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#a very special screw you to you
starblizzard247 · 2 months
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Me, a Yanqing lover since before I started playing HSR, seeing (some) Yanqing haters realize he’s not a horrible character after 2.4:
The grateful part of me: Yay, my boy is getting more love!!!
The spiteful part of me who’s been dealing with their bullcrap for the past 8 months, eye twitching and veins popping:
Thank you for finally seeing the light, you illiterate hive mind of rude *ss blood boiling rage-inducing sh*tstains, F*CK YOU-
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#selfie bee#good evening friends!! how are you doing! C:#I'm very very sleepy I got a new ikea office chair and I build it all myself#I think it went okay! I don't think I pulled the back screw tight enough and now the back is a bit loose#I can probably fix it but I can also ignore it for the next 18 years#thats how long the old chair held up!! in germany it could now drink vodka and drive a car!!#not at the same time that is illegal! not at the same time!! (❁´▽`❁)*✲゚*#but the day is not over yet my uncle asked me for a big art quest and I do not want to disappoint#he wants a muppet tattoo and asked me to draw it#my uncle has started to get tattoos a few months ago#as far as I know he has now gotten 3 note clefs 3 stars a flower and multiple birds#he also started getting piercings but so far I managed not to know exactly where#I think tattoos are super cool (´。・v・。`) I wish I had a good idea for a tattoo but the last time I was very sure about getting a tattoo#it was heath ledgers face as the joker#at that point I was 12 and would not see the actual movie for two more years#a muppet tattoo is a way better idea!! he asked for the count van count! that is also one of my top 3 muppets ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡#I always thought I knew a lot about muppet lore but since I started looking up muppet pictures I think there are still a lot of secrets#can the muppets from the Sesame Street actually leave the Sesame Street?#I think Kermit is both on the Muppet Show and on Sesame Street but he is also like the boss muppet#he might have special abilities#I hope you're having a good day friends!! C:#I think I'll post a Sherlock comic later this week#miss you!! ♥♥♥
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reel-fear · 7 months
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Hey guys, if we're gonna post hate on a character [not critique not analysis literally just you saying "I hate this character, and I don't care if u guys like her"] maybe don't put it in her character tags and say how much u wanna kill her.
For one thing, if it's a female character that's not a unique opinion, but it's also rude and in rather poor taste.
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josephthesnailshow · 2 months
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Fact of the day:
People misspelling my name is super common, and it is extremely common. Sometimes it is spelled like this:
Josheph, Josrph, and Josp.
Those are famous examples of misspellings of my name.
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I’m like if a girl had OneHalf installed on her Master Boot Record..
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sunshine-sunni · 8 days
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You who's studying abroad in the UK where you have a one night stand with Ghost at a bar; it's a special night for the soldiers and he gets lucky after making you laugh by telling a shitty joke thanks to the liquid confidence in you. You ask his name, and he tells you there's no need — that you'd forget by the end of the night.
Taking you back home, there was no time wasted. The man practically has you seeing stars. He pumps you full of cum, whispers absolute filth in your ears and leaves bruises on your thighs by the time it's all over. He at least cleans you up, gives you proper aftercare before disappearing while your still fucked out of your mind.
Anyways, a great night. perfect 10/10, you have a story to tell your girls. So, your life continues on track as normal, right?
Wrong!
You dream of him. You have countless dreams of him. They were graphic reenactments of that night. His stubble rubbing against your cheek, his lust-filled eyes burning into yours even in the darkness. And oh, his voice - deep and confident - the very reason why you were drawn to him in the first place.
He creeps into your dreams every single night without fail, so much so that it frustrates you. surely not because you were soaking wet afterwards, no, no, it was only because he was so annoying! Surely it wasn't because you’d end up pumping your fingers in and out your soaked cunt for hours in hopes of recreating that mindblowing orgasm he'd given you only to fail each time.
After your 10th failed attempt to cum, you crack asking the friend who took you out to the bar in the first place if she knew who the soldier was and she claims her boyfriend does. You've met Kyle before, he's a handsome man with dreamy eyes and a gentleman's demeanor.
Kyle tells you he'd pass the word back to his lieutenant, but he's a busy man who doesn't stay in one place. There's no guarantee he'd even respond.
Lucky you, screwing a lieutenant who probably doesn't remember who you are or won't have the time to find out.
The waiting game painfully starts all while the dreams continue. Each torturous night leaves you more and more agitated than before. By the 4th night, you already embraced the restlessness sure to come when the vibration of your phone changes everything.
Directly on the home screen was a text from an unknown number. There was no name, but you had a feeling who it was based on the message.
“Keep the front door unlocked for me.”
A/N I wrote this during hurricane francine when my power went out, I think she gave me superpowers. Idk I'll start flying tmr!!
P2 here
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cassandralexxx · 1 year
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I was talking to a friend about this the other day and honestly: I see why they’ve decided to ban all mention of queerness in Florida schools. Not because it’s right but because it destroys hope. It can be so crushing and alienating to be queer and this information ban serves to isolate queer students further. I remember how genuinely and truly happy I would get when reading the textbooks of my classes and seeing the single sentence about queer people existing. I would be ecstatic over the acknowledgment that queerness whether sexuality or gender was a real thing. It was never something that was highlighted more a piece in the background but I remember the first time I was reading my textbook for class and there was a sentence that proved that I could exist and be real. This ban of information is real efficient at removing those bright spots. It is harder to accept yourself when you can’t see yourself.
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moeitsu · 1 month
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Explaining the James Logan Howlett (Wolverine) Lore for the new fans :)
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I made this as a little cheat sheet for all the new Logan/Wolverine fans, in case you’ve never seen the movies or read the comics. Hopefully it’ll help with your fanfics and understanding his character better <3
Logan is my favorite of the Marvel superhero’s, and he and I go way back….so far back that my Dad dressed up as Wolverine and I as Rogue for Halloween in 2006. So he holds a very special place in my heart.
Lore - Part 2  Wolverine Comics
If you’ve seen X-men Origins: Wolverine, I hate to break it to you, but that backstory is not canon to the X-men universe. The later movies really screwed up the timeline. So the information here is strictly from the comics.
════ ⋆★⋆ ════
Pre-Adamantium Binding:
His real name is James Howlett, ‘Logan’ is later used as an alias to distance himself from his past.
He was born sometime around 1880, in Alberta Canada.
He is the illegitimate son of Elizabeth Howlett and Thomas Logan. He grew up on the Howlett estate and believed John Howlett was his real father.
His mutant powers first appeared when he was a child. He has accelerated healing, heightened senses, and retractable bone claws.
The trigger was caused by Thomas Logan killing James Howlett. The overwhelming fear and anger made his power manifest, blinded with rage he kills Thomas.
As his biological father dies, he reveals to Logan that he is his true father. The event is deeply traumatizing, and Logan runs away from his family estate. His mother commits suicide shortly after.
Logan has a half brother known as Sabertooth (Victor Creed) who has similar powers to the Wolverine but is more ‘animalistic’
The details vary across the comics but the brothers are always seen as rivals. And often pitted against eachother.
Logan served in WWI, WWII, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War.
He also served in a Canadian military force known as ‘Department H’ that specialized in superhuman affairs. (This was after the experiment, I’ll go into more detail later)
Sometime before the Weapon X program: On Earth-616, Logan had a wife (Itsu) and son in Japan where he was training at the time. They were killed by the Winter Soldier (Bucky Barnes)
Weapon X Program - Adamantium Binding:
The Weapon X program was run by multiple people working in secret for the Canadian government. Originally beginning in 1845, their goal was to experiment on mutants and create their own super-soldiers.
Logan was deceived and manipulated into undergoing the Weapon X experiment. He did not consent to being a test subject.
For some reason the X-Men Origins movie makes it out to be that Logan willingly chose to undergo this process, only to later reveal that he was tricked into doing so.
Before being captured, he was still struggling with his identity, he was close to 100 years old at the time. His life was filled with violence and loss. Making him physically and mentally vulnerable.
He was a prime target for exploitation.
Part of the experiment was to completely erase his memories and replace them with false ones. This allowed them complete control over him.
This also made it difficult for him to recall how he ended up in the program to begin with.
I repeat: they completely wiped his memory. His whole identity was gone.
100 years of memories were gone.
The bonding process turned his entire skeleton and bone claws into indestructible metal.
Due to his regenerative nature, Logan was not given anesthetic or put under for the procedure. It was excruciatingly painful.
Logan worked as a mercenary for private military contractors. He took on these assignments without fully understanding their implications because of his fragmented memory.
Sometime later he became a member of X-Force, a private military unit (affiliated with the CIA) that dealt with incredibly violent operations.
The purpose of the project was to create an unstoppable killing machine. With their end goal being to erase his humanity all together. However Logan’s mental fortitude allowed him to resist the conditioning and make his escape before it was too late.
After escaping, Logan developed a mistrust with authority. And just people in general. He felt deeply betrayed by the Weapon X program. And he struggles with the fear of being used as a weapon.
The escape and aftermath of Weapon X:
After everything Logan went through, the intense trauma and confusion significantly impacted his actions and mindset.
He was left with extreme psychological damage, and behaved more as an animal than a man for the first few years of his freedom. Living in the wilderness of Canada.
Quite literally a feral man. He lost touch of his humanity. Embracing his animalistic abilities, turning him into an apex predator.
Logan has the ability to enter something called “Beserker Rage” which he becomes entirely driven by animalistic instinct. Turning him into an unstoppable force and exerting himself for very long periods of time.
Think of when you see him running on all fours…
Over time, Logan began to regain bits and pieces of his humanity. He was later discovered by Heather and James MacDonald Hudson who took him in and helped him recover physically and mentally.
(Logan actually fell in love with Heather, and James became his best friend. They were the closest thing he had to a family)
After he recovered, he was recruited by the Canadian governments ‘Department H’. They were responsible for a lot of his training and became a key member in Canada’s superhero team: Alpha Flight.
This is where he took on the code name “Wolverine”
His time with Alpha Flight was short lived. And soon he was approached by Charles Xavier, who was looking for mutants to join his X-Men. He recognized Logan’s potential and offered him a place on the team as well as the promise to help him regain his memory.
Logan accepted, and his time with the X-Men marked a critical and significant moment in his life. Under Xavier’s guidance he was able to rebuild his identity and gradually piece together his past. All while fighting for the rights of mutants.
Being part of the X-Men gave him a sense of purpose and direction. Although his main goal had always been to uncover what he had lost, which was himself. He still struggles with trust and relationships, but eventually forms strong bonds with the other X-men.
His past with Weapon X still haunts him. And he has vivid and terrible nightmares about what he had done and what was done to him.
