#and i mean it there are no simple answers and there shouldn't be
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🌷Pick a Picture:🍨⊹˚. ♡ What's coming up for you on February?🎀 ⊹˚. ♡
🎀𝗜'𝗺 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹🎀
•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3
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⋆.˚🦋༘⋆Pile 1: Queen of Swords, 3 of Cups and 2 of Swords.
This February, everything may feel a little… random. Like you can't see clearly what's happening or what's coming next. And while it can be frustrating not to have all the answers, the Moon encourages you not to force things. Sometimes not knowing what's going on is a sign that you need to take a step back and allow yourself to feel without trying to rationalize everything.
You may be faced with situations this month that you may have been avoiding. Questions may arise about your relationships, your job, or even your current identity. And even though you may not perceive it now, it's all part of a developmental process. The confusion you're experiencing isn't harmful; on the contrary, it's like a "reminder" from the cosmos that there are elements within you that need to be heard. There will be times when you feel like the pieces are starting to fall into place, but there will also be days when you feel completely disoriented. And that's okay. You don't need to have everything figured out right away. It's a month to meditate, not to rush into solutions.
My recommendation would be not to put too much pressure on yourself. If you find yourself in a situation where things aren't clear, you shouldn't force yourself to make sure everything has immediate meaning. Keep an eye on your feelings, pay attention to the smallest details, and most of all, be kind to yourself. Clarity will come when it's needed, you just have to trust the process and yourself.
🧁Song:
⋆.˚🦋༘⋆Pile 2: The Sun, 4 of Wands and Queen of Wands.
You might feel like the pieces are starting to fall into place again this February, and that will give you a sense of clarity that you haven't experienced in a long time. You might feel more stimulated, more optimistic, or simply intent on giving your best. If there was something that was overwhelming you or that had stopped you, this is the moment when things begin to take a positive turn.
This month, you will experience thefeeling that something inside you is "waking up" in a sense. Perhaps you were already carrying some uncertainties or fears, but now it will give you the strength to face them, i heard "I'm going to put all my effort" as i was channeling your message. It is a favorable month to start a new project, undertake those dreams that you had saved or take on some circumstance that was going around in your mind. You will notice that the energy will be in your benefit. It is as if everything begins to flow without so much effort, like when you discover the right route and everything seems to be in tune.
Even if something is not exactly what you anticipated, your optimistic attitude and your clarity will help you to continue moving forward with confidence. Enjoy everything that this month brings with it. Sometimes we concentrate so much on the objectives that we forget to enjoy the trip. Take advantage of the minimal things, those that give us happiness in the simple things.
🧁Song:
⋆.˚🦋༘⋆Pile 3: 8 of Wands, The Chariot and King of Cups.
This month feels really "fast" to put it in a way, I think it will pass really quickly for you. Surprises can be a bit disconcerting at first, but in reality, they are bringing great potential. Some circumstances could change in unexpected ways, but that is just one component of the process. Don't worry if you feel that things are not progressing as you anticipated. Sometimes, the most significant transformations appear when we least expect them, and the final outcome can be much more favorable than you imagine.
This month could be a bit of a roller coaster, in the broadest sense. Some situations will evolve quickly, and you may feel like you are on a boat, but don't worry. There will be moments of uncertainty, but if you continue to evolve with the transformations, opportunities will begin to arise out of nowhere. It could be a good time to take a little more risk, as everything seems to be going in your favor.
Don't try to control everything. Life has its own rhythm, and sometimes it's best to allow yourself to be guided by the course of things. The surprises that will come this month will take you to unexpected places, and even though you can't anticipate what will happen, trust that everything has a reason to be the way it is. Let go of what you can't handle and continue to progress with the assurance that better things are yet to come <3
🧁Song:
💐Thank you for reading and tell me if it resonated💐
#kpop tarot#pac reading#pac#tarot reading#tarot community#tarot#personal reading#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a card reading#tarot witch#tarotblr#tarotcommunity#tarotdaily#tarotoftheday#witchblr#tarot blog#pac tarot#pick a picture#free tarot readings#pac tarot reading#pac readings#psychic readings#pick a photo#free tarot reading#daily tarot#free tarot#tarot pick a card#tarot love reading#gilmore girls
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There is a very difficult line to walk between "Children aren't done maturing and you can't hold them too responsible for the dumb things they say and do" and "Part of being taken seriously is facing consequences when you say or do dumb things"
It's patronizing and ageist to dismiss someone's thoughts and beliefs only due to their age, but it's unfair to hold undeveloped children to the same standards of behavior we hold adults.
So when do you stop treating them like children that don't know any better and start treating them like adults that are wrong? When they demand respect? When they enter adult discussions? When they hit the age of 18?
I don't have a simple answer, and frankly I shouldn't. It's not a simple problem. It's just something I think we all need to keep in mind as we share spaces.
And to any kid/teen reading this: You have dumb ideas about how the world works and how it should work because you're new to it. You have good ideas about how the world works and how it should work because you live in it. You cannot tell the difference right now. You will eventually learn better, but right now you can't.
Understand not all push back you receive from adults is because they think you're a dumb kid. Sometimes you are just dumb.
If you want to be treated like an adult when you're right, you will be treated like an adult when you're wrong.
