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megamindsecretlair · 10 months ago

Note

Do you write for Franklin saint? Maybe with him getting that stress relief??? Like I want him to be pussy whipped fr. (Feel free to ignore but your Franklin works are magical)

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive!!!!

Stress Relief

AO3 Link!

Pairing: Franklin Saint x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, PIV, oral (male receiving) multiple uses of n-word, kissing. No major spoilers for Snowfall.

Summary: During a stressful period at the end of season 3, Franklin is dealing with a lot of pressure from all sides. Between Leon popping off at the mouth and Manboy getting bold, Franklin is running around stressed. You feel bad. You want to help him. Even though it's hot as hell outside, you decide to do a little heating up at home to take the tension away.

Word Count: 2,434k

A/N: Whew! This got ME hot and bothered. I hope you enjoy! I'm also on AO3 now! Old dogs can learn new tricks! Please, please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I can't get better if I don't get feedback!

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Fuck it was hot as hell in LA. You fanned yourself as you sat in front of the fan, titties out, trying to cool off. You wore shorts, though that did nothing for the sticky sweat between your thighs. Your braids were off your neck, resting on the couch cushion. LA has had some record heat waves, but this felt like one of the worst ones. The radio called for everyone to do their part for conservation. Sheeit. It was hotter than a devil’s draws outside.

Franklin was going to be out all day, running errands with Leon. The mess between him and Manboy was stressing your man out and you were running out of ways to help him. Though you didn’t want anything to do with handling drugs, you tried to help in other ways. Counting his money, checking in on his mom and Alton, and holding down the house while he was away.

When Franklin got like this, it was best to get out of his way. It was tough for you to do because you were a helper by nature. You didn’t like seeing people in distress when you could do something about it. Sweets usually did it, but Franklin’s only vice was a nice glass of soda.

You sighed, adding to the hot air blowing through the room. Sweat gathered on your skin, under your boobs, giving you a light sheen that was bordering on uncomfortable. You tried to distract yourself with ways you could help Franklin relieve some of that tension.

It’d be easier if the mu’fucka just went on and had a drink. Everybody had something.

Keys jingling made you lean around the couch to look at the front door. Franklin slid into the house, dark blue shirt clinging to his lean frame. You watched him move, tension in the set of his shoulders and his lips pressed together.

“Hey baby,” you said.

Franklin did a double take, looking around for you. You made a noise so that he knew to look on the floor, in front of the couch. His eyes landed on you and he gave you a smile. “What you doin’ here?” He asked.

“I wasn’t finna go to work in this shit. Probably should have for the air conditioning, but well. It’s too hot for all that,” you said and waved your hand. Thinking about air conditioning made you pay attention to how the heat rolled over your skin.

Franklin closed the door and walked over to the couch. He passed in front of you and sat down. He leaned over a planted a kiss on your forehead. Then he sat back on the couch with a loud sigh.

“If anyone ask, I was over Rob’s last night,” he said.

You turned around to face him. “Okay. But where were you really?” You asked.

Franklin’s head rested on the back of the dark brown couch, looking up towards the ceiling like it had the answers he needed. He licked his lips slowly.

“Don’t you fix your lips to lie, Franklin Saint,” you said.

Franklin chuckled and it warmed you up to see him smile, even a little. You missed that damn smile on his face. Over the past few weeks, he’d been steadily growing more tired. The smiles didn’t come as easy.

“You know I try to keep you outta this shit,” he said.

“Too bad. How’d things go with Leon and Manboy?” You asked. He wasn’t ready to talk about last night and that was okay. For now.

Franklin leaned forward and rubbed his hands together, a grimace on his face. He avoided looking at you so he probably wasn’t going to tell the whole truth. Must be really bad. You knew he sometimes had to do things he wasn’t proud of. Things that would make his mama cry if she really knew.

You weren’t so cavalier about the things he did but you understood him. Growing up in the hood like you both did, it was a desolate wasteland sometimes. It felt like there was a giant hand on your neck, keeping you down no matter how hard you worked to get out from under it. Franklin was only trying to even the playing field.

“I’m so sick of trying to get niggas to act right,” Franklin said. He stood up, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles.

You grimaced. Maybe you shouldn’t have mentioned anything. “Leon so fucking busy worrying about Wanda, Manboy got the Crips on lock in Compton and Leon pushing in. Like cats and fuckin’ dogs with these niggas!” He yelled.

You stayed quiet and let him vent. He was even more wound up than you thought. Had you ever seen him so worked up? It’d been so long since he was home long enough to have an actual conversation. Mostly, you talked in between his meetings and goings on. He’d page you and you’d find a few minutes to hurry and call before he scooted off again.

Matter of fact, it’d been quite some time since you had your legs wrapped around his waist. You felt bad, but as he spoke, you stared at his frame. At the hard lean to his shoulders when he was truly pissed. Sometimes, his walk turned you on more than his words ever could.

You stood up, halting Franklin in his tracks. His eyes dropped down to your titties, but you took his hand. You silently led him to the couch, making him sit back down. “You’re stressed,” you said.

Franklin opened his mouth, but you placed a finger over his lips. “You’re stressed and running around with too much responsibility. Too many things on your mind, baby,” you said.

He sighed and finally nodded, seeming to deflate completely. You moved your hand under his chin and lifted it. You planted a kiss to his lips. He groaned, leaning in to deepen the kiss. You pulled away, kissed his cheek, and leaned down to his ear. “I know how to get your mind right,” you softly sang.

“What you got in mind?” He asked.

You smirked and sank to your knees in front of the couch. You eyed him as you went for his zipper and pulled. You moved his jeans and briefs down, until his hardening dick sprang free. You moaned at the sight of it, biting your lip as if you could already taste the salty taste of him.

You lowered your mouth on him, taking your time to work him all the way in. He groaned as your mouth took as much of him as you could. You swirled your tongue around his shaft and then around his tip. Pre-cum leaked into your mouth and you moaned, swallowing him down.

“Fuck,” he sighed. He gathered up your braids into a tight ponytail.

“You need some relief baby?” You asked around his dick.

Franklin’s eyes were locked on yours. On the way that you smiled at him while sucking him back down. He nodded and pushed your head further. You slobbered on his dick, coating him with your saliva. Your wet, loud sucking battled with the fan blowing hot air across your back.

Franklin slowly pulled you by your hair up and down and kept his eyes locked on his disappearing length inside of you. You let him go with a wet plop and then bit his thigh. He hissed and gave you a wild look.

“I won’t break Franklin, you know that. You need some real relief? Fuck me then,” you said, giving him a challenging look. You dared him with your eyes.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said. But his eyes were growing wider, breathing in creasing. Sweat made his dark skin glisten.

You licked him from his balls to the tip of his shaft and he gasped. “You won’t,” you said.

Franklin grinned and shook his head. “Fuck I do to deserve you, huh?” He asked.

He didn’t give you a chance to respond. He licked his lips slowly, grabbed your braids tighter, and then pushed you down on his dick. He groaned, yelling a bit, as he fucked your mouth how he needed. You planted your hands on his thighs to brace yourself and settled in for the ride.

You couldn’t resist teasing his tip whenever it ran past your lips. More pre-cum leaked into your mouth and you slurped that up. Drool spilled down your chin. You ran your tongue underneath his dick, tracing the hint of vein there. Franklin pushed his hips forward.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum,” he muttered. Not a second later, he shoved your head down and exploded in your mouth. His dick pulsed with hot cum shooting down your throat. You swallowed every last drop, breathing heavily.

Franklin threw his head back with a groan, ragged gasps escaping him. He was so damn hot after he came. When his lips parted and his eyes were closed. That throat of his. His heaving breaths making his chest rise and fall so rapidly.

You wiped your mouth clear of lingering drool. You moved to stand up, but Franklin caught your movement. He snatched you about the waist, and shoved your shorts and panties down. He pulled you onto his lap while he shoved his own pants down, further down his long legs.