I won’t go into detail about his time with the X-men because that varies a lot across the comics. Just know that he had a love-hate relationship with them, but he ultimately loved them in the end.
Some sad facts about Logan that actually haunt me:
Logan has outlived everyone he ever loved. Family, friends, even his own children. He is so so so lonely.
Immense amount of survivors guilt. He feels unworthy of the life he continues to live.
He suffers from chronic nightmares. Often waking up in a violent and panicked state.
Deep-seated fear of abandonment that goes all the way back to his early childhood. He isolates himself to protect himself from more pain.
Tons of self-loathing. He believes himself to be nothing more than a killer. He thinks he is unworthy of love and happiness.
In the “Old Man Logan” storyline, he is tricked into killing the entire X-Men team. This event haunts him for the rest of his life.
Logan had a long, unrequited love for Jean Gray. He has watched her die multiple times, and each time a piece of him dies with her. On one occasion, he even had to kill her himself.
When he succumbs to “beserker rage” he loses control of himself. And the aftermath horrifies him. He is even afraid of himself at times and one of the reasons why he distances himself from others.
Some happy/soft facts to make up for everything you just read:
Logan is incredibly fatherly at times, often taking younger mutants under his protection and guidance. He becomes a mentor to them and looks out for their well-being.
In one of the comics he takes a young girl (Jubilee) to the mall and followers her around carrying her bags. He loves doting on her and I find it so adorable.
He also teaches another mutant named Kitty how to dance.
In one mission he is tasked with taking care of an infant, Hope. And he is incredibly gentle and tender with her. Cradling her in his arms and being fiercely protective.
He has a deep love and connection with animals. Especially ones that have been mistreated or misunderstood.
Caring for an injured wolf, he nurses it back to health and releases it back into nature.
He also adopts a stray, abused dog at one point.
In one of the timelines, he funded and ran the ‘Jean Gray School for Higher Learning’ He was the headmaster, and was dedicated to protecting and teaching young mutants.
In one scene he literally makes pancakes for all the students. I love him so much.
His relationship with Nightcrawler (Kurt Wagner) is very brotherly. They share alot of respect and understanding for each other, and Nightcrawler often serves as Logan’s moral compass.
His happiest memories are when he was training in Japan. And he has a deep appreciation and admiration for the culture. Taking on the samurai code of honor, and respecting its discipline and humility.
His entire relationship with Laura Kinney (X-23). Essentially his daughter. Taking on a father-figure role for her.
In one of the comics he organizes a birthday party for her, knowing she never had one. He goes all out and it shows just how much he loves her.
Logan has a great sense of humor. Often dry and sardonic, he’s known for his quick wit and playful banter. Which adds a layer of warmth to his otherwise tough persona.
He is very fond of life’s simple pleasures. Which reflects his inner desire for peace and normalcy. He values the little things that make life enjoyable.
His numerous acts of kindness towards strangers. Logan is compassionate at heart.
He doesn’t comfort others with his words, but rather his presence. Logan has a very unique understanding of grief and tries to give others relief in knowing they aren’t alone.
WOW okay I wrote way too much. Tbh I actually cut a ton out of this but if anybody wants a part 2 I’d be happy to share more. Shoutout to my brother for helping me source all this with his comics lol.
If you read all this, you’re a real one. And I’m so glad we’re all witnessing the Logan Howlett Renaissance
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stephobrien · 7 months
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Is your pro-Palestine activism hurting innocent people? Here's how to avoid that.
Note: If you prefer plain text, you can read the plain text version here.
Over the last few days, I’ve had conversations with several Jewish people who told me how hurt and scared they are right now.
To my great regret, some of that pain came from a poorly-thought-out post of mine, which – while not ill-intentioned – WAS hurtful.
And a lot of it came from cruelty they’d experienced at the hands of people who claim to be advocating for Palestine, but are using the very real plight of innocent Palestinians to harm equally innocent Jewish people.
Y’all, we need to do better. (Yes, “we” definitely includes me; this is in no small part a “learn from my fail” post, and also a “making amends” post. Some of these are mistakes I’ve made in the past.)
So if you’re an advocate for Palestine who wants to make sure that your defense of one group of vulnerable people doesn’t harm another, here are some important things to do or keep in mind:
Ask yourself if you’re applying a standard to one group that you aren’t applying to another.
Would you want all white Americans or Canadians to be expelled from America or Canada?
Do you want all Jewish people to be expelled from Israel, as opposed to finding a way to live alongside Palestinian Arabs in peace?
If the answer to those two questions is different, ask yourself WHY.
Do you want to be held responsible for the actions of your nation’s army or government? No? Then don’t hold innocent Jewish people, or Israelis in general (whether Jewish or otherwise), responsible for the actions of the Israeli army and government.
On that subject, be wary of condemning all Israeli people for the actions of the IDF. Large-scale tactical decisions are made by the top brass. Service is compulsory, and very few can reasonably get out of service.
Blaming all Israelis for the military’s actions is like blaming all Vietnam vets for the horrors in Vietnam. They’re not calling the shots. They aren’t Nazis running concentration camps. They are carrying out military operations that SHOULD be criticized.
And do not compare them or ANY JEWISH PERSON to Nazis in general. It is Jewish cultural trauma and not outsiders’ to use against them.
Don’t infuse legitimate criticism with antisemitism.
By all means, spread the word about the crimes committed by the Israeli army and government, and the complicity of their allies. Criticize the people responsible for committing and enabling atrocities.
But if you imply that they’re committing those crimes because they’re Jewish, or because Jewish people have special privileges, then you’re straying into antisemitic territory.
Criticize the crime, not the group. If you believe that collective punishment is wrong, don’t do it yourself.
And do your best to use words that apply directly to the situation, rather than the historical terms for situations with similar features. For example, use “segregation,” “oppression,” or “subjugation,” not “Holocaust” or “Jim Crow.” These other historical events are not the cultural property of Jews OR Palestinians, but also have their own nuances and struggles and historical contexts.
Also, blaming other world events on Jewish people or making Jewish people associated with them (for instance, some people falsely blame Jewish people for the African slave trade) is a key feature of how antisemitism functions.
Please, by all means, be specific and detailed in your critiques. But keep them focused on the current political actors – not other peoples’ or nations’ political or cultural histories and traumas.
Be prepared to accept criticism.
You probably already know that society is infused with a wide array of bigotries, and that people growing up in that environment tend to absorb those beliefs without even realizing it. Antisemitism is no exception.
What that means is, there’s a very real chance that you will screw up, and get called out on it, as I so recently did.
If that happens, please be willing to learn and adapt. If you can educate yourself about the suffering and needs of Palestinians, you can do the same for Jewish people.
Understand that the people you hurt aren’t obligated to baby you. Give them room to be angry.
After I made a post that inadvertently hurt people, some were nice about it, and others weren’t. Some outright insulted my morals and intelligence.
And I had to accept that I’d earned that from them.
I’d hurt them, and they weren’t obligated to be more careful with my feelings than I had been with theirs.
They weren’t obligated to forgive me, trust me, or stop being mad at me right away.
I’ll admit, there were moments when I got defensive. I shouldn’t have. And I encourage you to try not to, if you screw up and hurt people.
I know that’s hard, but it’s important. Getting defensive only tells people you care more about doubling down on your mistake than you do about healing the hurt it caused.
Instead, acknowledge that they have a right to be angry, apologize for the way you hurt them, and try to make amends, while understanding that they don’t owe you trust or forgiveness.
Be aware that some antisemites are using legitimate complaints to “Trojan horse” antisemitism into leftist spaces.
This is a really easy stumbling block to trip over, because most people probably don’t look at every post a creator makes before sharing the one they’re looking at right now.
I recently shared a video that called out some of the Likud and IDF’s atrocities and hypocrisy, and that also noted that many Jewish people are wonderful members of their communities.
I was later informed that, while that video in particular seemed reasonable, the creator behind it is frequently antisemitic.
I deleted the post, and blocked the creator. I encourage you to do the same if it’s brought to your attention that you’ve been ‘Trojan horse’d.
EDIT: Important note about antisemitism in leftist spaces:
While it's true that some blatant antisemites are using seemingly reasonable posts to get their foot in the door of leftist spaces, it's also true that a lot of antisemitism already exists inside those spaces.
This antisemitism is often dressed up in progressive-sounding language, but nonetheless singles Jewish people and places out in ways that aren't applied equally to other groups, or that label Jewish people in ways that portray them as acceptable targets.
If you want to see some specific examples, so you can have a better idea of what to keep an eye out for, I suggest reading this excellent reblog of this post.
Fact-check your doubts about antisemitism.
Depending on which parts of the internet you look at, you’ve probably seen people accused of antisemitism because they complained about the Likud and/or IDF’s actions. So you might be primed to be wary, or feel unsure of how to tell what counts as real antisemitism.
But that doesn’t mean antisemitism isn’t a very real, widespread, and harmful problem. And it doesn’t mean many or even most Jewish people are lying to you or being overly sensitive.
So if someone says something is antisemitic, and you aren’t sure, I encourage you to:
A. Look up the action or thing in question, including its history. Is there an antisemitic history or connotation you aren’t aware of? For best results, include “antisemitic” in your search query, in quotes.
B. Understand that some things, while not inherently antisemitic, have been used by antisemites often enough that Jewish people are understandably wary of them. Schrodinger’s antisemitism, if you will.
C. Ask Jewish people WHO HAVE OFFERED TO HELP EDUCATE YOU. Emphasis on WHO HAVE OFFERED. Random Jewish people aren’t obligated to give you their time and emotional energy, or to educate you – especially on subjects that are scary or painful for them.
@edenfenixblogs has kindly offered her inbox to those who are genuinely trying to learn and do better, and I’ve found her to be very kind, patient, reasonable, and fair-minded.
Understand that this is URGENTLY NEEDED.
In one of my conversations with a Jewish person who’d called me out, they said this was the most productive conversation they’d had with a person with a Palestinian flag in their profile.
THIS IS NOT OKAY.
I didn’t do anything special. All I did was listen, apologize for my mistakes, and learn.
Yes, it feels good to be acknowledged. But I feel like I’ve been praised for peeing IN the toilet, instead of beside it.
Apologizing, learning, and making amends after you hurt people shouldn’t be “the most reasonable thing I’ve heard from a person with a Palestinian flag pfp.”
It should be BASIC DECENCY.
And the fact that it’s apparently so uncommon should tell you how much unnecessary stress and fear Jewish people have been living with because of people who consider themselves defenders of human rights.
By all means, be angry at the Likud, the IDF, and the politicians, reporters, and specific media outlets who choose to enable and cover up for them.