#is this a long post#idk#just something that's been rolling in my brain#think piece#if you want the authority of an adult you have to shed the protections of a child#you don't get both#and it's really hard to tell how much authority vs protection an older child needs#and i mean it there are no simple answers and there shouldn't be#a simple answer would leave too much forgotten#the real world isn't simple
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consume
s. in a world of ghouls and humans, you've got a crush on a really hot guy with tattoos, but that doesn't mean he's a ghoul right?
w.c. 5.9k
w. fem! reader, ghoul!sukuna! x reader , fluff!, smut!, cannibalism!, gore!
a/n: this is a continuance on this thought of mine :)I just wrote this to get this out of my system :/ don't think I cooked as I usually do! but feel free to indulge in ghoul sukuna to at least scratch the itch.
"is that him y/n?" your friend's eyes widen and she grabs you by the shoulders, staring into the void of your soul "go up to him. now."
you came for drinks with your friends just a couple minutes ago. and you were so unaware until now, that across from you is the random hot guy you always see on your way home.
your friend, the one bolstering you to go up to him, has heard of this crush. considering you can't spend a day without talking about the hotness of this man.
"I-I, " you start to stutter, "I shouldn't. I see him all the time around the neighborhood and he's never so much as bat an eye at me or acknowledged my presence."
"and I do not care," she huffs, turning you around and beginning to push you in his direction at the bar, "no guy is capable of rejecting your beauty when its waved right in front of their face."
you hear her huffing and can probably make out how flushed her cheeks are from going against your planted feet on the ground, scared to go up to the man nearing you, even though its you coming closer. you feel your heartbeat quicken by at least 50 beats and the adrenaline from such a simple act is rushing through your veins.
until you're there. and he's doesn't even move to face you, his eyes just dart to you.
"hi." you manage to choke out.
he smells like like leather and stone cold vanilla. it's a smell you won't be able to get out of your head tonight.
he looks like he's about to sigh and say something to send you walking away, but you speak again before he can dismiss you, possibly, "I think you're handsome and I wanted to talk to you."
"you looking for a quick fuck?" his voice rumbles so nonchalantly as he takes a sip of his whiskey
"no." you answer in a heartbeat, quickly moving your head from side to side as a sign of your counter to the idea, "I don't think I would be this nervous if I was just looking for that."
"Then what are you looking for?" He's suddenly looming over you, body now turned to face you and his early stance of dismissal gone. although you don't know if that's what you prefer now considering this is so much more intimidating. he's squinting his eyes at you just a tad and you can tell he's biting his cheek.
"something that doesn't hurt me." is all you can speak into existence, softly.
he stares at you
he stares at you for a long while, his brown eyes so light, they're almost red. it's intense and you don't know what he's playing at.
he gets up abruptly, the chair that was beneath him screeching, face unnerved when he reaches a hand out expectantly, "your phone."
your eyes widen and you fumble around for your phone before planting it in his hand.
"what's your name," he says as he presses what you suppose is his contact information into your phone.
you hear a ring coming from his back pocket when you answer, "y/n"
"sukuna," he replies back curtly before handing you back yours and moving to shut off his phone. he then takes out a ten dollar bill and puts it on the countertop before turning to leave, "stay with your friends, it's not safe on your own out there."
you hadn't noticed at all that your friend had left you to talk to the familiar stranger, sukuna now, at some point during the interaction. when you turned around, your group was staring between you and the ominous figure leaving as if they were watching a thriller movie and needed a bowl of popcorn to shove their hands into.
when you were on the way home by cab that night, you received a text, that seemed a manifestation due to how hard you prayed for the next buzz from your phone to be from him.
it was a curt reminder that he would meet you outside your apartment--that he also asked for the address of--the following morning so he could take you out. and nothing more. it was so curt, that although he was still inviting you out, you made it your mission to dress your most attractive the next morning.
you notice he's already outside of the door when peek your head out the door early, doubtful of how early he would be, which he was. sukuna had gotten there ten minutes beforehand, at the least. and although you weren't that mentally prepared to be out with him, you sucked it up and tried your best to confidently walk out the door when he noticed you.
"looks like we're both early," you joke a bit shyly, fiddling with the straps of your purse
"if you need more time you can go back up," he says, having straightened his posture from leaning against the wall and now looking at the busying street, as if to stay aware of his surroundings
"no it's okay, I've been ready for about half an hour now," you smile meekly in embarrassment
the comment makes him flick an eye to you, "should have told me."
"for?" you blink up at him, unaware
"for me to show up earlier," he clicks with his tongue before looking to the left and motioning for the both of you to start walking
it's about ten minutes into your silent walk to who knows where that you hear him speak again without previous poking, "you eat breakfast?"
"yes, actually! it was a lot so im still pretty full, considering the time."
"alright," he nods before locking eyes on something and placing a surprisingly gentle hand on the small of your back to maneuver you to your left, "it's here."
and the small entrance he guides you through leads to an immediate splash of greenery
a garden, a large one, surrounded by something you couldn't make out
"it's a bookshop."
and now you could make out the shelves through the surrounding windows
there's a number of different flowers surrounding you and you can't help but dash to a rather beautiful spawn of peonies.
"they're so beautiful!" you bite your lip in excitement, like you'd just seen a puppy. and that's when you spot a small pathway leading to a shrouded bench.
and you get an idea, "do you think they have Takatsuki in there?"
sukuna quirks a brow at you, "you like that insane shit?"
"I like creepy stuff." you blink at him, shamelessly stating the interest of yours
"come on," he juts his chin towards the far end of the garden, where the entrance was
moments later, you come out with a hardcover edition of The Black Goat's Egg you'd been vying for for months, purchased by sukuna, who asked, "that the one you want?" when you said yes, he plucked it from your hands and paid for it at the register.