You straddled him and he moved his fingers to tease your clit. “You wet for me?” He asked. His voice was low and husky, sending tingles down your spine.

“Yes, baby,” you said. Sucking him off made you so unbearably wet. Perhaps it wasn’t just him that needed stress relief. Being so worried about him caused its own little bubble of frustration.

His thumb traced circles around your clit while he captured your lips with his own. He kissed you like you supplied the oxygen he needed to survive. He nipped at your bottom lip before diving in for more. His other hand gripped your hip. Fingers digging in for purchase.

You moaned into his lips. His finger worked magic on your pussy, pulling you closer and closer to the height of pleasure. Dripping onto his thighs, he moved his finger and circled his tip with your juices.

He rubbed his dick between your wet folds, gathering enough of your slick to push in without hurting you. You hissed as he breached your entrance. He kissed your neck, then down to your chest. He licked your nipple and then suckled it.

“Oh-Oh fuck,” you moaned. The sweet bite of pain relaxed you enough to allow him inside. He pushed in deeper, working his hips until he was sliding in and out of you with ease. Your forehead dropped against his as you rode him.

“Fuuck,” he moaned. Your breaths co-mingled, absorbed each other by being pressed chest to chest. Your sweat made you glide against his chest, his shirt the only barrier. You stole kisses in between moans, but you were too blissed out to stay connected for long.

Franklin’s hands moved up to rub up and down your back and you sighed. You kissed his forehead. You were a hot mess at the moment. The smell of sex heavy and thick in the air. You didn’t care. He felt so good inside you. Like home. Like the most sinful heaven. Like sweet hell.

Franklin pulled out and you groaned. You instantly missed him. He placed you on the couch and he stood up. He grinned and pulled off his shirt. He soaked through it with sweat. He kicked off his pants, leaving him in his naked glory.

You admired the length of his body, licking your lips at the sheer beauty of him. He pulled your hips and flipped you over. You got to your knees, placing your hands over the back of the couch for leverage.

He grabbed your hips and shoved in with a low, rumbling moan. “Oh fuck!” You screamed. You gripped the back of the couch, nails digging in while he hit it from the back with a bruising, punishing pace.

Your ass smacked on his thighs and he grunted with every stroke. “Oh fuck, fuck that pussy, baby,” you moaned. “Beat this pussy up!”

Franklin groaned, seeming to go deeper or stroke harder according to your demands. “Needed this. Needed you,” he croaked.

“Needed you tooooo,” you moaned. You dropped your sweaty forehead to your forearm, indescribable pleasure overtaking your whole body. Like you were weightless. Jointless. Like you could fall apart at any moment and his dick could stitch you back together.

“Niggas don’t fuckin’ listen. But you do, don’t you baby?” Franklin asked.

“Yes, baby, I listen,” you cried out, nodding though you weren’t sure if he could see it. He grabbed hold of your braids again, yanking your head back. Your back bowed as he entered at a new angle, dragging the tip of him across a deep, sweet spot that made you scream.

You came, body and limbs shaking uncontrollably. Franklin continued to pound inside of you, grunting and oblivious that your world was splitting apart atom by atom.

“Oh fuck, baby. This pussy yours, baby,” you managed to eke out in between moans.

That lit a fire under Franklin. His fingers gripped your sides harder, his strokes got deeper, and his moans bounced off of the walls. He growled as he came, hot, pulsing jets of cum that stuffed you to the brim.

Your legs turned to jelly and you collapsed across the back of the couch. Franklin’s quick breaths fanned across your back. Your body still shivered, aftershocks from such a rough and deeply satisfying fuck.

Franklin’s hips stilled deep inside, keeping you plugged up with his cum. He dropped forward, pushing you into the couch. You looked back at him and he smiled sloppily at you.

“You know just how to take care of me,” he whispered.

You smiled, groaning as he slipped out. His cum slipped out after and he disappeared from behind you. You heard water running and then he was back, wiping you down with a cool washcloth.

You sighed as the cool cloth hit your overheated skin. When he was done, he plopped the towel onto the coffee table and then joined you on the couch. Despite the heat, you burrowed into his embrace, throwing your legs over his.

He rubbed your arm while you played with the tiny hairs on his thighs. He kissed your forehead. “Fuckin’ love the shit outta you,” he said.

You leaned up to look at him in his beautiful eyes. “Love the shit outta you too.”

Plenty more of Franklin to go around! The Secret Franklin Saint Files

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honeycombstrawberry · 3 years ago

Text

borderline crazy

pairing: adrian chase x reader (gn pronouns, gn sex descriptions)

rating: e+

word count: 4,697

warnings: putting a warnings label on this one right here!! right up top!! i am telling you right now that this is a sexually explicit story that features consensual sex in which the participants have consensually agreed prior to the events of the story to a stalking and home intrusion roleplay with one another. everything here is pre-established, agreed-upon, consensual roleplay sex. if you do not like this, please do not read this. i am warning you here. it is your responsibility to take care of yourself when reading.

one-sentence synopsis: someone with impure intentions is following you home tonight.

prompts: "i know you like possessive adrian so are you interested in stalker!adrian ?? i think he seems like the type to follow you home for ‘protection’ and maybe some more :D" (anonymous) and "may i make a request for adrian and how he does aftercares with reader🥺 bet he'll be all smiley and grinning like an idiot the whole time and be really soft on you like melted mush and just basking in each other's afterglow ahh im already thinking about how you're gonna write this and i just know you'll nail and kill it right on the head thank u darling mwuahh" (anonymous)

author's note: whew okay i put a lot of warnings up there but i just want to make sure everybody is taking care of themselves!! please take care of yourself!! and if you're still here i hope you enjoy this story!!

read on ao3!

You know you can hear someone behind you.

Under different circumstances, you wouldn’t care about this. Right now, though, you can’t help feeling more than a little unsettled.

You’d spent most of the night hanging out with the 11th Street Kids. You’d finished a mission the day before, so after resting all night— and, honestly, most of today— you’d all gathered back at your favorite local bar to actually just hang out and enjoy some non-violent time together.

By the time Leota had tapped out, it was nearly one o’clock in the morning. That had just started a chain reaction of everyone deciding to go home, until it was just you and Adrian left behind. You had stared at each other over the tabletop, for a beat, once the last person— Chris— had left. The way Adrian had been looking at you was so impossibly heated, it made your cheeks flush.

“I should probably start heading out, too,” you had told him. You picked up your drink, stirring the tiny straw through the remains of liquid and ice; you could feel him tracking your every moment.

Adrian’s eyes flicked up to your face, locking on your eyes for a moment before they’d snapped away again, down to his hands. He nodded jerkily, saying, “Yeah, okay,” then hesitantly adding, “I— This was really nice. I like hanging out with you.”

You had to fight back the smile that started to rise automatically at that. You’re always so impossibly endeared by him. Even in that moment, he had been unable to stop trying to be warm towards you.

“I like hanging out with you, too,” you had said. You could feel the joy in your voice, and you tried to fight it back down, to make it less obvious. That’s not part of the little game you play.

Adrian had looked at you, then away again, hands drumming against his thighs under the table. He had been practically vibrating with energy before he pushed back abruptly, his chair screeching on the floor even in the cacophony of noise of the bar.

“I’m gonna head out, too,” Adrian had told you in a rush. “I just— I got— I gotta— I’m gonna go.”

“Okay,” you replied. You had leaned back in your chair, given him a little wave. “I’m going to finish my drink before I head out.”

He paused then, watching you for a moment. You looked up to him standing beside the table.

“See you later, Adrian,” you added, prompting him to blink and look away from the rim of your glass, flickering up to your face again.

There had been a faint flush across his cheeks, bleeding up his ears, and then he smiled. It was just a quick flash, there and gone, but it set off such a sharp and unexpected spike of feeling that sparked up your spine like a shock that you think you still feel it even now.