But direct that anger toward the people who deserve it and are in a position to do something about it, not random people who simply happen to be Jewish, or who don’t want millions of people to be turned into refugees when less violent methods of achieving freedom and rights for Palestinians are available.
Stop peeing beside the toilet, people.
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justauthoring · 5 months
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jerk [2].
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because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate.
a/n: the LARGELY requested part two! honestly, i'd be willing to write more parts if people wanted :) this part ended up being more about the girls and y/ns friendship but i couldn't help myself - if you guys want some fluff with bakugou for future parts, just let me know!
pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader
part one. part three.
“You’re hiding something from us.”
There’s a beat of silence, then another, then another and when finally, you realize you should say something, you blink, sputtering out a barely believable; “no i’m not.”
Mina and Jirou glance at each other, then behind them at the rest of the girls, and you feel a layer of sweat build up when you realize all of your female classmates are here, surrounding you, demanding an answer. And you’ve never really been all that good at lying before, it’s how Bakugou was able to figure out the whole “i’m your soulmate thing” rather quickly and it had only taken him as long as it had because, well, it was Bakugou.
So, to put it bluntly, you’re screwed.
“Come on, Y/N,” Mina laughs, “that wasn’t even remotely believable.”
You know it’s written across your face, your eyes wide and your lips parted and you’re sure you look like quite the picture in that moment surrounded by every single female student in your class, a group of girls you considered your friends but were feeling considerably more like your interrogators in that moment. 
But you have to at least try.
“I’m not hiding anything,” you repeat, this time taking special care to make sure your voice is even and somewhat believable. “I’m just… tired. It’s been throwing my balance off. Sorry guys.”
You really are because you have been weird recently and you were hiding things (even if you were desperate for them not to know that) so the sincerity was there and it seems to be enough because they all glance at each other, frowning, and you can literally see the determination fade as Momo speaks up first.
“You have been leaving to train a lot,” she agrees with a solemn nod. “It’s no wonder you’re so tired. But you should still try to get some rest, don’t push yourself so hard.”
You let out a breath of relief, trying not to let it show as some of the girls shuffle back to walk away, until—
“Wait, that reminds me!”
It’s Jirou who calls it out and you feel yourself freeze.
“She hasn’t been training!”
Eyes widening, you turn to look at Jirou. She’s grinning your way, her figure pointed in your direction, clearly pleased she’d caught you in your lie.
“Jirou,” Uraraka calls out, confused. “What are you–”
“Two nights ago when she left to go training, I followed her, thinking we could train together… she wasn’t there.”
They gasp. Literally gasp.
“Now that you mention it,” Froppy nods, finger held to her chin in thought. “I haven’t actually seen her in the gym very often… nor does she look particularly like a person who’s just trained when she comes back.”
Their eyes fall on you and you take a step back.
“Y/N—”
And then you just run.
-
“I can’t believe she just ran!”
“I know!”
“Guys, I’m sure she had her reasons.”
“Who?”
Mina’s lips are left parted at the sound of Kirishima’s voice, all the girls turning to face him in the living room where he’s sat with the rest of the class.
“Y/N,” Mina explains with a huff, falling into the couch dramatically. “She’s been ditching us constantly and always leaving right after we return from class with some excuse. When we tried to ask her about it today, she lied and then when we caught on to her lie, she ran! Literally just bolting down the hallway before we could even blink.”
Kirishima frowns, glancing over to Denki on his left.
“That doesn’t sound like Y/N,” Deku calls out from across the room, head tilted in curiosity. “Especially to lie to you guys.”
“I know!” Mina calls out, throwing her hands up in exasperation. 
“Like I said,” Uraraka speaks up, trying to remain calm. “I’m sure she has her reasons. Maybe something’s wrong…”
“You think she could be in danger?” Shoto asks, quirking a brow. 
Uraraka shrugs; “I don’t know… I hope not.”
Everyone falls silent, worried expressions plastered on their faces.
“Wait, Kirishima… bro.” Denki calls, reaching to shake Kirishima aggressively, to which the red-haired boy swats his hands away, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Hasn’t Bakubro been disappearing a lot too?”
All the girls straighten out.
Kirishima just shakes his head; “Bakugou is always disappearing. You know he doesn’t like hanging with us a lot.”
“No, Denki’s right,” Sero nods, “even if he isn’t hanging with us, he’s usually in his room or in the gym. Recently, he just completely disappears.”
“I guess you’re right…” Kirishima frowns.
“Wait,” Jirou calls out, “what are you saying? That Bakugou is disappearing with Y/N?”
“That’s crazy,” Mina brushes off. “I’ve never even seen the two talk to each other unless they’re forced to–wait.”
Everyone's eyes snap to hers, wide.
“What?”
“You don’t think… no. It’s not possible.”
“Oh my god,” Denki cries out suddenly, leaning forward with a manic look in his eyes. “Bakubro is hurting Y/N!”
“Wait–”
“No way!” Kirishima calls out, turning to Denki. “Bakugou is a lot of things, but he would never hurt somebody intentionally. Especially not a girl. That’s not manly. Right, Midoriya?”
“Right,” Deku nods confidently, before pausing; “I think?”
“Hey!”
“Guys, no!” Mina cuts in, shaking her hands widely before her. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Okay…” Momo nods, “then what?”
She leans in, pausing for dramatic effect. “He could be… her soulmate!”
There’s silence, then, “no way.”
Mina’s face falls; “why not?”
“Bakugou? Having a soulmate?” Jirou snorts, “I doubt that.”
“Everybody has one!”
“Okay, the odds of him actually caring about his soulmate are slim to none,” Froppy offers in response.
“Yeah,” Deku nods, “I've never once seen Kacchan show interest in his soulmate like… ever.”
Kirishima shakes his head; “even I have to admit that’s so not manly.”
Everyone shuffles around agreements but Mina is quick to argue; “have any of you guys ever seen Bakugou’s soulmate mark?” Slowly, one by one, all glancing at each other, the guys shake their heads. Mina then turns to the girls. “Okay, have any of you ever seen Y/N’s? Cause she’s never shown or told me.”
The girls all shake their heads.
“So how can you really know?” Mina raises a brow, “I mean, Y/N is always so secretive about her mark. She refuses to tell me.”
-
“Bakugou, we have—”
“Katsuki.”
Coming to a sharp halt, lips left parted, you blink up at Bakugou.
With a grin, Bakugou gently shuts your mouth with a hand to your jaw, laughing lightly; “say Katsuki. That’s my name.”
You can feel your cheeks warm, profusely, and a burst of heat flood through you as you pull yourself from his touch, avoiding his gaze. “Katsuki,” you oblige with a huff and a pout. “We have a problem.”
“Yes?” Bakugou asks, raising a brow your way as he lowers the weight’s he’d been lifting.
“The girls are onto us!”
Bakugou just stares down at you. “What does that mean?”
Exasperated at his obliviousness, you huff, stretching your hands out before you for emphasis as you stare up at him, wide-eyed. “They know I’ve been disappearing after class a lot. I tried to tell them I was training, which I guess we usually are but Jirou caught on to that being a lie too and now they’re onto us!”
Bakugou just blinks. “But what do you mean onto us?”
You let out a cry; “Katsuki! They’re gonna know we’re soulmates!”
“So?”
Pressing a hand to your face, you can’t believe your situation. Not only were the girls onto you, they knew you were lying, which made you feel awful and if they found out that you’d been spending all your time with Bakugou… well that was bound to bring up more questions. Questions you wouldn’t be able to avoid. Questions that would ultimately lead to them finding out Bakugou was your soulmate.
A hand gently reaches for your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face as Bakugou crouches to meet your eyes directly. 
“Why is it such a big deal?” He asks gently, an odd tone that you’re still not used to hearing from Bakugou yet. His face remains neutral but there’s patience lingering in his eyes as he waits for you to explain why you’re so upset.
And you do. Your lips part and the words are at the tip of your tongue until, suddenly, you can’t say anything.
Nothing leaves your lips.
“Y/N?”
“I…—”
“You don’t want them to know?”
Blinking, you bite your lip. “It’s not that, it’s just…” But again, you can’t find the words.
“You don’t trust them?”
“Of course I do,” you argue instantly, “they’re my best friends.”
“Okay…” he says slowly, and then his face twists, “are you… embarrassed of me?”
Meeting his gaze, you frown. “...No,” you whisper, and you mean the words.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I…” Shoulders falling, you frown. “Nothing… I guess.”
“So,” he says, “let them find out!”
Sputtering, you lean back; “it’s not like you’ve told Kirishima or any of the other guys!”
“It’s none of their business,” Bakugou shrugs, letting go of your wrists to set his hand on your head. “But if it makes you feel better, I'll tell them.”
You find yourself silent with disbelief once again, Bakugou’s words echoing in your mind paired with the look in his eyes. Just staring down at you.
Looking at you.
Like you’re his whole world.
-
“I’m sorry.”
They blink at you.
“I’m sorry about running away yesterday.”
Another blink.
“And I'm sorry I’ve been lying to you guys for the past few weeks.”
Slowly, all the girls glance at each other, trying to gauge the situation, before Uraraka is the first to speak up.
“It’s okay,” she assures with a smile, setting her hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We appreciate you apologizing. We were just worried.”
“We wanna make sure you’re okay,” Jirou adds, smiling shyly at you. 
You take a look at all of their faces, seeing the sincerity staring back at you, before settling on Mina who still has a hint of hurt in her eyes but there’s also hope.
Well, here goes nothing.
“Bakugou’s my soulmate.”
Silence echoes, once again, before.
“What?”
“I knew it!”
“Bakugou!?”
There’s a mix of words, gasps of disbelief and shouts of question thrown out at you as all the girls rush towards you, swarming you, desperate for answers.
You laugh a little at their reaction, and that catches their attention.
“Y/N?” Mina asks, confused.
“I’ve been sneaking off to see him,” you explain to her, meeting her gaze, before letting your gaze drift. “I didn’t say anything because I’m still adjusting to it myself and I still don’t know how to feel about it. But I realized it isn’t fair to lie to you guys like that and that I want you guys to know because you matter so much to me.”
“Y/N…” Uraraka mumbles, tears welling in her eyes.
Her expression mimics many of the other girls before suddenly there’s a body slamming against your own, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you stumble back, trying to catch your footing.
“Oh. My. God!” Mina screams, you wincing at the sheer volume, as she pulls back, grinning brightly at you. “You have to tell us everything!”
-
The next morning, you’re sitting at the island in the kitchen eating breakfast, chatting to Mina, Jirou and Kirishima. The rest of the students trickle by, some making breakfast, some in the living room, all in their own conversations, until suddenly it all stops.
