#The Sleep Shop chairs

[the-sleep-shop]

Explore Comfy Bedroom Chairs: Perfectly Designed for Your Relaxation Space

Upgrade your bedroom with our curated selection of comfy chairs. From wingback to recliners, The Sleep Shop offers stylish, space-saving solutions to enhance your bedroom's comfort and elegance. Discover durable and ergonomic designs that transform your bedroom into a relaxing retreat. Find your ideal chair today.

[deva-arts]

Teehee human Sera being her normal little self.

[fushitoru]

i don't wanna lose this with you a spiderman gojo fic

pairing ⸺ spiderman!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ an amalgation of misunderstandings and stress lead to a very big fight between you and satoru, but you certainly don't expect the way he wins you back.

warnings ⸺ college au, spiderman!au, angst, hurt/comfort, i warn you reader might infurate you, but she's just a woman in stem :(, tooth rotting fluff bc he's a loser for his gf, not edited sue me

playlist ⸺ quantum rizzics

a/n you'll probably need to read the first installation (nsfw, so mdni) to understand this one :3

general masterlist | spiderman!gojo m. list

you've blocked gojo on all platforms.

you don't really remember what caused the "break up" (you didn't really break up). maybe it's the fact that you've been stressed about grad school admissions, your dorm's floor was covered in his boxers, and he's never been able to visit you pre-3am these days. somehow, the city's criminals are determined to keep your boyfriend away from you, and maybe it was your pms, or maybe it was truly just because satoru is annoying. regardless, it's when you guys have plans that's not an impromptu healing-gojo's-wounds-in-your-dorm-at-3am sesh and you're waiting at the coffee shop that you explode.

because he was supposed to arrive ten minutes ago, and when you move to go to the bathroom, you see him. through the window, his white hair is never not noticeable, and who you see next to him makes you falter.

he's standing next to a girl with blue tinted silver hair that you recognize as mei mei, and she's gripping his upper arm as she smiles while looking at his face, his lips with such fuck me eyes that you could tell they were having some sort of intimate conversation.

and if it were an ideal day, you would know that it's all a misunderstanding, you would know your boyfriend is someone you trust. but, again, the cards were stacked against you, and the only things that go through your mind all make your eyes all glossy. he's late to the one date that you planned because you and him were finally free at the same time and you've been busy because you've been desperately applying for internships because unlike your boyfriend you don't have a plethora of papers and coding experience and you've been getting four hours of sleep on average this week and ugh you've heard a rumor that satoru used to hook up with her and fuck now your tampon is poking at you in the wrong way—

great. now tears are fully streaming down your cheeks. in public.

as you rush to the table where your stuff is your vision is so blurry that you also almost fall flat on your face as you stumble over the legs of chairs and tables. blurting out a ensemble of choked up sorry's and excuse me's you hurriedly gather your laptop and notebooks in your backpack and book it for the exit.

the biting cold stings at your face, but you nevertheless determinedly move in the opposite direction of where satoru and mei mei are situated, praying your boyfriend doesn't recognize you. however, it seems that the heavens are working against you because you hear a yelled "baby?"

you don't look back because you know a new set of tears will leave your eyes, and with it being finals season, you're not very hydrated to being with. but you hear footsteps running towards you and fuck your boyfriend's long ass legs because he quickly catches up to you. then, he grabs your hands, attempting to stop you from running away and face him.

"baby," he breathes, baby blue eyes looking into yours as he moves to kiss your forehead. you stay silent, pinning your gaze to the ground while shivering. "where are you going? aren't we supposed to hang out right now?"

look, you and gojo have a good relationship. but recently, things have gotten...strenuous lately. you guys haven't been communicating, and it might not help that half of your calorie intake was from energy drinks. or perhaps what lead you to say what you said next was driven entirely by the brain eating mold on your unwashed dishes, but dumb excuses aside, you sneer. "shouldn't you be busy doing that with mei mei, instead?"

a small part of you--the part that knows you shouldn't be like this--feels relief that hurt doesn't immediately flash across his eyes, only confusion. but lack of sleep has not only stripped away at your sanity but also your people pleasing and overthinking tendencies, leaving you only as a girl frustrated, even irrationally angry, with her boyfriend. so you only avert your gaze when he dumbfoundedly asks, "what?"

"what do you mean, "what?"" you scoff, wrenching your hand from his grasp. "you were ten minutes late to our meet-up, gojo." it is at your use of his last name, instead of your sweet my love, that the hurt you've been looking for flashes across his eyes. he moves to speak but you cut him off, no longer wishing to be here with him. "if you're so busy talking to bitches you hooked up with before, why did you even bother saying yes to hanging out with me?"

he looks at you in confusion, eyes quickly flitting back and forth across you. then, slowly, as if he's still processing the weight of your accusations, he says, "i don't exactly know what you're referring to, but let's calm down---"

and you see red.

"calm down?" you snap, voice sharp and icy, just like the wind stinging your cheeks. "did you seriously just tell me to calm down? you were late again, gojo, and i find you chatting it up with her?" you practically spit the word, arms crossing as a flimsy defense against both the cold and the ache building in your chest.

satoru blinks, his confusion genuine, but you’re too far gone to care. "wait—mei mei? is this about mei mei? she's not—"

"don’t you dare finish that sentence," you cut him off, your voice rising as your blood boils hotter. "i don't want to hear how she's just a friend, or how it's not what it looks like. i’m so tired of hearing the same bullshit excuses."

"baby, you're jumping to conclusions—"

"and you’re jumping at the chance to look like an idiot in public," you snap, your hands trembling now, either from the cold or your rising fury. "god, what do you even say to her? let me guess, you go around telling girls you're spider-man to get into their pants, huh? bet that works like a charm."

the accusation hits like a slap, and for the first time, satoru looks genuinely stunned, his mouth falling open slightly. "what the hell are you even saying right now?"

"am i wrong?" you let out a bitter laugh, one that echoes in the frosty air. "you’re late to the one date i actually planned, and i see you with her, all cozy, like i’m not even waiting for you. like i don’t even matter."

his eyebrows knit together, frustration mixing with something softer. "you seriously think i’d—"

"i don’t know what to think anymore, satoru!" the words burst out of you, your voice cracking as hot tears well in your eyes. "all i know is that i can’t keep feeling like this. like i’m some afterthought while you’re out doing—whatever it is you do. swinging through the city or flirting with your exes or—" you choke on the words, wiping at your cheeks furiously as the tears spill over. "just forget it. i’m done."

"wait." his voice is quieter now, more desperate as he steps toward you, his hand reaching out. "baby, come on, we can talk about this—"

"no," you say firmly, jerking your hand away before he can grab it. "i’m blocking you. on everything." then, mockingly, "you can figure out how to save the world without me."

his eyes widen, his mouth opening like he’s about to plead or argue, but you don’t wait for him to speak. you turn on your heel and storm away, the cold wind biting at your skin as the lump in your throat grows heavier.

you don’t look back. not when he calls your name, not when you hear his footsteps falter. you just keep walking.

it’s 3 a.m., and you don’t know if you exist.

well, you do, but after how light you feel after you’ve cried a disgusting amount, you just lie down on your floor staring at the ceiling and contemplating the meaning of life. or more specifically, the meaning of your life, which right now feels like it’s revolving around nothing but stress and a breakup you don’t even fully understand.

you wouldn’t be having these problems if you were a childless cat lady.

but alas, you’re just a college student. in the few days where you haven’t seen satoru, you’ve finished all your finals—miraculously, considering the fragile state of your emotional wellbeing—and now you’re finally on break in your dorm. you’re supposed to go back home in two days, but the thought of packing feels like trying to climb a mountain barefoot. you can’t summon the energy to do anything except wallow in your self-pity and selfishness, letting it wrap around you like a weighted blanket that’s somehow comforting and suffocating all at once.

you’d like to say this is rock bottom, but truthfully, it’s worse than that. because rock bottom implies a kind of finality—a place to push off from. this? this feels more like you’re sinking in quicksand, the weight of everything dragging you further down.

in your stress and impulsiveness, you’ve managed to kill your entire grind for internships. deadlines have slipped past while you spent hours doom-scrolling job boards and second-guessing every application. the ambitious, career-focused version of yourself feels like a stranger now, buried under the weight of your own doubts and insecurities. and on top of that, you may have potentially lost the love of your life.

it’s laughable, really, how thoroughly you’ve managed to self-destruct in such a short time. the worst part? you can’t even bring yourself to check your socials. if you unblock him and see there aren’t any messages, you think your heart might shatter completely. which, if you’re being honest, isn’t exactly fair to him. you’re the one who had the meltdown. you’re the one who blocked him on everything. he probably doesn’t even know what he did wrong because you didn’t even communicate anything.

your stomach twists at the thought, guilt mingling with the ever-present ache of missing him. he was supposed to be the one person who made everything feel a little less impossible, and now you’ve pushed him away.

there has got to be a taylor swift song for this.

so you make your way to your spotify account to listen to afterglow, putting in your airpods while somberly looking at the ceiling once again as the lyrics fill your ears. tears well up as soon as the lyrics start

i blew things out of proportion, now you're blue⸻

tears well up before you can stop them, hot and heavy as they trail down your cheeks. god, you’re a mess. and yet, as much as you hate it, you can’t seem to stop the flood of thoughts that follow.

you miss him. you miss the way he made you laugh even when you were on the verge of tears, the way his ridiculous confidence somehow made you feel like everything would work out. you miss how he’d stay up late just to facetime you when you were overwhelmed with schoolwork, how he always seemed to know exactly when you needed him most.

and now? now you’ve gone and ruined it. maybe he’s angry, maybe he’s hurt, or worse—maybe he’s just done with you entirely.

the thought makes your chest ache, your breaths coming in shallow and uneven as the lyrics hit their crescendo.

i need to say, hey, it’s all me, in my head—

then, suddenly the song changes. you frown as you hear early 2010's pop blast through your ears.

i threw a wish in the well, don't ask me i'll never tell⸻

why the fuck is call me maybe playing?

annoyed and rubbing at your eyes, you move the change it back to, now, the sad girl hours playlist spotify curated for your and assume your dead fish position on the floor once again.

however, it seems as if your spotify is genuinely tweaking, like it's realized it’s gotten your attention. when call me maybe starts playing again, you groan out loud and move your phone. but before you have a chance to switch the song again, it seems to switch.

baby by justin bieber.

call me, blondie.

i love you, i'm sorry, gracie abrams.

letstalkaboutit, aminé.

i don't understand but i luv you, seventeen.

please please please, sabrina carpenter.

and then, once more, as if to really drive the point home: call me maybe, carly rae jepsen.

again, it's 3am, and you're stuck in a surreal mix of grief and confusion, staring at your phone as your spotify queue seems to have gained sentience. each song feels like a pleading nudge, an unmistakable pattern forming, and your blood runs cold when you remember one very important fact.

you share a spotify account with satoru.

"carly rae jepsen," you mutter under your breath, a mix of exasperation and fondness bubbling up despite yourself. he's hijacking your queue. right in the middle of your emo songs.

you sit up abruptly, tossing your airpods onto the bed, and hover over the call button on your phone. there’s a split second of hesitation—your pride battling with your longing—before you give in and press it.

the line rings twice before his voice comes through, breathless, like he’s been pacing. "baby?"

the sound of his voice sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, sharp and raw like an open wound. the sound of his voice makes your stomach twist uncomfortably, equal parts relief and guilt. "satoru," you say, barely above a whisper. "why are you messing with our spotify?"

"why am i messing with our spotify?" he echoes, his tone incredulous. "why did you block me on literally everything? what was i supposed to do—send you a letter by carrier pigeon?"

you wince at the edge in his voice, your earlier anger wilting under the weight of his hurt. "i… i don’t know," you admit, the words tumbling out before you can catch them. "i was upset, and i wasn’t thinking straight. i shouldn’t have done that."

"yeah, you shouldn’t have," he says, still sounding a little indignant, though there’s something softer beneath it now. "do you know how many songs i had to go through to make my point? do you know how hard it was to resist the urge to rickroll you instead?" then, there’s a pause on his end, the line suddenly feeling too quiet. then he sighs, his voice softening into something that feels too much like an apology. "i didn’t know what else to do. i hate not talking to you. i hate knowing i made you upset, even if i don’t entirely understand why."

you close your eyes, the lump in your throat returning with a vengeance. the silence stretches between you, thick and unbearable, until you finally break it. "i’m sorry," you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "i shouldn’t have blown up at you like that.” and now that the dam has been broken, it all comes rushing out as you start choking up. “i’ve just been so stressed, and i’ve been missing you and then i saw you with her and then got irrationally angry when i really should’ve trusted you and oh my god i’m like a possessive tradwife husband that doesn’t let you leave the farm i’m sorry and i didn’t even communicate before i blew up at you like that—”

"hey. hey, hey, it’s okay," he says immediately, his tone filled with an earnestness that makes your chest tighten. "i know things have been hard for you. i should’ve been better, too. more present. i hate that you’ve been feeling like this while i’ve been...doing spider-man things." then, he lets out a dramatic sigh, the kind that’s equal parts exasperation and playfulness. "but wasn’t fair,” and you can hear a whine in his voice, “you blocked me and then ghosted me like i’m some kind of random tinder match. do you have any idea how insane i felt when i couldn’t even check to see if you were okay? i thought you hated me."

your breath catches at his words, guilt twisting like a knife in your chest. "i don’t hate you," you say quickly, the words spilling out in a rush. "i could never hate you. i was just… stupid, and emotional, and i didn’t know how to handle everything piling up. i’m so, so sorry, satoru."

there’s a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter, a little more vulnerable. "then why did you say those things? about mei mei, and… and me using the spider-man thing to get into girls’ pants."

you bite your lip, the memory of your harsh words making your throat tighten. "i didn’t mean any of it," you whisper. "i was just lashing out, and i know it wasn’t fair to you. i know you’d never do something like that, and i trust you, satoru. i just… i let my insecurities get the better of me."

"wait," he interrupts, his voice laced with amusement that shouldn’t make your heart ache the way it does. "you actually think i’d use the spider-man thing as a pickup line? that’s...wow. that’s genius. i should write that down."

"satoru!" you exclaim, half-laughing, half-crying, your emotions unraveling all over again. "i’m being serious!"

"i know, i know," he says, but you can hear the smile in his voice, warm and teasing. "and i’m being serious, too. i’d never do that to you. mei mei’s just...she tripped in front of me, i was just helping her up. i didn’t even realize how it must’ve looked, but i’ve never done anything with her. you’re it for me, okay? always."

you sniffle, wiping at your cheeks as your heart swells and aches all at once. "you mean that?"

"of course i do," he says, his voice soft and sincere in a way that makes your breath hitch. "i love you, even when you block me on everything and make me resort to spotify warfare." he sighs again, but this time it’s softer, the warmth in his voice breaking through his remaining irritation. "i’m not mad. i mean, i was mad, but mostly i was just upset. you really hurt my feelings, you know?"

the lump in your throat grows, your guilt threatening to choke you. "i know," you say, your voice cracking. "i’m so sorry, satoru. i’ll make it up to you, i promise."

"oh, you will make it up to me," he says, the teasing edge returning to his tone. "i want a week of boyfriend privileges—no complaining when i steal your fries, no making fun of my movie picks, and you’re buying me snacks for at least three of those days."

a small smile tugs at your lips despite the tears still clinging to your lashes. "deal," you say softly.

there’s a pause on his end, and then his voice comes through the line, quieter but no less sincere. "you really mean it? you’re not still mad at me?"

"i’m not mad," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "i was never really mad at you, satoru. i was mad at everything else, and i took it out on you. but i’m not mad anymore. i just… i miss you."

"i miss you too," he says, and the raw honesty in his voice---the subtle way it chokes up, as if he had been crying and missing you too---makes your chest ache. "so, can i come over? or are you going to make me keep hijacking your playlists to get your attention?"

you laugh softly, the sound tinged with relief. "just come over already, you dummy. and bring snacks. good ones."

"done," he says, his grin audible through the phone. "i’ll be there in twenty. and for the record, you owe me at least a whole playlist dedicated to how amazing i am and you sucking the absolute soul out of my dick---."

"don’t push your luck," you reply, but there’s no heat in your words, only warmth (and you’re absolutely going to suck his soul out of his cock). regardless, for the first time in days, the tightness in your chest starts to ease, replaced by something lighter, something whole.

general masterlist | spiderman!gojo m. list

a/n he's so cute :( i'll keep on writing stuff for them whether it be small fics like this or long ass fics. i think my next one is gonna be freaky if you guys are nice to this one

TAGLIST im really sorry if i missed you if you sent an ask asking to be tagged pls feel free to remind me again im afriad ur ask has drowned in my shitposts and other asks

@chilichopsticks @livelaughloveisagiyoichi @moonchhu @k0z3me @seobluv

@m1gota @celloccino @satxoru @fishrene @myahfig4

@watermelonmuntchers @bxnfire @ayumilk @venussdovess @michelleeveline

@bochichi @applepi25 @6xillaa @almostdifferentstudent @mugamoo

@iv-vee @jaemissso @wil10wthetree @localartisttttt @rirk-ke

@backinmyphase @novaisbebita @heiejdhdh @blueemochii @helloalex80

@gojodickbig @kyon-cherri @nikkissecretlibrary @omg-its-rdj @isleqt

@suguruscousin @idkwhatursayinh @yourfavbabigirl

[florencemtrash]

He Feels Safe With You — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel's sleeping habits begin to worry you, but after a conversation with Cassian, you realize you've misinterpreted the entire situation.