"thank you." you say in appreciation when you set your purse down next to you on the bench, and flip to the beginning page of the book while sukuna adjusts himself next to you.
the handsome giant says nothing and instead drapes an arm over the side of the bench behind you and flicks his eyes towards the book, waiting for you to read like you'd promised so.
"you'll like it," you smile at him before subconsciously sinking just a little into his personal space and adjusting the book comfortably onto your lap, "ahem..."
you had been reading for about an hour and a half now, and sukuna showed no signs of distaste for the book. he hadn't said a word since the moment you started reading, listening and skimming over the book with you.
"mother's hands carved out the veins beneath his chest, not me. from her nails came the rotten smell of hardened blood. oh this is my favorite part. but I could feel the pulsing of his lungs on my hands. how his heart still beat when I had opened his chest. the breath of life beneath my palms, inhaling and exhaling. my excitement brewed, a woman's touch knew nothing of the enthrallment this brought me-"
grrrrrrrrrr
embarrassing
there's no way in hell your stomach just did that in front of him. you try to mutter a quick sorry and pick back up where you left off, but the moment you open your mouth again after the quick apology, sukuna interrupts you.
"it's time for you to eat."
why did he say that like you were some sort of pet.
he was such a serious speaker sometimes.
while you start to gather your things, sukuna already stands up and reaches a hand out for you to stabilize yourself on.
"I don't think its time time," you say while taking his hand, not wanting to go back to your apartment yet and finish reading yet, "I won't cook normally until another half hour from-"
"you said you liked the same type of pasta the guy was eating in the book right," he cut you off, levitating a hand over your shoulders that simply wooed you into stepping next to him at a comfortable pace while he moved for the both of you to cross the street.
"yeah..."you agreed, catching another whiff of his cologne in the breeze
and that's how you wound up with him ordering a full plate for you and a boring cup of coffee for himself moments later at a restaurant.
"you sure you're not hungry?" you questioned worriedly, eyes searching for any illness on him, scared to grab the fork before you
"I'm cutting, I'll cook at home." he shrugged
"cook what then?" you almost pout, feeling bad that you were going to be feasting in front of him while he merely had a coffee
he looked you dead in the eyes and said before taking a sip of his coffee, "steak."
"ghoul." you shot back while reaching for your fork and making towards the pasta
for the first time, you saw irritation on sukuna's face in the form of a twitch of his nose, "beef. steak."
he seemed so serious and you couldn't help but stick your tongue out playfully, "I know, but you might as well be one if you're that built from so much protein. heh."
sukuna let a tsk out and took a sip of his coffee, "eat your food."
you wound up getting walked home by sukuna later after the meal, a full stomach and new book, both provided by him upon your return.
"thank you again for the book" the corners of your lips quirked up a little cutely, "and for the meal too."
"you still need to eat something later tonight."
"I will" you nod and look up at him earnestly before reaching for his hand and gesturing for him to be level with you.
"goodbye," you land a quick peck on his cheek and let go of his hand, already rushing towards your building door and entering the code in as fast as possible. you couldn't look back, and didn't .
this pattern of dates repeats itself quite often after. sukuna's taken you to what seems like every bookstore in the city and purchased whatever makes your fancy every time. he's had you read for him. he's bought you every sweet and dessert you've wanted. he's brushed a crumb of a macaroon of your lips, carried you bridal style to avoid getting your shoes wet in a large street puddle, the most endearing things, albeit stoically, but
he's never kissed you
you think it has something to do with how stoic he is. maybe there's some sort of damage with him. he's so immersed whenever he's with you, learning and observing you, but it's always felt as if he's keeping part of himself watered down with you.
a hint of snarkiness has left him before, you saw so when a little girl in a park punched an older boy for yanking on her pigtail.
and he never takes you out at night. he hasn't specifically said he doesn't want to go out during the late hours of the afternoon or night, but he always manages to schedule your outings to end before so.
it's why you bite the bullet, and make today's lunch, into a dinner hosted by you, with the convenient excuse that your work asked you to come in for finishing touches on a project you'd be presenting next week and couldn't make it to lunch.
sukuna agreed with no qualms, that you couldn't see through the screen of your phone of course, and even asked if you needed any ingredients.
your chicken had already been in the oven for about twenty minutes when he had knocked on your door--you had texted him the code to your building earlier.
"hi." you breathed, opening the door for him to come in, "I put this chicken recipe I found online to bake. it's supposed to be healthy."
sukuna walked further into your apartment and analyzed his surroundings while you yapped away.
"it's probably not like the steak you eat, maybe less in protein, but I think you'll like it. I don't think I could make steak that good for someone else on the first try..."
"your hand," he slightly quirks a brow up and gestures towards your right hand, two bandages on your middle and pointer finger.
"tomato dicing mishap," you give him a sheepish closed mouth smile while raising your hand up, "it's a bit more annoying than a paper cut. bleeds more than one."
"I could order for here-"
"no! it's okay. I'm done anyway. I need to take out the chicken in a bit anyways." and you move to grab the controller to your tv, "do you have anything in mind you want to watch?”
“the news.”
you slightly furrow your brows, but accommodate to his request then leave the controller on the coffee table, "you see something happen?"
"just don't like not knowing what's going on," he huffs gruffly while eyeing the ongoing news report for the day.