“See you,” he had echoed. You’d given him a little wave, and his face flushed a bit further before he was diving back through the people around you to leave.

You watched him push through the front door of the place, disappearing into the warm darkness beyond. For your part, you had done as you said you were going to do, finishing your drink before you gathered your things. Everyone already paid before they left, so you just headed out, shouldering open the same door you had only just seen Adrian leave through.

And then you were walking home, which is when you realized you could hear someone behind you.

And here you are now.

The night is warm, but your skin still prickles, responding to the eyes that you can feel scraping over you. When you chance a look back over your shoulder, you don’t see anything. There are only buildings, and parking meters, and streetlamps, and a cat that darts from one side of the street to the other like a bolt of grey lightning.

You hesitate, watching for movement, but nothing else happens. You turn back around, picking up your pace a little bit.

Behind you, you swear, you can hear what sounds like the occasional shuffling slide of a footstep, or the drag of some material over what could maybe be stone. It doesn’t make perfect sense, what you’re hearing— unless somebody is following you. Your hands prick, palms growing slick with sweat as your heart jumps up into your throat.

Though you keep walking, it feels as though the pace of the person behind you never shifts. They don’t try to speed up to catch you, nor do they ever appear to follow back. Based on what you’re hearing, they might be keeping pace with you.

A twist of anticipation starts curling up in your belly. You’re not sure if someone’s going to try something, but you’re getting close to home. If something was going to happen out here, they’re running out of chances to do whatever they want that to be.

You can see your building up ahead. You fish your keys out of your bag preemptively, already ready to go once you get there.

The nearer you get to your place, though, the faster the footsteps seem to move. It’s like they know they’re running out of time, and they’re increasing their speed to compensate.

Your heart is starting to truly hammer in your chest. You have to force yourself to try and keep your pace even, not letting yourself break into a run. You know that’ll only draw attention to yourself. You’re so close to home. If you can get on the other side of the locked door, there’s not much they can do.

You get to your front steps and you’re already pushing the key into the lock. The moment you have to stop to actually put the key in, and unlock it, and twist the knob, seems like it takes fucking forever.

Your sweat-slick palm slips on the knob. You inhale shakily, then try again, pushing in quickly. You rush inside, pushing the door quickly shut behind you, clutching your keys to your chest. You don’t hesitate to reach down and lock the door.

Good luck, you think to the person on the other side of the door.

Now that you’re safely inside, you let yourself take a minute to actually calm down. Though you listen for activity on the other side of the door, you don’t hear anything.

Believing, now, that they didn’t come all the way up to your front door, you push away from it to head for your bedroom instead. You nudge aside dropped armor pieces near the bed on your path there. Flopping down in the middle of it, you pry your shoes off, letting them fall to the ground.

You’re tired, but not really sleepy. You slept most of last night and today; you’ll probably end up falling asleep later, but you’re not there yet.

You glance over at your nightstand. Reaching out, you push aside a spare pair of glasses to find your phone charger and plug your phone in, setting it aside on the tabletop. Your blood’s still thrumming, really— the rush of your trip home has just left adrenaline in your body, and your system had already been pumping overtime after the night you had.

Thinking back on Adrian sitting across from you all night, you can’t help shifting slightly in bed. Your hips move just a bit of their own accord. You press your thighs together, just a tiny bit, to feel a little bit of friction.

It’s easy, instinctive, for you to reach for the button on your pants. You ease it open, drag your zipper down. When you slip your hand past the waistband of your underwear and down, between your thighs, a breath punches hard up out of your lungs, your back arching slightly up as you shift your hips to get a better angle on yourself.

When you tilt your head back and close your eyes, you can see Adrian in the darkness you engulf yourself in. It’s an ambiguous shape, for a moment, before it becomes him, and then it’s him between your thighs, his dark head of hair against your soft skin as he bites at the inside of your thigh.

Even the fantasy of it gets your heart jolting, and your chest aches as your back arches again, your hand starting to move faster on yourself. There’s sweat prickling on your skin, and you think about him, and the race of your adrenaline and the pound of your heart and the thud of your pulse work in tandem with the coiling heat inside you, deep in your gut, gathering between your legs, in your core.

Your breathing is getting shaky, and you can’t help the soft noise that comes up when you feel a pulse of feeling rocket through you. In your mind, you see Adrian lifting his head to look at you, his bright eyes meeting yours.

You can’t help it; his name falls from your mouth, a disjointed moan that comes out in broken sounds, just— “Adrian,” into the darkness and wet near-silence of your bedroom.

There’s a response. A corresponding sound, a low moan that’s not a word but just a sound, unbidden and automatic. Your eyes fly open, and you look up to find a glint of red in the shadows on the fire escape outside your window.

You freeze. Your heart is thundering in your chest, shocked heat spooling inside as your system frantically attempts to respond.

The glint of red moves closer, and you can see more details, then: the glint is a strip, the red band of Vigilante’s mask, and the rest of his suit comes into view within moments. You watch with your heart practically in your throat as he pushes open your unlocked window, easing the glass upwards. He does it so surely, so easily, pushing it with his shoulder. His armor’s unfastened, you can tell, and his cock is fucking out, even though his gloves are still on.

“Adrian,” you breathe, watching him climb through your window. His name comes out almost like it had in the moments before, when it fell out of your mouth. “What did you—”

“All of it,” he tells you. He slides the window shut behind himself. This time, he locks the latch, shoving it into place until you hear it click. When he turns to look at you again, mask still in place, you can’t find his eyes, the lamplight too low for that kind of visibility for you. “You shouldn’t walk home alone at night.”

Your heart picks up impossibly faster. “Nothing bad happened—”

“Yet,” Adrian interrupts you.

It’s hard to think of him as Adrian when he’s like this, concealed and hidden away, but impossible to think of him as anyone else. Even as Vigilante, he’s more recognizable to you than anyone else on this planet. You think your stupid heart might even be in love with him.

“You don’t know what kind of maniacs might be out at night,” Adrian continues. He takes a step closer, predatory. His head tilts down, tracking over you as he observes your hand still down the front of your pants, though still unmoving in your surprise, frozen mid-motion. “Or… Maybe you do.”

Your face flushes. You can feel the heat rising up from your chest, soaring up your face. You watch Adrian track its motion, the flood as it swells upwards.

“Were you watching me?” you ask him, voice soft.

Adrian takes another step closer, then another, until he’s stopped beside the bed, head tilted as he studies you. His gloved hand returns to his cock, drawing your attention back down to it. Your lips part unconsciously, slipping open.

“Yeah,” Adrian says. “But, to be honest, I’m really never not watching you.”

You can’t slow the galloping thud of your pulse, heart climbing into the back of your mouth. You watch with a twist of anticipation curling inside you as Adrian climbs up onto his knees on the bed, shifting until he can kneel up over you like that. He moves one leg over yours, brackets your thighs with his knees. His heavy cock is still in his hand, stroking upwards.

The band of red that makes up Adrian’s vision doesn’t stop moving over you, taking you in as he keeps fucking his own hand.

“What do you mean?” you breathe, and Adrian drops down instantly, his free hand slamming down on the pillows beside your head to brace him above you.

“I mean,” Adrian tells you, “that you should pay more attention, because you never know who’s there.” He breaks off a small noise when he twists his wrist, changing the angle on his own cock, a breath punching out of him. “Or why they’re there. There’s some real sickos out there who would do pretty much anything to get their hands on you.”

Your heart is in your throat as he shoves back upwards, his gloved hand coming to drag down your front. He thumbs roughly over your nipple through your shirt, then reaches to push the fabric up, letting it bunch past your chest so he can get full access to your skin. His gloved hand drags, the seams catching on your flesh, and you bite off a sharp noise at the friction of it, your eyes burning.

“Like you?” you ask him breathlessly.

His visor tilts up again, connects with your eyes.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Like me.”