It takes you a moment to realize Kirishima, Mina and Jirou are no longer listening to you, head turned to their right and following their gaze, curious, you blink when you realize it’s Bakugou they’re staring at. It’s not like he’s doing anything particularly odd, nothing except for the fact that his gaze is directed on you and he’s heading straight for you and then suddenly, he’s right in front of you.
His gaze drifts from you, to your plate, back to you; “who made you that?”
“Nobody,” you say slowly, still stunned. “I made it.”
He’s grabbing the plate before you can say anything else, pressing a kiss to your forehead that has your cheeks burning before turning and making his way to the fridge.
“I’ll make you something better,” is all he says in explanation.
Your gaze slowly drifts from him to Mina and Jirou who are grinning widely at you, before there’s the shout of;
“Did Bakubro just kiss Y/N?!”
“And offer to make her breakfast!”
“Wait,” Kirishima suddenly calls after Sero and Denki, turning to Mina and Jirou, “why are two grinning!?”
“All the girls are!” Deku exclaims, pointing at Uraraka and Froppy in front of him.
“You guys knew?”
“Of course,” Mina grins, sending a wink Kirishima’s way before shrugging. “Isn’t that right, Bakugou? You and Y/N are soulmates!”
Everyone expects him to ignore her or tell her to shut up, but instead, he pauses in what he’d been doing (cracking an egg for you), turning his head over his shoulders to meet your gaze before smirking. 
“That’s right.”
And chaos follows.
Utter and complete chaos.
2K notes · View notes
chilumi-shipper · 1 year
Text
From Me, For You
Childe x GN!Reader / Alhaitham x GN!Reader
Summary: You love creating something special for them, it's your love language to say the least, it's the way you show love for them. But at some point, it seems like they stopped caring for the things you make, and in a moment where the stress was getting to them, they even said something so hurtful about your favorite thing to do for them.
Tags: Angst to Fluff, Hurt with Comfort, Crying, Childe coming home with blood covering him, Hurtful Comments
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Childe
Your relationship with him is... surprising, to say the least.
You're just a baker in Liyue that happened to sell one of the best Shezhnayan pastries that a certain homesick Harbinger was really craving. One thing led to another, and now you're in love and in a relationship with a Fatui Harbinger.
It's not like you didn't try your damn hardest not to fall for his charms, but seeing him eat the pastries you make and jokingly sob about his home, with the pastry's filling staining the corners of his lip, it just touched your heart.
But you forgot for a bit... he's a Harbinger...
He's not always gonna be the Ajax that taste test your baked goods every other day and would give the biggest smile with the usual comment of "Everything is perfect! You're perfect!"
And that's increasingly becoming more prominent.
You looked at the Shezhnayan baking book intently, making sure you follow the way of making a local pastry filling to a T. This is very important to you, your boyfriend's birthday is just around the corner, and you really really wanted to give him a taste of home since he wouldn't be able to make it back to his home nation.
You have to make sure to not screw up, so you're practicing early on.
The sound of your front door opening perked your ears up, making you put down the bowl of filling you were working on and skip on to your living room.
"Jax!" You affectionately called for him before you could even see him clearly.
The sight that greeted you, however, promptly stopped you from jumping at him for a hug.
Blood...
Whether his or someone else's, it mortified you. You were speechless.
"What...?" Childe scoffed at the sight of your shocked expression. "This is what being a Harbinger is." He looked down at his soiled clothes, feeling rather uncomfortable. "You should get used to this, babe."
The usual warmth of his presence in your house changed into an atmosphere that made you sick to the stomach.
"Please..." You started, your heart beating rapidly and your voice laced with disbelief. "Wash up... I..." After such a sight, could you really ask him to taste test one of your many endeavors in baking again?
This man... this Harbinger... he wasn't the Ajax you wished to see. But that's still him, just not the version he made you become privy to.
However, after so many days and nights that he showed up like... that, you got used to it, got used to the slow uprising of a worse version of him, the version of him that didn't give a fuck about what brought you together in the first place, the version of him that no longer accepted welcoming hugs and kisses, the version of him that made you feel so... worthless.
"Are you baking again? I know it's your job and all, but could you like... just not bring it home?" The ginger said that one time, rather hypocritically considering that he brought that terrible attitude from his job to your home.
"I'm working on something important..." You excused his rather hurtful words, you were rather sensitive when someone mentions something negative to you about the hobby that made you so happy. "Can you try it and tell me what you think?"
"Not in the mood." You knew that he was rather tired from taking care of something for his job, but that dismissive tone made your heart ache... and just when you think you've finally perfected his childhood favorite treat.
A moment of silence fills the room before a quiet "Please..." escapes you in a very hesitant tone. You worked so hard... finding an actual Snezhnayan baking book with local recipes, practicing over and over to make it perfect, even making sure to add your own little touch that compliments the taste.
Maybe you shouldn't have said that, otherwise, he wouldn't have stood up from the couch to face your smaller figure holding onto the tray of baked goods, looking up at his looming figure.
"You know, Y/N..." Your breathing already became heavy at the cold call of your name. "There are so many more useful things you could do than bake all day. This..." A gasp escaped your mouth when he grabbed the tray from your hands and threw it down on the kitchen island.
"This is just worthless."
Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, and you could no longer hold in the sob in your throat, as you started crying pathetically right in front of him. You whimpered as you tried to control your falling tears and your harsh breathing.
You couldn't say anything back, your cheeks and nose only reddening at the rapid emotion that's escaping you. No longer being able to handle being right in front of him, you ran up to your room, closing the door and face planting on the bed, muffling your cries with the sheets.
Back downstairs, Childe was still processing everything.
"There's nothing to process, you are a dick." His inner self told him, and he completely agrees as he sighs, dragging his fingers along his ginger hair in frustration in himself.
Why did he do that? Why did he say those hurtful things? Why did he treat you like you were one of his targets that he was assigned to manipulate?
Work got to him, it has been for weeks, but it was no excuse. He brought a monster he couldn't control into your house, and now... you were hurt.
His blue eyes darted to the pastries he haphazardly threw on the counter, most were still on the tray, in a mess and no longer in a firm order in which you like to arranger your treats.
A realization hit him... they look a lot like...
Childe then remembered the look on your face when you whispered a plea. Your eyes were hopeful when he stood up, and then your body shook when you realized he wasn't intending on tasting anything.
A memory flashed in his mind, even intensifying when he picked up a treat and bit into it, a sweet, warm filling coating the inside of his mouth. It was delicious... and just like in your Y/N way, everything you make made him feel better.
His senses getting better meant the pit in his stomach got worse, the regret of going off on you consuming him more and more.
He then hurried up to your room, gently opening your door to not startle you. His heart broke at the sight of you, your face buried into your pillows, your shoulders shaking and indicating that you're crying still. He knows that after what he did, he has no right to even feel hurt at the sight of you... but he loves you! And he knows he hasn't been showing it.
Without a word, without turning around to face him, you spoke. "P-please... L-le-leave me a-alone." Your words were muffled, and you were stuttering due to the sobs you still couldn't control.
"Baby, I... I'm so sorry..." Childe knew that those words could never be enough to make you feel better, but he at least needed a chance to say his piece, even though he may not deserve it. "Work has been... it's been making me like this... but, I know I can't use that as an excuse..."
"I've been a prick..." You didn't respond to him, but your sobs did die down to little sniffles. "And I don't deserve someone like you..."
"You just made the perfect replica of one of my favorite treats, and you probably did so much for this. Archons, babe, you're amazing. And so so caring." Ajax felt tears starting to form, his vision getting cloudy as his eyes water. If you forced him to leave, he would, but he wanted to pour everything in his heart for you out, and finally finally let out the emotion he had to keep in due to his job.
"I love you so much, Y/N... for being such an amazing person that lit up my life." He walked closer to you, prompting to sit on the bed beside you. Still, you give no response. "And the fact that you love me... that... you loved me...."
"I'm so honored that you even let me be your taste tester." The ginger chuckled a bit, reveling in the sweet memory.
"And I can't fucking believe that I just hurt you like that. I'm so s-sorry, Y/N." Finally, the tears in his eyes fell, and his voice broke when he spoke.
He wasn't use to fear, but at that moment, he truly felt the fear of you rejecting him.
After a few seconds, you turned to him, and he felt even more guilty to see your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes.
"C-Couch..." You whispered while pointing at him, making the ginger tilt his head in confusion. "S-Sleep on the couch." You stuttered out, and Childe immediately nodded, accepting your statement.
"A-And no more hugs and kisses, no p-pastries either." You firmly stated (as firm as your sniffly state could say at least). "For a month."
"Okay.... Yes, understood!" Childe wiped the tears on his face, answering you with determination. If that's what it took for you to forgive him, he's gonna do it with ease.
"And no coming home with b-blood on you. Please..." He got off the bed to get on his knees in front of you.
"I promise..." With many of his promises, he had an instinct to kiss your forehead as a reassurance, but you avoided his hand before he could hold your head to go in to press a kiss.
"Wait a month." You let out a strained giggle, and he smiled at how sweet it was despite his lips tingling in the anticipation of a kiss.
The whole no hugs and kisses is gonna be hard, and the no pastries means that he's not gonna get a taste of your love for an entire month!
But he will persevere, just for you.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Alhaitham
You have a knack for crafting little momentos and preserving memories by creatively incorporating moments into the trinkets that you make.
It's your favorite hobby! And you're rather proud that you can make such cute little things that don't look tacky.
Kaveh was actually pleased the very first time Alhaitham came home with a decor you made, an embroidery of an irritated dendro slime reading a thick book that he can hang on a wall. You presented it to him with all smiles, saying that that was how you saw him the first time you saw him in the House of Deana.
"Finally! You actually got something to hang up that doesn't embody your atrocious taste!" Kaveh was enthusiastic, yet still managed to diss the gray haired scholar while giving out a compliment.
The first thing you ever made for him was that embroidery. And Archon's did your heart flutter and leaped with joy when he actually accepted it. What you were expecting was a comment from him like "I think it's silly to represent me with a slime. I would say that my IQ level is much higher than those elemental lifeforms."
You were both just acquaintances when you gave him that gift, but that sparked something between you. You were smart, creative, and didn't speak to him all stiff and nervous like many of your peers. You make the atmosphere easy to be in, and Alhaitham happens to like it when things are easy for him.
You liked his company just as much, finding his calmness and straightforwardness so tranquil and refreshing, not to mention his funny smarty pants attitude. You liked him so much that you would sit by him in the Akademiya or in the library and do your handy work.
it basically progressed from that. "I enjoy being with you, and you kissed me that one time and I liked it. And I can see that you enjoy being with me too. So we're together now." He stated, and you were in shock, he's always been straightforward, but that was truly unexpected.
"Y-You haven't even... taken me out on a date yet!" That was the first thing that you thought to say, still processing everything.