"A ghoul has atrociously murdered and consumed various members of our community. last night's victim is unidentifiable, but his age can be estimated to be about thirty. surveillance cameras near the area show no capture evidence of who could have done this, but reports and evidence point to it being the same perpetrator of the last couple of murders this month-"
you walk to your oven to get the chicken out and start to put on your mittens, "at least it's not girls."
sukuna's eyes flicker towards you, interested in what you're saying, "you should be scared."
you're setting the hot pan on the countertop when you look back at him, eyes clean of any fear, "but he's been eating shit guys."
sukuna turns his body to you and crosses his arms, as if he's about to chew your ear off for saying that, but you continue, moving to plate the food for both of you, "all the bodies they've reported are all well distinguished low life perverts, some have even tried to chase me down when I say no. one of them tried taking a picture under my skirt once."
you place the plates on either side of the dining table for the both of you and sit down, "whatever ghoul that's getting his full with them doesn't scare me. we know he eats a lot, if those guys weren't enough, he'd go for girls already. and before you bite my head off for not being scared, you should know by now that I rarely go out at night, especially not without someone with me. now sit, food's ready."
sukuna eyes moves towards the dining table and eyes your dish a bit wearily as he slides his chair out for him to sit on.
when he sits, you speak again, "I got the recipe from one of those super healthy bodybuilders, so it should be good enough for you. plus, I'm a good cook."
sukuna still stairs into the void, where our plate should be, but he makes for the knife and fork you put for him, "thank you."
and he enjoyed it, you think. he didn't say it was good, but he finished his plate diligently. if he hated it, he would have said something, or shown it on his face.
"I'll wash the dishes," he said when you were about to reach for his plate and instead he took both of yours and got up.
"oh, okay," you observed as he turned on the faucet, his back to you, he looked out of place in the small spot, "I can start putting a movie, you liked when I read Howl's Moving Castle, I have the movie for it."
You looked for a response, and you received one in the form of a nod, so you stood up and sat on the couch, looking through your streaming services.
sukuna finishes faster than you expected
"I need to take a piss," he says as he walks towards the restroom
"okay," you responded without hesitation as you tried to restart the movie considering your streaming service was glitching on you and the movie was already in the ends credits--you watched it that often.
you solved the problem quicker than you thought, because when sukuna comes back from peeing, you've already got the movie paused at the beginning, waiting for him to sit so you can press play.
and when he does sit, it's at a distance from you, which you don't make a comment about because hey, maybe he's just a guy with boundaries.
and it's halfway through the movie that you have barely even paid attention to your favorite movie of all time. the music you always enjoy and look forward to seems to have never reached your ears. the funny antics by Calcifer don't elicit a giggle from you.
"why haven't you tried to kiss me?"
is he even attracted to you? because you have boundaries and you're a woman, but
you want his hands on you for more than just protection or help. you want to know what it feels like to sit on his lap, that you're sure is more comfortable than your couch considering how meaty and large he is.
and now you're in silence, even though the tv must be at more than the recommended volume setting.
"do you want me to?" sukuna asks, still watching the movie, but you can tell his attention is entirely on you
"I wouldn't be saying anything if I didn't want you to..." you breathe, cursing yourself for bringing such an awkward situation upon the both of you. the movie seems as if its not being processed by your eyes even though you're staring at it, too scared to look at him.
the need to backtrack overcomes you and you feel like you need to overexplain your lack of manners and how he should disregard what you're saying when-
he's tilted your chin towards him
and his mouth is on yours
its beyond sensual and you can feel your thighs shift against each other, but nowhere is it an intense roughness.
he's a godsend, you think, right as he pulls away and gets up.
you're dazed and confused as he walks to your door
"I preferred when you read the book to me," he states monotonously while he shrugs his leather jacket on and opens the door.
"I'll send for a dessert for you later." he's halfway through the doorway and his back is to you, "don't finish it all if you still feel full. your cramps get worse with sugar."
"my cramps-"
he shuts the door and you're left dumbfounded in your living room
oh. he must've seen the packaging of your pad thrown in the restroom bin.
later that night, there was a large helping of warm churros that a guy delivered to your apartment building.
you img_786 thank you, they're really good
sukuna don't finish all of it
you I won't <3
and then he's gone
for a month you haven't heard from him
you shouldn't be rotting in your bed this often, but you are. you don't want to frequent out unless its with him. the few bookstores you did know before him, and went to after with him are sickeningly wrapped in the ambience of him.
going out at night reminds you that he didn't like when you were out at night, sending punctual texts about whether you were home or not
the walk home, where you got excited to even see him for a second is a disdainful reminder of him.
and you feel so ridiculed
the last time you talked, it was because you technically asked for a kiss that he ended up giving
but then walking away and going home.
it hurt your ego
you ran out of matcha tea a bit before sundown. it was a calming drink for you, something you'd been finding comfort it especially during this time.
so you left your apartment to go to the grocery store in your neighborhood. it was a weekday, so the streets weren't all that crowded, everyone was already on the way home.
it was a quick trip, you came out with a tin of matcha and a tub of ice cream, but the sun was halfway through its descent back into the night.
nothing would happen. ghouls don't lurk the moment the sun sets.
your apartment is around the corner when you hear a familiar voice.
"don't move unless you want me to eat your kagune."
why does that sound a lot like him?
there was a sort of mushy sound that followed, then a painful groan
or screech, you couldn't tell the the difference from how pained it was
"please sukuna! I-I didn't know-"
a scream followed, along with a grotesque noise
he said sukuna's name? is that-
"AHAHAHAA LOOK AT HOW FUCKED UP YOUR LUNGS ARE! BASICALLY SHREDS IN MY HANDS!"
it's undeniably his voice, but you've never heard him like this.
if you could just get a look, turn your head over the alleyway just a little
you almost vomit at the sight.
the man you had been moping over for the past few weeks had four large tentacles for a kagune, bright blood red and pinning down the man beneath him, who's lungs unmistakably were in sukuna's hands.
he was eating it like it was something easy, like a slice of ham
the other man-ghoul's intestines were spilling out onto the ground
and all you could do was stand still.