Warnings: Major fluff. Like tooth-rotting sweetness. Sleepy Az.

Author's note: I should be sleeping because I have work tomorrow but instead I've chosen to write this oneshot and I have no regrets.

It was starting to become a problem now. 

You cocked your head to the side, cradling a cup of tea in your hands and watching Azriel as he continued to sleep soundly in your bed. You had the windows cracked open and the early Autumn breeze swirled indoors with the scent of lavender, bergamot, and the strawberry jam you’d slathered over your toast. You checked the time once again on the glossy marble clock face. The arrow-shaped hour hand clicked ever closer to 11am, the minute hand close to overtaking its competitor. 

10:55am and Azriel was still asleep. 

The sheets clustered loose and low around his waist, mimicking the curling of his shadows up and down the ridges of his spine and across the delicate membrane of his wings. His wings hung loose and relaxed, stretching off the edges of your bed and caressing the floor with a lover’s touch. You blushed at the sight. When you and Azriel had first started courting each other three years ago, you’d thought through the mechanics of housing an Illyrian warrior in your bed — should you buy a new bed frame and mattress? Did you even have space for it in your apartment? The answer had been no to both, and yet Azriel loved when your daytime activities ended here instead of at the townhouse. If he cared about having to walk sideways to avoid the bookshelves in the halls or having to crouch to avoid the overhang above the staircase, he didn’t mention it. 

Three hours ago you’d woken up beneath the gentle weight of his wings, untangled yourself from Azriel’s greedy limbs, and crept down the stairs to your kitchen, bleary eyed but well rested. But that was three hours ago! Since then you’d brushed your teeth, washed your face, and eaten breakfast, and still the Shadowsinger hadn’t stirred. You were beginning to question whether he truly was the Spymaster of the Night Court as you sat in your velvet chair and admired your lover. You traced all the subtle movements of his body as he muddled through dreams you could only wonder at — the creasing of his brow, the slack line of his lips as he breathed, the twitching of his fingertips as he reached for some phantom object. 

The clock struck eleven and you sighed, gathering your plates but leaving Azriel’s pile of toast, butter, and honey alone. You also left the teapot and its mismatched cup, blowing magic over its lid in a silent command to keep its contents hot until Azriel awoke. 

“I’ll be down in the shop,” you whispered to his shadows, trusting that they would relay the message when their master finally decided to grace the daytime with his presence. 

One by one, shadows slipped off Azriel’s skin, curling around your ankles and wrists in a silent plea to stay. You shook them off like one might a needy child, promising you’d only be two floors down. 

The artists’ corner in Velaris was an eclectic array of compact townhouses, each outwardly dressed in their unique, dazzling finery. Your townhouse was squished between a painting studio and a luthier’s. The painting studio’s owner seemed intent on changing the color of the wooden sidings every other day and the drawings scribbled over the windows every other week. Today it was periwinkle blue to match the hydrangeas overflowing from the window boxes. 

You nodded in approval as you flipped the apothecary sign over from “Much apologies, please try another time” to “You’ve caught us! We’re open!” The blue would match your tulip yellow sidings and the clean white accents of the luthier’s. Last week it had been red and that had looked gods-awful. 

You busied yourself in the shop, crushing up lavender and herbs and boiling mugwort in fire-stained glassware in between flurries of customers until the medicinal stench in the air grew thick and strong. You were used to it by now. It smelled clean. Like home. 

You were finishing tying up a bundle of teabags when Cassian came in carrying a sturdy wooden box under one arm like it weighed five pounds instead of fifty. You snapped out the wrinkles of a cloth bag, dropping the teabags and five vials of sleep serum for the nightingale-winged nymph in front of you. 

“Four feathers and three strands of hair, as we bargained for,” you said, sliding the bag across the counter. 

The nymph nodded in approval, extending out a wing and shoving her fingers into the pillowy softness. She tested for loose feathers ready to pull.

“You’re a godsend, Y/n, has anyone ever told you that?” She pulled out three feathers, closed her wing, and started testing the feathers on the other side. “Finnigan’s was asking me for ten. Ten! Can you believe that? If I hadn’t found you in time I’d have been reduced to a plucked chicken.” She was much less precious about her mousey brown hair and yanked out three strands at random. “Oops, you get an extra strand today,” she sang, dropping the feathers and hair into the jars you held out. 

“Well it’s a good thing you found me then, Moricka.” 

“Honestly! I understand he’s got a large studio space he’s renting in the thick of the Palace, and even I will admit the ambiance is rather professional—” 

Cassian raised his brow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his scarred lips as he continued to stand motionless in the doorway. It was true your space was more… homey than Finnigan’s, but your expertise shined in intimate spaces. You liked the control and the familiarity that came from running a smaller business and you wouldn’t give it up for the world. 

“But I do think the success is getting to his head. You both studied under Lady Madja so I don’t see why—” 

You nodded absentmindedly. It was always like this with Moricka. The songbird in her made it difficult for her to stop talking, but at least her voice was pleasant. 

She threw her hands up in the air before finally catching wind of another presence in the room. Cassian waved at her with a wink and an orange blush creeped onto her full cheeks. He tended to have that effect on fae with his towering size and the wild beauty of his chiseled jaw and smattering of scars over his cheeks and brow. 

“Oh… oh dear, I didn’t realize you had another customer. Oh my goodness I’ve been talking your ear off all this time and you’ve been too kind to say anything. You’re a godsend, Y/n. A godsend! I don’t know what I would do without you, although I should really be letting you go now.” She grabbed her things and sidestepped the range of Cassian’s wings, trying and failing now to gawk. “I’ll see you soon enough again I’m sure.” 

“I’ll be here.” You sighed in relief when the doorbell rang behind her petite frame, the inoffensive smile you offered all your customers sliding off your face like oil on water. Cassian chuckled, dropping the box onto the countertop with a dull thud. 

“Long day?” 

You pulled out a stepstool and began rummaging around through the box, pulling out jars of squid ink, bark trimmings, buttons, and one particularly nasty jar containing a large eye suspended in yellow goo. “It’s not even three.” 

“Did I stutter?”

You tapped the glass and the eye swiveled around to look at you, pupil enlarging and constricting with a stutter. “Yes, yes very good,” you muttered your praise and Cassian fought hard not to shiver. He had a stomach for a great many things, but some of the specimens you handled tested his resilience.

“Thank you for bringing all of this. You’ve saved me a great deal of trouble.” 

“Perhaps you could do the same for me and tell me where my brother is? I’ve been looking for him all day.” Cassian leaned forward on the counter, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Are you holding him hostage, Y/n? Are you using your feminine powers to bring the poor male to his knees? I must admit, I didn’t imagine you as the kind capable of kidnapping. Or shadow-napping, shall we say?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m hardly holding him hostage.” You gestured down the hallway past the bookshelves and the cases of empty glassware where the light from the staircase glowed like an iron eye. “He’s upstairs sleeping.” 

Cassian furrowed his brows, stepping around and past you. He kept his wings tucked closer to his shoulder blades, careful not to upset the cramped organization you maintained in your shop. 

He smirked. “Still? Are you sure you didn't work your feminine powers last night?” 

You glanced out the store window. A few fae lingered outside the coffee shop across the street clutching takeaway boxes against their chest as they chatted and sipped their drinks. The street was otherwise empty. For now, you wouldn’t have to deal with any customers. 

You looked back at Cassian. “I actually wanted to ask you about that.”

His brows furrowed. “About feminine powers?” He'd meant that as a joke.

“Gods, Cassian let that go.” You wrung your hands. “I wanted to ask if Azriel was alright? Has he seemed… normal to you?”

“I don’t know, has he?” Cassian lowered his voice, sinking into one of the stools by the clear glass medicine cabinet. “From what I can tell he seems well. Happy.” 

Although happy was an understatement. Ever since you’d stumbled into their lives with Madja’s accolades and your wry humor, Azriel had been a goner. You’d pulled emotions from him as deftly as a spinster with a pile of wool, reduced him to a reverential, lovesick mess, and imbued his existence with a color not even Feyre could mix up. Which made it all the more confusing why you looked so nervous.

“You’ve seen more of him than I have, Y/n.” Cassian said. He braced his elbows against his knees, turning serious. The faint bags under his hazel eyes hinted at sleepless nights spent fussing over Neera. It was their fault really, any daughter of Nesta and Cassian was destined to be restless and particular.

“He just… he’s been sleeping more. Falling into bed early, but waking up late. Sometimes we’ll be reading together or just existing side by side and when I turn to face him, he’s dead asleep on the couch.” 

Cassian’s lips twitched, slowly stretching into a smile. You plucked a hemp bag off one of the wall shelves at random, tossing its contents into a mortar and beginning to grind just so you could have something to do with your hands. 

“At first I brushed it off, but it’s gotten to a point where I’ll be talking to him — mindless things, but regardless — and I’ll catch him dozing off. He’s always very apologetic after but I…” The mortar and pestle clattered to a stop. “I worry that he’s growing bored of me. Or that he’s sick in a way I can’t help.” 

“Y/n.” There was a smile in Cassian’s voice, and indeed when you looked at him, his teeth were glistening in the soft afternoon haze. His eyes shined knowingly, as if the answer were obvious.

You paused. “Yes?”

“He feels safe with you.” 

You blinked once. Twice. 

“Pardon?” 

Cassian tipped back in his seat, knocking his head against the cabinet with a rattle of jars and glass as he laughed. “He’s sleeping so much because he feels safe with you. It’s probably why he prefers to spend time here instead of at the townhouse and why he’s still dead asleep while we’re sitting here gossiping about him. Three years ago you couldn’t even whisper his name in a crowded room without him appearing from the shadows as if summoned.” 

You felt heat rise in your cheeks. “Oh... I see.” 

Cassian was grinning. “Y/n, I promise you he’s not bored of you. Azriel sleeping is a good thing. The gods know he could use more rest. I think he might be the worst of us when it comes to taking care of ourselves.” 

Something about Cassian’s words had a crack splintering in your chest. You knew about his past. You knew of the horrors burned into the ruined skin of his hands and the weight his duties deposited on his shoulders.

And here you’d been worried over him sleeping past noon. 

Shadows slipped down the stairs, pooling around your feet in a neat circle and kissing the exposed skin of your ankles. Azriel followed closely behind, still wearing his rumpled hair and pants and a shirt he’d hastily shoved his neck and arms into. He hadn’t even buttoned up the slits below his wings, opting to let the fabric swing free and loose and expose flashes of skin as he walked. 

He jutted his chin out in acknowledgement of Cassian and then folded himself over your back, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and dropping his face into the crook of your neck where he breathed in the scent of lemon and lavender and medicine. 

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” he said, frowning. There was a slur to his words.

“It’s past three, brother.” 

Azriel snapped his head up in surprise, squinting at the window and the afternoon sunlight streaking in. The pale cobblestones shone like they’d been drenched in honey. 

“What?” 

Cassian rolled his eyes, patting Azriel’s back fondly and mussing up your hair before walking towards the door. He flipped the sign from “You’ve caught us! We’re open!” to “Much apologies, please try another time.” 

“Goodnight, you two!" He called from over his back. "Remember we’re meeting at Rhys’s for dinner tonight.” He turned, bracing his arms against the top of the doorway and leaning forward like he meant to share a secret. “8pm sharp. Don’t be too late or we’ll get the wrong idea about what you two are up to.” He winked, then whistled down the street, letting the door close on its own behind him. 

Azriel sighed, going back to nuzzling his face in your neck. He peppered the sensitive skin there with kisses. 

“Will you be coming back upstairs then?” He murmured hopefully. "Now that you're finished with work?"

You bit your lip and decided rather quickly that the world would not end because you closed a few hours early. 

You led him up the stairs, past the kitchen and living room on the second floor, and then up to the third floor — your bedroom. The window was still open, the hustle and bustle of the city and the smell of coffee from across the street wafting in. Steam no longer poured from the lip of the teapot, so you knew Azriel had had something to drink, and where you’d left toast on his plate this morning lay only crumbs. 

Azriel dropped to his knees, untying your laces and helping you out of your boots. Then he straightened and tugged at the belt loops of your trousers, silently asking for permission before unbuttoning them and sliding them off your legs. Your shirt, then his shirt, and then his trousers joined the pile of crumpled clothing on the floor.

He gently pushed you back onto the bed, falling face first after you with a sigh. This was his favorite position to sleep in — you comfortable on your back and him laying with his hips slotted in between your legs and his head resting over your heart. 

You sank your fingers into his velvety, black hair. His hums of satisfaction flowed through your body, lighting every nerve with a comforting buzz. 

“Azriel?” You asked him, before sleep could finally claim him once more. 

“Hmmm?” 

“Do you feel safe with me?” 

He pressed his face further into the soft flesh of your chest, bringing his arms up and around your waist before allowing his wings to do the same. The thin membranes glowed red as hot coals, blocking out the most offensive rays of light from outside. 

“When I am with you, I forget that I was ever that boy whose hands got burned. When I am with you, the hundreds of years I spent feeling alone and worthless in this world melt away into nothing. When I am with you — when I am in this place that smells and feels so strongly of you — I can imagine a future that is good and pure and perfect.” He sighed deeply, seemingly ignorant to the pounding of your heart and the waves of feeling flooding your system. “So yes, my love — my Y/n — I do feel safe with you.”

“I feel safe with you too,” you murmured. “I love you, Azriel.” 

You kissed the crown of his head, earning one last smile and a slurred, “I love you, Y/n,” before his jaw went slack and the room went silent save for the mixing of your breaths and the stirring of shadows.

[monster-disaster]

[wolf-shifter] Rome

wolf-shifter!Rome x human!Reader Good to know: somnophilia, non-con, breeding, rut Summary: Your best friend can't keep himself away from you anymore.

"Did I wake you up?" Your words are slurred when you break the silence of the quiet flat. The only sound is the traffic from the streets, filtering inside through the closed windows. A few cars pass by every now and again. Their engine rumbles through the air, echoing off the buildings.

Your back is against the wall next to the entrance door as your best friend kneels in front of you, trying to take off your shoes with a slight frown between his brows. His thick fingers can barely handle the delicate clasps.

"It's fine," he hums, pushing the shoes aside. "I told you to call me if you need me."

"Thank you," you reply, tilting your head back when he stands up and towers above you. Your makeup is a bit smudged around your eyes as you blink up at him sleepily. "You are a good friend, Rome. I love you."

The man just smirks at your words, tucking you against his side to lead you into his room. He knows the drill by now. You go out with your co-workers, drink more than you can handle, and call him to take you home. He helps you, of course, while listening to you repeat how much you love him until you fall asleep.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he replies, opening the door of his room and leading you inside until you sit on the edge of his bed. Your posture is relaxed and tired. You don't even move a muscle when you feel him starting to take off your clothes.

"Arms up," he says, and when you do, he pulls up your top until it's on a chair nearby. It smells like your perfume, smoke, and alcohol.

"Do you want a shower?" Rome asks even though he already knows your answer.

"'m tired," you hum, letting your eyes close while you are still in a sitting position.

"Of course," the man chuckles.

While he searches for a shirt you can sleep in, he can't help but let his eyes wander on your almost bare body. Your tits fill the bra into a nice cleavage, and your panties match.

"Hold up your arms for a second, sweetheart," he says quietly, feeling a bit annoyed when the thin fabric hides your body from his dark gaze.

"You can lay down now," he adds, helping you onto his bed and tucking you in. By the time he straightens up, you are already asleep.

Rome has known you since he moved into the city. You met at a coffee shop where you worked after college. He knew you were the one him after a glance and a sniff in the air heavy with the scent of coffee and you. It was love at first sight, except you put him into a friend zone, and Rome never figured out how to get out of it without ruining your friendship. So he stayed in that damn zone, hoping that one day you will confess his love for him or he will grow some balls to tell you the truth. Pathetic really.

After making sure the lock of his entrance door is closed and putting a big glass of water next to you on the nightstand, he climbs onto the bed, trying to focus on anything else but your closeness. You are bundled up in the blanket so much he can barely see the top of your head, and your light snores are muffled by the thick fabric.

His brothers would laugh at him for sure. Their little brother can't get the girl, so he has to wake up next to her with blue balls. How funny. They would never let this go. Idiots. All of them.

He glances at you one last time. He is, too.

Sleep takes him after a while, but his dreams are heavy and troubled. When he wakes up, it's almost morning. The sun is still hiding behind the horizon, but it's there. He turns on his back and groans. His gums ache and burns, his mouth open to lift the pressure off his teeth. Sweat glistens on his heated body. His fingers dig into the mattress under him, feeling his claws wanting to grow out. And his cock. He closes his eyes tightly to keep a pained moan in his chest. It's hard and heavy between his thighs. His erection pulses with each breath he takes, and his underwear is already ruined by the precum soaking the black fabric.

"Fuck," he grunts, sitting up on the edge of the bed. He has a hard time making his tense muscles move. The wooden ground feels cold under him. His skin feels too tight and too itchy.