Alhaitham raised an eyebrow, "You don't call this and our every other meeting a date? We are together and we're doing what we want to do." Damn it, he made a good point.
"B-But..." You stuttered, making him sigh.
"Do you not want to be with me?"
"No! I-I mean... yes... Yes! I do, but you just dropped it all out of nowhere." You argued, seriously having a love-hate relationship with his unapologetic honesty.
He ignored your comment, only choosing to hear that you want to be with him. "Good, you're my partner now."
And then... with you being you, every milestone, every special event in your relationship, you'd make something for him.
First anniversary? A custom picture frame with 12 pictures of both of you in it to remind him of the 12 months you've been together.
His birthday? A crochet little plant in a pot, the plant seemingly just sprouting.
Just a random day? Well, you got something for him anyway. :D
You love him to bits and you wanted to show them in your very own love language, crafting little gifts!
Each one, Alhaitham accepted in an uncharacteristically bashful yet still pleased manner, muttering a "Thank you..." or a "You never fail to impress me." and then you are presented with a great honor of a smile from the scribe.
Making him feel happy and warm inside (though he would never admit that he was, but he really was) by making things for him made you so happy!
You managed to fill his desk with your creations, not just decor, but some useful trinkets too! Like a functional hourglass, a lamp that he can write on, and an organizer for books because you swear that he literally just lets the books litter his office since he reads lots of them on and off, and you needed to do something about it.
The main thing is... he loves your love for creativity.
At least... that's what you thought...
But ever since he became the Acting Grand Sage...
Alhaitham has always been an honest person, never one to beat around the bush or spare anyone's feeling by keeping his opinions to himself.
And he sure has gotten colder, much more poky, probing at the weaknesses and insecurities of many scholars in an attempt to only let researches and works he finds worthy to continue. The rest shall no longer be conducted.
Apparently, that included your work.
"I don't see a use for such an object. I prefer things in my desk to be practical."
"The way you designed it is rather... silly. Far too childish to be of sensible use."
"Decors are not necessary, there's better use of your time."
You took all of his critiques, from then and now, to heart, making sure to reflect on his words to improve. But when he was still the Scribe, he at least commented on how to improve.
Now, it's like... he wants you to stop.
You're currently in the office of the Acting Grand Sage, you brought your crocheting kit with you to pass the time, hoping to just have a quiet afternoon with him while you both do your work, much like what you did in the past.
"Alhaitham, what'cha up to?" You asked innocently, still working on your crochet as you were seated on the floor. He was working on something on his desk, his brows pulled together as he frowned at the report in front of him.
That was what you usually do, ask some questions about each other's business, encourage each other if it's really stressing you out, or jab at how you could never do his work, and he would not have even a quarter of your patience to finish a craft.
This time, however, he does not grace you with a response, preserving the quietness of the room. You got the message, so you opted to keep quiet and keep on crocheting a blanket with a print that you were planning to give him, maybe a fluffy blanket will keep out his cold mood.
A few minutes later though, you don't know exactly what made him snap, you don't know why he suddenly called your name, and you don't know why he looked at you with such a frustrated look.
"Y/N, just drop it." Alhaitham suddenly blurted out to you. Making you jump and pause what you're doing.
"W-What?" You stuttered, confused and worried at the same time.
"I saw that you've been struggling on that thing for hours, can't you just move on to something more useful?" The gray haired man sighed. "You're so creative, and you're wasting your time with that." He said it like so condescendingly, that such a calm sounding comment penetrated your heart more than an actual insult could.
"I mean, look at all this." He motions to his desk. "A bunch of junk that serves no purpose. I really don't see why you need to do all this." Tears started collecting in your eyes, and you heard his words as if you're the junk that serves no purpose.
"B-But... those are all presents for... y-you." Your voice was shaking, and you could only manage to whisper. "I wanted to make them for you."
"Then perhaps it is me that don't want to receive them anymore."
And that's what got to you. What you do to show your love, what you try to do for him, he doesn't even like. So does he even love you at all?
Tears streamed down your face, and what initially started as sniffles turned into sobs that echoed around the large room. You stood up, stuffing your things into your bag before aggressively wiping your tears away, though more seem to fall anyway.
Without another word, you ran to the elevator before rushing out of the Akademiya, running back home with a broken heart. It was a miracle you didn't trip with how cloudy your vision got from the tears.
...
"What are you doing here?" Alhaitham raised a brow, seeing Kaveh in his office, sweeping everything on his desk into a large bag.
The blond architect ignored him, clearing out the desk before heading for the wall with a few of your works filled the space.
"Did Y/N make this?" Kaveh questioned, finally looking at his roommate. Alhaitham merely nodded, though even more confused when the architect took the pieces and shoved them in the bag too.
"What are you doing?"
Kaveh scoffed, shaking his head at the Acting Grand Sage's pathetic ignorance. "You don't deserve these things!" He then proceeded to glare at him. "Saying such mean things at Y/N, they did nothing wrong and you started acting like some obnoxious fucker that just wanna bring people down."
"I mean, I know you like doing that. But to Y/N?" Kaveh questioned in disbelief. "Yeah, you don't deserve any of this."
And so Alhaitham was reminded of his words from yesterday, as well as you're crying face as you ran out of his office. He (rather stupidly) thought that you'd get over the comments, after all, you didn't mind his critiques from before.
"I wanted to make them for you." He remembers what you said, all the things Kaveh had in the large bag were for him. You wanted to make those for him.
You made them because... you love him...
And he fucked up.
Kaveh was done with his sweep, leaving him in a eerily empty room, free of everything that made it a bearable to work in. He hated the office of the Grand Sage, but your presence, the presence of your creations... made it that much better.
He had to fix this.
...
You heard knocking at your door, but after looking at the peephole and seeing a gray haired scholar for the fifth time that day, you didn't bother opening the door.
"Darling?" You ignored the endearment muffled by the wall separating the both of you.
On the other side, Alhaitham sighed before resting his head on your door. He's been trying to talk to you properly for five hours, but he didn't just want to say what he wanted to at your door, risking you not hearing what he has to say for himself.
"Listen, Y/N, I'll just be here... working." He didn't leave just yet. "You can join me, if you want. Just like before."
He sat back down on the bench that was right in front of your house. He brought the work he has to get done with him, and trying to swallow down the guilt yet again, he proceeded to work into the well hours of the night before leaving with yet another unsuccessful day of trying to talk to you.
For many days, it was like that, he stayed outside your home. Whenever you needed to go out, you ignored him, even if he followed you, even if he tried to talk to you, you wouldn't give him the time of day.
"I think this type of yarn would be good for structure." Alhaitham held a roll of yarn in his hand, looking you and anticipating a response.
Though you said nothing, you confirmed that you at least listen when you plucked up another roll of the same yarn and paid for it. He smiled a little, though you didn't wish to humor him further.
Everyday, Alhaitham would be working in front of your house, maybe knocking once in a while to check in on you. It was rather heartbreaking to see, from your window, you saw him sit there, looking like he isn't even getting work done, just staring at the reports and trying to make something of it.
And finally, it was night yet again, a particularly cold one this time around. The cold breeze as the sun sets in for the night sent goosebumps down the Acting Grand Sage's spine, but it was far too early to leave, so he didn't budge.
You don't get it, you don't want to feel sorry for him, he couldn't just say something so harsh yet act so stubborn to force you to forgive him!
But tonight... he does look rather cold, and from what you learned the days before, nothing will make him move from that bench until you let him talk to you properly.
There was a soft warmth that ingulfed Alhaitham as he was busy with his work, from his peripherals he could see the makings of a blanket, effectively shielding him from the cold.
Looking back, he saw you dressed in your pajamas, not bothering to make eye contact with him. "You looked cold." were the only words that you said to him.
Unbeknownst to him, while he was working in front of your house, you joined in on his day, finishing the blanket you were planning to give him before his outburst.
It felt like such a waste to scrap it, especially since you were half done with it already...
He stood up from the bench, looking uncharacteristically enthused at you. "Thanks..." He was looking fondly at you, but you still refused to meet his gaze.
You also noticed from watching him a bit that he wasn't really eating much throughout the day, so before you could stop yourself...
"Would you like to come in for dinner?"
...
You were quiet for most of the meal, but his ears perked at the occasional sniffles you let out, implying that you were trying not to cry. Alhaitham felt shitty for thinking he even had the right to feel bad when he was the one that caused all this.
After dinner, it was still silent, but Alhaitham proceeded to evaluate the blanket you gave him in your living room. It was crochet with, yet again, an irritated dendro slime on top of a building that resembles the Akademiya, you must have observed him and his sour mood from being the Acting Grand Sage.
"Do I get to keep this?" He asked, looking at you expectantly.
You bit your lip, anxiously twiddling your thumbs. "Umm... It's... not of much use." You replied, earning a sigh from him.
With your comment, Alhaitham made his way right in front of you, making it perfectly clear for him see that tears have started to fall from your eyes. "I-I think... it would be best if you g-go now."
You were looking down, still trying to cover your face despite knowing that he knew you were crying.
"Would it be okay if I talk to you properly first?" Something in you wanted him to leave because you thought that he deserved it, but you still wanted answers. Why did he say all those mean things to you? Why did he hate what you make so much? Why was he persistently outside your house all the time to persuade you to finally talk to him?
You didn't answer, but didn't motion at all for him to leave, so he took his chance before it was too late. "There's nothing I love more in the world than you. And to lash out on you for doing something you love was absolutely idiotic of me."
He took your hands in his, "I hated being the Grand Sage, I hated having to deal with the shit I don't care about. That hate just continued to build up, and I... you were the one that unfairly received it all."
"You didn't deserve any of that. And I know I can't use being stressed as an excuse for hurting you, that was my own stupid act. But I am truly sorry."
"I-I would have stopped making things for you if you hated them so much." You finally looked up at him with wet doe eyes, effectively clenching his heart even more.
"No, no, darling... I love what you make, every single one. Because I know that making them makes you happy, and I love seeing you happy." He lets go of one of your hands to wipe your tears away. "I'm so sorry about everything I said, darling. The moment Kaveh took everything from my office, I realized how empty it was... without you..."
"He did that?" You asked in disbelief, your question laced with a strained chuckle. He nodded, a pout forming on his face.
"Yeah, and I realized how terrible it was..."
You laughed, though your cheeks were still stained by dried tears. "Do you like the blanket I made you?" You asked him, and he gave you a rare genuine smile.
"I love it, you're a star for making it for me." He closed the gap between the both of you, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace.
"I love everything you gift me. I love you..." He whispered as he hugged you warmly.
"Even the plushie on your desk that doesn't do anything and always falls over?"