"I didn't know she was off-limits!" the ghoul cried, tears running down his half eaten face considering he was missing a piece of cheek.
"doesn't matter," sukuna retorted, digging a hand in again and taking out what looked like a liver, "what were you going to do to her huh?"
he took a bite and spoke with a full mouth in his face, "I know what lowlife creeps like you like to do to girls like her."
"and how are they supposed to stop coming if I let every creep that wanders near her live?"
and upon further inspection, you realize that the guy underneath him spoke to you this morning on the subway. he made uncomfortable conversation about your skirt and you got off the moment he started getting too close to your personal space
unbeknownst to you, you start shaking and your breath hitches
sukuna hears it
when he turns to face you, where the noise came from, his eyes are red this time, the whites blackened. he's breathing hard as he stares you down.
"go. home." is all he snarls menacingly
and no matter how hard you want to plant your feet and say no because you're mad at him, you run back home. the minute that was left in walking home became twenty seconds.
how you wound up at your apartment that fast was a wonder to you. but all you know is that so many things are making sense, but not at the same time.
that ghoul was going to come for you if it wasn't for sukuna. was sukuna the ghoul from the news? had he eaten all those men? god, you can't even remember all the times you've been cat-called or bothered on the street. how long had he been doing this?
"open the door."
you're back to reality at the sound of sukuna behind the door to your apartment
maybe if you pretend you're not-
"I can hear your heart beating, open the door."
"I don't want to!" you try not to yell, speaking as firmly as you can so as to not garner unwanted attention.
"if you open the door," he starts to speak with irritation that so tells you theres a just as irritated smile on his face, "I can explain to you."
"why do you want to talk now?" you stomp your foot on the ground, praying that the inertia stops the tears building on your waterline from falling down your cheeks
"open the door and I'll tell you y/n." he says, patience still wavering
he stares you down menacingly when you abruptly open the door, but you've got your own look to challenge, brimming with almost tears and an anger like no other at how he hurt you
"I told you to not go out at night."
"how long ago was that huh?" you retort
sukuna bites his cheek and enters your apartment, planting himself in the farthest corner of your living room to argue with you.
"you still know better." he gestures a hand to the window, outside, "I don't care if there's still a couple minutes before the sun sets. don't go outside."
"why not, you'll be there to eat anyone who lurks near me."
your nose is scrunched at him in anger and for the first time, it looks like he has nothing to say
"were you the ghoul from the news the other night?" you sniffle
sukuna looks at you with dead irritation, like he has a million things to say, but none at the same time.
"are you trying to keep me to yourself? to eat me on a rainy day, like a special treat? is that why you couldn't bare to date me? because I was just food?"
"no." he bites back, arms crossed, tongue poking through his cheek while his head moves to face the other way
"then?" you waiver, hands dropped to the sides of your body in fists.
"I'm a ghoul," his red eyes dart to you, pinning you under his gaze," you're a human."
"you can't stand that I'm a human?" you step back, hurt
it seems your words confund him to irritation again when he responds, "you just saw me eating someone's lungs."
"he was going to eat me." you reason
"you're an idiot..." he scoffs, tapping his foot impatiently on the ground
"then why are you still here?" you bite back
your retaliation seems to have set him off, because he soon starts walking towards you and pins you under his body and the countertop behind you
"I was born to eat you," he snarls close to your face, "I will find a way to break you. it's nature. every single day, all I can think about is how much I want to sink my teeth into your flesh. does that not scare you?"
"maybe that's because you never tried to take out your urges on me in other ways." you murmur defiantly
the comment makes him stand still, leaving both of your breaths as the only sound in the room.
"you don't know what you're saying." his nose twitches
"neither do you, you've never tried."
his hands are gripping the countertop so hard, you can hear a slight crumble.
but then sukuna's breathing grows ragged and it would have alarmed you, were it not for his following actions.
his arms brings your entire body towards him when he envelopes you in a nasty kiss.
this
this was sexual
his chest grumbles when you stick your tongue into his mouth and he sucks on it painfully
the bliss is so entrancing, you can't even distinguish the metallic taste.
one of his hands goes to envelop your ass and the grip he has is so strong and painful that you think he's made finger sized holes in your jeans.
the moan that leaves you is far too sinful, but he pulls you impossibly closer and grabs you by the back of your legs to pull you up. sukuna then starts walking to the only other door that doesn't lead to the restroom. to your room.
he'd just bitten your lip to the point where you're sure it'd be bruised within an hour when he threw you onto the bed and yanked your pants off. you don't know if he tore them off or genuinely took them off, but all you know is that the sight when he takes off his shirt next is magnetizing. his body is sculpted and defined everywhere, his pecs are huge, his abs scrumptiously lining his abdomen, and his v-line makes you eager to jump on top of him.
but his tattoos, they're the cherry on top. there's two ragged lines, almost as if fangs scraping down his abdomen, and they seem as if they have brothers and sisters reaching to do the same down his pecs and on the small of his neck. you know about the others on his arms, but not these.