Rome circles his broad shoulders backward a few times before standing up to get to the kitchen for some water. And maybe he should go out for a run. Yes. Some fresh air would definitely do some good.

The man is almost at the door of his room when you turn on your back on the bed, still sleeping. His eyes rake over your body under the covers. He almost forgot you were there. He was so busy with his wolf wanting to come out he didn't even notice you until now. But now, he can't tear his gaze away from you. You are so peaceful and pretty. Your hair is a mess, and your makeup is smeared around your closed eyes even more than last night.

"Fuck," Rome groans again. You shouldn't be here. Not when his rut is approaching and the wolf in him claws on the inside of his mind to get out.

He should force himself to walk away and call an Uber for you. He should wake you up and make you leave. Or at least, he should force himself out of the room. You shouldn't be here so beautiful and soft while his cock throbs with the need to fill you up.

Images of you pliant and warm in his arms flood his mind. How would you feel under his hands? Under his tongue? Around his...

Rome stares at your chest for long seconds, watching you breathe. You are deep asleep. You always black out when you drink too much.

He steps closer.

His large hands curl into fists.

Another step to the bed.

He shouldn't.

"Fuck."

The change of his body comes naturally and quickly. His skeleton transforms into something more primal, with firm muscles and dark fur all over his skin. He grows taller and stronger. The ache in his body lessens, but his cock between his legs still bobs angrily with each step he takes to the bed to get closer to your sleeping form. His claws grip the blanket, pulling it down from the bed slowly and carefully. He drops it to the ground, keeping his eyes on your bare legs. His t-shirt barely hides your panties, and he can see your nipples harden at the sudden change of temperature.

For a second, his attention wanders up to your face. Your eyes are still closed, and your breath is even. The man climbs up on the bed. The mattress dips under his weight. He hovers above your sleeping form, almost frozen. You can wake up at any minute, and there is no way he can explain the situation without you freaking out.

But it's too little and too late.

Taking a deep breath, his hand moves to his aching cock, his long fingers curling around the thick shaft. A groan escapes his open mouth, his long tongue lick over his upper teeth. His eyes wander down on your body, pausing at your soft tits and hard nipples before falling to your covered mound. His grip tightens on his erection, precum leaking from the dark pink tip. He throbs in his own hand, urging him to do something.

He saw you like this several times since you know each other. You are comfortable showing some skin even though it drives him crazy under the surface. The memories almost make him angry. So many times, he imagined you under him, moaning and crying for him while you were totally unaware of his desires and demons.

Releasing his cock, he reaches out for you. His touch is gentle and warm on your knees, gliding up on the soft flesh of your thigh. When you open your legs, he almost jumps back and out of the bed. Rome snaps his eyes up to your face again. You are still asleep.

It's so wrong on so many levels.

Now, that your legs are open, he can see the slit of your pussy through the thin fabric. Drool drips down from his mouth at the plump sight.

Maybe it's enough, he tries to convince himself. Just jerking off on the view of your cunt is enough until you wake up and go home. You won't know anything about it, and life can go on as usual. It's a lie, and the beast in him knows it.

His hand is on you again, caressing your thigh before sliding up to your panties. It's soft under his touch but does nothing but annoy him. His thumb moves between your legs, feeling the heat of your pussy on his own skin. His heart beats in his throat as he watches. Your clit is under his thumb, drawing small circles on the bud.

Rome doesn't have to wait long to feel your arousal in the air. It's thick and heavy, making him and his cock drool some more.

"Fuck!" He groans. His snout fidgets as he takes deep breaths from your scent. "You smell so good."

He moves closer, slowly, tentatively. He lifts his weight onto his arms at the sides of your body. His eyes are on your face again, watching you sleep while his nose almost bumps against your mound. A low groan rumbles in his chest. You are so close. So delicious. His tongue rolls out of his mouth, licking through your center over the fabric covering it. You are wet. He licks over your slit until your panties are soaked with your juices and his saliva. It sticks to your plump pussy.

"Let's take it down," he hums, hooking his long fingers on the side of your panties to pull it down and reveal your most intimate part. Your cunt glistens under the street lights that filter into his bedroom through the window.

The wolf-shifter's world spins around him once, twice, three times as he leans closer again. His snout rubs against your clit, taking deep breaths of your heavy smell. He lost control over his own body a long time ago.

"So pretty," he murmurs. Saliva drips down onto your wet center as he hovers above you. The sight fills him with satisfaction. You will smell like him. You will be marked by him. "You have such a pretty pussy, sweetheart."

Almost bursting with anticipation, he slides his tongue between your folds, lapping up your juices. When he flicks your clit, you moan into the dark room, making him freeze for long seconds. The sound escaping your mouth is hoarse and oh, so delicious. Your smell gets stronger in the air, but you don't move.

"Just a little bit more," he whispers, almost begging. He slurps on your pussy hurriedly, trying to suffocate himself in your cunt. His tongue finds your entrance, pushing inside your hot channel. He can feel you fluttering around his tongue, sucking him in for more. His whole body trembles as his muscles tense. Every nerve in his body is focused on you. Your smell and taste drive him deeper and deeper to the point he can't back away.

His cock hangs heavy between his thighs, leaking. His balls feel too tight, and his hips start to rock back and forth every now and again to find some friction. The knot at the base of his shaft grows with each second he spends between your thighs, munching on your cunt.

Biting off his own claw, he turns his attention back to your empty hole. His tongue slides into you easily. You are pulsing and fluttering until he adds his finger to stretch you out some more. For a second, you tense up, moaning again before continuing to sleep. He almost laughs. He could fuck you. You wouldn't wake up.

He almost cums when you clench around him. He scoops up your nectar with his tongue, gulping to burn the memory of your taste in his mind. Your breathing gets heavier, and a small, barely noticeable tremble runs through your body as you reach your climax. With his free hand, Rome has to squeeze his cock to stop him from shooting his seed all over you and the bed.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he groans, keeping his fingers in you, feeling your still squeezing walls. "Can you do that again? Could you cum on my cock, hm? Are you ready for it?"

It's madness.

He climbs above you, pushing your legs apart to have enough space for his slim waist between your thighs. His erection rubs against your folds, mixing his pre-cum and your juices together.

"God," he groans. "Fuck! So good, sweetheart. Your cunt is so warm. She wants me, love. She wants my cock inside. You know it, too."

Grabbing his erection, he adjusts the bulbous tip to your entrance before starting to push inside. He growls at the feeling of you enveloping him. You are warm and wet and perfect. His balls jerk and his knot pulses.

"That's it," he groans. "You are doing so good, sweetheart."

"Rome?" Your voice feels like cold water. His name on your lips is thick with sleep and confusion. "What? What are you doing?" Your question ends in a moan when he doesn't stop. He pushes his cock inside you entirely, stretching you out and filling you up.

"Shh, sweetheart," he grunts, panting. "It's okay."

"Rome?" Panic laces your voice. "Rome! Stop!"

"I can't," Rome replies, shaking his head, licking up on the side of your neck. Your palms seem small on his broad chest as you try to push him away while he still rocking back and forth inside you.

"Enough! Rome!"

"Shh," he tries to calm you again. His mind is dizzy with the feeling of you around him. Tight and warm, clenching with every movement you make. Your trashing under him almost breaks his cock off, but damn his whole life if he stops. "It's okay, love. Your pussy wants it."

"What? No! It's wrong!"

"No!" He growls. "It's not! I should have made you mine a long time ago!"

Despite your panic and anger, a moan escapes your lips when he thrusts inside you. Your pussy clenches around his shaft, soaking his erection. Rome reaches every sweet spot in you, driving you higher and higher.

"So good, sweetheart," he coos. His words fan over the side of your neck. "You feel it too, right? My cock stretches your tiny pussy. You squeeze on me so tight, I can barely move."

"Rome!" You moan his name, your fingers dig into the hard muscles of his shoulder. Your legs curl around his waist to keep him close. Pleasure flares through your body even though you know it's wrong.

"And you taste so good, love," he grunst into your neck. Your skin is wet from his drooling. "I ate your pussy while you slept," he admits. "I drank up your juices. You got wet so easily. Your pussy knew it was me."

They shouldn't, but his words fuel you more. Your hips move under him, meeting his thrust as your back arches from the bed.

"Rome! Please! Fuck!"

Seeing you so responsive wakes up something primal inside him. You want him, he thinks, shocked. You want his cock, his warm cum. His mark. He almost shouts with pain when he forces himself to kneel up and leave your warm channel.

"Turn around," he says but doesn't wait for your reaction. Grabbing your hips, he turns you on your stomach, tugging you into a kneeling position. Your ass rubs against his cock while he hovers above you and pushes your head down on the bed.

"Present yourself for me, sweetheart," he groans, rutting against your bottom. "Show me how much you want my cock like a good bitch."

"Rome," you cry his name, screaming when he enters into your pussy again. His hold is firm and hard on your hips as he keeps you in place against his pounding. He fucks your pussy with newfound vigor. Your juices flow down on your thighs, dripping onto the bed.

"Fuck!" Rome groans. "Your pussy is so good to me, sweetheart. She knows what she wants, and it's my cock. She wants me to fill her up and soak her with my seed."

His words clear your mind for a second. Your fingers grip onto the blanket under you. "Wait! Rome! Don't! I don't…!"

"It's okay, love," Rome groans, still fucking you. "You don't have to worry. I will take care of you and our pup. I will fuck your cunt until you are round with my child. I want to see your tits grow with milk and your stomach with our pup. Maybe I will always keep you pregnant and ripe."

Tears run down your cheek from pleasure and fear. Your body and your mind tell different things, and you can do nothing because of the spinning world around you. Your walls flutter around his cock, your stomach tightens into a burning coil.

"Take my knot, love," he demands. "Let me fuck my mate pregnant. Let me have this, love. Just open up your pussy for me, and I will do the rest."

There is no way you can fight against him. His hold on you is too strong and tight, while your limbs feel like jelly. He bullies your cock, filling you up to the brim.

Rome's whole world narrows down on your sweet hole as he forces his knot inside your wet pussy. Every nerve in his body bursts with pleasure when he is inside you fully, and he can't move without tugging and pushing you with the rhythm of his hips pounding your hole.

His growl shakes the walls as he cums inside you. He shoots into your hole several times until, even through the barrier of his knot, some still escapes your pussy.

"Ohgod!" You cry, shaking and jerking. Your eyes roll back into your skull as you reach your climax. You suck Rome for every drop of his cum he can give you. Your pussy aches and burns so deliciously that you can do nothing, but rock back against him for more. His chuckle is hoarse next to your ears when he notices what you are doing.

"It's 'kay, love," he hums, still keeping his weight on his arms. "My rut will keep me going for a while longer before I'm done with you."

"What?" You gasp, breathless. "We are not done?"

"Didn't you hear me?" He hums, pushing inside you more if it's even possible. "I won't stop until you are with my pup."

- Masterlist Meriad Masterlist Patreon

[laswells-ashtray]

Ghost lives next to an old woman. She's a pensioner called Wilma who never had children and her husband passed six years ago.

At first, he had no intention of doing anything but offering his neighbours an awkward but friendly wave and keeping it like that.

Then he comes home one day, lugging around his shopping from Tesco and finds her sitting on her front step. It's baltic outside, a glacial chill running down his spine and twisting around his bones like vines. And this woman is sitting on her front doorstep, housecoat and slippers on with her eyes glued to the entrance of their street.

He's quick to approach her and locate the problem: her lock is broken, she went out for her morning smoke and now she can't get in until her landlord arrives and tries to fix the problem she's been telling him about for months.

He doesn't hesitate to bring her into his house, there's no worry about a stranger occupying his space. He treats it like a mission, get Wilma into his kitchen, make her a cuppa and possibly kill her landlord.

She insists on helping him put away his messages, she isn't prying and trying to get a feel for his home. She's genuinely trying to be helpful because she feels guilty that he had to go out of his way to assist her.

That's the day he decides that Wilma Stewart is his friend because that gives him a reason to help her without her trying to insist on owing him anything.

If something in her house needs to be repaired and he's capable of doing so, he'll mend it. If she needs help with bringing in her shopping or taking out her bins then he'll help when she's there. And eventually, he gives her a spare key, so she can pop in and look over his place while he's away for the job.

If she's baking, she'll leave a plate on his kitchen table. That's how he gains a fondness for Mars Bar traybakes.

When he leaves for any amount of time, he comes back to find a small house plant somewhere in his kitchen. Once he finds a knitted blanket hanging over the back of his couch.

When it's the seventh anniversary of her husband's passing, she invites him in for a drink. She tells him all about her husband Jim. A tender, attentive, gracious man who liked growing tomato plants and crocheting. He tells her about his mum, about Tommy, about Beth and about little Joeseph. His mum and her homemade lentil soup when dad was out, Tommy and their fight over a teal crayon when they were both boys, Beth and the way she brightened up the house with vases of flowers in the colours of a sunset, Joeseph and the way the little bugger peed on him the first time Simon ever tried to change him.

They get a little tipsy and watch Father Ted, he wakes up on his seventy-four-year-old neighbour's couch and ponders what past Simon would think about present Simon's friendship with a pensioner.

One day he invites the other lads over to his place, intent on having a drink with them all and catching up. He lives in a two-bedroom, one of the sergeants could kip in with him, Nik and John could take the other room and the last poor sod could sleep on his couch.

They don't end up making it out for a pint. It's a sunny day and she's a forward woman, Wilma talks them into washing her car under the assurance of baked goods. Then the old bird brings out a camping chair Simon wasn't aware she owned and watches them clean her Mini.

The other men seem to get a kick out of constructive criticism.

"Pretty boy, you missed a bit on the window."

"Oi, stache, get the shirt off."

She wins them over with her switchblade wit and the mismatching mugs she serves them all tea in. Kyle seems particularly fond of the Gromit mug she hands him but Simon's favourite is the cunt mug that uses the handle as the C.

Only when her car is gleaming under the sun's rays does she let them call it quits, herding them inside and tutting disapprovingly when Nikolai pulls his shirt back on.

The array of baked goods that she forces upon them all builds an alliance between the infamous Taskforce 141 and one Wilma Stewart.

By the end of the day, the old-timer has a small army rallied behind her and Simon is almost positive that if her landlord dies within the next four days Nikolai will be responsible for it.

[redeemed-wren]

Thinking about. Stanley Pines. Once summer, not long after Weirdmaggedon. Sitting in his seat, staring at the tv but realising slowly he's not really watching TV, he's listening.

Listening to Soos, taking a tour group around the Shack, his voice confident and happy, eagerly telling tourists all kinds of tall tales. Soos, with his young son strapped to his chest, held close and dear to his heart, always knowing he is loved and wanted by his father.

Listening to Wendy and Melody, laughter turning to deeper conversations in the gift shop as Wendy pours out her latest dating drama and Melody listens sympathetically--not quite a mother, but an older sister figure is all Wendy wants at the moment.

Listening to a distant boom coming from the basement, a cause for some concern that fades quickly as three peals of laughter follow soon after. One deep and familiar, as comforting and close as the sound of a ship's motor and the open sea. One young and high, cracking with adolescent awkwardness. One loud and cackling, a hint of madness never quite leaving it but more settled than it used to be. And Stan figures it's probably time to send someone down to drag Ford, Dipper and McGucket upstairs before they forget what light is and get too nerdy.

Besides it's nearly dinner time, and he's listening to Mabel's steady, unrelenting chatter in the kitchen, punctuated by a few grunts of acknowledgment from Abuelita as they prepare a meal.

And Stan feels a strange, unusual sensation wash over him, something he hasn't felt for over half a lifetime, by a boat on a beach. A sensation of contentment, of security, of peace. And he realises that if he stood up and walked into any one of the rooms in the Shack he would be greeted with smiles and faces lighting up to see him and cheerful cries of his name.

And he looks down at the darned pig sleeping beside his chair and things, with oddly misty eyes, that he spent thirty years trying to find his brother again. And he succeeded--but somehow, he got more than that. He had formed around him, without even realising it, a family.

[elysianightsss]

No because girl you NEEDDDDDD to elaborate on this -> Soulmate AU. Poly!141 x neurodivergent!reader <- I will die happily

Elaboratingggggggg🤭🫠

-

You didn’t think that you’d get this far in life, many reasons spring to mind but the main one is you’re a little different than most people. You can’t cope with certain things and struggle with change. You remember growing up your family would brush off your ‘issues’ and say to just deal with it. How little they understood you.

Moving out was the best decision you ever made, the only change you have ever been happy about. It was necessary and would make your life so much easier on a level only you could understand. You could set up your space the way you like it, the way you need it. And with just you, no one would mess with your stuff just to see you loose it as it was ‘funny’ or move things to suit them better.

This way, you could live in peace.

Task force 141 had just finished a successful mission, camping out in one of the many secret safe houses as they waited for further instructions when they had sent Johnny to the shop for supplies. That’s where he saw you, in a Sainsbury’s supermarket of all places, headphones tight over your ears to block out the world while you tried to decide if the extra two, ninety-nine was worth it or not for the soothing lavender face mask you wanted.

Johnny was quick to subtly snap a picture of you and even go as far as to follow you home before bolting it back to the guys to tell them he’d finally found you. Their last soulmate.