"Even that..." Your heart fluttered, your body cuddling with his to receive more of his warmth.
"Okay..." You responded, smiling against him. "You can tell Kaveh to stop keeping my gifts hostage..."
...
"There's somethings missing..." Alhaitham gave Kaveh a pointed look, making his blond roommate scoff.
"Well, everything I took I brought back here! If you lost a few things then that's you're fault!" Kaveh has always been a big fan of your crafts, and Alhaitham has a gut feeling that he liked a few things that he took.
The gray haired scholar merely raised a brow, making Kaveh sigh dramatically.
"Fine! But I'm keeping the plushie!" He left before Alhaitham could argue with him, leaving him only to sigh.
Your giggle occupied the room for a bit. "I'll tell him I can make one for him."
"Alright, but I'll appreciate if his isn't as cute as mine. Thanks." He said, and though you know he's joking, he still had that stoic face that makes you laugh when he says those unserious things.
"I'll keep that in mind."
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
This is like almost 20k words, so I really hope that you guys liked it :D
It's been a while, (as always with my writing, but it's summer, so apart from work, I've been pretty free to write, which makes me really happy) enjoy!
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xo-cod · 1 year
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someone asked for it but the ask got deleted so here it is again :)
bodyguard!simon x popstar!reader
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absolutely hated you in the beginning. only tolerated you because price had given him this responsibility and because the pay was decent. otherwise he was just a shadow with one worded responses and grunts towards whatever you said.
used to manhandle you whenever you used to walk slow, pulling you along with a tut and a roll of his eyes. you couldn't really see his face since he still wore his balaclava but his face was definitely screwed up behind it
the loud cheering becomes jarring to him the first few times, he's not used to this environment and there's been a few times where his hands have sprung to his gun ready to unload hell onto a poor excited fan who wanted a signature
but the more time he spends with you, the more he warms up around you. he even knew time brought you on base for when he needed to grab something quickly and you ended up meeting his team members
gaz and soap are basically #1 fans fr. the fact that you're friends with their favourite musicians makes them fanboy, your life is so exciting and they always want to know the latest gossip.
simon watches on unamused but secretly feeling a certain way when he sees you speaking happily with his friends
the dances you have with your backup dancers make simon so jealous ‼️‼️ the way your hips sway with theirs, the way their hands are across your waist, the tight outfits, god he has to physically restrain himself from ravishing you
he watches on with his jaw clenched, body rigid as his eyes feast upon your body like treasure. even through the thousands and thousands of people there, you'll always feel the burning of his eyes on you
and when your eyes meet him on a special part of a song, he's literally entranced by you. his breath held and he feels vulnerable, despite the millions of people there. when you're singing to him, it's to him
his praise to you is usually a nod of his head and a "good" but the more you both grow closer, the more you notice how touchy he can become and the more praise that falls from his lips (though it still can sound a little cold only because he feels awkward and doesn't think you need his reassurance that you're doing a good job)
"wear this pretty number f'me" when you both become super close, he likes it when you wear his favourite outfits. he'll hand them to you offering no explanation, only that it looks really good on you. secretly admiring you on stage when it glimmers and shimmers against the light because you look so beautiful
secretly has a few pictures on you on stage where you look so beautiful, he can't help but flick through them at the dead of night when he's alone.
will also secretly heart and save the videos on a private account of all the fan edits of you and him (a cliche but i like them 🤭)
will definitely notice the little skulls you have dangling from your outfit/jewellery and he smiles to himself, it's like an easter egg no one could guess
begged him to make an insta and after much reluctance and pleading he finally did.
he gained followers very quickly, his dm's full of people wanting to thirst over him to his workout routine
but you're the only one he follows <3
yes, he's also fallen victim to stalking your page and looking at old boyfriend with a smug and annoyed look
you got papped one time with the initials SR♡ on your necklace and it went crazy popular. everyone trying to figure who the mystery person was.
but simon looks on in pride, he might be called ghost to everyone else but between you both he'll always be your simon riley. a secret no one could know <3
cue soap and gaz screeching at the paparazzi pictures, having called on the whole thing when ghost was assigned to you in the first place
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stsgluver · 1 year
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synopsis. your husband still ignores the side effects of his cursed technique just so he can get a glimpse of you.
wc. 1.2k
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gojo satoru was born with six eyes — a special cursed technique that allowed for an extremely precise manipulation of cursed energy, down to an atomic level. it also blessed him with a beautiful pair of ocean blue eyes that were practically glowing. you’d never seen eyes so pretty.
the drawback to this gift? the skull-splitting migraines that came with the excessive information constantly being processed by his darting eyes.
as a child, the pain was manageable. gojo didn’t have much of a hold on the technique so his weaker state meant that the migraines were subdued as less information was being absorbed. however, as he grew older and more powerful, he would find himself bed ridden for at least twenty four hours if he did not take some sort of measure to protect his eyes.
his go to method was the sunglasses, almost 100% tinted — no other person would be able to clearly see out of them, if they could see anything at all. his sight, on the other hand, so impressive that he could distinguish people and the objects around them through the levels of cursed energy radiated.
still, accidents happened. whether it be him breaking his glasses, or forgetting them as young children do, he quickly learned the drawbacks to his technique. no normal medicine could relieve the pain and no sorcerer was strong enough to either.
gojo satoru met you at fifteen years old on his first day at tokyo jujutsu high. you wore a uniform similar to shoko's but your skirt was closer to the floor than it was to your thigh. your hair was longer than most female sorcerers and tied into a plait that hung against your back. in all honesty, you appeared quite plain to him. nothing particularly stood out. not even your cursed energy was particularly strong.
but you were gorgeous. completely and utterly gorgeous. his glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he analysed you from afar and it wasn't till a slap on the shoulder from geto that he snapped out of it.
within six months of knowing one another, the two of you were dating. you picked up on his habit to forgo his glasses around you pretty quickly and you definitely didn't miss the increasing amount of discomfort that would cause him.
"why do you do that?" you asked him one time.
the two of you were on a date in the park. a picnic blanket had been laid out and satoru had bought basically every single pastry and sweet at the bakery next to the park. you'd barely managed to make it through half till the both of you had given up and opted for cloud watching, giggling as he joked that one cloud in particularly looked very similar to nanami's 'emo' haircut.
satoru turned to his side to look at you questioningly, his head resting on his hand, "do what?"
"take off your glasses," you gestured to the folded pair of black glasses by his head. "i don't have to be a doctor to realise that you're in a lot of pain right now." the longer you lay there, the less satoru was actually looking up at the sky, instead just listening to you as you pointed out shapes and animals.
you knew the toll six eyes could take on his body.
he kept his eyes screwed shut when he wasn't looking at you to ease the the pain from the intense light that was too overpowering for his splitting headache. he winced when a kid screamed too loudly or ran too close and his fingers would push against the sides of his head frustratedly. as if he thought hard enough, the pain would just go away.
his lips tilted up into a lopsided grin, "but i see you."
you twisted so that your body was parallel to his. there was a faint blush on your cheeks now but you didn't look away from his eyes. how could you? "you always see me."
"not with those stupid glasses," satoru frowned, and you think it was the most serious you had seen him since you met. "seeing you and seeing your energy are two very different things."
"you're hurting yourself," you pointed out, placing one of your hands onto his cheek to gently stroke your thumb against his skin. his shoulders relaxed slightly and he leant into your touch like it was magic. like you were some drug that numbed the pain, replacing it with a special serotonin only you could give him.
"worth it." satoru kissed your palm.
that was his only response. worth it. and he stuck to it even a decade later.
"old habits die hard, i guess," satoru tried to laugh at his poorly made joke, but only a few shakey breaths came out. you'd been home thirty minutes and he'd already been sick twice. he'd curled himself up in your shared bed not long after the second time and that was where he was when you began scolding him for his carelessness.
"you are twenty eight," you rant exasperatedly, juxtaposing your voice that is no louder than a gentle whisper, "you have three first years to be looking after right now, but no, someone wanted to go out for dinner and someone didn't want to wear their glasses, and someone-"
satoru's much larger hand squeezed yours, "don't be cruel. i do this for you, my love." his blindfold was now on (you had made him put it on as soon as you had gotten home) but you know him well enough to know he was staring up at you with those lovesick eyes that made you weak at the knees.
"i just worry," your tone eased. you had no issue looking after your husband, you never had. it wasn't his fault that he got the migraines per se. yes, he could definitely be doing more to mitigate the severity, but he was stubborn. that had never changed. "i've seen you fight special grades. i hate seeing a stupid headache hurt you so much."
"lay with me."
"you're sweaty and sick." you scrunched up your nose, eyes flicking to the en suite you'd just cleaned and back to the cold flannel on his forehead as his body temperature fluctuated.
he shook his head, placing his index finger over his lips. "shhh, i'm passed that stage. pretty please? i need you."
gojo satoru was irresponsible at the best of times. he'd been raised to believe he was invincible and had been spoiled to always get what he had wanted. there was no telling him what to do when he'd already decided an hour ago exactly what he wanted to do.
but there was something about being needed by gojo satoru. you could never say no to him. so whether it be due to his own decision to stare into the eyes of his wife during a romantic night out, or an extensive fight against a cursed spirit, you would always be there to clean up and make sure he was wrapped up in bed all cosy.
and you would always lift up the covers and climb in once there was no more that you could do but simply act as a pillow for your husband as he tried to sleep off the throbbing pain.
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a/n. um so my previous post on this topic blew up and i’m so so grateful so i thought i’d expand a little on this hc for anyone that was interested. rambled a bit towards the end but i hope you still like it!! love you lots xxx
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lovebugism · 8 months
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soooo eddie hears or reads somewhere that birthmarks are where your lover from a past life used to kiss you
and as soon as he gets home he wants to make sure that in this present life r still feel this love and that the birthmarks remain the same until their next life together (ugh so cute 🥺)
i changed this up a wee bit but i hope u like it!! — you and eddie kiss birthmarks on the other for the next life (established relationship, fluff, 0.7k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Eddie traces shapes on your bare back, a post-sex ritual of sorts. It starts out innocent, usually — tiny hearts and flowers and planets that you try hard to guess. It almost always ends with him signing penises onto your spine and laughing out loud every time you realize.
He’s doing it mindlessly now. Touching you just to touch you. His finger trails up your back, circles over your shoulder blades, and then falls back down again. “Did you know you have a birthmark here?” he wonders, breaking the honeyed silence of his tiny bedroom.
Your brows furrow as he traces some sort of outline between your shoulder and spine. “Do I?” you murmur, muffled into the pillow.
“I think so. It’s really faint.”
“Maybe it’s just dirt,” you joke quietly. You don’t see Eddie pull his hand away to lick his finger, but you feel the wet touch of it when it swipes over your back. “Ew, Eddie!” you shout.