"take off your shirt before I rip it off and you start whining about it." he growls while he fiddles with his belt to push down his pants
you follow orders, no care for if he did rip your shirt (in the moment), but eager to have him
the hard on you're greeted with is just below terrifying.
were all ghouls this gifted?
you have a feeling this was just sukuna
"still feel like you can take it." sukuna snarls as he pushes you further up the bed and positions himself between your legs.
you don't even get a chance to make a comment on what he's about to so intimately do before he tears through the fabric separating your pussy from the outside and delves in without so much as a second thought.
not even ten seconds in and your legs are shaking furiously, with no stop to it so as long as he was on top of you
his tongue is penetrating you so deeply and you don't even have time to question if that's a biological feature on ghouls. all you know is that's it's wet and oh so stimulating, so much so, you're screaming and whining
there's no words you can say, you're screaming so much from the pleasure that you instinctively start to pull away from him, but he growls and keeps you in place
oh
he's been staring at you this entire time
with those eyes
mercy be
it's just enough to drag you to the tipping point and your relief washes over you and him, while he drinks it all up ferociously.
you think he's going to stop when it feels like he's licked you clean from your mess
until he doesn't
he goes on
and he goes on for what seems like an hour
you feel you've gone insane, you can't even count how many times he's made you cum since. you've never been destroyed this way.
your voice is gone when he comes up and stares at you, caging you between his arms.
you're not going to tap out, you try to say with your eyes
and he understands, as it seems, hiking up both of your legs to your chest and beginning to run his fat tip across your folds
"remember, you asked for this." sukuna mutters meanly when he pushes in in one go
you thought it was a lie when some girls said their boyfriends were so big, that they could feel their veins rubbing against their insides
it wasn't
even his tip is being molded to by your pussy
"oh my god," you moan painfully, "I can't-i'm gonna-"
"you can," he retorts, starting to pull back and the mere drag has you keening
you think you have the same effect, considering how labored his breathing has gotten and there's nothing left for you to do besides pull him in for a kiss to sedate yourself from the intensity happening below
the single beginning of the contact illicits sukuna's start of a ruthless pace
your moans seem to make him suck on your tongue punishingly every time. and your hands can't find nothing else to do besides drag painfully down his back. you think you might have just hurt your own hands from how hard his skin is.
sukuna stops kissing you while he pummels inside of you to speak
"scream for me."
command or not, you were still doing so
"filthy little slut," he groans through each stroke, "tightest fucking pussy I've ever fucked."
"pussy's fucking mine, you're never going to touch anyone else. if you even try, I'll kill them."
he keeps going like this, on and on and all you can do is nod and agree with everything he says, because let's be honest, who were you to even glance at someone else after this?
you notice purple indents forming where his hands are on your thighs when he leans down to your face and says, "whaddya say princess, you like being mine?"
"mhm," you nod ernestly, and gather the courage to speak, even if it is hoarse, "love it so much sukuna."
"gonna blow a huge fucking load in your pussy," he murmurs to himself more than anything
"plea-please." you moan needing to be as close to him as possible, feeling an idea surface to your mind
"bite me."
if sukuna weren't so depraved and lost in you, he would have stopped. but he keeps going and instead leans closer to hear you
"bite me," you breathe, almost screaming at the end, "just enough for it not to scar."
sukuna keeps staring at you while he destroys your insides, giving no indication as to if he was going to do follow through with your wishes, until he leans down to your chest
you scream in pain and a delicious ecstasy
there's a small little pool of blood coming from your skin and his mouth when you look down. his hips start stuttering too, and it makes you think that this might be his tipping point.
you're so fucked up that it's yours too
before you know it, his pace grows so erratic that you start cumming and pulsating around him sporadically, unable to contain yourself from the pleasure.
and he starts cumming too.
sukuna lifts himself up from your chest and captures your mouth in his, making you taste a part of yourself you never thought you would. he grows weak in the kiss too, while his cum seeps out and pools into you. it lets you nibble on his tongue, an action that him sinking into your body while he gives you a last few weak thrusts.
"ow," you giggle after a moment of silence
sukuna brings his head up quickly, eyes slightly wide and in worry
"how am I gonna wear a bra over that," you laugh, observing the bleeding bite mark over your boob
sukuna looks down at it, "just don't wear one."
"boobs bring perverts."
sukuna rolls his eyes in exhaustion and dips his head into your chest, licking your wound, "you're not going anywhere without me there anyway."
#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryoumen x you#sukuna ryoumen smut#sukuna smut#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#sukuna ryomen#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut
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— 「 BODYGUARD 」
lighter lorenz x reader — 2.2k summary: you're not his responsibility (not yet), but the guilt will eat him alive if he doesn't get your drunk ass home safely. content: lighter's pov, vomit, alcohol use, sappy lighter, jealous lighter beyonce's bodyguard is so him to me i can't do this anymore fellas
You call; he answers.
Some things in life are just that simple. Lighter tries to keep it that way for you.
You don’t normally call in the middle of the night, though. Lighter doesn’t mind – honest, he doesn’t. He had been tossing and turning since he laid down, passing the time by picking open old wounds, letting the regret sting the raw edges. It takes time to realize that the ringing isn’t in his ears, that he’s flat on his back in bed, not in the ring. He almost ignores the call, but when he rolls over and sees your name flickering back at him, he dives to pick up before the last ring.
You're silent on the other line, nothing but muffled talking and rustling against the microphone. All sorts of scenarios race through his head. You're stuck somewhere - trapped in a hollow, or cornered by a rival gang. His past has caught up to him, mired you in all this ick. His stomach turns.
Adrenaline works way better than caffeine and he’s known that for a while, but he wishes he wasn’t so familiar with the helplessness that grips him. Lighter sits up, swings his legs over the side of his bed, poised to run to you.
It’s nothing so serious. When you finally get your phone up to your face and greet him with a (too loud, too sloppy) ‘hey!’ it becomes painfully obvious. You're drunk. That's what all of this is about.