He reaches to grab your pants and yank them down to your knees. His hand spreads your legs, takes one thigh and pushes it away so he can fit himself between your knees. With his cock in his hand, he finds where you’ve been touching yourself, running his gloved fingertips over your entrance.

“But you were thinking about me,” Adrian says, a question at the edge of his voice. “Like you knew I was there.”

You huff a laugh, even as Adrian grabs your wrist so he can drag your hand away from yourself. You whine softly, and he shoves your hand upward, pins it against the pillows.

“Stop it,” he instructs you. “You don’t know how to take care of yourself. That’s why I have to do it for you all the fucking time.”

You start to ask, “Wh—” but he’s lining his cock up with your entrance, then, and pushing in, and everything in your lungs flies out of it. Your hands reach up, grasping at nothing before you find the back of his mask and start pulling at it, but he snatches both of your wrists again and slams them down.

“You don’t look over your fucking shoulder when you walk home,” Adrian all but growls at you. “You don’t carry a knife in your pocket, you don’t even keep your keys in your fist. Do you want to stay alive?”

“I can handle whatever comes at—” you start to argue with him. He cuts you off by pushing the rest of the way into you, sheathing himself inside you, his hips meeting yours, the fabric of his armor and his suit scraping your bare skin. “Ahh, fuck, Adrian—”

His hand gentles over your hair, thick gloved fingers stroking through the strands before it glides down the slick, sweaty side of your face. He slips down further, letting his hand slide until he’s wrapped around your throat.

He increases his pressure, there, tightening as he observes you, his head tilted. His cock pulses inside you, impossibly thick and searing hot, and your back arches up, pushing closer into him.

“I know you’ll keep me safe,” you tell him, voice strained, thin.

Adrian must make some face behind the mask, a twist of his mouth, before he’s dropping down. His masked lips shift against your ear, grazing the shell of it as he asks you, “And what if I’m what you need to be kept safe from?”

Goosebumps break out all over your skin. Your heart catches in your throat, and Adrian tightens his grip until he can feel it beneath his fingers, your rabbiting pulse thick under his grip.

“Then I’m fucked,” you tell him, little more than a wheeze.

His grip tightens again, and he laughs, lifting his head.

“Yeah,” he says. “You really are.”

You can almost see him smiling through the mask when he takes your hip in his other hand, shifting to slide most of the way out of you before he’s shoving back in, and then he’s finding his rhythm, a furious throbbing race of desire, his thick cock pounding into you, splitting you open, while his hand around your throat pulls you back together.

His hand finally slips away from your throat when you can’t take a breath inward. His hold loosens, and you suck in a deep breath, chest heaving. Rather than return to your neck, his hand moves instead up to your mouth. He pushes two of his long gloved fingers into your mouth, drawing your lower lip down, taking your teeth and jaw with it. You taste leather when his fingers press to your tongue.

In the next moment, he drags down to your thigh, taking it in a tight hold and jerking it up so he can adjust his angle. Again, you cry out his name without meaning to; again, he responds in kind, his head falling forward until the rough material of his mask meets the soft skin of your forehead.

He leaves a bruise in the meat of your thigh with the force of his grip before he’s grazing up your side to slide behind your back. In an easy movement, all his muscles shifting beneath his armor, he hauls you up into his lap, jerking you upright until you’re sitting on his cock.

The depth and pressures changes, and you get impossibly fuller, as if he’s fucking up into the back of your throat. You reach up and grasp for his mask again, tugging at it, but his hand comes up and snatches your wrist again.

He presses your palm over the place his mouth should be, his breath hot through the mask, dampening the fabric as he pants open-mouthed against it.

“I’m gonna keep you safe,” he promises you. It’s a heavy, loaded promise, for a moment like this, but you’re all the more certain he means it because of that.

To say this is overwhelming would be a fucking understatement, but this also might be one of the most erotic experiences of your life. Leave it to Adrian fucking Chase to awaken something this unhinged inside of you. You think you could do this every night with him until the end of goddamn time, and you’re reasonably certain that anybody you told that to would think you’re an absolute maniac.

Let them, you think wildly. Maybe I am fucking crazy—

Adrian cries out your name again, his upward thrusts into you becoming disjointed, arhythmic, frantic as he loses pace and just needs to take, claiming you in great sweeps of his body, great gusts of heat through yours.

—But so is he, you think, delighted. You let your head fall back, a grin on your face when Adrian mouths at your jaw through the mask, ducking down to bite through the fabric at the blossoming bruises on your throat.

The friction and the movements of Adrian’s body as he fucks into you give you impossible stimulation where you need it most. Even though you’re technically untouched, nobody’s hands on you, you can feel yourself rocketing closer and closer to climax with each roll of his body. You twist to grind into him, winding an arm around his neck to stabilize yourself and find balance when you chase your edge.

Adrian grips the back of your head in his strong hand, stopping you from moving as he traps you against him. Your hips work frantically still, until you’re blazing, falling apart around his cock.

Your head drops, forehead colliding with the hard surface of the armor over his shoulder. Your skin is slick with sweat, sliding along the material when you try to catch your breath, chest heaving against his. You have no control over yourself as your climax seizes your body, whiting out your vision and your thoughts and your mind as a whole. All you are is seething pleasure, writhing in his arms, unable to do anything but feel.

“Oh, fuck,” Adrian breaks off near the hinge of your jaw. He chases his own release, fucking into you without hesitating. He finally reaches up to tear his own mask off; beneath, he’s breathless and red-faced and sweat-slick, unfocused eyes disappearing quickly when he drops in to kiss you roughly.

There’s no rhythm to his kiss, no finesse, but that’s fine, because you’re still shattering through the remnants of your own orgasm and you have no mind for coordination. You let him kiss you sloppy and open-mouthed, a wet mess before he’s dragging his face down. His forehead meets your mouth when he drops down, and then he’s cumming inside you, his hand coming up to grip your hip, stilling you, keeping you in place as he fills you.

You let your lips press a kiss to his forehead, then another, salt and leather on your tongue. His chest is heaving, too, and you’re flooded, warmth that seeps through you and from you.

You can feel his cock inside you, still, when he shifts to draw back. He lifts his head so he can meet your eyes, though he still can’t see well, blurred vision slightly unfocused, eyes not quite lined up with yours.

You reach over to the side table, grabbing his spare pair of glasses and unfolding them for him, slipping them up and onto his face. He huffs a laugh, twisting to kiss you.

“Weirdo,” he says, then says, “Brace yourself, babe,” with his hands on your hips.

You do as he says, but you’re still not ready for him to slip out of you, and you whine when he does. He’s beaming when you look up at him, all flushed-pink face and fever-bright eyes and open-joy delight written in every inch of his expression. It’s such a quick flip from the way he was just acting in the scene you’d been doing, now as it all slips away.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks, stroking his hand up and through your hair. When he realizes his glove is still on, he brings his hand to his mouth to bite the fingertip, tearing the fabric up and off with his teeth. His hand returns, soft skin gliding along your cheek as he strokes it gently before starting to comb through your hair again.

“Good,” you tell him. You stretch, feeling the joints in your back crack and realign. “Mm. Sore.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “Lay down, c��mere, okay—”

“It’s a good sore,” you tell him, but he’s already laying you down in bed, gentling your head down onto the pillows. He separates from you and tugs the blankets up to cover you.

“Lemme go get a—”

“No, don’t,” you ask. You know he’s probably going to offer to clean you up, but you don’t really want that right now. You don’t mind being a bit of a mess for a while longer; it’s part of what you like about all of this. “Will you just— Can you stay here for a while first?”

“Hell yeah,” Adrian agrees eagerly, no hesitation. He’s smiling the entire time he tears his uniform pieces off, tossing them to the ground in a heap of armor and thick material. He makes quick work of what remains of your clothes, sending them to join his own.