“It’s not dirt,” he confirms, choking back a laugh.
“I’ve ever noticed it, I guess. I don’t think I’ve ever looked that hard back there. Like, ever.”
Eddie scoffs, almost in disbelief. “That’s a shame…” he murmurs. 
His finger is gentle and featherlight as it trails down your bare back, leaving chill bumps in its wake. His hand dips below the sheets covering the bottom half of you. His palm spreads unabashedly over your ass, wide and warm. 
“…’Cause there’s a real nice view back here.”
You lift a heavy hand to swat at the boy beside you. It collides halfheartedly with his shoulder. He laughs again. “What?! I’m talking about the birthmark, babe! It’s cute— I love noticing new things about you.”
“Don’t people say that’s how you died in a past life? Wherever your birthmark is?”
Your tired eyes open to find Eddie’s screwed-up face. “Does that mean someone stabbed me in the ass? In, like, the middle ages or some shit? ‘Cause that’s a fucking gnarly way to go.”
“Better than being stabbed in the back… Literally.”
Eddie settles next to you with a huff. He lays on his stomach and shoves half his face into the pillow next to yours, all but melting into the mattress. He keeps tracing the mark on your back with an absentminded touch, never anything but gentle with you.
“Wanna know what I heard?” he mumbles.
“Hm?”
“I heard that birthmarks are where your lover used to kiss you— you know, in a past life or whatever,” he confesses, like it’s a deeply held secret. Then he shrugs his milky white shoulders. “That’s what my mom used to say, anyway. And that woman was never wrong.”
You smile quietly to yourself. Eddie doesn’t talk about his mom very often. You feel a special privilege to be hearing about her now.
“I believe it,” you hum.
His contented grin blooms into something wider and more boyish. “That means someone might’ve been kissing my ass in a past life.”
“That’s awful,” you grumble with a scrunched nose. “Now, I have to give you a new one.”
“Choose wisely, princess,” Eddie lilts and turns onto his back. He spreads his arms out wide and beams when you lean over him. “My future depends on it.”
You don’t think very long. Maybe a moment or more. You press your lips to his chest, just below the faded tattoo on his pec and right over his beating heart. You smile when you pull away, all giddy like a teenage girl, and lay back down again.
Eddie’s chest sparkles with so much adoration it hurts. He laughs it off anyway. “Alright, cheeseball— It’s my turn.”
“You have to do it in the same place!” you argue in a tiny voice when the boy lays over you. He props his weight on his elbows and entwines his legs with yours. The heavy closeness feels like heaven.
“Why?”
“So we’ll have matching birthmarks! And then, when we’re in the next life or whatever, and we look like totally different people, we’ll know we loved each other.”
Eddie scoffs. “I’ll know.”
“How?”
“How will I know that I loved you?” he repeats, like the answer’s obvious and far too silly to ponder. You nod, and he shrugs. “‘Cause I have to. I can’t help it.”
Something warm blooms behind your ribcage. “And I’m the cheesy one?” you tease with a big, girlish grin.
“It’s your fault. You bring the worst outta me, honey.”
You laugh when he drops his head to your chest, pressing a kiss over your heart and lingering there. You pray it stains forever.
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Text
Friday Night Magic
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AO3 Link -- I'm pretty sure this was an old ask, but I don't have the original request anymore. Sorry!
Your husband of many years, John Price, has been keeping your secret: you love it when he plays doctor, giving you a happy little pill that makes you really sleepy, really fast. The best part is that you never know how you’ll be woken up. But, when he suggests that you can still play together even while he’s in the middle of hosting game night with his mates, you decide to trust in the fact that the doctor really does know best. 
TW: non-consensual sex, drugged sex, nc-somno, rape, gangbang, betrayal, anal and vaginal sex, references to past rape events
His hand was doing nothing for him, and John hadn’t drawn a usable spell in the past six turns. He was mana-screwed and bored with his lieutenant’s penchant for playing control decks. But, it was Friday, and that’s all that mattered. The tired captain always looked forward to Fridays when they were off-mission. It meant that he got to drink through his whiskey collection, smoke way too damn many cigars, and play Magic: the Gathering with his mates. All work and no play makes John a dull boy, after all. 
Friday nights also meant that you were tucked away in your room, playing with yourself while your man played cards, often overstimulating yourself to the point of tears so that when he was ready to fuck you, his cheeks pink and his breath smelling of whiskey and tobacco, he could go for hours, his fat dick drowning in the milky mess you’d made. He was like your very own sex machine, pounding away at your drooling hole, half-drunk and eager to have you in every position he could dream of. 
Sometimes, though, John’s Friday nights were extra special. Right now, he couldn’t even concentrate on the game. He just wanted to check on you to see if he was about to get a very rare kind of lucky. Fingers crossed, he excused himself from the table and padded into his bedroom, nudging the door open a crack to see where you were. 
You were laying in bed atop your plush blanket, dressed in a matching mesh set, a pale pink bra and crotchless panty, lazily touching yourself with your deft fingers and reading smut on your phone. You didn’t even remove your hand from your clit when he walked in, continuing to swirl slow circles around its sensitive head, rolling your hips just a little to help you feel the slow, delightful drag of your pleasure.  
“Hey, pretty bird,” John purred, sitting beside you, feeling the mattress sink under his weight. 
“Hey, baby. You done with your game?” You asked, peeked up over the edge of your phone before turning back to your scrolling.
“Not yet,” John leaned forward and kissed your nipple through the fabric of your bra, the thin mesh letting you feel the hot, wet whisper of his tongue.
You moaned for him, a lovely, ragged sound. It awakened something mean and primal in his chest. You pouted a bit when he pulled away, your bottom lip bulging out and showing him a small frown,
“I thought you wanted to play doctor tonight.”
Jackpot. John was a lucky man, indeed. He felt the blood from his core rush down to his prick, making his flesh instantly start to swell. He loved playing doctor. 
“We can still play,” he began to tease you, snaking his hand up your ankle and calf, his palm warming your skin. 
“Aren’t your mates still here?” You asked, a hint of scandal in your tone. 
John cocked an eyebrow, questioning your inquiry, a bit put out by your resistance,
“Don’t you wanna take your medicine, love?” His hand slipped slowly over the meat of your inner thigh, his longest fingers reaching just past the seal of your lips, barely dipping into your swollen, drooling hole, “Feels like you’ve got a fever.”
“You think so?” You smiled coyly up at him, putting down your phone and playing with your nipples in front of him, pinching and shaking them back and forth through the pink fabric. 
John nodded, “I think you should take a pill, yeah? Better nip this in the bud before you get sick, sweetheart.”
“The doctor knows best!” You winked at him and rooted around in the bottom of your beside table.
You pulled out a little purple pill bottle, tipped the lid, and placed a white tablet in his open palm. John removed his other hand from between your legs and used the fingers that had been inside of you to gently lift the pill to your lips. 
“Say ahh,” he commanded, almost all of the softness gone from his voice. 
“Ahh…” You made a long noise with your throat, tipping your head back and sticking out your tongue. When you felt the pill land in place, you flipped it under your tongue to allow it to dissolve. 
“Good girl,” John praised you, letting you suckle on his slick-covered fingers as you liked, enjoying how you were sucking him down to his knuckles as if you were practicing for his cock. Then, once the pill was gone, you released his hand and kissed his palm, the sticky sheen of your lip gloss making a little popping noise as you did. 
“Thank you, doctor. I know you’ll make me feel so much better,” you smiled, 
“I will, sweetheart. Come say goodnight to the boys.”
“Okay, but I need my robe,” you said, your voice laced with heavy apprehension. John wasn’t asking, though, and he helped you stand up from the bed, taking your phone and wrapping your silk nightgown around you, doing the bare minimum for your modesty. 
You fixed yourself in your vanity mirror and followed John out into the main room, holding the robe tight against your body as you emerged. 
“Hey, bonnie,” Soap’s face lit up, “Good to see ya.”
“You, too! Just wanted to come say good night before I went off to bed.”
“Oh, no. You gotta join us for a game, babes. It’s been too long,” Gaz chided you playfully, grabbing you by the shoulder and guiding you to the table. 
You looked up at John for help. But, he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew you only had a few more minutes before the pill would start to take effect, and he also knew that you were way too shy to tell them the truth about your naughty little habit. 
What could you say? Oh, sorry, I can’t play tonight. I took an extra-strength sleeping pill because I want my husband to fuck me while I’m helpless and knocked out cold. 
John smiled, watching you squirm and rack your brain for any and every excuse to back out,
“Oh, no, there’s no more chairs. I’ll just —“
“Si’ down,” Simon said curtly, grabbing your hip and pulling you down onto his lap, letting your legs straddle one of his huge thighs, “You can play my hand, Mrs. Price.”
The fact that your robe had ridden up your legs almost to reveal your thick asscheeks was only a secondary concern. The primary one was that your well-rubbed pussy was already leaving a damp stain on Simon’s jeans. His thigh was as hard as a stone, heavy with muscle, and he was holding your hip hard enough to keep you fully pressed to him. The only movement you could make was to grind back against him, which you had to do every time you lost your balance on his leg. 
You tried your best to pay attention to the game, but you were struggling to stay alert. The pill’s effects were making your head foggy and your eyes droop. Your fingers were too weak to hold the cards, and when they dropped from your hand, your husband’s smile turned sinister.
“Feelin’ alright there, love?” Gaz asked, a hint of teasing in his voice.
“Um…” You tried to form a sentence, but the words wouldn’t come out.
“Felt a bit under the weather earlier, wasn’t she? Took her pill, though. Makes her a bit drowsy,” Price explained, sitting next to Simon, rubbing your back, not seeming to care that his hands were shifting the collar of the robe out of place and making it hang down your shoulder, revealing the top of your sheer bra to the whole room. 
You tried to fix it, but you were slowly losing control of your arms, feeling like you were floating in a dreamy sea. 
“Dinnae fash, hen,” Johnny grinned, folding his hand on the table, “We’ll tuck you in, won’t we, lads?”
“Aye, that we will,” Simon’s voice was deep and low, spoken right into your ear. 
You looked up at John for help, realizing that he wasn’t going to save you. You thought he would scoop you up and take you back to bed, or at least make some excuse and send his men home, but no. He was letting them pull at your robe so that it hung around your waist, watching them reveal your ample tits in your see-through bra, doing nothing but looking pleased as could be. 
“John…” You slurred, feeling yourself slip away to a drugged sleep, hearing his words right before your head fell to the table in front of you,
“Sweet dreams, love.”
