world.
Your legs were jelly, and when Toji woke up and had finally pulled himself up, he brought you water and a small plate of fruits. You watch him get dressed with a pout. “Toji…where are you going so soon?”
He turns and the smile he had was an almost boyish expression. “I told you last night,” You felt your blood freeze for a moment as you stared at Toji, your legs unable to move.
“Im gonna go bash that guys skull in.” He left a small peck on your forehead and a promise that he would he back soon.
God you hope that other guy had a quick death, if nothing else.
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UH….SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG… LOTS OF THOUGHT PUT INTO THIS ONE!!
Requests open :3
#jjk#jjk fanfic#fanfic#jjk smut#toji smut#toji x you#toji x reader#toji fushiguro#smut#requests open
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Kinktober Day One: Seokjin
pairing: roommate!seokjin x f. reader
genre: roommates to lovers, sex work, 18+
summary: Seokjin invites you to watch his stream.
wc: 962
warnings: voyeurism, masturbation, cum eating
kinktober: day one - 📸(voyeurism) 🏆 first time 🍽️ face sitting
date: October 25, 2024
Seokjin turned the camera as he sat in his chair. He smirked, allowing his followers to see the smooth planes of his chest.
You nearly drooled as you watched him. Your hand was between your thighs as he pushed his desk chair back to expose his thick, long cock.
Fuck, you knew better than to watch your roommate get himself off, but you couldn’t help yourself.
TastyCake: $50 stroke yourself, please
Seokjin chuckles as he appeases you. His strokes are slow, and languid as he stares into the camera.
“Is this how you like it, TC? Nice and slow, wishing I was fucking into you?” Seokjin asks as he strokes his cock, biting his bottom lip to bite back a moan.
When Seokjin showed you his costume for his stream, you subscribed to his account. At first, you had been bashful, lurking in the comments as your roommate sat in front of the camera in his Sea Captain costume.
“I have a special guest watching tonight. She loves Halloween, and I know she’s shy about watching me, but it’s a dream come true.”
The chat goes wild as they try to guess who it could be, and you cover your face with your hands in your bedroom. You’re wearing your favorite pajama set, lilac shorts with tiny white skulls, and a black and white border on the hem. The shirt is a tank top with the same pattern and a slight v-neckline.
Seokjin reads the comments spiraling on his chat as he leans back, slowly undoing the first two buttons of his uniform. “You’re all so eager to get me naked!”
His laughter fills his bedroom, and you sigh as you watch him, sending a comment to join the others. Seokjin chuckles, shaking his head. You were surprised he’d let you watch tonight, mostly because you were good friends and roommates. He didn’t keep his occupation secret. He’d told you ahead of time what he did for work, and any time he’d go live you could either go out or wear your headphones.
Hobi_core: $200 take your top off, please!
Seokjin shakes his head as he looks straight into the camera. He undoes another button, exposing more of his beautiful chest.
Money pours in, dinging in the chat as Seokjin undoes all the buttons of his uniform. He keeps it on for a moment, showing off his taut abdomen as he grabs a bottle off his desk. Oil. Slowly, oil drips on the planes of his torso, making him shine in front of the camera.
You bite your lip as you watch attentively, legs pressed together as your body grows hot.
The stream goes on until Seokjin is naked in his seat. He winks, pushing his chair back to show off his long, thick cock.
“Fuck,” you curse as you fall back on your bed with your phone in your hand. You slip one hand under your pajama shorts, rubbing between your legs.
Seokjin smirks after hearing you curse.
“Are you touching yourself for me?” Seokjin asks as he slowly strokes himself. “Go ahead and touch yourself nice and slow for me, baby. Say my name.”
“Fuck, Seokjin,” You moan as you rub your clit. Your body grows hot, as you impatiently strip out of your pajamas.
“Fuck, that’s it. Moan for me. I want to hear you,” Seokjin demands as he fucks into his fist. You cry out, legs trembling as you palm your breast. Your phone lies on its side beside you with Seokjin’s dark eyes staring back at you.
“Imagine my hands on your body. My lips kiss their way down until I get between your legs,” Seokjin groans as the tips come flowing in. He bites back a moan of your name, his body jerking in his chair. He wishes you were with him, riding his cock for all its worth.
AngelJM: $100 cum for us! SweetiePie: $50 he’s gonna cum! Beauty123: $20 TastyCake: $150 cum with me, please!
Seokjin groans, his eyes shut as he strokes himself faster. He opens his eyes to stare at the camera as he resists the urge to moan your name for all his viewers to envy.
“Seokjin!” he hears your scream from your bedroom, and it is that dulcet sound that makes him cum in his hand with a curse and a guttural groan.
Tips come pouring in as his viewers announce their orgasms. Seokjin chuckles as he catches his breath. He waves his hand at the camera, promising to return next week before he logs off.
Seokjin cleans up and puts his boxers back on after a quick trip to the bathroom. He heads to the kitchen for a bottle of water before going to your bedroom.
He knocks, and you let him in.
You’re in a t-shirt you stole from him a while back.
“Catch the stream?” Seokjin asks with a smirk.
“I did,” you nod as you sit on your bed.
“What did you think?” Seokjin asks curiously.
You pat your bed, giggling when he lies beside you. You kiss his cheek, then his jaw before kissing his lips. Seokjin moans as you straddle his hips. Your hand moves between your bodies before you slide two fingers inside you. Your thighs shake for a moment before you bring your wet fingers to Seokjin’s lips.
He greedily sucks them into his mouth, cursing before he kisses you.
“Want to join my stream next time?” Seokjin asks with a mischievous smile.
“Think you could handle me?” You tease as you rock your hips against his.
“Why don’t we find out, babe?” Seokjin rolls the two of you over, you gasp in surprise and giggle when your head meets the pillows.
“You’re that eager, huh?”
“You have no idea,” Seokjin states.
masterlist
#jjungkookislife kinktober#kinktober 2024#kinktober#seokjin smut#seokjin drabble#seokjin xreader#seokjin x reader insert#jin smut
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