It’s part of who you two are, what you two do, these little games you play with each other. You wonder if the rest of the 11th Street Kids might ever catch on. You arrive places together, and you’re always the last to leave. They all know you live together— Hell, they come over to your place at least once a week. They’d probably think it’s strange that you leave separately, though they likely wouldn’t be able to piece together why.

Maybe other people think you’re strange, but you don’t give a shit about other people. This is just about you and Adrian. If you like roleplaying scenes where he stalks you home and breaks in and fucks you in a bed that you woke up that morning sharing, that’s fine. If you like maybe how close to real these scenes are— how Adrian does like following you, how you thrill underneath your skin at the idea of him stalking you through the streets with his one-track mind focused on nothing but claiming you— then that’s fine, too. You do this together; you both love this, love the thrill of it, the edge of it, the possessive power he holds over you when you do things like this together.

If you used your safe word, he would stop. If he used your safe word, you would stop. There’s no questions asked if you do. Tonight, though, everything went perfectly; you can still practically feel him in the back of your throat, contentment radiating through both of you to feed into each other.

“Want me to follow you home tomorrow?” Adrian asks as he’s tugging you back into his arms, climbing under the covers with you.

“Lemme think about it,” you murmur back. He kisses along your neck in soft presses of his lips, barely more than a fluttering touch each time, peppering them everywhere. “I might just wanna stay in and get takeout tomorrow.”

“Mm,” Adrian hums. “We could watch that movie you mentioned, I can find it and rent it.”

“We could always just steal it and stream it,” you point out.

“That is a crime,” Adrian admonishes you, and you laugh, twisting to burrow into him. He’s grinning when he tilts your chin up, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Don’t make me kill you.”

“You can pretend you’re here to murder me next time, if you want,” you suggest cheerfully. Adrian’s turned-up smile glides down your cheek to your chin. He presses a kiss there, too.

“I’ll try,” he says, “But that’ll be a hard one to pull off. I always want to, like— stalk you, at least a little bit. And I definitely always wanna follow you home, but I don’t ever actually want to really, like, kill you kill you.”

You can’t help laughing, reaching up to cover your face. Adrian drags your hand away, kissing your cheek, in the space just under your eye.

“Hopefully we can keep it that way,” you tease him.

“Oh, you could never,” he mumbles, tugging you closer into him. He’s slowly melting into you, his limbs growing heavy as he gets comfortable with you, stroking your hair back from your face. He gets snug against the pillows, then pulls you into him. You shift, and he lets you move until you’re comfortable, his hand hovering just over you so his fingers brush your bare skin or your hair, now and then, as you’re wriggling into place.

The two of you slot together into each other’s empty spaces, tangled from your ankles upwards. You’re half-laying on him, your head on his chest, listening to his heart as it slows from its fast pound into an even, slow, steady beat under your ear.

His fingertips drift up, dragging up your back in a slow, heavy touch. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to the top of your head.

“Love you,” he tells you. You can still feel the curve of his smile. It feels like the warmth of it is radiating through your limbs, spreading from him to you, sweet and slow and thick and warm, a syrup that swallows you.

“Love you,” you murmur back, tilting up to catch him in a proper kiss. It’s soft, and he can’t stop smiling, cupping your cheek, his thumb sweeping along your skin.

adrian chase taglist:

@violetrainbow412-blog @bigassbisaster @amysuemc @sunflowerfive @papitas-con-sal @saturnngal @neptuneswritingwork @jewishdelis @myguiltypleasures21 @pinkygunslingy @violinchick @r3tr0sp3ct @chaseadrian @breathing-in-waves @rishlurh @x-milf-hunter-x @goblynnrockz @theowritesstuff @jaysfav @themartiansdaughter @dallasvakarian @missscarlettangel @pieriinova @samantha24015 @hillaryroadheadcllinton @ohmybubbletea @buckys-estrella @witchywcmans @ladyrebel25

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krabstick32 · 4 years ago

Text

Girl Code

Pairing: Giyuu x Reader

Synopsis: Having crushes are hard. Especially when your best friend and the person you like seem to be hitting it off.

Tags/warnings: very very very light angst, mostly fluff uwu

a/n: first of all, happy new year! school got reaaaal busy, so whew! it’s been a while! not gonna lie, I really missed writing stuff! I got a few days worth of break, so hopefully I get to finish a few backlogged reqs. (I think I only have two left, but to those two, I sincerely apologize for the wait! I’m planning to write them as headcanons to get them out faster, so I hope you don’t mind!)

to @aliaisreal, thank you so much for requesting and being so patient with me 🥺 i apologize in advance if it’s not very good :(( it’s not my best work, but I hope you still enjoy it and that it’s somehow worth the wait^^

Link to the ask: Request by @aliaisreal

As the Insect Pillar, and the successor of the Butterfly Estate, Shinobu Kocho was one busy woman. She has a lot of responsibilities on her plate such as slaying demons, concocting medicine, and the like, so it was safe to say that she had no time to babysit anyone but—

“Shinobu!” The door bursts open and one of her… self-appointed responsibilities come prancing right through the threshold. “How about we go out to the village and have some lunch, hmm? My treat!”

Even if her skin felt like it almost flew off in shock, her smile stayed the same as she arranged the papers she intentionally threw around her desk when you came barging through the door. It wasn’t like you immediately coming in shocked her or anything. No, not at all. “Hello to you too, (F/N). Not that I particularly mind, but why so sudden?”

At that, your cheeks turn an adorable shade of red. In your excitement to invite her out to eat, you forgot to greet her first. “Ah, hello. But, back to the topic of lunch!”

Shinobu didn’t really change the topic, but she waved a hand as an indication for you to continue.

“Well, you seem stressed lately. I was hoping to treat you out y’know? And then you could rant and tell me all about it—only if you want to of course, no pressure at all!”

She sighed. For the past few days, Shinobu was starting to get a little frustrated with the current medicine she was trying to make work. On top of that, she needed to handle so many other things, and do missions, check in on patients, cook—well, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but it was starting to get on her nerves.

It was no surprise that you were starting to notice because even if you seemed a little too enthusiastic at times, you were still her best friend and a pillar at that—you wouldn’t be here without being exceptionally skilled and observant. Overenthusiasm aside, she—and everybody else included—knew you meant well.

“I don’t know,” She hums, excited to see how you’ll react. “Are you done with your portion of the work? You looked a little distracted earlier, what with Tomioka-san—“

With the mention of the water pillar’s name, your sweet closed eyed smile turned sour as you immediately placed your hands on her mouth to stop her from continuing that sentence. “Y-Yeah! Yeah, I’m done! You know I don’t slack off. All the patients are fine and I've stitched up the few whose wounds opened.”

She was just teasing. Shinobu was well aware of your skill and work ethic, and while Shinobu was gifted in medicine, particularly pharmaceuticals, you had an uncanny knack for cutting people apart, and stitching them back up again. You were as skilled with a scalpel as you were with a sword.

“I’m just teasing (F/N)-chan.” The Insect Pillar replied, and couldn’t help but want to push more of your buttons as your face seemed to relax at the thought that she wouldn’t mention a particular someone. “But are you sure you’d rather invite me? I’m sure you’d rather ask Tomio—“

If your face was pink before, you were absolutely glowing right now as you put back your hand on top of her mouth. “Shinobu! You know I...you know I don’t like him like that! Besides, I am positive he likes someone else.”

She shrugs your hands off—which were slightly clammy, ew— as she shows you a devilish smile that has you sweating more. “Lie all you’d like, but I don’t think that’s something someone who ‘doesn’t like him like that’ would say, don’t you think?”

Ah, teasing was fun, but teasing you and tomioka were one of the few pleasures in life she made sure to enjoy.

“...Stop teasing me or I will eat without you.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go to that ramen shop in the village.”

Everyone didn’t give the great Inosuke-sama enough credit!