As soon as Johnny showed them the image of you, that was it for them. They had to have you. A burning need coursing through their veins, pumping around their bodies. Nothing would ever be enough until they had you in their arms.

But as said and as they observed themselves, you don’t cope with change.

So they had to situate themselves into your life slowly, one by one.

Johnny and Simon moved in next door to you, and lived there for seven months slowly getting to know you and obviously spying on you. They gradually began to understand you and your cute quirks. They know that you eat the same thing for dinner every night, you use the same plate or bowl and wash it straight after use to make sure it is ready for next time.

You have one set of cutlery, one glass and one mug. Two pillows though you only sleep on one and use the other to hug to sleep. And to top it all off you have one recliner chair and one massive beanbag chair that makes you feel like you’re being hugged tight each time you sit on it. It gives you the deep pressure therapy you desperately need at times.

The guys found your habits strange at first but the more time they spent with you, the more they began to understand you. Understand your need for order, for repetition. And they had experienced first hand what happens when change was forced into your safe space.

Johnny had the bright idea to gift you a set of cutlery a few weeks ago so when he and Simon came round for dinner as they did every Thursday for the past four months, they didn’t have to bring cutlery and plates from their own place, it would already be there.

Simon said it was a bad idea but he couldn’t say no to Johnny, not with how happy he looked while he picked out some pretty baby blue plates and silver cutlery with little mushrooms painted at the end. He boasted to Simon about how much you’d love them while they stood in the queue to pay.

He was wrong.

After dinner was cooked you plated up the food no problem thinking the pretty plates were from their house. Then you opened the kitchen drawer only to hear the clutter and smash of cutlery rubbing together. The sound made a ringing pierce your ears, your hands reaching up to cover them. It was like nails on a chalkboard to you. The sound you heard making you panic beyond measure, your breathing out of control as you slid to your knees.

Johnny’s smile dropped and he sprung into action using the deep pressure therapy you had told him about with your beanbag chair. Simon was quick to removed the extra plates and cutlery from where Johnny had put them and take them back to their place before returning ready to help. He knew he’d need to call John and let him know you had had an episode, but helping you came first.

So you liked constant repetition. If it made you happy, that was absolutely fine with them.

Kyle got himself hired as a barista at your favourite cafe, he learned your usual and practiced at home to make sure every morning when you stopped by on the way to work to drink your coffee and sit with your laptop for twenty minutes, you’d have the perfect drink. He made absolutely sure that it tasted the same every single time. No change.

After a couple of months of smiles and waves here and there he finally got you to open up. Baby steps. A little at a time and now Kyle was taking his twenty minute break at your table while you typed up something for work. You always worked so hard. But he managed to get a few sentences out of you each time and it made his heart sing.

And last but not least, John became your new boss after your last one mysteriously got caught for money laundering. Mr Price was an amazing boss, he didn’t ask for much and was always giving you big opportunities that you’d only ever dreamed of. You had been promoted twice since he became the CEO.

You were now executive editor under him as the chief editor at one of the best publishers in the country. Pirons Classics, number two in the UK and number four in the World. To say the guys were proud that you worked there in the first place was an understatement. Their smart girl.

He called you sweet nicknames and brought you lunch everyday. The same thing, a pesto and cheese sandwich and a snack of your choosing from the vending machines. You don’t remember when it started but you were always too shy to say anything so it became a regular thing.

If you were to sit and think real hard about the situation you would realise how changes had been introduced into your life ever since the four of them appeared. But they were subtle changes and you genuinely couldn’t remember a time when these changes weren’t normal. On top of that, these four men were the only people besides yourself, that you felt comfortable, relaxed and content around.

So for the first time you don’t sit and think, for the first time you just let it happen and you don’t notice the difference.

Johnny and Simon were more involved with you than the other two. They were the closest to you currently with the status of your best friends which Johnny most certainly bragged to the other two about. You had known them for almost a year now and they didn’t exactly hide their romantic relationship but didn’t exactly flaunt it either.

You had found it kinda hot when you saw them kiss and even though it was unusual for you, you luckily managed to keep your mouth shut about it.

You had no idea they had noticed.

[bratbby333]

i will possess your heart – satoru gojo

-this story contains very heavy nsfw content! please read at your own discretion!-

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 content warnings dead dove fic- heavy stalking, violent obsession, manipulation, forced voyeurism, forced exhibition, drugging, mentions of blood, knives, use of restraints, plot twist, extreme dub-con 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 synopsis for as cocky as Satoru is, it’s oddly fitting. in his mind, everything belongs to him, including you. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 word count 8k

Satoru fumbled with a tripod as he positioned his camera onto the stand and proceeded to hit record. He was thorough, making sure his chair was perfectly centered before he sat down, staring at himself in the viewfinder while he fussed with his hair, inhaling deeply. A wide grin cut across his face before dropping back into lackluster neutrality. He looked down at his lap, his fingers ran up and down his denim-clad thighs. He snapped back onto the camera blank-faced before a deranged smile pulled at his cheeks.

Click

January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point. I’m plagued by the shadows, my entire life enshrouded in darkness. I don’t remember what things were like before. Day by day, it’s all the same. I cannot escape it—this anchoring feeling of despair. The emptiness eats away at me. I’m in search of release…of some sort of freedom from this pain. I need to fill my life with meaning, to find purpose in this accursed world…I think I’ll go out for coffee today. People watching brings me so much joy. They seem to live much happier lives than me.

Click

January 16th, 6:38 PM

My daydreams must’ve blended into reality because there was no way I created someone as beautiful as she was outside my imagination. I’m certain of it. She was sitting at the bar of the cafe down the street from my apartment, dressed in business casual—she probably works nearby. How kismet. The coffee was bland, as were most things in my life, but she awoke something in me. I hope I see her again. She somehow managed to clear the cobwebs around my heart. I think my life has finally found purpose. She is my driving force. I wonder what her name is.

Click

January 19th, 6:11 AM

Feeling well-rested today. Four hours of sleep is my new record. I plan to go to the coffee shop again. Back to the place where my eyes were first blessed with the mirage of her…where I first fell in love. I hope she’s there. People are so fun to observe when they don’t think they’re being watched…it’s simple psychology. The Hawthorne Effect. When humans notice they are under observation, they change. So inauthentic. But her? She never notices. She sits so obliviously, allowing me to take her in with ease. So good to me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope to work up the courage to speak to her soon. My heart soars at the mere thought of being in her presence once again. It’s so refreshing to feel something after all this time. I’ve been numb for so long, but she has set my heart on fire. She is everything to me, my sole purpose for existence.

Click

January 19th, 8:27 PM

I saw her again today. She didn’t see me. Just how I like it. She typed away on her computer like normal…she’s a hard worker, it seems. Driven and strong. And here I was thinking such beauty was a thing of legend. It's refreshing to have been proved wrong–that rarely happens. Oh, how I crave her. I know she’d make me feel whole again. She can save me from all this, I can feel it. 

Click

January 23rd, 5:13 AM

Only two hours of sleep tonight. But, for some reason, I feel better than ever… I normally do when I find a reason for living, again. It’s her…it must be because of her. She keeps me going; my muse, my inspiration. She’s worked wonders on me already and she doesn’t even know it, yet. I’m going to the cafe again today, I cannot wait to see her. Maybe today I will finally speak to her.

Click

January 23rd, 9:53 PM

She never showed up today…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe she had other things to do. It’s fine, really. I’m annoyed, honestly. I waited around all day. I’ll keep checking until I see her again. 

Click

January 28th, 7:06 PM

My sweet girl has gone missing. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. This is just ridiculous. The woman I love…is she avoiding me? No, no that cannot be. 

Click

February 2nd, 8:31 AM

I haven’t slept well in days. I’ve been awake for twenty six hours now…my mind feels like it’s filled with static and yet, I feel sharper than ever. I’ve gone to the cafe every day. Still no sign of her. I’m slipping back into my old ways, the darkness is going to return any moment. I’ve begun to hear the laughter in the shadows again. They’re making fun of me, I just know it. I need her…oh, I need her so bad. How could she do this to me? Does she not know how much I suffer when she’s not around? If I don’t see her again soon, I will never recover.

Click

February 5th, 6:21 PM

I finally saw her again today. My heartrate spiked and I nearly leaped from my seat to kiss her, to hold her, sway her side to side in a deep hug. Instead, I slipped a tracker into her purse as I walked by her chair. I must know where she works, where she lives, and what she enjoys in her free time. She slipped away from me so easily…can’t let that happen again. I need to know every little thing about her. She is my one and only after all. It would be ridiculous to love someone so deeply and know nothing about them. She is too beautiful, I cannot let her wander around unsupervised. There are some crazy people out there—you never know what could happen. I can’t lose her. I must keep her safe. I will possess her heart. No one else can have her but me. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru observed her for months, shadowing her all around town. He knew the woman’s routine like the back of his hand, before he ever learned her name. Sunday’s she went grocery shopping, Monday after work was her pilates class, every couple of Thursday’s she was at the nail salon, and Friday’s were seemingly payday–he picked up on her pattern of going out to nice restaurants every other week. Satoru eventually got an upper-level management position at a company that shared the office building with her job–he is incredibly intelligent and overqualified, after all; they would be foolish to not hire him. Now he could really keep an eye on her.

That was when he finally learned her name–the two of them taking the same elevator. She didn’t recognize him as the man who seemingly had the same routine as her–it’s one of the many reasons why Satoru loved her so much: her naivety. She looked into his eyes for the first time that day, her voice was soft and angelic, and the name that fell from her lips sent waves through Satoru’s body, the same name that would now be coupled with his gasping moans every evening as he stroked himself to the thought of her. 

With Satoru’s new job that brought him one step closer to her, he knew he could no longer watch her in the way he used to. His movements had to be more calculated, putting more distance between them than he normally would or hiding behind the deep tint of his car windows. If she saw his face too frequently, she surely would have caught on. Satoru smiled at the possibility of her never catching on…how she’d greet him with a smile and a friendly hug each time they “coincidentally” bumped into one another, giggling about their lives' odd synchronicities. Such a sweet girl. If only she knew.

He stopped into her job, a small gift bag hanging off his slender fingers, desperate to watch her eyes light up with the sweet gesture of an unexpected gift. He asked to see her, only to be informed by the receptionist that she had the day off.

It was no worry, he didn’t let that dull his excitement. “I’m a friend of hers, brought this in to surprise her. Do you mind showing me to her desk, I’ll just leave it there for her when she returns to work,” he said kindly. The lady working the front desk blushed under his piercing gaze and handsome features, nodding shyly and walking him to his lover’s designated area. 

Satoru thanked her, stepping into the cubicle to place his gift by her computer. His eyes glazed over her workspace. It was decorated with trinkets and family photos. He picked one up, his thumb tracing over her face. His pretty girl. That smile could bring about world peace; it definitely quieted the angered voices in his head. He scanned her desk, a moment of envy shooting through him at the thought of her dainty fingers dancing over the keyboard rather than tangling in his hair. He groaned internally, looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was around, before ducking down, rummaging through his beloved’s drawers. Stowed away in the bottom of the unit was a fuzzy, white cardigan. He brought the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply, stifling the filthy moan that nearly echoed through the cubicle. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, took one last look around, and headed toward the exit. 

In the safety of his vehicle, Satoru whipped the clothing out from under his wing, bringing it to his face once more. He undid his belt buckle with haste, shoving his dress slacks halfway down his thighs before his large fist swaddled his cock with the fuzzy white cardigan. He nearly sobbed at the contact, the smell of his car filling with her beautifully floral perfume. He brought the free edge up to his nose, taking another whiff as his hand worked furiously against his shaft. He had never finished so quickly in his life, staggered whimpers and choked moans fell from his parted lips as fat ropes shot up onto his abs and chest. His cheeks were flustered a violent red as he wiped his sticky shame away with her top. After he came, then did his clarity, and Satoru’s body ached with the thought of how good it would feel to finally be sheathed within her sticky walls, rather than her soft clothing. I’ll be with you soon. Soon, my love. 

These feelings were getting unbearable. His overactive brain had him teetering on the edge of insanity. He needed more. His imagination was no longer enough to satiate the hunger that gnawed so deeply in his core, the distanced watching and hopeless longing for the love of his life created jagged rifts in his already damaged psyche. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few deep breaths and the promise he made to himself to take action soon quelled his burning desire. But for how much longer could Satoru repress the demon that clawed through his body?

Satoru surveyed her while she ran to the bank, walked her dog, or took her car to the wash. But his most favorite place to watch her was from the bench just outside her bedroom window, engulfed in darkness. Pretty girl lived on the second floor, her silly little brain assumed she didn’t need curtains. She never saw him, but he always saw her. All of her. Drinking in the way her clothes were delicately removed from her pretty little frame, the way she turned and posed in the mirror–so good to him. How her skin glistened after she got out of the shower, the water droplets running along her body in the same way Satoru wanted to. 

He fell into a state of bliss, feeling spoiled by the show he was getting tonight. The lotion that she worked into her body, the beautiful set of lingerie that she dawned. His eyes buzzed around his sockets, elation flooding through him. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl. But his body went rigid and his jaw locked tight at the appearance of another man behind the love of his life. He sat upright, shoulders stiff and heart pounding in his ears at the thought of his sweet being in danger, he cursed himself for not being more aware of her surroundings on her behalf. But when his darling girl turned to the unknown man with a smile, greeting him with a gentle kiss with the lips that were supposed to be just for Satoru, his heart shattered into a million pieces. 

Oh, no. This just won’t do, my love. You are mine. 

Jealousy coursed through his veins while he looked into her room, rage balled in his fists as he watched a random man have her in the one way Satoru couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He must’ve been new in her life, judging by the way his nervous hands explored every part of her skin. Satoru laughed at this–he knew he could please his woman so much better. But betrayal nipped at the back of his neck; how could she do this to him? Had his loyalty fallen on unappreciative shoulders? No, that couldn’t be. Satoru knew she was better than that, he picked her for a reason, after all. She was just playing hard to get. 

You rejected my advances and desperate pleas, and now you throw your relationship in my face. It’s punishment enough that I can’t have you, but I won't let you let me down so easily.

Feeling at a loss, swallowed whole by his hungered desperation, he did what any rational person would. He moved in next door.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru Gojo was your next-door neighbor. He moved in only a few months after you did. You were elated, chalking it up to a lucky roll of the dice that you had met by chance at your job; he had started working for the company that shared the office park with yours. It really seemed like things were on the come-up for you. He was kind, confidently intuitive, funny, and supportive. Mildly egotistical, but it worked for him. He always invited you over for dinner and movie nights and was a strong, dependable shoulder for you to cry on. You had just moved to the city, feeling utterly lost and absolutely gutted about being so far from your support systems now, and he was your first friend. You felt safe knowing he was just a wall away. 

On a random Sunday, you opened your front door to see all the food you loved sitting at your doorstep–weird, you were just about to leave for the store. You turned your head, seeing Satoru peeking out from his cracked door, grinning at you. 

“Was this you, Satoru? You didn’t have to…this is incredibly thoughtful,” you beamed, stepping over the grocery bags to give him a tight hug. “You’re the best, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” But Satoru did, he knew exactly what you could do for him.

When you needed a ride to work, he jumped in to save you. The two of you worked in the same building after all. It was a crazy coincidence that your new neighbor turned best friend worked just a few floors above you. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? But it worked out perfectly for the two of you. 

There was a month where you were short on rent, and there was Satoru, paying the rest on your behalf. 

You weren’t catching on. Sweet, naive girl. Oh, how he loved you. I need to work harder to get her attention.

Satoru was not a patient man, but for you, he would do anything and everything to get you right where he wanted you, expertly playing the long game. It began with the fated sighting of you sitting in a cafe, and snowballed into something bigger. At first, he only ever observed you, maybe the minor occasion of overstepping, but as time went on, he couldn’t sit idly by. It was time to make his move.

His disruptions in your life started inconspicuously. Leaving for a date? You found your car tires slashed and windows shattered in the parking deck. Now there’s a police investigation. Bummer…gotta cancel the date. Had a guy over? Satoru’s apartment flooded. Weird… that was the second time this month. 

“You gotta talk to the landlord about this, ‘Toru,” you sighed. He had to stay at yours that evening. 

You cried on his shoulder, telling him that some guy stood you up on a date you had been anticipating for weeks. There was an electrical fire in that man’s apartment that night. Must’ve been faulty wiring...or something.

His apartment flooded again. He was back at your door. You welcomed him with open arms, of course. He’s so good to you, the least you could do is help him out, as well. 

Satoru, you’re slipping. That’s too many times in one month. Ease up or she’ll catch on.

Friday night, in a wild happenstance, he bumped into you while you were out with another man, enjoying a nice dinner together. He smiled warmly at the two of you, before politely dismissing himself. His cheery smile dropped into a demented grin once he stepped out of the restaurant as he anonymously called in a bomb threat to the establishment. You were so shaken up at the entire ordeal you practically begged Satoru to stay with you that night. He’d be a fool to turn you down.

Satoru got everything he wanted. You were just a tough nut to crack, is all. No big deal. He loved a challenge. After all, how could you not love him by now?