You were gone from the world, floating in between being awake and being asleep. And it almost seemed like you could feel yourself being fucked. The pleasure was there, and yet, you couldn’t move or scream. You couldn't open your eyes. But, John would never allow that to happen. It was just a dream, right?
When you first awoke in one of your windows of consciousness, you were still at the table, but something was… wrong. You hadn’t moved from Simon’s lap, but now, he was moving you. You were split over his cock, and he was buried, balls-deep in your pussy, fondling your breasts under your mesh bra. The others were laughing, talking, joking, carrying on their game, but their eyes leered at you like hyenas waiting their turn to sink their teeth into the neck of a caught gazelle.
“Mmngh, ungh,” you tried to speak, but you sounded drunk, “John?”
“No, princess,” Simon snarled in your ear, “Your big man’s lettin’ us jump the line, yeah? Nice of him, innit? Fuck, I love Fridays.”
“What?” You were so confused. Why was Simon talking as if this had happened before? You were so ashamed, and John was right beside you. How could he let this happen? “John… Please…”
You tried to reach out to him, but your arms only lifted to his knee, trying to grab at his shirt or hand, anything to make him help you. Simon’s dick was steadily pounding into your swollen cunt, and John was just smoking his cigar and laughing at your feeble attempts to get free. 
“Hush, now, love. Riley loves playin’ doctor, just like me. In fact, the boys have been takin’ good care of you every time they stop by, haven’t you?”
“Aye,” Johnny held his whiskey up to you as if to give you a toast, his eyes wide and full of a sick sort of hunger, “That bonnie cunt gets me through the week, lass. And ye keep it so wet for us. Such a good wee missus you’ve got, Cap’n.”
“Can’t thank you enough for the hospitality, Mrs. Price,” Gaz nodded to Soap, agreeing with his crude statement, taking another swig of his drink as his other hand moved under the table, moving rhythmically, obviously jerking himself off to the sight of you being speared on Simon’s big dick. 
Suddenly, you felt Simon’s hands grip your hips on both sides of your body, holding you down onto the base of his cock, and you knew that he was about to come. You squirmed, wishing you could muster up any kind of strength, feeling as if you were still dreaming, 
“No… No! Stop… Please… Don’t come in me…”
John cupped your cheek as his lieutenant dumped load after load of his sticky come into your body, his cock pulsing inside of you like a heartbeat, each throb of its huge shaft was another thick pool of his spend, turning your stomach and bringing desperate tears to the corners of your eyes.
“Shh, shh, shh,” John purred, “Take the medicine Riley’s givin’ you, love. It’ll make you feel so much better. You want mine next, hm? Will that make it right, pretty girl?”
“Unghhh…” You felt your body betray you, your pussy needing to come. Simon had one of his hands working quick, lurid circles around your clit, and now he was dragging you to a climactic peak, forcing you to come on his spent cock. 
As you felt yourself spin out of control, your legs began to shake, giving away your moment of pleasure to the whole table. 
“That’s a good girl,” John praised you, brushing a stray lock of hair out of your face. 
“Fuck, she’s so wet. I think she likes an audience, Cap,” Simon observed, planting sloppy kisses onto your neck as you trembled from the aftershocks of your bliss. 
They barely allowed you to cool down before John said,
“C’mere, love. My turn.”
Simon lifted you off of his lap with Price’s help, your robe fluttering to the floor. Your husband turned you on your back, laying you on the table across the cold wood and stacks of strewn playing cards. You tried to roll away, tried to sit up, but it was no use. The drugs had their hold on you, and you felt yourself fading back into a deep sleep. 
Just before the blackness took you, you saw John lining up his fat, drooling cock at your entrance, sliding his head through Riley’s come with little resistance. 
“Mmm-fuck. You’re so tight even after Riley’s prick, love. This pussy can just take so much cock, huh? Perfect girl.”
You slipped away into sleep yet again, and it seemed like you had only been out for a few minutes. You woke again in the same position, with your husband brutally pounding away at your hole, stuffing himself inside with wet, slick, slapping sounds. 
Hands were roughly groping your tits from the other side of the table, none of which belonged to your husband, and as they played with your nipples, they began to pinch and pull at them, making you cry out. 
“Look who’s awake again,” John cooed, his voice laced with farcical pity, “Don’t worry. You’ll get Johnny and Kyle soon enough.”
You couldn’t hold on. You tried to struggle against the shadowy slumber that pressed down on all your senses, but it was no use. 
When you woke up again, you were in bed. Your pillow and blanket were gone, but you recognized the soft sheets. Then, you realized you were moving. The whole mattress was shaking back and forth, and Johnny was behind you, shoving his leaking dick into your asshole. 
“Unghff-fuck! You back among the living, bonnie? Your tight little hole just grabbed me like a fuckin’ vice.”
“S-s-stop. Please…” You managed to whisper, your throat feeling sore for some reason. You tried not to think about why that would be.
“Cannae stop, lass. Your man’s dead set on findin’ the cure for what ails you, and I’m here to help. Based on how wet your wee slit has become, I think we’re on the right track.”
Just when you heard his words tease you about your wetness, you felt his fingers slip inside of your pussy, three of them, cruelly thick, following his cock’s rhythm, stretching you wider than you’d ever been in your whole life. 
You tried to cry out, to scream, to call for help, but it was no use. So, you melted into his efforts instead, feeling your muscles flutter against him, threatening to make you come from his anal sex. He didn’t seem to notice your mounting pleasure, or if he did, he didn’t much care. He just continued to thrust into your holes, slamming his stocky weight into you, making your cheek sink into the mattress as you lay face-down, ass-up for your husband’s best friend.
The last thing you heard as you fell into unconsciousness was Johnny’s moans, and his comment of surprise,
“Oh, bonnie girl. You gonna come for me? Fuck, yes…”
Your next moment of lucidity was in the living room. You were on the couch. Well, your face was laying against the crook of someone’s neck, your forehead pushing into the fabric upholstery, as you were being fucked in their lap on the sofa. You tried to lift yourself to see what was happening to you, and as you did, you saw that you were riding Simon again, straddling his legs as he fucked his cock up into your dripping hole from below. His mouth was suckling from your nipple, your bra missing, latched on and unwilling to let go, leaving little hickies behind as his teeth teased the sensitive nub. 
But, he wasn’t alone. There was… something… happening to your asshole. You craned your neck to see Kyle standing behind you, fucking his long dick into your ass as Simon pounded into you from below. 
You let out a long moan, the pleasure that you’d been receiving clearly coursing through you despite your lack of consent. You had been coming and coming and coming, and you hadn’t been awake for any of it. 
“Holy shit,” Garrick growled, his grip on your flank tightening hard enough to bruise, “She’s gonna come again. Can’t fuckin’ believe it. Feels so goddamn good.”
“Fuck,” Simon popped his mouth away from your chest to lean his head back, relaxing as he rode the waves of your impromptu orgasm, “Oh, look. She’s awake.”
Kyle’s huge hand fisted your hair and pulled you back so he could see your face,
“I dunno. I wouldn’t call that awake. How much did she take?”
“Cap gave her two more when she was with him and Soap, so we’ve got time, Sergeant. Don’t we, love?” Simon grabbed your face without care, squeezing your cheeks and making you look at him through hooded, tired eyes, “Oh, yeah, we do. All the time in the world.”
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Fic #99 is in the bag... next one will be #100! Thanks to everyone for supporting me through my absolute descent into madness. lol
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 10 months
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Really? Thank you so much, you are so very sweet. I was just going to request some pent-up, passionate, loving, wedding night sex with Miggy because they've wanted to get handsy for a long time but couldnt because of the fact that they were in public and now they're married and just want to celebrate privately.
Thank you so much, again, you're so kind for that
hii lovie!! :(( you’re so sweet, ofc, anytime !! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌
MR AND MRS O’HARA
miguel o’hara x fem!reader
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word count. 630
warnings. 18+ only!! unprotected pinv, size kink? bit of teasing, slow, lovey-dovey sex, think that’s all. mdni
You both spent the day cautious, declining touches from one another, far too worried that it may lead to something else - that it may lead to a quickie in the storage room during the reception. So, to deflect the situation, you and Miguel would keep kisses and lingering touches to an absolute minimum - wanting to wait until night when you'd finally be alone.
Luckily for you both, that moment eventually came around. 
Miguel was all over you from the very second he got you alone - lips latched on yours, working over them as if were deprived of your delicate touch -which he was- briskly walking you backwards into your grand wedding suite, undressing yourselves. He made haste movements as he undid the back of your dress, desperately wanting to feel as much of your skin in as little as possible.
He led you to the edge of the bed, his towering height peering down at you, staring in awe at the measly pair of lace white underwear you wore specially for tonight - for him. He slips his large hands past your throat and into the backs of your hair, holding behind your neck, forcing you to peek up at him.
Even though he was desperate for you, he remained gentle, touching and caressing your heated skin with love and kindness, utter compassion as he roamed your upper body. 
He mutters a soft praise against your lips as he guides you, laying you on the mattress behind.
You adjust, scooching up the bed, bringing Miguel with you so he hovers above, his massive build caging you to the sheets. He shifts his weight, balancing on one forearm to slip a hand between you, sliding his palm down your jittering stomach and all the way down between your thighs.
"Don't look down there. Look up at me, cariño," Miguel softly mumbles, searching for your gaze as he teased over the mound in your underwear - thumbing over your clit through the damp fabric. Whispering against your lips, "Such pretty eyes."
All teasing stopped when he slipped himself from your grasp, moving down the bed to sit on his knees between your legs. He palms over the large, bulging tent in his boxers before pulling his cock out over the waistband, rolling over the reddened, leaking tip. He keeps his gaze fixed on you, watching how you gulped and squirmed under his attention, eyes flickering between his fat dick and pretty face.
Itching forward, he slides his thick head through your folds, parting your glistening pussy, collecting your juices with his cock. 
"Been waitin' for you all day," he husks, his voice hoarse - struggling to even his breathing. "All day."
"I know— me too," you roughly exhale, screwing your eyes closed when you feel him trail his cock a little lower - down to where you wanted him.
You wanted to savour this moment - hang onto it, but you've been waiting far too long, and if you continued the teasing, neither of you would last long.
He places a firm grip at the base of his cock, guiding himself towards you, slowly pushing his head through your plushy folds and into your sweet cunt. He stills, letting you adjust around his thick tip, allowing your greedy pussy to swallow his cock at your own pace.
Miguel's chest is finally flush with yours once more, his broad torso caging you to the mattress - large palms cupping your face, lips smothering yours, swallowing your pretty moans. His desperate touch remains delicate, only caressing you with tender love and care as he slowly winds into you - giving you soft, gentle strokes, nice and slow. 
Treating his new, beautiful wife with all the love and warmth she deserves <3
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