He was raised by boars, grew up in the wild, and treated the mountains like his home. Insouke may have lacked skill in what society normally taught, like proper etiquette, and reading, but the wild was a great teacher on its own, and taught him things he wouldn’t have learned in the company of other humans.

Spending his entire life out in the wild, Inosuke was able to learn how to heighten his senses, particularly his sense of touch, and how to observe. He may have been clueless in the socially acceptable ways to voice out what he sees, what he feels, but Inosuke is perceptive, and that’s what people normally wouldn’t associate with someone who was as stubborn as a rock, and as brash as a beast.

Inosuke—and Kentaro, Nezuko, and Monitsu for that matter—usually spent their time at the butterfly estate. The three of them—mostly Tontaro, really—helped the girls. Cooking, laundry, cleaning, lifting heavy things, were simple chores that they did, and afterwards, Inosuke would often find himself looking for you and Shinobu.

He always felt this...fuwa-fuwa feeling around the two of you, and he thought both of you were like that Gengoro, his sister, and reluctantly Chuitsu.

There was a day where Shinobu was out on a mission, leaving you partially in charge of the butterfly estate, and spending some time with Inosuke. Personally, you found Inosuke to be interesting due to his origins, and overall, he was fun to be around with. Surprisingly, both of you really complimented each other despite being both huge balls of energy and enthusiasm.

That day, you and him were having a little spar by one of the yards around the estate. To an outsider, it was absolutely funny seeing him, who had a more built body compared to your lithe frame, getting thrown off and beaten to a pulp with a wooden stick. If Shuitzu were here to see the spar, he would be laughing his ass off in that pissy, slightly disgusting high-pitched tone at the many times Inosuke was thrown down. Manchiro would probably observe though, and would probably encourage him that he could beat you one day while helping him with his wounds.

Contrary to popular belief though, Inosuke was well aware he couldn’t beat you, at least not yet. Regardless of the way you looked, he could feel it in his skin that you were a formidable opponent who could easily break his bones if you wanted. Seeing your strength for himself was an opportunity he saw where he could get stronger, even if it did frustrate him a little. Or a lot.

“The great Inosuke demands a rematch! A rematch!”he demands, fussing against the ground as you lower your sword and stand up straight from your last breathing form.

“Ahaha, okay, okay! But I’m feeling a little tired…” you pause and place a hand on your chin with a thoughtful look. In a few seconds, you snap your fingers and turn back to him with a bright smile. “Ah! How about we take a break first? Then you could go back to handing me my butt?”

Inosuke knew you weren’t tired and that technically, you were the one handing him his ass. You weren’t heaving a lung out like he was, or sweating bullets. You were the picture of calm and collected, pristine like untouched snow, without a hair out of place.

Inosuke huffs and pushes himself off the ground. “Fine! Insouke-sama permits it!”

“Wonderful! Wait here.” You chirp and pad back into the butterfly estate, leaving Inosuke to unceremoniously plop back down to the ground.

A few minutes pass, and he feels his skin tingle—someone was here, but they didn’t seem to have any malicious intent. It would have felt different if there was.

He looks up from his spot on the ground and spots the hanhan baori guy, his face looking the same as it did the past few times Inosuke saw it. The odd guy was just passing through the gate when Inosuke pushed himself off the floor, wooden sword pointed between Pochioka’s eyes.

“Hanhan Bao—!”

Before Inosuke would have finished his proclamation to fight, you were back standing at the engawa with a tray of sliced fruit, and bamboo cups filled with cool water. “Inosuke? What’s wro—Giyuu! What brings you here?”

Huh. That was odd.

“(F/N)-san.” Inosuke goes uncharacteristically quiet as his eyes darted between the two of you.

It was completely unmistakable. Hanhan Baori’s mouth moved when you arrived. Inosuke honestly thought Dohioka was a magic statue before this day.

You turn to Inosuke and place the tray in a safe spot. “Here, eat first. I’ll just ask what Giyuu needs, and we can spar right after, ‘kay?”

“‘Kay.”

At his response, you give him a warm smile and pat his head (there was that darned fuwa-fuwa feeling again!). He watches as you and Tapioka move a few meters away, settling underneath the shade of a tree to talk, a bit too far away for him to hear.

He doesn’t think he needs to though, because your body language said it all.

Your face was a little flushed, your smile looked even sweeter. Hanhan baori’s mouth was curling upwards in a smile, and his eyes looked fond. A suspicious combination for someone who he previously thought was a statue up until now. But he digresses. He’s never seen you look so...like this. You smiling wasn’t much of a surprise, but with Pachinko around...it was different, and Tochioka seemed more open to boot. There wasn’t much of a doubt in his mind. There was something between you two. He just couldn’t put a name on it—but there was something. Maybe he should ask Monjiro about it.

He munches on the fruit thoughtfully, watching you smile softly—softer than he’s ever seen—as you seem to answer a question Torioka asked you.

Yep, definitely something up between you and Tomioka.

Maybe he should extend his help. After all, the great Inosuke-sama was the kind ruler of the mountains. Pushing you two along would be a piece of cake.

Shinobu catches you pouting by the window in your joint office. It was adorable, considering how your cheeks were puffed, and your eyebrows were furrowed, but with your personality? Sulking wasn’t like you. “Care to tell me what’s wrong?”

Surprised, you jump and turn to find the Insect Pillar with her ever present smile painted on her face. It seems softer though, kinder. “Huh? No, nothing’s wrong!” You disagree, pushing yourself off the chair and tidying up the papers scattered on your desk.

She watches you with a small knowing smile on her face. “What, didn’t see Tomioka-san today?”

You paused for a moment, imperceptible to any outsider, but to Shinobu, who has spent so much time around you, that momentary lapse in movement was enough of an indicator. “...No.”

Hit the nail right on the head!

“You are a terrible liar (F/N)-chan. I thought the two of you were getting along? Should I go put poison in his tea?”

At her suggestion, you turn back as your skin pales. It was largely concerning how easily Shinobu could do that. “What? No! He did nothing, I swear it!”

“Awfully defensive,” The Insect Pillar snickers, before taking a seat on her chair and turning to you. With you pouting at her, Shinobu is reminded of how fun it was to tease you.

“Shinobu-chan.”

“Teasing.” She raises her hands in a move to placate you. Well, annoying you was fun and all, but she was concerned for you, more so than wanting to piss you off. “Anyway—jokes aside, you know i’m always here for you, right?”

You knew that. She was always willing to listen to your problems, but you couldn’t exactly tell her that you’re trying to distance yourself from Giyuu because he liked her.

Truth be told, you were getting along with Giyuu, so much so that you’ve started to like him as more than a friend. But, you cared for Shinobu and you wanted her to be happy. She and Giyuu made more sense than you and him.

“...Yes.”

“And that I love you like a sister, right?”

Despite all the teasing, you knew Shinobu really cared for you. She may like to push your buttons, but oddly enough, it reminded you of one of your siblings, so you didn’t mind. Just like your relative, you knew they did it because they wanted to distract you from your problems. An odd way of doing it, but they really would have gotten along.

“Yeah.”

“And that I can easily kill a man and hide his body?”

“Shinobu-chan!”

She laughs, the sound very similar to bells, and you can’t help the bitter thought that maybe Giyuu liked someone with a mellow voice like hers. “Kidding! Kidding! Well, kind of on that last one.”

You pout, and she brushes off her statement with a near irresistible bribe. “Alright, how about we go get some food? My treat.”

Awfully tempting. But there was still one more concern in your head.

“No poison?”

“Have more faith in my, (F/N)-chan!” Giggling, Shinobu slides the door open, and beckons you over. “Now, let’s go—I’m sure you’re hungry!”

“You didn’t answer my question!” You say, trailing after her in mild worry, feelings momentarily forgotten as the thought of food replaces it.

It was any other early evening in the butterfly estate when the Water Pillar barged in through the doors, blood dripping from an open wound on his chest, with the oddest expression on his face.