But nothing was working. You couldn’t catch the hint, even with everything he threw at you. He was always the one there for you, even when you weren’t aware of it. What more could he do to prove that he was the only person you needed? I’m reliable, witty, and loving… how can she not see this? He finally snapped. The last straw? Hearing your pleasure-filled cries while getting fucked by another man, your “boyfriend”. The lewd sounds ricocheted around your room, shooting through the thin walls of your apartment and straight into his listening ears.

Tsk, tsk. Now you’ve done it. Always been such a tease. 

For as cocky as he was, it’s oddly fitting. In his mind, everything belonged to him, including you. And with that, his demented plan was in full effect. He had hoped to spare you, prayed that you would fall in love with him before he lost his composure completely. But your sweet, naive nature had proved to be a difficult wall to break down. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The sound of your front door’s lock disengaging echoed through the empty hallway. Satoru stepped in, inhaling deeply as he shoved your house key into his back pocket. It was far easier to gain access into your home than he had originally anticipated; he was fully prepared to break in, but all he had to do was tell your landlord you went out of town and you forgot to leave a key with him before you left. The manager of your apartment complex knew how close you and Satoru were, so it was an easy lie to tell. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You weren’t out of town, he wasn’t house sitting, and you had no intentions of having company this evening.

Seated at your desk, he opened your laptop and navigated his way to your iMessage settings, ensuring you could only send and receive texts from your laptop. Clicking on the messaging app, he stifled the gag that threatened to escape his throat as he clicked on the thread between you and your boyfriend, his contact name “my love” in your phone. He rolled his eyes, before drafting a quick text: 

-Hey, baby. I have a half-day at work today…dinner and wine at my place tonight? ;)

He grinned at the quickness of your boyfriend’s response.

-I would love that. What time, my love?

Satoru scoffed at the pet name. He doesn’t deserve to call you that. Poor bastard needed to learn his place. Heat rose in his chest, jealousy emanating through his skin as he crafted his response.

-3pm…Can’t wait to see you.

Everything was going according to plan. Satoru glanced at the clock beside him: 11:17 AM. It was time to get set up, he had a big day planned for you, and his first guest would be arriving in a few short hours. 

A knock rang through the apartment as Satoru finished lighting his final candle. He smiled wide, sauntering over to the door. He swung it open, grinning politely at your boyfriend. “...Hey, man��didn’t expect to see you here…” he said warily as Satoru stood to the side and gestured him in, a quizzical look painted on your partner’s face as he stepped through the doorway. The door shut and the lock was reengaged. “Where’s…” but before he could get his question out, his chin was met with Satoru’s right fist.

Satoru made quick work of dragging his body upstairs. He dug through the unconscious man’s pants, pulling out his cellphone. Satoru was disgusted to see that you were his lockscreen. This pitiful man wasn’t worthy enough to be with you. He rolled his eyes, unlocking the man’s phone and sending you a text: 

-Hey, beautiful. Come straight home tonight. I’m making dinner for us. See you when you get off work.

You smiled at the familiar ding of your phone, the notification effectively distracting you from your tedious paperwork. Your heart soared at the message, sighing deeply and shifting your weight around in your office chair. Your hand rubbed at your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks. 

“What is it?” your coworker asked. 

“Oh, nothing. I thought my boyfriend forgot our anniversary cause I hadn’t heard from him all day…but he just texted me saying he’s at my place and is making dinner for us tonight.” A giddy smile couldn’t help but drag across your face. 

Satoru looked at the clock: 3:28 PM. You would be home in an hour or so. Just a few more things had to be done, everything had to be perfect.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Your heart rate spiked as you got closer to your apartment door, keys jingling against your palm as you fumbled with the lock, excitement making your movements a bit clumsier than usual. You entered and kicked off your heels, and as you turned to toss your keys onto the small table in your foyer, you noticed a small card that said “Read Me” placed perfectly in the center of the tray. You were perplexed as your eyes scanned over the note. “Go to the living room” was all it said.

You blushed, a nervous smile pulling at the edge of your lips as you crept to the other room. Your eyes went wide at the sight; deep red roses were placed in the center of the coffee table and every accessible surface around the couch was adorned with beautifully flickering candles. Another note was on the table, your fingers fumbled with the edge of the card as you opened it: “Have a seat, take a sip, and press play.” You settled on the couch, noticing a glass of alluring red wine to the right of the roses. You took a few deep, fulfilling swigs of your drink before grabbing the TV remote. Your face twisted a bit, examining the glass in your hand, the flavor of wine different than the one you were used to. It was a special night after all, your thoughtful boyfriend must have wanted you to branch out this evening. Where is he, anyway? As you pressed play, you called out for him, only to be cut off by your own confusion as Satoru’s face appeared on your TV screen. You watched with perplexity as Satoru recentered his chair, smiled, relaxed his face, and then smiled again.

No…no, no, no. What is this? You were locked in place, the melodious sounds of Satoru’s voice cascaded out of your surround sound system. He looked different though, his eyes were dull and low, his voice monotonous–his alarming difference in demeanor sent a chill down your spine. Your groggy mind inferred that this must’ve been an accident. Maybe it was casted to the wrong TV. I shouldn’t be seeing this…these are Satoru’s video diaries. 

You so badly wanted to tear your eyes away from the screen, this seemed like such an invasion of privacy. But you were entranced, staring intently toward the TV, though you didn’t really have a choice, your body was completely numb now. 

“January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point…” you fought to keep your eyes open, to piece together what the hell was happening, until your body eventually succumbed to sleep.

When you finally came to, you were laid out on your bed, fully nude. Soft grunts lingered in the air as you worked your hardest to refocus your eyes, your head pounding. You shifted your weight onto your forearms, your neck straining as it felt like your brain was filled with lead, eyes searching your bedroom for the culprit of the moans. One glance to the left, a quick look to the right, before you stared straight ahead at the wall directly across from the bed. Your body lurched in fear as your heart sank, the source of the sounds now looking you dead in the eyes: The man you had been seeing for the past couple of months, gagged and tied to a chair, his bloodied face twisted up in agony. 

You tried to call out for him. Your feeble attempts to drag your heavy body closer in order to console him were interrupted as the room was suddenly illuminated with the streaming lights of a projector. Your movements halted as you shielded your eyes immediately, the bright interruption feeling like a flashbang to your sensitive head. 

“We didn’t get to finish my show and tell,” a voice spoke up from the dark corner. 

“Satoru?? Wha…what is going on?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes while your hands attempted to cover your modesty. You tried your hardest to sit upright, your head spinning, unsure if Satoru was the culprit or your savior. Your body felt like it was anchored to the floor, your head throbbing with every word that tore through your chest. 

“There’s no need for all that yelling, sweetheart,” Satoru grinned, crouching down next to you. You winced as his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that trickled down your cheeks. 

Click

Metal cuffs clamped down on your wrists before you could even register what was happening. A million unanswered questions spun through the room as you frantically searched through his blue eyes, hoping to find any sort of insight into the torment he was inflicting upon the two of you. 

“This is what’s gonna happen, okay? I need you to listen to me.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, each syllable that left his lips more damning than the last as he dragged your limp body up the bed, securing your wrists to the headboard and angling your body toward the projected video on your wall. A crazed grin lit up his dull face as he raised his hand, pointing the remote toward the projector. “You’re gonna sit here and look all pretty f’me while you watch these tapes, and if you move, if you stop paying attention for even a second…” Your stomach churned at how gently he was able to give such vile instructions. He turned his attention towards your partner, the blade of a knife twirling through the slender fingers of his free hand, “...He’s dead. Understand, angel?” 

You nodded reluctantly, unable to do anything else but comply with his demands. Your head was spinning, trying to digest the fact that this was the same person who had paid your rent and entertained your rants after a hard day of work. You listened as his voice continued to drabble over the static of the projector, recalling how bland that day had been until he saw your face. How he must’ve dreamt of you because there was no way your beauty could exist outside of his imagination. To you, it had been a normal Tuesday afternoon. To him, it had been the start of the rest of his life. 

The longer you watched, the more the realization set in that the sweet gestures he presented to you were not out of the goodness of his heart, but from the darkness of his spirit, driven by his wanton lust. Your face was slack, eyes wide in horror. Disappointment crawled through your chest at your own naivety. How could I be so oblivious? So trusting? 

Satoru’s eyes bored into the side of your face as he sat beside you, his hands rubbing deep circles into your bare thighs, pure elation shooting through his veins at his sweet girl finally having a look into his mind. The look of terror that painted your beautiful face made his heart leap with joy. Satoru’s giddy demeanor dropped as pained grunts emerged from the tethered man against the wall. He stood, closing the distance between the two of them, his fist encircling your boyfriend’s throat. You began to protest, to plead with Satoru to leave him be, but the rage that filled his eyes made you shut your mouth. “Uh uh…eye’s on the screen, my love.” Your head snapped back toward the videos, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as the muffled wailing of your boyfriend filled the room. 

As the final video played, Satoru returned to your side, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he  stroked the back of your head and rubbed at your cheeks. “Can’t you see all that I’ve done for you?” He grabbed your face, digging his fingers deep into the space under your cheekbones, forcing your lips into a pucker. “You belong to me, my love.” A deep growl rumbled through his chest, “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, his hot tongue bullying its way through your tight lips. Small whines echoed through your mouth and into his, and Satoru greedily swallowed up your sounds with ease. Whimpers of protest came from the wall across from your bed, but they were quickly drowned out by the wet sounds of smacking lips and battling tongues.

He broke away, a thick trail of spit still connecting the two of you. Satoru released your cheeks with a gentle shove, throwing his leg over yours to straddle you. He dropped his head to your neck, his white hair brushing against your skin. You winced as he licked a thick line from your collarbone to your ear. “I finally get to have you,” he whispered, nipping at your flesh, “You ready to give yourself to me, princess?” Your eyes widened in horror, your gaze affixed towards your boyfriend, blood trickling from the fresh cuts on his cheeks. Your head shook side to side, tears brimming in your eyes once more as your thoughts raced through your mind, causing a traffic jam in your throat. “I…no, I can’t…he’s…” Satoru’s palm covered your mouth, a groan erupting from the back of his throat as his eyes rolled deep into his skull. He sat back, staring down at you, his free hand running its fingertips between your breasts. “This has nothing to do with him…It’s just me and you now, my love.” Your head snapped up to stare at your captor as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your nipples. A stifled moan teased the back of your throat, an exasperated look of fear in your eyes as you stared up at Satoru.

Your cheeks flushed as you held his gaze. He grinned back down at you before rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. Your chest arched toward him, a shameful hum dancing from your lips as he played with you. A deep laugh erupted from the blue-eyed man at your unintentional reaction, his head thrown back with pure joy as he continued to pull at your nipples. He leaned into your neck once more, his teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. “I knew it,” he purred, “Knew you wanted me, too. You were just playing hard to get, isn’t that right?” You shook your head once more, your words constricted in your chest. “N-no…I never wanted you,” you retorted, head thrown to the side, attempting to distance yourself from him, but to no avail. The weight of him anchored your lower half to the mattress while your tethered wrists held you in place.

A deep chuckle rumbled through Satoru, “So if I feel your pussy, it won’t be absolutely soaked right now?” A pathetic whimper escaped your throat as you shook your head furiously. The rolling motion against your nipples halted and his hand trailed lower down your abdomen. “Hmm…let’s see then, shall we?” he taunted, tracing your skin before rubbing your folds and dipping into your core. “I knew it…you’re fucking drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers in, shallowly teasing your hole before withdrawing, bringing his sopping digits between your faces, turning his wrist as the dim light of the room illuminated the wetness, making it glisten ever so slightly. He examined them before meeting your fearful gaze. “Why did you lie?” He sucked his middle digit into his mouth, his tongue lapping hungrily at your sweet juices as his eyes fluttered shut. A hum emanated from Satoru as his other soaked finger pushed past your lips, “Here, have a taste, pretty girl,” his long digit dancing around your tongue. “So fucking sweet. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this.” 

“I’ll ask you again, princess…Why’d you lie to me? I thought you were better than that,” he teased, an insincere pout twitching at his lips as he cradled your chin. Your body thrashed as his hands pawed down your body, plunging two fingers deep inside you again. Your back arched toward him, his knee between your legs was the only thing keeping you open for him. “I…It wasn’t..ahh!– I wasn’t lying…I–”. Your words fell on deaf ears as a wicked smile crept across Satoru’s face.

“Shhh…shhh my sweet girl, just lay back and enjoy,” he smirked as he crawled down your body, laying himself flat on the bed with his head nestled between your legs. Satoru’s body no longer shielded you from your boyfriend, your teary eyes darted across his face, a silent apology being sent his way. Small gasps escaped your lips as Satoru continued to pump into you, the tips of his curled fingers toying with your sweet spot. When you stared down at him, the look of pure desire peered back at you, the dampness between your legs skyrocketing at the sight. A scarlet dusting of shame brushed across your cheeks at your clear enjoyment of all this, even though it betrayed every natural instinct you had. His tongue darted out from between his lips, the tip circling your swollen clit as his fingers dipped in and out of you, his movements spurred on by his own desperation.

He was delirious, suckling against your clit while his fingers worked into you with fervor, moans and growls echoing through the room as he drank you in. You so badly wanted to break away, to console your boyfriend who had an unintentional front row seat to you falling apart on someone else’s tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, his digits hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Pleasure ripped through your body as a tightening sensation crept its way into your stomach. The rattling of your cuffs echoed through your bedroom as you fought against your restraints, desperately wanting to tangle your fingers in Satoru’s hair.

Your hips bucked toward his mouth, your body aching for release as your pelvis thrusted against his flattened tongue. You didn’t dare look away from Satoru, for you knew there was another set of eyes affixed upon the damning scene that was unfolding. He continued to hum and suck and pump into your core as you tightened around him, his slender fingers quickly coaxing your orgasm from your writhing body. Your eyes screwed shut as your gushy walls spasmed around his fingers, your release painting Satoru’s overly-eager face. He lapped at you some more, working you through your orgasm as he cleaned you up with his wickedly talented tongue. 

A deep growl broke through Satoru’s chest as he removed his head from between your legs, the back of his hand dragging across his chin, catching the last of your release before he licked you off of him. He sat upright, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, “Hope you were taking notes,” a smug grin on his face as he addressed your watching boyfriend. He redirected his attention to you. “Did so good f’me, angel. Dreamt of that for so long…” he grinned, his tongue darting out to trace along his lips, hoping there was still some of you coating his face “...I could do that all fuckin’ day.” 

Your shaking chest heaved as clarity settled into your mind. Satoru untethered your wrists from the headboard, shifting your body so that you were on your hands and knees, head positioned toward the wall your partner was leaning against. Strangled sounds rang from your boyfriend’s chest as you finally met his gaze. Humiliation prickling under your skin at the realization of what you had just done. But you had no time to dwell on it as Satoru repositioned himself on the bed.

“He’s gonna watch me destroy you, my sweet girl,” Satoru was kneeled behind you, lining himself up with your embarrassingly soaked entrance. He grasped your hips roughly, sinking into you in one fluid motion. You choked out a sob as you dropped your head in shame.

“You’re so pretty when you cry. He can’t help you…can’t save you. Go ‘head, keep cryin’ for him,” he cooed, his thrusts deep and slow inside of you. Jagged moans escaped your throat as the thick head of his cock brushed into your sweet spot. “He can’t make you feel as good as I do.”

He leaned down, reaching around to cradle your throat in his hand, squeezing tightly as he turned your head to the side, his sharp eyes running up and down your contorted face. “Can’t you see that you belong to me, how my poor heart aches for you? How badly I’ve needed you?” His thrusts were agonizingly slow but incredibly deep, the pressure in your tummy betraying your desire for this to stop. “That’s it, my love. Feel you clenching down on me…you’re getting off on this, aren’t ya?” His hips rocked deeper into you, the new depth had your hands clawing at the sheets of your bed as pleasure worked its way through your trembling body.

“He doesn’t treat you the way I do. He never will. No one is better for you than me, princess,” he seethes, his hand cupping your chin, holding your head up, “Now look in his eyes while I use you.” His pace picked up, pulling you back on to him with his anchored hand around your neck. A broken sob cut through your constricted throat as he fucked into you, the visceral sound of flesh smacking against flesh and whines and cries spun through the otherwise stiff air of your room. He palmed at the fat of your ass, pulling your body to meet his rough thrusts. A choked cry left your lips as you maintained eye contact with your boyfriend, crimson droplets running down his face, mimicking the pattern of your tears. You mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” to him before your eyes shut tightly, waves of sinful bliss pulsed through your body with every mean thrust of Satoru’s hips.

“Gettin’ so tight around me–f-fuuuck–you’re close, huh?” Your face contorted in shameful pleasure as you nodded, your back arching even more to take him deeper. “That’s it…c’mon, my love. Need you to cum on my cock,” Satoru begged, his voice airy as he got lost in your tight, sopping walls. “Show me how good I make you feel.” His words ricocheted around your head as the building pressure in your stomach finally snapped, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body, splattering onto Satoru’s thighs and the mattress below you. 

A few more strokes met your dripping center before Satoru bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of his pearlescent seed painting your spasming walls. He finally released his tight grip around your throat, your head dropping immediately as indignity plagued your trembling frame. He pulled out, spreading your cheeks as he leaned down, an animalistic growl pulling from his chest as he watched his cum dribble out of your pussy. 

Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your lower back as you worked to regain your breath. “You’re mine,” he whispered. He unlatched the restraints from around your wrists, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the purple bruises that marked your skin. He locked eyes with your boyfriend, a deranged smile dancing across his face as he reached for the discarded projector remote. 

Another familiar voice flooded through the speaker, but this time it wasn’t Satoru’s. “...We broke up a few weeks ago. No, no. Really, it’s okay. She was kind of a bitch anyway.” Your pupils widened as you stared back at the man you had just been feeling sorry for minutes ago, rage mixing into the vast sea of emotions you were already feeling while you watched a grainy video of him snaking his arm around another woman’s waist. The two of them were laughing outside of his house before she leaned in to kiss him. 

“My poor sweet girl.” Satoru’s hand brushed lightly against your cheeks, catching tears that you didn’t even realize had begun spilling out. “I didn’t want you to have to find out this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

There were a million other ways he could have broken the news to you, but that somehow wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand. 

“An eye for an eye, right?” The same haunting grin that you’d grown to know all too well spread across his face again, his blue eyes slicing into your ex-boyfriend’s. “I can’t believe that my entire world was in the hands of someone so undeserving…” he redirected his attention back to you and recaptured your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down to meet your gaze, unexpected softness replacing his usual sinister demeanor. “What do we do now, baby? It’s your call.”

Your pulse was ringing through your ears. “My call?” your voice was reduced to a whisper as you repeated it back to him. 

“I’m going to kill him either way, but I want you to tell me how.”

You pondered for a moment, still coming to terms with the chain of events that lead you to this one vengeful moment. 

Satoru stood, sauntering over to your boyfriend, stooping down to his level while his hands hovered over his gag. “When I take this off, I don’t want to hear anything other than remorse come from that pathetic fuckin’ mouth of yours.” Your boyfriend’s eyes shifted towards you, then back to Satoru, as he nodded pitifully. The tie was pulled from his mouth. His words were broken, barely audible. “I’m -” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I -”

Your stomach lurched as a sharp smack met his cheek, the painful sound resonating through the room. “You can do better than that. You got one more try,” Satoru spat, his eyes burning into your ex-lover’s bloodied face as he wrapped his fist around his throat, jostling his head around in a fit of rage. 

“Satoru,” you hardly recognized your tone let alone the thoughts that were racing through your head. The last few hours of your life had been a blur. The words you heard earlier made perfect sense now, “Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point.” You were officially at that point. “Satoru, don’t. Let’s just end this.”

It was the first time you’d ever seen the silver-haired man look surprised. His eyebrow raised, a mix of curiosity and amusement glinting in his eye. “Tell me how,” he repeated. “I need to hear you say it.” 

You were in a dream. Nothing more than a figment of Satoru’s imagination, just like he had said. It was the only thing that made sense to you because there was no way any of this was actually happening. 

“Rip his heart out,” your voice emotionless as you gazed toward the blue-eyed man. Satoru groaned deeply, his dick twitching at the sound of your pretty voice speaking his dark language. The same depraved grin pulled at the edge of his lips as he looked back at your ex. 

“Well,” he smirked, “looks like it’s decided then…” Adoration swam through his ocean eyes as he looked back at you, “I knew I picked the right one.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The lock of your front door unbolted as your bodies pushed through the door frame, giggling as four glasses of wine danced through your systems. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he mumbled against your lips. His hands grasped yours as he led you toward the couch. 

You nestled into the warmth of his chest, his arm secured around you while you gazed around the room. Your head spun from the wine-induced nostalgia that this day had inevitably brought on. You were still in the same apartment, only it belonged to both of you now. A blend of sentimental gifts decorated your bookshelf that the two of you had collected over the last year. A camcorder, pressed red roses, framed vacation photos, and the first set of diamond earrings he’d bought you stowed away in a heart-shaped jewelry box. But out of all of the memories that tied you together, there was one that stood out the most. 

“Should we open it?” you whispered, drawing lazy circles into his shoulder.

You didn’t have to see his face to feel his smirk. He knew his girl and he knew her well. He stood wordlessly, retrieving a jar from the highest shelf. He presented it to you, a smug grin gracing his ethereal features, the same look that was permanently etched into your brain the night he got it for you. 

“Be my guest, princess.” You unscrewed the lid, peering into the jar as the strong scent of formaldehyde tickled your nose. You smiled longingly into the container, the overwhelming feeling of love reverberating through your chest. There was something so beautifully poetic about Satoru’s limerence, the lengths at which he went to steal the heart of another in order to fully possess yours. 

author note: im so sorry for not posting my sweets,, i had the worst case of writer's block and i was actively trying to work on six different WIPs...i was losing my mind.

this was quite the heavy fic to write...i hope i didn't scare anyone away with it lol

alsoooo!! sending out the biggest thank you to @remlionheart for forcing me to finish this...my editor, my co-writer, the love of my life ♡ ⋆｡˚

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do no distribute. 2024.

[dollyichi]

THREE PEAS IN A POD . . . husband ! katsuki bakugou featuring your two babies / f ! reader / fluff / the both of you are already parents!

katsuki definitely prides himself in having two beautiful babies and the family you built together.

one girl, one boy (he’s older just a bit), and it’s funny how despite you being the one carrying them for 9 months his genes won in a landslide. however, your baby boy has eyes just like yours!

what you didn’t know, was how much they actually took after their dad. it was beyond their physical attributes.

katsuki finally had a day off and as much as you wanted to skip work that day and spend time with them, the projects just kept piling up that you couldn’t even fake a cold.

he reassures you that he can handle them.

katsuki’s woken up by his two little runts, shaking him in excitement. he’d pretend to sleep for a bit, peeking with one eye open to see them frowning at each other because he’s taking too long to ‘wake up.’ only to sit up and grab them. they squeal in surprise as he pulls them down to his chest, twisting and turning—putting them other the covers, already having so much fun at the start of the day.

after he made them breakfast he wanted to take them out to the mall, spoil them a little bit. they were really well behaved (something you taught them well!) and didn’t fuss even when they missed you. thinking that if they’re sad you’re not here, daddy will get sad too and they wouldn’t want that—today’s supposed to be a happy day!

at the mall he’d get a few compliments and whispers from moms and fans. how they look so much like him, how they even walk like him! it’s really adorable how he made them wear matching outfits, even sunglasses! two mini bakugou’s!

but genetics weren’t the only thing they got from him you see. they visited all types of shops, getting a few things of what they want here and there because katsuki always said to “just get anything you want.” their eyes are so bright and full of excitement. he has to slouch a bit while they’re walking hand in hand, bringing him to every aisle they take an interest in while he follows happily.

still, a phrase would always pop up from one of them. “maybe mommy would like this!” or “should we buy these for mommy too?” and they’d be showing it to him so proudly he’s almost melting. feeling so proud that a part of his love for you transferred onto them as well. they’re absolutely his kids, no doubt about it. ends up getting everything they wanted to get for you.

doesn’t even care if it’s obvious that you’re their favorite. chuckling to himself that the bags he’s carrying is mostly stuff the kids picked out for you. besides, you never asked for anything, but they listen real well, just like their father. “i hope mommy’s happy with all the things we got her!” your daughter says while he helps her with her seatbelt. “she definitely will be.”

and when you get home you see he’s watching them from the couch as they set on their little chairs drawings happily. when they realize you were there all three of then stands up to greet you. and you give each of them a kiss.

when you helped sort out some of their ‘shopping’ you see a this really expensive coat that you were eyeing just a week ago while your little girl slept on your lap (you didn’t know she was peeking from time to time).

you’re so happy you ended up hugging him so tightly, “oh my katsuki, how’d you know?” and he would shake his head with a smile, “i didn’t pick that one babe, she did.”

yeah, they definitely take after him at least eighty percent!

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : papa katsuki cradling his little ones in each of his arms while carrying the bags without the need of a shopping cart… i’d be asking for baby number 3 idk what to name these two ><

spin off — late send with todoroki shouto <3

[sistertotheknowitall]

Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.

Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.

——

By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.

Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.

He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.

Mia had been insufferable ever since.

It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)

Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.

There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.

Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.

Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?

It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.

Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.

“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”

“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”

Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”

“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.

Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”

“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”

Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”

“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”

“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”

“Danny!” Mia called.

Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”

(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)

After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”

Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.

[oceantornadoo]

bad day (simon riley x reader, best friends to lovers)

honestly, you should have seen it coming. staying in a safe house with four men who have never ending stomachs? but today, it was the last straw.

“you ate my last cookie?”

soap’s face dropped, jaw open. your voice was on the verge of breaking, tears forming in your eyes. you never showed this much vulnerability in front of the team, and he was flabbergasted. he shot a look at gaz, who was equally as confused. “‘m sorry, bonnie, i didnae ken-“ you pushed your hands on the table, shoving your chair back and out. “it’s ok. gonna take a nap.” you were wiping your eyes furiously, feeling unstable. first you got your period four days early (asking price to add pads to the shopping list was something you never wanted to experience again), then you couldn’t find your heating pad, and now your cookies were out? maybe it was the hormones, but you were done.

“oof.” you had ran into a thick wall. scratch that, the wall was moving. your vision was blurred by tears you refused to shed that you didn’t even realize it was your closest friend ghost. “dove?” you hiccuped. why did he always have to be so nice to you? gruff and mean-sounding to everyone else, but an avid listener and sweet talker when it came to you. “jus’ trying to get to my room, didn’t see you. sorry l.t..” you tried to maneuver around him, but unfortunately a 6’4 machine of a man did not move easily.

“why you cryin’, baby?” shit, simon did not mean to call you that. he did not want to have this conversation right now, especially when you looked like you were about to break down. you were always so strong, having to work ten times harder as a woman in the military, and he was always careful to not undermine you or your struggles. unfortunately, that landed him firmly in the friendzone for the past year, unable to confess his feelings without breaking your trust. he maneuvered you to the closest room, which happened to be his. he sat down on the bed, intending to sit you down next to him, but instead you still stood, walking in between his parted legs.

“‘m sorry, just on my period and everything hurts and it’s all hitting at once.” your eyes were red, avoiding his. he could see you were in pain, and as someone who had endured enemy torture and the hardest forms of training, his heart never hurt as much as it did now. he reached a gloved hand towards your face, brushing away your tears. his other hand came to your lower belly, rubbing circles over your clothes. “shhh, ‘s okay. you wanna sit down?” you shook your head in disagreement. you felt like a child, but you were never allowed to be weak outside of your own room. for some reason today, you let simon riley see you weak.

you walked around his body and laid on top of his covers, curling into a fetal position. he let you get comfy, finding a way to lay down that lessened your cramps. finally, you were done moving. “si?” you never called him that unless you absolutely needed him. he got up and locked the door, not wanting to disturb your peace. “yeah, baby?” might as well use it now, you hadn’t complained. if anything your face softened when he said it, and simon riley would die a thousand deaths just to see a moment of relief on your face. “will you lay with me?”

he eagerly stripped out of his gear, climbing on top of his bed to lay down with you. he placed a hand on your arm, letting you choose where you wanted him. you dragged his hand under your sweatshirt, using it like a heating pad for your cramps. you let out a soft moan of pleasure and he answered it with a low growl, pulling you into him by the stomach. his thumb caressed your bare skin with small circles, memorizing every dip and valley. he strived to commit the moment to memory, not knowing if you’d ever be this vulnerable again. “feel better, dove?” you nodded, finally succumbing to sleep that had evaded you the past night. he smiled under his mask, placing a small kiss to the back of your head.

finally you were at peace, and all because of him.

[i-love-you-just-the-same]

this is entirely @tame-the-lion-writes fault for giving me brain worms lol

it really does start with kyle-- he's the bird, he can scope out the area the 141 are staying for the time being. what he doesn't expect is you, the pretty thing fixing up one of the cabins near them. he starts to hang around, becomes noticed by you (especially when he leaves you trinkets on the porch). johnny is next, he follows kyle to see where he goes when he disappears for hours. johnny plunges in faster than kyle. he's rumbling through drawers and sleeping in your blankets not too far along while kyle perches on your desk chair. you're receptive but hesitant. should wild animals be this friendly?

it gets more concerning when there's a bear rolling around in your front yard. he pushes your mailbox down--then back up once he realizes it's down. he sticks his head through your kitchen window and demands toast. price wants in, the best way for that is being as harmless as possible. so letting gaz perch on him and soap sleep on him (grumpily). eventually he's rewarded with head pats and cuddles in the living room (thankful for the wide door).

simon is much more reluctant. you can see him lurking, following you from afar, but he only ever gets close if you're in need of help. one time another big dog snarled at you and he attacked it. another time he led you away from a burrow of snakes. you see him with the fox, who plays with his tail and nimbles his haunches, but that's about it. he'll sleep on the porch when the other three are inside. you leave him scraps and let him be distant for awhile. it's a trust exercise to get him to be near you, so when he eventually comes to lay at the door to your room and allows soft touches to his ears, you take the win.

they're surprisingly helpful. ghost will bring you your shoes and gaz retrieves earrings. soap picks out blouses while price decides how cohesive the outfit is. they're good at online shopping and johnny will hide in your bag when you go to pick it up. they like to "find" money for you so you don't feel as bad dressing up more. gaz learns to braid with his beak while simon lays his head on your thigh.

they've managed to explain their nicknames of "gaz" (fridge letters), soap (lots of soap bars with teeth marks), "ghost" (a bed sheet and the way he acts), and "price" (money, lots of it, with help from the fridge letters).

they're not sure how to broach the "shifter" topic, so they don't for the time being. they take care of you in the ways they can, you bandage their paws and offer forehead kisses.

[vrystalius]

Squid Game men as dads (+pregnancy HCs)

How they act during your pregnancy, shortly after birth and as a veteran dad!

Pairing: Recruiter, Thanos, Dae-ho, Gi-hun, In-ho x fem!reader

Summary: Headcanons, scenarios as them as to-be-dads, new dads and veteran dads plus a bonus scenario at the end of each character!

Genre: Fluff, angst

Words in total: 7.1k (Every part is around 1.4k words long)

Note: No baby names or gender are mentioned so everything is up to your interpretation. Also, this took a lot of effort. I hope you enjoy this <3

Gong Yoo // The Recruiter // The Salesman

( Words — 1.1k )

Your husband was extremely over-prepared for anything and everything during your pregnancy. He seemingly bought every single parenting book that exists on this planet and proceeded to inhale them in a matter of days before internally panicking about if he is capable of being a good dad anyway. You can tell how much everything was eating away at him, even before the child was born. Although he tried his best to never show it.

A way to channel his nervous and stressed energy into something good is by constantly hovering around you. Being near your pregnant glow gives him a peace of mind, resting his head on your stomach and listening to the baby’s heartbeat and feeling a light kick here and there, or having you in his arms while giving you a massage, his lips peppering featherlight kisses over your skin.

Gong Yoo always insisted on cooking for you, no matter the hour of day or night. He is kind of afraid you might consume something questionable again after watching you dip tuna kimbab into chocolate sauce, insisting it tastes really good and almost making him try a little too.

For you and your baby’s health, he fully banned you from the kitchen. No more experimenting with food for you.

˚✧₊⁎-

He was absolutely broken the first time he held your baby. It was so unbelievably small, so fragile, pure and innocent. The embodiment of love and the result of it. Gong Yoo had to bite his tongue and hold back his tears in order to not cry waterfalls onto your newborn because he knows once a single tear drops, his whole facade shatters.

Once the baby came home with you two, the once neat and organised, shared home was transformed into a more warm and homely environment, the floor now decorated with toys, onesies, clothes and small children’s books.

He always gets up in the middle of the night so you can rest, falling asleep in the rocking chair with the baby in arms. Your husband is also mostly the one that stays at home with the baby since his job only requires some recruitment of desperate people once a year, so most of his time can be dedicated to you and his family.

Gong Yoo is also that one dad most of the other moms swoon about when seeing him at playgrounds or in the park, pushing the stroller of the baby, or having his kid hang out in a sling tied to his chest while he went shopping, comparing two types of baby foods with another and showing both to the bean of happiness tied to his chest, cooing and asking which type of baby food is tastier.

Hanging out with the baby is probably the activity that takes 80% of his day and he is not complaining at all. Your husband’s head lays on the edge of the crib while watching the precious thing sleep, cradling them in his arms in the middle of the night, sitting with them in the playpen, completely matching their excitement and energy while playing with their toys, admiring how easily his kid can be entertained.

Although he looks charming and even more handsome out in public, he cares little about his appearance anymore. While he was obsessed with the way his suit looked and hair was styled, now, he considers himself satisfied when he finds a clean t-shirt. His hair gets a little messier and dark circles begin to form beneath his eyes.

˚✧₊⁎-

Even as a veteran dad, Gong Yoo fold together immediately when his kid try to win his favour by saying I love you or making puppy eyes at him. He’s not a pushover though, standing his ground and giving his kid a strict glare whenever they go to far that immediately silences them is not impossible, although he doesn’t like doing it.

He is always afraid of doing something wrong when it comes to parenting, overthinking every decision and everything he says, fearing he’s too strict, too loose, too much of a pushover, too disinterested and blah blah blah.