Lighter needles the details out of you bit by bit, trying to glean information from your ramblings. Stranded out in Badger Springs. You met some guy out there for a date, he went to the bathroom and didn’t come back. You don’t laugh when he offers to deck the guy, and he can’t tell if you’re really torn up about this or if you just didn’t hear him.
Lighter pinches the bridge of his nose. He exhales long and low, away from the mic. He shouldn't encourage this. Can't keep bailing you out every time you get yourself in a sticky situation. But the thought of you drunkenly stumbling around the Outer Ring, bumbling your way into real trouble, has him fumbling to get his arms through his jacket.
“Stay put. I’ll be right there.”
Badger Springs. Seriously? Why’d you have to go so far out? What was so wrong with getting a drink in Blazewood?
Irritation pricks at him, has his hands feeling staticky even when he grips the handlebars of his bike. You probably went out there so no one would interrupt your date. What, were you trying to hide it? Did the girls know about this? No. No way. You would have called one of them to pick you up if that were the case. Right? You weren’t trying to hide it from him, not specifically.
He has a long ride ahead to stew about it, to knot the meaning of your actions into ugly shapes and then smooth them out, only to twist it all up again another mile down the road. This wouldn’t have happened - he kicks the stand down on his bike - if he’d manned up, if he’d asked you to watch the movie he’d rented. (New release, independently produced, apparently based off some old civilization tapes that had only been spoken about in a scant few records - some horror flick called Seen that you had been raving about. Not his thing, but your eyes lit up when you spoke about it. He figured he could just watch you during the bloody parts.)
But he didn’t ask, and now he’s here, freezing his ass off in the middle of the night, parked outside this shithole bar, two towns over. The bar is a dump. Looks like your date couldn’t even take you anywhere nice. You’re off by yourself at the end of the bar, shoulders drawn in close, crowding over your drink. At least the regulars are leaving you alone. A quick look around tells him that there’s too many people in this place for it to be a quick fight, if it came down to that.
He strolls past tables and booths, lets his hand fall heavy on your shoulder. You jump, turning sluggishly to look up at him - eyes wide and red. C’mon - don’t tell him you’ve been crying over this prick. Your expression smooths the moment that you recognize him.
“Lighter!” Your arms fling around his middle, squeeze him tightly.
The tide of adrenaline that he washed in on pulls back, drags his relief away. Anger shores up, quick and sudden. It soothes in another pulse of his heart; understanding. It's kind of flattering if he doesn't think about it too hard. You trusted him enough to come pick you up. Probably couldn't even think clearly - just knew you wanted to go home. Knew he would get you there, safe and sound. Not a bad prize for driving all the way out here; he tries to enshrine this moment in his memory. Later, trying to fall asleep in his room, he’ll feel like a sleaze for delighting in being your hero like this.
He pats the top of your head, takes advantage of the distraction to wave the bartender over, check if you’ve still got an open tab. He slips him a couple extra denny for the trouble, keeps you distracted and talking with carefully placed ‘oh, really?’s and ‘mhm’s.
"You're wasted, huh?"
“Not that bad.”
You sound confident. He steps back, lets you hop off the bar stool on your own. Lighter hooks a thumb in his pocket. He drums his fingers against his thighs, watching you sway back and forth in front of him. Your eyes are hazy and unfocused, looking in his general direction with a dopey grin on your face.
Pride feels better than anger. He latches onto that. You make it so easy to feel when you cling onto his arm, lean into him. He keeps you close, ignores the whispers he overhears about the Red Scarf. His step quickens. He’s not getting into any trouble, not when he’s here for you.
You struggle to keep up, all uncoordinated limbs, your head probably spinning. He helps you onto the back of his bike and passes you a helmet. He’d grabbed it on his way out - figured if you were as trashed as you sounded on the phone then it was better safe than sorry. He’s glad he did.
Somewhere along the ride home, you stopped babbling. He had felt your words pressed against his back more than he had heard them. He stops just before home to check on you. Can’t have you falling asleep. He doesn’t want to hear it about riding in with you all banged up on the back - he’d never let it down. He’d never let himself live it down, more accurately, but his bike starts back up before you hear that part.
Honestly, he’s almost positive you won’t remember much past when you first called him. That doesn’t stop him from treating you gently. He helps you off his bike, keeps your hand in his to guide you around stray milk crates and cacti that just seemed to leap into your path.
It’s just a little further. He’s almost got you back to your place when he hears it. That ominous groan. Your face pallid, cold sweat breaking out against your forehead.
“Gonna throw up?” He asks, big hand rubbing slow circles on your back.
You shake your head, the force of it knocking you off balance. You would have stumbled right into a cactus if he hadn’t hauled you into his side by the back of your shirt. (Like scruffing a kitten, he catches himself thinking. Cute.)
He tries to guide you to the closest trash can, but you can’t quite make it. Your legs are quaking, all the strength sapped from you while you expel that contents of your stomach into one of Old Demir’s flower pots. He gathers your hair back from your face gently, caging it all in one hand to rub your back with the other. Somewhere between gentle coos of ‘there you go’ and ‘let it all out’, he manages to make out your garbled apology. You thread it between heaves, between sobs, but he catches it all the same and shushes you for it.
“All better?” He asks when the dry heaving has stopped. You nod slowly. The tiniest whimper he’s ever heard drifts from your lips. He knows from experience that much more movement than that will hurt.
Lighter sighs. The scent of your perfume curdles with the stench of vomit. He arranges your hair back as best he can, trying to replicate the way you had done yourself up - all pretty for another man, he remembers. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, and he pulls the end of his scarf free.