Maybe what should have alarmed the butterfly girls were the deep scratch marks on his chest. Instead, it was the near half-crazed look on his face. Tomioka-san’s face never moved from it’s impassively cold stare, why was now any different?

“Where is she?” He rasps.

Aoi, who was standing at the entrance with Kiyo upon his arrival, was brought out of her shock. “Tomioka-sama, lie down. Kiyo will lead you to a room and I’ll get Shinobu-sama immediately to take care of your wounds.”

“No, where is she? Where’s (F/N)—”

From the end of the hall, you came down to see what all the huff was about. You were taking inventory of the supplies since it was a little slow today, but the ruckus urged you to go out and take a look.

“Giyuu? What’s going on he—ohmygods, Giyuu, are you alright?” Seeing Giyuu pale—well, paler than normal—and bleeding all over the floor was not what you expected though.

“(F/N)...” Seeing her alive and breathing eased Giyuu’s worries, so much so that he sags in relief. He would have dropped down the floor if it weren’t for your quick reflexes.

Lightly, he feels you press a hand to his head, wiping the sweat forming on his brow.

“Giyuu? Stay with me, we’re going to fix you right up, ‘kay?” There was no doubt in his head that you could. He’s been in much worse really. The blood loss just wasn’t doing him any favors.

Regardless, he shakes his head and just savors you being here, warm and alive.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I thought you were dead.”

“Dead? Who, me? No, silly! I just sprained my ankle, so walking’s a little hard, but i’ll be fine!”

“I thought I was going to lose you...” He was starting to babble. The blood loss was starting to affect him more than he’d thought.

“Lose me? Don’t worry, I’m not going away any time soon.”

“Good…” Giyuu breathes out a sigh of relief. He liked the thought of you living for a long, long time. “I like you a lot.”

With that admission, his head slumps over your shoulder, and his body gets heavier, prompting you to nearly drop him with the weight of his sudden confession and his mass.

Aoi and Kiyo watches, shocked beyond words as your face continuously gets redder and redder. Whether it was from the exertion, or his words, well, everyone knew exactly what was causing you to look like a freshly plucked apple.

“H-Hah?! Wait, Giyuu? Giyuu!”

And that is the sight that greets Shinobu. She was back from a report to Oyakata-sama, so seeing you all red and flustered with a fully grown man who was bleeding all over her floor and who was about to fall over and kill you—with his weight, or with his words, Shinobu could easily guess which—was an especially unusual sight, but unfortunately, not really unexpected. And mildly infuriating.

“Tomioka-san, you total dunce! Get treated first! Ugh, (F/N)-chan, don’t let him fall, he’s losing blood!”

“Ow—“ Giyuu grunts, the bandage being wrapped around his torso a little too tight for his taste.

“Tomioka-san.” Shinobu starts, her hands continuously steady as she wraps the bandages with precision and efficiency around his chest. “I don’t think we’ve had a heart to heart chat about (F/N)-chan, don’t you think?”

After Giyuu’s surprise confession, you and Shinobu were able to drag him to a nearby room. He was passed out cold, and between you two, carrying a fully grown man would still be difficult, even if you’ve both had special pillar training.

He woke up a few minutes after you were done stitching the open gash at his stomach which caused his bloodloss (and slightly embarassing fainting spell). These unfortunate series of events have led him here, painfully being bandaged by none other than Shinobu. It wold have been nice if you were the one doing it, but Shinobu sent you to go look for more bandages with this sickly sweet look in her eyes—which you barely noticed in your worry. The worry was sweet, but now he knows Shinobu’s motives. Interrogstion.

Giyuu could do nothing else but nod, doing his damn best to not flinch, and keep still.

“You see, she really likes you, you know? I’ve never seen (F/N)-chan happier than she is when she’s with you. Honestly, I don’t know why she does, and what she sees in you but I like seeing her happy. You and I both know that she deserves it.”

Giyuu watches her wrap the bandages with practiced ease albeit with a little more force than necessary. Hearing Shinobu talk about you so fondly has him feeling grateful that you had someone who cared so deeply for you, and who was so willing to do anything to keep you happy. Even if the brunt of her attacks did fall on him, he could understand where she was coming from.

“She does,” Giyuu says, surprising Shinobu as she finds the softest, most fondest look she has ever seen on Giyuu’s immovable face. For a moment, Shinobu could see that he cared so much for you—as much, if not more than you cared for him—and she knew that he would never do anything to hurt you.

Unbelievable. She can’t believe he passed her test so easily.

She lets out a heavy sigh, turning back to the task at hand with a saccharine smile ready on her face.

“All that said, If you hurt any part of who I see as my beloved sister, I'll make sure to use my medical expertise to ensure you don’t get a chance to spread your genes—”

The door slides open with a nice loud clack, preventing Giyuu from hearing the rest of Shinobu’s sentence. Just as well too. He doesn’t think he’d want to hear the rest.

“Shinobu-chan! I’ve got more bandages for Giyuu!”

“Ah, thank you, (F/N)-chan!” The Insect Pillar smiles, taking one of the fresh bundles you offered, as you moved to the side of the room, arranging the medical supplies for easier access.

Shinobu leans down, under the guise of tying the gauze, as you flit around the room, spreading sunshine in your trails. None of you mention how you blatantly avoid eye contact with Giyuu. But it’s not like he’s initiating any either.

“I don’t think I need to continue my sentence.” She mumbles under her breath. “Do you understand?”

Giyuu winces as she tucks in another piece of bandage, grumbling in response. “Loud and clear.”

BONUS:

Later that night, Shinobu left the two of you alone in Giyuu’s hospital room to talk it out. It was a little awkward at first, but as the two of you melt the ice, your usual sunny personalty—ironic, as you were the Snow Pillar—takes over. Throughout the course of the evening, you take out his hand with his permission, and have the time of your life holding it. It was a little funny how stiff and unused he was being at hand holding, but you found that to be one of his unexpected charms. And it wasn’t like he was complaining. He actually found it adorable how small your hands were, and how it fit really well against his own.

“So you don’t like Shinobu?” You ask a little shyly, playing with the tips of his fingers.

Against your skin, you feel him shiver in disgust as he looks slighty disgusted by question. “Gods, no, never.”

“So you were serious about liking me? It wasn’t a joke?”

“I don’t think I’d joke about that in my final moments.”

You giggle, feeling a little silly for even questioning it. But really, you don’t think you could be blamed for it. “You have a point.”

The two of you stay in comfortable silence for a while. He watches you trace vague shapes against his palms and he’s never felt so at peace before, than he did at this moment. After a while though, a curious thought strikes him, and he can’t help but want to ask.

“...What made you think that?”

The tips of your ears stain pink before you look away and bring one hand to your cheek. “Well I thought you two liked each other, and it seemed like she suited you much better than I would.”

“I only ever liked you. I thought I was being obvious.”

As blunt as ever.

“Ahaha!” You laughed, getting flustered in spite of the warmth pooling into your chest. “Well, I guess not enough for me.” It’s not as if you were able to notice. You did think he liked Shinobu after all. “By the way, why did you think I was going to die?”

He look up at the ceiling. “One of Tanjirou’s friends...that boar kid told me you couldn’t walk, and that you couldn’t move.”

“Inosuke? Oh, that…that actually makes a lot of—a lot of s-sense!”

Giyuu watches you fondly as you laugh. In your defense, the thought of you spraining your ankle being blown out of proportion by none other than Inosuke was funnier than you ever expected.

“Don’t laugh.” Giyuu pouts. It was the most adorable thing you’ve seen. “By the way he said it, I really thought you weren’t going to live to see another day.”

You breather deeply, giggling a little as you look at him with mirth and happiness dancing in your eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll explain it to him tomorrow. But I guess I should thank him. If you weren’t nearly half-dead on your feet, neither of us would have confessed.”