You had to stop his circling train of thought by soothing your husband by reminding him how he always shower up to every single school event, always sat through the homework and never raised his voice when his child didn’t understand something, instead explaining it in simpler terms without making them feel stupid for not getting it the first time, how he never shamed his child for doing wrong, never blamed them for being just a kid and always did the opposite than his own father did.

It might sound selfish, but becoming a father healed the hole left behind by his own. Oh how he wishes and prays that he does and did everything right. The only thing he wants is for you and his precious baby to be happy and safe, no matter what.

˚✧₊⁎ - (TW: Suicide)

“What’s the matter? Your mind starting to race?”

The recruiter sits across Gi-hum, gun handed over into his hand. The cold metal now feels almost overwhelming when touching his skin, as if screaming at him to turn it around and point it at the man sitting across him and shoot him, end the game here and there.

“That’s right. Screw the rules. Now, with a single pull of the trigger, you could kill me… but, I’ll have you admit one last thing.”

Gi-hun’s voice wasn’t even shaking in fear, it was firm with determination.

“You put a mask on your face and do whatever your master says. You run, bark and wag your tail for them.

You’re nothing more than their dog.”

The words emitted from the mam sitting across him begin to slice deeper and deeper into his mind, his heart and soul. It’s true what he says, Gong Yoo knows it himself. He is but a small chess piece, a dog, as Gi-hun says, that obeys every order and does what his master says.

What choice does he have anyway? It’s either that or risking his death and yours.

You. A flashing memory of your face from just this morning briefly plagues his mind, the view now feels so utterly distant and unreal.

A small, cocky smile spread on his face, pathetically trying to have his last laugh. He leaned back against the cushion and cocked the gun, pressing the barrel against the underside of his chin. Taking one last breath, his finger pressed against the trigger, not pulling it yet.

He knows you both will be okay. Maybe even better without him.

Thanos // Su-bong // Player 230

( Words — 1.5k )

To be very honest, the news of your pregnancy kinda hit him like a truck. It was somewhat accidental and Thanos maybe panicked quite a lot while pacing around his shitty apartment, scared to death about the idea of becoming a dad. Like, have you seen him?? He is supposed to become a dad?!

After loosing his mind and having multiple panic attacks, he pulled himself together and went to the dollar store to buy a onesie, a teddy bear and a bouquet of roses before heading over to your place and ringing the doorbell for multiple minutes until you finally open the door.

He actually sold his apartment and moved in with you, performed a gig every night for multiple weeks on end, even dealing his fair share of drugs in club pentagon. Your boyfriend would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it, but having a stable income would be much nicer.

Other than that, your boyfriend took care of you the best he could. Whenever you crave something to eat, your boyfriend will stand inside a gas station at 2 am to buy you the specific type of chips you wanted. If there wasn’t enough money to afford a decent meal for the two of you, you’d get all the food. He promises to be fine and get his food elsewhere, don’t even worry about him.

He is incredibly fascinated by your changing body. Your breasts are bigger, softer and sensitive. Thanos will be poking them all day every day randomly, trying to see if they’ll leak despite you only being three months into the pregnancy. He’ll insist on taking a picture of your belly every day so he can document the process to show it off to his kid one day.

Also, he never smoked, vaped or used around you. Your boyfriend has been clean of drugs for the almost entirety of your relationship but still smoked, but for the health of you ans your baby, he tried his best to get clean on that as well but it proved to be much, much harder, so he instead settled on doing it on the balcony or outside.

One last thing, whenever he had a new ultrasound picture of his baby, he was showing it off to everybody he knows with the biggest grin on his face. Thanos was the proudest dad in the world before your baby was even born.

˚✧₊⁎-

Since your boyfriend was so used to staying up all night and performing, so he doesn’t really mind dragging himself out of bed to feed or cradle the baby in the crack of dawn. Although, doing that for multiple nights on end drains any person, so you two end up playing rock paper scissors after a while to decide who gets up.

Thanos is the type to grab his baby by the back of the onesie and lift it out of the crib, gently throwing it onto your bed for some family cuddles, grinning like an idiot at how his baby giggles in delight and kicks its legs, wanting to fly through the air again and again.

He performs for his kid too whenever he doesn’t know what else to do to make his baby stop crying. Your boyfriend would play with an imaginary DJ board with his hands, his waist swaying left and right as he sleepily raps some random lyrics together to make the crying baby in the crib finally fall asleep after being fed, cradled and having its diaper changed.

Sometimes, if all fails (even rapping), Thanos will climb into the crib in order to finally make the screamer fall asleep. His legs would dangle over the edge of the crib and angled in a weird position, his neck awkwardly leaning against the railing. Despite this clearly uncomfortable pose, he was deeply asleep and snoring alongside his baby sleeping on his chest. Of course, this scene immediately became your new phone wallpaper.

After having the baby for a while, Thanos’s fashion will completely shift from the indie/grungry/rave-whatever-esc he was wearing to whatever is clean and comfortable. He doesn’t care he’s wearing a spongebob shirt right now, he’s busy deciding if he wants to buy a CD of the Beauty and the Beast movie or treat you with some snacks and chocolate.

Your boyfriend also had some serious attachment issues. That man could not stand not being near his baby 24/7 or not being able to have it in sight. If you want to take it out to the park or something he’ll insist on coming with you or else he’ll be stuck bouncing his thigh up and down and switching between social media platforms to pass the time until you come home.

What was kind of fascinating to you was how little Thanos now needs to be entertained. Having his little sunshine on his lap, curiously biting onto his fingers or reaching out to his hair could keep him entertained for hours upon hours.

Sometimes you walk in on your boyfriend lying on his stomach, legs kicking in the air, making some grimaces at your kid and watching how it begins to giggle and laugh, trying to copy their dad’s expression as hard as they can. Although you have to say that your baby has their papa’s signature scowl.

˚✧₊⁎-

As a more experienced dad, Thanos gathered no experience at all. Despite his baby now being a toddler, it’s still like he has had that kid for two and a half days. Sure he knows what his kid likes and dislikes because it’s basically the same to him, both your manchild and child like colourful things and don’t like vegetables, but Thanos still has no idea how to raise a proper human.

Whenever you scold your child for something, your boyfriend just nods in approval. When the kid looks over to their papa for help, he’ll just point at you. “Listen to your mama, she’s smarter than both of us.”

Although he gets more excited every day at how he can do more with his kid now. He likes to fantasise and envision everything they could do together, like his precious sunshine’s first day in elementary school, teaching them how to ride a bike, first time bringing them to the club and show them off to everyone…

You’ll have to listen to your boyfriend fully plan out tomorrow and what he’ll go do with his kid while being cuddled up in your arms, your fingers brushing through his hair. Thanos’ll gesture around while vividly explaining everything in detail, how he wants to go buy some new toys and then maybe go to the park, grab some ice cream, then go choose out their bike to learn how to ride one on. It’ll be fun!

Although fantasising is fun, reality is often a little different. It’s difficult to afford all the things he dreams of thanks to your financial situation but despite everything, you, him and your child are happy.

He’ll make every minute, every hour and every day count, wanting to make as many good memories as possible before they grew too old and annoyed of their over-affectionate and hyper dad.

Also, your boyfriend is horrified of the teenager stage when thinking back to his own and how he first got caught up in the drug mess and whatever else he got himself into, but thankfully as of now, your child has yet to finish kindergarten so they are a couple of years ahead before that happens.

˚✧₊⁎- (TW: Death)

He was trying to stop the blood with everything he has, pressing his hands against the underside of his chin as the warm, metallic blood stickers through his fingers, staining the bathroom tiles below.

Choking on his own blood, Thanos slowly crawled into the corner of the bathroom, trying to escape from the chaos that erupted behind him. His face was scrunched together in pain as he rolled over onto his back.

The quiet sound of gurgling was completely drowned out by the sounds of fighting, yelling and punching as Thanos quietly gasped for air.

Fuck, this wasn’t how all of this was supposed to go. He should’ve just gotten the damn money and voted to leave, get that Nam-su or whatever to vote leaving too so he could go home with the guaranteed money instead of risking to play another stupid childhood game.

Now he is here, on a bathroom floor, drowning in his own blood because of a fucking fork.

His eyes were too heavy to be kept open, his warm blood on his hand weirdly enough made him suddenly feel so incredibly tired, like a large, warm blanket was just draped over him. He should close his eyes for a moment before he’ll continue to fight for his life.

Thanos can survive this, he knows that. How could he not? He has a kid back home, you. He promised to buy you a ring and propose once he had gathered enough money. Imagining you in a pretty white dress, standing by the altar, waiting on him with that pretty smile of yours.

He can’t miss his kid’s first day of elementary school, graduation, first day of middle school, first crush, first heartbreak. He can’t leave his kid alone in this world, they can barely walk. How will they get anywhere without him being there to carry them in his arms? He promised himself to be there for them with every step of the way they may take, with you in hand.

He just has to close his eyes for a second, then he’ll stop the bleeding and get up. Promise.

Dae-ho // Player 388

( Words — 1.5k )

Dae-ho was over the moon and back the moment he found out that you are pregnant. Pregnant, carrying his child! He always wanted a family of his own and you being able to grant him that wish made him fall in love with you all over again.

He’ll do everything for you during your pregnancy, just you rest and look pretty. Your boyfriend will transform into a complete malewife and cook, clean and completely pamper you. Not that he never did that before, he just did it even more now.

Whatever you wished for was provided; massage for your swollen feet? C’mere, put your legs on his lap. You want to combine the worst foods together and inhale that combo like a five star gourmet meal? Sure, he’ll go buy the ingredients, save him a plate!

Dae-ho adored cuddling with you even more during that time than before. He adored laying his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat while his large palm gently brushed back and forth over your stomach.

Your boyfriend also takes his time every night to talk to the baby in your stomach. Feathery kisses would be placed all over your warm skin while he sleepily recalls things he did today, trying to get your baby to recognise that the man speaking to it was their dad.

He’ll talk about how he finished building the nursery and how much he looks forward to them seeing it, how you two went to the park today for a small walk, how he watched you ate seven hot dogs and proceeded to ask for his to eat as well.

You can’t help but grin how Dae-ho acts like the baby is already there, can listen and understand to what he is saying and react to it. Your fingers brush through his long hair while he slowly falls asleep with his head resting on your soft chest, his arms draped over your stomach.

˚✧₊⁎-

As a new dad, you can’t help but think about how much of a dilf your boyfriend had become.

His hair is messy and his face tired, yet he has that big grin of his always plastered all over. Dae-ho’s whole demeanour lights up even brighter with his baby in his arms, walking around your home shirtless with his muscles on full display for your shameless enjoyment.

Something extremely important to him is skin-to-skin contact, so you’ll have a half naked Dae-ho laying around on the couch with your baby curled up on his chest. He adores cuddling with you, so having a baby between you is a big bonus.

Even after your pregnancy, he was still in full on malewife mode, but now with a baby strapped to his chest. He cooks and includes his baby in the process so they can stay entertained, offering small tastes of the sauce he is working on or letting them have their own tiny cooking utensils to hold and inspect while he stirs the sauce.

His sisters also come by for a visit a lot so they can see the first offspring of the Kang family. They coo over your baby and congratulate both of you, but scold their brother sometimes for not caring for you well enough, especially after postpartum. Your reassurances that he does plenty fall on deaf ears most of the time.

They often times take your baby in so the both of you can have some alone time and rest. You two planned on taking a small vacation somewhere and treat yourselves to cocktails or something, but you and your boyfriend ended up sleeping and cuddling the full week and barely leaving the bed.

At first you and him enjoyed the peace and quiet, but after a day of naps, cuddles and breakfast at 4pm, Dae-ho suggested the idea of getting pregnant again.

He himself grew up in a big household and sure there were a share of fights over mundane things, but at the end of the day, he and his sisters love each other and have each other’s backs, no matter what. If one of them has problems, the others are there to help and support or bury the body of the problem.

He won’t forcefully push the idea of multiple kids on you though. If you say no he’ll totally understand it. He’s not the one carrying the baby for nine months and bleeds every month when he doesn’t, but Dae-ho will try and sweeten the idea of having a big family to you.

˚✧₊⁎- (multiple kids mentioned in this one)

As a veteran dad, Dae-ho always complies to his little monster(s) demands without complaint. He’s more of the fun dad that lets himself get used as a horse where his kids can hop on and be paraded around the home on his back. He could melt whenever his babies come up to him and ask him to join their roleplay, doesn’t matter if he’s going to be dressed up as a princess or supposed to play a big scary monster.

He’d be down to play all day every day, but once school work and homework comes into play, it’s going to be a little complicated. Dae-ho knows his ABCs and all but quadratic functions? Both him and his kid will be sitting by the table, crying of confusion and stress.

Despite being the fun-dad, he can be strict if he wants to. Sometimes his scoldings hit even harder than yours because of how tolerant he is. He never raises his voice or his hand, nor does he shame his child for doing something wrong. Screaming gets you nowhere, he learned that first hand, so instead he’ll try to understand their behaviour no matter how complicated or hard it may be.

Dae-ho is an incredibly proud dad and he will show it. Every award his kid wins, even if it’s a participation award, will be stored in the living room and somewhere you can admire it in its full glory. Every work of art that was ever gifted to him was kept in either large folders that sorted drawings based on the kid and year or on a shelf in the entrance area.

He also has plenty of pictures of his kids that he is ready to show off to everyone that had the misfortune of asking how they are. He’d spiral into a rant about their recent activities (no matter how mundane they seem, they are very special to him) and just how adorable they are, how they have your nose and eyes but his cheeks… the poor waiter just asked if they wanted a refill on his coke, not knowing about pandora box he opened.

˚✧₊⁎-

His body curled together as he pressed his back against the wall behind his bunk. Right now, Dae-ho wanted nothing more but the concrete to consume him, hide him away and muffle and the gunshots and yelling that was happening above him. His hands were tightly pressed up against his ears and his eyes tightly shut.

He hunched over to hide his face in his shaking knees, trying to hide from the gunfight, to hide form the shame of not being able to force his legs to walk and bring the much needed ammunition. Dae-ho knows he is useless.

“Dae-ho!!”

Player 120 calling out to him violently pulled him out of his trance, making him flinch. He stared up at her, his arms slowly moving off his ears, clearly shaking.

“Dae-ho, what happened?”

“I-I’m sorry.”

She leaned closer to him as he glanced away, lowering his head in shame. His lips pursed together and slowly began quivering as low whimpers escaped him. He felt her eyes literally piercing him.

“The magazines?”

Dae-ho stumbled over his own words, barely comprehending what she is trying to ask of him.

“I-I’m sorry— I-I…”

Hyun-ju glanced down to the hoodie near his cowering form and moved the cloth away to see what was inside. The ammunition magazines. Dae-ho flinched violently and lifted his arms to shield his face as she stood back upright with the ammunition in her arms, casting one last worried glance to the obviously scarred and horrified man before walking off.

The world around him went numb again as he kept repeating quiet “I’m sorry”s over and over, mixed together with broken whimpers.

No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t pull himself together and force his arms to grab a gun and fight for the games to end, but being staying here, with the other players, would be safer. Out there he either could be captured and eliminated, shot in the fight and bleed out, watch others die in front of him, kill other humans. He can’t do that. He can’t. No matter if he was in the marines or not.

Back when Dae-ho left for the games and back when he didn’t know that said games include death and murder, you two talked about it. You warned him about how it’s too good to be true. Playing childhood games in exchange for hundreds and up to millions of won?

You made him promise he’ll keep himself safe no matter what. You made him promise to always keep you and his family in mind, how he has people he needs to come back to.

It seems that his own body and soul internalised that pinkie promise you made him agree to. He has to keep himself safe and alive.

Gi-hun // Player 456 (post s1)

( Words — 1.4k )

Finding out that you’re pregnant almost made him have an aneurism. He already has a child that he himself doesn’t have a lot/barely and contact with before she moved away to America and even less now thanks to the distance and the want to keep her out of his mess. The mess that are the death games and the mess he now forced you to be apart of.

Gi-hun already felt incredibly guilty for falling in love with you. Anyone being associated with him is now in the line of fire and probably in constant danger thanks to him. Yet you stayed with him and even provided comfort.

He actually apologised for getting you pregnant while standing in a grocery isle to choose some jumpers and sheets for the future nursery crib. It was out of nowhere after staring at you being so excited over your baby, how you couldn’t decide between two pairs of itty bitty socks.

Gi-hun does warm up after a week or two. He catches himself smiling brightly at nothing after thinking back on how round you already look, what you’re doing right now. His eyes soften up every time he walks past the pastel nursery he build himself, fixing the sheets in the crib and folding the baby clothes together for the 100th time. His hands pick up one of the toys and his fingers brush over the surface, feeling the material beneath his skin.

Every time he does all this, it hits him all over again. You’re pregnant with his child.

Since he already had a daughter before and knows how much of a terrible father he was to her, Gi-hun feels a mix of guilt and excitement blooming in his stomach. He knows what he did wrong, both in the department of marriage with his late wife and parenting, so he doesn’t repeat his mistakes again.

The feeling of selfishness always swims around in his mind because it feels unfair to his daughter how he can provide all the things for his future baby he couldn’t for his daughter; proper attention, the financial means, maturity, a good father figure.

Gi-hun rested his head on your stomach, his eyes closed in relaxation as he listens to both your heartbeat and the heartbeat of the growing life inside of you, your hand idly resting on his cheek. Even if he cannot fully fight those feelings of guilt and shame, he swears to be a better father this time. In no means is he perfect, but he will try his best from the bottom of his heart.

˚✧₊⁎-

Right after birth, Gi-hun was incredibly attached to the baby. He was paranoid for a long period of time, things like sudden infant death and all kinds of worst case scenarios always in the back of his mind. He was faster than you in getting up whenever it cried, rushing over to the baby’s side immediately.

He’ll cradle the baby in his arms, silently walking around the home in the dark even long after his child fell asleep. Most of the time, calming his baby is more to calm his own mind of worries.

Sometimes, you two move the crib into your bedroom to stand beside your bed, just so he can feel more secure and less paranoia. It soothes Gi-hun’s mind to have his baby right there in arms reach. His arm drapes over to the crib, his hand weakly holding onto the railing even in his sleep.

But beside his paranoia, Gi-hun is always ecstatic when around his baby. There is always a carefree and soft smile on his face whenever his baby innocently chews on his finger, his eyes intently watching the adorable bean coo and kick around in its crib.

You gifted him a small heart locker with a picture inside. Unoriginal, sure, but something he cherishes with a his being nonetheless. The picture had you and him together, hand in hand, on one side of the locker, a photo that is actually fairly old. It was of one of your first dates and he had a soft smile on his face. It looked hesitant and unsure, but it was one of the first smiles he cracked in a long time.

On the other side of the locker was a picture of your baby in the crib, looking up into the camera with big and curious eyes while chewing on a rubber toy. You dressed the baby in an adorable brown bear onesie, overloading his senses even more.

Gi-hun wears the necklace almost every day and keeps it secure under his shirt, fishing it out and opening the locker to look at the two pictures to remind himself why he is still fighting to stop the games. His fingers brush gently over your face and his baby’s cheeks, a small smile spreading on his face.

˚✧₊⁎-

Since Gi-hun was already had a daughter before, he already kind of knows how to raise a child, although he sometimes struggles with spoiling his child too much.

Thanks to both the guilt he feels for failing to be a proper dad to his daughter and now having such an insane amount of money he doesn’t know what to do with, Gi-hun showers both you and your child with everything you two could possibly want.

So sometimes you have to remind him that just because your kid really really wants that expensive lego set doesn’t mean he should buy it for them, perhaps when it’s their birthday or Christmas or they have done a very good job at something.

You have to teach the oblivious man how to properly manage his money and maybe not buy everything in sight for your kid. Gi-hun will listen to you with those big, sad puppy eyes he always has whenever you scold him about something.

Also, he adores playing with his kid. His favourite thing to do is to have them stand on his feet and put their hand into his, walking “together” through the apartment while loud, childish giggles fill the rooms. He also loves carrying and walking his kid everywhere, despite knowing very well they acted like they were extremely tired just so daddy can carry them for a while.

How can he possibly deny his precious baby?

˚✧₊⁎-

“Here, take this.”

He takes out an ammunition magazine and offers it to Young-il standing in front of him, who was watching him holding the ammo out to him. “You’re going to need it.”

Young-il’s eyes glosses over his hand and up to his face slowly as if not believing his offer. “Are you sure?” Gi-hun nods reassuringly, holding it a little closer to him.

“Dae-ho will be back with more.”

That was the reassurance he seemingly needed before reaching out and finally taking the ammo out of his hand, nodding slightly. “Let’s do this, then. We have to end everything now.” Young-il mumbled, briefly gesturing towards the necklace around his neck as if knowing what was hidden beneath his shirt. “We have to bring everyone back to their families.”

Gi-hun froze for a moment as his head moves back to his ally. Jung-bae glanced over to the two. Seemingly taken back, the man quickly elaborates. “I mean, you have a wife and child, right? I overheard you two talk about it.”

“Doesn’t matter right now, go!!” Jung-bae waved his hand as if to shoo him away. Gi-hun just nodded and spared him one last glance before turning back to the pink guards standing atop of the stairs. Yet he can’t shake the feeling of dread creep up on his neck.

His hand briefly brushed over the locker beneath his cloth, tracing the heart shape with his fingers. Did he ever talk about you or his child back home? Even about his older daughter living abroad? Does Jung-bae even know about his family? Maybe it’s a lucky guess of Young-il.

His brows furrowed together in thought before Jung-bae ripped him out of his thoughts. “Gi-hun? Are you alright?”

Gi-hun flinched slightly before quickly nodding. “Yeah. Yes. Sorry.”

Without wasting another second or a breath, he pulled the gun closer to his chest and aimed it around the corner and at one of the guards and continuing the shootout. Although Young-il’s last remark still was engraved in his mind.

In-ho // Young-il // The Frontman // Player 001

( Words — 1.6k )

The news of you being pregnant actually horrified him to the core for a moment. The last time his love of his life was pregnant she died in the hospital while he fought for his life in the death games. It is safe to say that In-ho has bad memories associated with pregnancy.

Those bad memories fuel his protective streak even further as you cannot find a moment to yourself. Your husband will be there, hovering near you since the first day you know of your pregnancy. He orders you to take a seat in the leather chair of his study with that Frontman-voice of his while he provides food, drinks and entertainment for you.

In-ho also employed a doctor on the island that specifically is there to give you full medical check-ups every week. He cannot risk loosing you or the baby this time, you have his heart tightly trapped within your grasp and he does not mind at all. His heart is yours and yours is his.

Your husband tries to pull himself away from work and planning this year’s games but the VIPs are quite demanding and he cannot afford to disappoint them. Although he is a lot more home than before which you of course enjoy.

Your husband is actually a very good cook and will cook for you as much as he can, but also doesn’t mind when you give into your insane cravings. He will question your choices though, maybe even check your forehead temperature to see if you’re sick or something when In-ho catches you devour a whole plate of cut fruits you generously salted.

In-ho always was more hesitant when it came to showing affection, fearing he might come off as weak or soft and maybe seem unattractive to you. Even if you think quite literally the opposite.

With you becoming pregnant he became more and more sweet with you. His kisses will be more frequent and linger longer on your skin, his hands will always find their way to connect with you and let them run over your waist, stomach, back and shoulders.

Your affection breaks this man more and more as well, your hand cupping his cheek making him melt and nuzzle into your palm like a touch deprived cat, your kiss warming up his soul over and over.

In-ho knew this before but he never fully realised how hard he fell in love with you.

˚✧₊⁎-

You’ve never seen him cry before so the sight of your husband completely breaking down and showering you in praises and kisses right after birth. In-ho pulled you closer against his chest as his tears flowed down to you, his lips whispering broken “I love you”s, “You did such a great job” and “Thank you”s.

You gave birth in a hospital in Soel and not on the island. It was the decision of both of you to spend the first few days after the birth in the old apartment he still owned in the capital city, away from all the death for just a while.

Those days were the most peaceful and pleasant days In-ho had in a while. It was almost like a dream come true, the dirtiest fantasy he ever allowed to imagine: a regular family life with a wife and child. To go to the grocery store to pick up some carrot baby food and the bar of chocolate you have been craving, to have his biggest decision be if the newborn will wear the soft pink bunny jumpsuit or the cozy grey cat onesie. To be a simple man and his only duties to be a husband and a father.

Although after two weeks of rest and peace, the games pulled him and with that both you and the newborn back to the island.

Your husband did set his will through with the VIPs though and worked himself more free time he could spend with you and the baby.

Though he sometimes takes his child with to work by strapping them onto his chest with a baby sling. He knows that the rather violent environment is not the best place to have a baby, so In-ho implemented changes in the control center to make the place a little more child friendly.

The word “eliminated” was a little too gruesome in his opinion, so he made the woman who spoke the first voiceover change it to “lost” or “lost the game”. The blood on the screens will be censored with the colour black and most of the sound will be muted as to not expose his baby to the screams and pleads of mercy and scar that young mind.

It’s quite the bizarre sight, the Frontman standing in the center of the control room, inspecting the new portraits taken of the players participating the games while a giggling baby was attached to his chest, curiously chewing on their own fingers, unbothered by everything around them.

˚✧₊⁎-

As a more experienced dad, In-ho, much to his dismay, found out that his now a little older kid is very attached to the Frontman mask. Sure, they still smile when they see their papa, but they do seem happier and more excited when he wears his mask and talks to them with the voice changer.

In-ho’s parenting style is more strict than lenient, though he does provide a lot of love, encouragement and praise for his child, even his ways to express those things are more subtle. His hands give out light pats on the head while a smile spreads on his face, giving them an acknowledging nod for their work.

Whenever his kid needs to be lectured, his voice is stern but not loud. Raising a hand does nothing but ensue pain, fear and hate, so he never did that anyway. Thanks to his role as the Frontman, he knows how to be and sound incredibly intimidating and menacing.

It’s not entirely his fault, but In-ho is not home with you and the kid most of the time. He is always incredibly busy, especially during that time of the year. He tries his best to compensate for that lost time by pulling himself away from the games and spend time with his family, but it proves to be harder than it sounds.

He has a lot of pictures of you two on his desk and study. Whenever stress gets to him in a moment of weakness, In-ho will take his time to go through every single one. All of the masterful drawings made by your child are also on full display for his enjoyment and you know he’s treating it like a modern art gallery; with uttermost care and interest.

˚✧₊⁎-

“Look closely at the consequences of playing your game.”

In-ho’s voice was deeper, distorted when speaking through the mask. His eyes pierced through the man kneeling in front of him. Gi-hun.

Gi-hun stared back up at him with so much hate, so much despise. It’s almost humorous to In-ho how the same man that seeped of both hate and determination insisted on giving him one of his essential ammunition magazines. Almost.

The Frontman moved and aimed his caliber at the kneeling man beside him, Jung-bae. He slowly moved his head over to his best friend in horror. “Gi-hun.”

Those were the last words he mumbled before In-ho pulled the trigger, executing the kneeling man swiftly.

As Gi-hun screamed and cried for Jung-bae, trying to reach out to his best friend as the pink soldiers pressed him firmly against the concrete floors below, the Frontman swiftly turned around and stepped away to the master control room, sliding his gun into the coat as he walked.

It was pitiful, he thinks. Not the display Gi-hun gave or how he naively trusted him as the played the persona of Young-il to the point of wanting to overthrow the games with him, but how he, In-ho, opened up to the man.

He talked freely about you and how you two met, fell in love and married, how excited and horrified he was when you got pregnant, how he cried for the first time in a very long time after you gave birth. Gi-hun laughed with him when he ranted a little bit about the adorable antics of his child and he comforted In-ho when he voiced how much he missed you and worried about you.

Most of it was planned to get closer to the man and build some sort of connection, to make Gi-hun think of him as a father and husband than a faceless player. It’s just that In-ho enjoyed talking to him so freely.

He doesn’t have friend, no connection to his brother, no people he can confide outside of you and he can’t really talk about his wife to you, can he?

It almost felt normal, like two men complaining about the small things in life like how dry the buns are they ate at breakfast, or compare their children to one another and pridefully gush about how his already knew how to speak both Korean and English at 1 year old and how Gi-hun’s daughter lives in America and goes to a prestige school.

Yes, he’ll miss those couple of days he spend with him. But duty calls. He has to move on now.

💠

Author’s note. Thank you so much for reading!

I wrote this over the course of around three days while recovering from a head concussion, so I apologise for any mistakes! This took a lot of effort but was incredibly fun to write!! This is probably one of my longest work yet but it’s totally worth the effort, I just hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

[ohmy-gojo]

(pt.2)

jjk as cats with you as their caretaker au

you were just a simple employee at a cat adoption center. for most people it would be a dream, getting paid to take care of kitties? hell yeah. it was yours for a long time, but now..

"satoru, suguru. how many times have i told you both to not go outside?"

the white and black cats stared at you sheepishly, caught red handed trying to leave the shop. you had closed the shop, which meant no going out now. they both were the troublesome duo, always causing chaos. satoru tried to appease you by rubbing his head in your leg which made you crouch down and pat his head. this action however irked suguru, causing him to meow angrily at the white cat and jump to your arms

"oh hush, stop being so possessive suguru. satoru deserves love too, everyone deserves love here," you paused then took them both in your lap "well everyone except sukuna, thats why hes in the cage."

at your words the unusually colored red cat hissed angrily, giving you a stink eye. can cats even make such expressions? you honestly dont know. maybe the lack of sleep is getting to you. satoru and suguru simultaneously looked at him haughtily, flexing to not be stuck in the cage, rather in your arms

"everyone should be like kento here, hes such a good cat. isnt that right ken?"

you left the black and white cats to check kento— whom you affectionately call ken, sitting in his cat couch unbothered. you in fact have nicknames for every cats here but only call them that when theyre not being naughty. which means you call kento 'ken' all the time, much to the annoyance (and jealousy) of other cats

satoru and suguru's faces fell at the sight of you leaving them, giving a whining mewl. sukuna smirked at their frowny faces. 'heh.. karma' he thought in cat language

you took kento in your arms and gave him rubs. "youre such a good boy ken, arent you? yes you are, yes you are!— the goodest boy,"

kento preened at your words and huddled closer to your arms. hes always on his best behavior to get this treatment. he looked down on satoru and suguru, giving them a look of superiority

you were now walking around with kento in your arms, you already closed the shop so you just gotta leave for home. suddenly you remembered about the other cat, choso. whom you haven't seen in quite some moments

"shit!" you hastily put kento down much to his dismay "have any of you seen choso??""

sometimes you thought you were going crazy. here you were asking them questions as if they could answer. maybe you should quit and start therapy

but thats a problem for later! now you had a cat to find. in a hurry you accidentally stepped on something.. soft. which was chosos tail, he hissed in pain from his position under the chair where he was sleeping

at this satoru, suguru, sukuna laughed. even kento let out a quiet snort. in cat language of course. they already knew where choso was, opting to stay quiet instead.

"im so so sorry cho!!" you held the brown cat face to face with you, "forgive me?"

the brown cat pouted at you before finally accepting your apology with a quiet meow. you smiled happily and peppered his face with kisses. choso was now a happy cat. the others? well not so

sukuna, sick of you giving all these stray cats (deregatory) affection meowed loudly to get your attention. he then did something he absolutely hated but since he was desperate... he gave you kitty eyes (cat version of puppy eyes) you stared at him for some time before sighing heavily

"yeah yeah, im gonna get you out now. maybe don't scare away customers anymore?" you rolled you eyes but took out the keys to unlock his cage, he knew this method would work. "but who am i telling this, you still gonna do that no?"

sukuna just stared at you innocently, tilting his head. you scoffed but took him in your arms at the same time. you looked down at the four other felines who were at your feet, eager to be picked up. they were truly spoiled. weird thing is, they only ever acted this clingy and affectionate towards you, not other people or even their owner, mr. gege (they hated him for some reason, especially satoru). you stared at their hopeful blinking eyes and sighed again

"okay okay, you all can come to stay at my home tonight."

they all cheered. you once again thought you were mad to think cats can cheer. but oh well.

[eph3merall]

gamer!matt + sleepy!reader shenanigans <3

the harsh light of matt's pc lit up his entire room, tired blue eyes squinting at the screen and leaning back in his gaming chair. he's debating on what skin to use in his next fortnite match, a quick look to his phone screen that lit up with a notification telling him it's nearing 4 am.

quiet gasps and mewls sounded from the warm body in his lap, one arm thrown behind his chair while the other stretched out, his hand on his controller. the wet sound of you gripping him echoed in his bedroom, filtering through the headset that covered his ears. he shifted, both hands grasping his controller yet not laying a finger on you.

your head lay on his shoulder, drool seeping past your lips and dirtying the collar of the white pullover he had on. his sweatpants were pulled down to mid-thigh, your sleep shorts thrown haphazardly onto the ground—right along with your panties.

shaky hands grasped onto matt's shoulders as you worked yourself up and down on his cock, the squelching sound of your pussy ringing in your ears and causing your face to heat. the sound of his name rolled off your tongue occasionally, an indirect plea for him to help you.

all matt did was scroll through his fortnite skins however, flicking through the item shop and trying his best to not bust his load right then and there. every time you sunk down on him he could feel the way your walls squeezed around his length.

and for you, every time you settled down for a second the tip of matt's dick kissed your cervix and made your brain go fuzzy. your thighs have started straining, aching—begging silently for him to help you. to have his hips thrust up or for his hands to plant firmly on your hips to bounce you himself.

matt had good self control. he prided himself on that fact sometimes, but with the way his fingers twitched on his controller with each passing second didnt show signs of his usual 'good self control.'

it got to a point where it was all just too much, with the way you were gasping so quietly and how good you felt squeezing around him. so he dropped his controller onto his desk, hands gripping at the flesh of your hips as a hiss sounds out from between his clenched teeth.

"shit, you got it, baby.. come on, i know you're close," matt's words were raspy—heavily blanketed with exhaustion. it only got you more horny, more desperate to reach your climax as you moaned and nodded. his name fell off your tongue in a needy whimper.

"fuuck, come on.. jus' a little more. you're so good, baby. so good."

—

©eph3merall 2024