“Yeah. I‘ll go with you.”

“Cool! Cool...Um, Giyuu?”

“Yes?”

“Could you maybe… perhaps, say that again?”

“Say what, again?”

“That you like me?”

Giyuu chuckles, giving your hand a light squeeze. “I like you.”

He’d say it a million more times if he gets to see you smile like that again.

“Heehee, I like you too Giyuu!”

a/n: i got a little sick of rereading this so many times, so, apologies for any grammar/spelling mistakes!! i hope ya’ll liked it though uwu

also, are any of you playing genshin impact? man, that game saved my sanity, and at the same time caused more insanity....it’s fun.

if u guys wanna play, feel free to send me your uid’s! i’m at world level 6 so i can go into most worlds :^)

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dannyboyzone · 4 years ago

Text

Writing rules 101 by Kin

Intro;

Everybody has their own writing style, and you absolutely don't have to listen to me. This is only posted for two reasons, one being that I might not have the mental strenght to post request for 2 or 3 days due to personal reasons, the other one being hey, someone might find this useful.

It's not to nag though, it's more for fun and I am open to respectful critism.

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The first one that's the most important one is - In my eyes at least - that you should absolutely never write the character doing absolutely nothing.

Start out sentences with someone being in the middle of something, either something big or something small.

Example;

Not that good; Daniel woke up to the sound at his alarm, at 7:30 am and went to brush his teeth.

Alright!; Daniel shifted his gaze from the window back inside his kitchen. It was raining today, he couldn't help but wonder if it was a bad omen, or if his mind is simply trying to mess with him.

He opened the door to reveal his kitchen shelves, putting away the mug he had gotten from Gun that morning.

ex end.

Not only will it give more depth and possibilities for your story, but it will also keep the reader more entertained and in picture with what's happening.

Also, you are less likely to get a writers block.

Please, if possible, do not write in a big text block.

By that, I mean not possible break in between lines at all.

Please try to make a format you are possible with, of what your gut feeling says feels right.

Example;

You could write like this.

I do not follow a possible format, but in my opinion the best format is one or two sentences starters. The next graph being three to five sentences.

It will not only make you more able to focus, and know where you left off but it is also helpful for the readers.

You can, of course add big paragraphs - if they are called that - but! People with certain disabilities, especially reading ones, will be able to pay attention more and not get overwhelmed if you follow the process of 'small text, big text, small text' or one similar to that made by your own. Also, were you aware that people who don't have English as their first language will be able to follow through more like that?!

Well, now you are!

ex end.

" It is not necessary for you to always add who is talking while two people are having a conversation. " said Mira,

" That's right, but that rule only applies if it's obvious who is talking! " Zoe added to the conversation, with a cheerful smile.

Zack leaned back in his chair, holding a hand in front of his mouth as he yawned,

" If you are going to tell them the obvious anyway, just tell them that a sentence which is followed up by a quote should never have a dot but rather a comma. "

" Zack, don't be silly! Everyone knows that! "

" Actually... Some people might not! Let's not be judgemental everyone. " said the brown haired one.

" Pft, that's for beginners tho! "

" Hey!!! Let's also tell them that they can use differences between the people talking instead of their name too! " said his desk mate, as he looked up from the notes on their desk.

Zack leaned his head on Daniel's shoulder, closing his eyes as he made himself comfortable for a nap,

" Yup, especially if there is a pronoun difference. "

Mira turned to Y/n, holding their shoulder,

" Don't feel stressed please! It's alright to make mistakes, and writing is pretty hard anyway! Just follow your own pace! "

Do not add anything that doesn't have a meaning.

Even if it's taking a sip of drink, it should have a meaning.

It's poisoned, dirty, the first step for someone to be healthy, the first drink someone has for survival, holds a significant meaning or It's to provoke someone.

It doesn't matter, as long as it adds something to the story.

If you do not make everything have a meaning that adds depth to the story or the personality of a character you are wasting the time of your reader and could possibly give them false hope.

Though, you don't immediately have to add the meaning of if in the same scene or even same chapter.

Some sentences have multiple meanings depending on which word is pressed down.

Take an example, the sentence

" I never said she stole my money "

has 7 different meanings depending on the word you press down. Just try it out.

So if you might write a sentence with multiple meanings please write the pressed down word in italics.

If you want to say the person didn't steal the money, but someone else did, you would have to write,

" I never said she stole my money "

I hope it's clear with only one example!

Your work is bad because you have read it at least a thousand times, but the people you will publish it to will read it for the first time and you will always have to remember that.

If you want to improve it though, write down everything in your notes, then fully delete it.

You can then open your post tab on your publishing site - like tumblr or something - and start rewriting it.

You will definitely only remember what's necessary in addition to your story.

I personally don't do this, but a lot of people might find it important.

Always do research please, even if things won't always be accurate.

If you do research, less people will be annoyed by the inaccuracy and you will be able to add a lot of things that you couldn't have without them.

Also, you can avoid appropriating cultures and offending different kind of communities that way.

Along side that, please always state if your work will out of character or inaccurate on purpose.

Plus! Checking your spelling errors with a trusted app of yours will never hurt anybody! ♡

If you have a writers block, please either

1. Change the weather; Opens up different kind of possibilities due to clothing, back ground, objects, air and reactions it brings out of others.

2. Add something dramatic; Only do this if it's absolutely necessary, because it could ruin your work. If everything goes right, add something that goes wrong and vice versa. This is only if you want to add angst in your fluff or wise versa.

3. Change the environments and/or the positions the characters are in; It gives a better perspective of the mood and general idea of the topic on hand that you are writing about.

4. Move on to the next scene; You can either leave the scene at that, or write the scene after that which can give you ideas for the one previous to that.

5. Make sure to clean the room you are in; Distractions and environment factors can change the way you feel about writing. Especially if not everything is clean, even if you don't like the mess. Also, drink water.

Never add the end being a dream in longer works.

I don't mean the middle, a twist or a necessity. I mean the absolute end.

It just disappoints people and wastes their time.

10.

If you are writing anything other than romance such as action, horror, thriller ect I would like to say that, romance is not a necessity.

I beg of you, please don't add it if your main focus isn't romance.

Sure, people can have relationships but unnecessary romance rather drives people away than bring in more readers.

If your main focus is romance, please don't immediately make the people fall for each other.

It doesn't necessary have to be enemies or something you don't enjoy, but please remember that no one loves at first sight, and even people with a lot of chemistry can be shy!

Even if you love someone the first day you meet them due to something, it will definitely take a few hours and naivety.

So unless the main point is love at first sight, it's better to build up a relationship bit by bit.

11.

Be diverse with tension levels in scenes!

If a whole work is simply tense, or simply has a normal tone that can be either overwhelming or underwhelming.

For example, if your work is shorter, you can add a tiny moment where someone pouts yet gets cheered up with kisses a bit after.

If it's longer, you can add for example a race scene, which after ending is followed up with a group of friends smiling and having fun at a dinner table. If would not only give more depth to your story, but it could make viewers think and make their own headcanons of your story.

So, in short, please balance your story out. Readers have an easier time to finish a work that's balanced in the course of the same day over works that are over or underwhelming! ♡

12.

Every writer has a word that they might repeat too often. Mine are pronouns, but for others it might be fangs, headband, no, lenght or even cat.

Please try to recognise yours!

If you feel like you are repeating your key word more often than 3 times please rewrite your sentence(s) in a way it's more pleasant.

You will have an easier time writing and your reader won't feel like you are repeating yourself.

Also, you can improve your speech pattern that way. ♡

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Outro;

Whew, that was a lot. Kinda gave me a headache.

Please remember that these are tips and not to put anyone down. I would have just liked to help and make up for the lack of post. - Ouch, parrot much. - I enjoyed writing these, but if anyone got offended I apologise. Hopefully, this won't get ignored since I put a lot of effort in it. 🥲

Thank you for your time! <3

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