“No, Lighter–”
Your hands are clumsy. He dodges your attempts to stop him easily. He clicks his tongue and swipes the vomit from your chin. “Don’t worry about it. This scarf has seen worse.”
It’s about time to get it cleaned, anyway. Add that to his growing list of chores.
You’re moving slower than before. He tucks you into his side to give you some more stability. When you pause at the steps to your place, he sweeps an arm under your knees, cradles you close to him. He had expected a protest, or an apology - something in line with the rest of your behavior this evening, but you curl closer to him.
It’s a fumble to find your keys - shifting your weight from one arm to the other until he finally finds them in your back pocket. He knows your place well enough to dodge the shoes left in the entrance way, to step around the box that sticks out into the hallway from your bedroom. He settles you into your bed, rolls you onto your side - just to be safe.
Lighter keeps watch for a few moments, making sure you’re not going to roll onto your back, pressing the back of his hand against your sweat-chilled forehead. Once he’s certain the worst has passed, he leaves to fill a glass of water for you. Your eyes are half-open when he gets back. He draws up a chair, tries to figure out how to ask if you want his help changing into something more comfortable without sounding like a creep.
You rip that idea from his head when you blindside him with a question.
“D’you think it’s my fault?”
“Course not,” Lighter answers before he can even put together what you’re asking. “Everyone has too much fun sometimes. Don’t beat yourself up over it. You’re not even gonna remember this.”
“No, I mean…” You curl tightly around your pillow. He could have sworn he heard a hitch in your voice. His heart lurches. Christ, you can’t start crying now. He can’t take it. “Why would he just leave?”
Lighter has to remind himself not to pull a face. Not what you need right now. He’s already said too much. He’s just going to wind up upsetting you more. He wants to tell you that guy is a douchebag, that none of it had been your fault. The guy just wasn’t man enough to be upfront. That was all.
“I just don’t think I’m meant for this,” you whisper. His train of thought crashes abruptly. "Like– love, and stuff.”
“You’re so much fun to be in love with,” Lighter says, and if you were sober you would clock him for just how quickly he did so, “and someday, someone’s gonna see that.”
“How do you know?”
Because my heart feels like it’s buckled into a roller coaster and I can’t figure out if I’m having fun or if I’m scared shitless. Because I’ve got eyes. Because it’s you.
He can’t say any of that. Not now, while you’re shivering and small, a little bundle of raw nerves that he rescued from some dump. Christ, you really are a kitten right now. He chucks your chin with a knuckle, his smile twisting to something bittersweet.
“C’mon. You should know not to bet against me by now.”
For the first time since he got you through the door, you smile. Barely there and flimsy, but you’re only just clinging to consciousness. Your cheek presses back against your pillow, eyes slipping shut.
“Thanks, Lighter,” you murmur.
You’re out cold within the next minute.
Lighter lingers overlong. He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be in your room while you’re passed out like this, but he can’t bring himself to rise. His shoulders hunch, expression dropping, stomach churning. Through your window, dawn is just beginning to break. The Outer Ring is bathed in a cool blue light, the horizon tinging purple at the edges.
You have a hell of a morning ahead of you. He runs a hand down his face and forces himself to stand, to get his day started properly. Another sleepless night. Maybe the next time he finds himself awake, staring at the ceiling and tormenting himself, he’ll call you first. Maybe he’ll do it before anyone else has a chance to.
Lighter locks your door on his way out and tucks the key under your mat. He should act. He should tell you.
He walks back to his place in silence, resisting the urge to grab his phone, to text you and say let me know if you need anything.
Maybe one day.
#lighter lorenz x reader#lighter x reader#zzz fluff#zzz x reader#lighter fluff#lighter lorenz fluff#zzz lighter x reader
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I WANT MORE SICK QUINN PLEASE
Okay, babes! More sick Quinn it is!
"Oh baby, you look awful."
"Good morning, to you, too," Quinn answered, his eyes half open. His voice sounded like he was talking with his nose pinched closed. You knew when he went to bed last night he was getting sick; you had heard it through the phone. So, when you got the message this morning that he needed you to come over, you made a stop at the pharmacy before his apartment. And it was a good thing, too.
He was on the sofa, legs pulled up to his chest with a blanket draped over his head and wrapped around him like a sick Halloween ghost. His colour was off; washed out and grey-like, and he was breathing out of his mouth with a rattle in his chest.
"I'm sorry," you replied softly, removing your shoes and coat at the door. The lights were off when you had got in, but you didn't question it. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I look: awful, apparently."
Hurting his feelings wasn't what you had wanted to do, but it was too late for that now. "I shouldn't have said what I did. I didn't mean for it to--"
"It's fine." Quinn's tone was sharp and flat and he wasn't looking at you. Those two little words had stung, causing you to remain at the door longer than you should have, hesitant to go any further. After a moment, realizing that your words meant nothing and that he wasn't going to apologize either, you grabbed the two bags you had brought with you and walked into the kitchen.
From across the island, you could see him sitting on the sofa, his head never moving to look over his shoulder at what you were doing. It was like you weren't even there. He was sensitive, you knew that, but this was the first time he had been so irritable.
With the lights off and all of the floor-length curtains drawn, it was near impossible to do what you needed to by the light of the television in the other room.
"May I turn the lights on?" You asked, hoping he wouldn't find a reason to get moody over a simple question.
"Sure," he said, still just a flatly as before. Quinn pulled the blanket further over his head before slumping over onto his side, like he was trying to hide from the impending light.
His apartment's lights were all on dimmers, so you made sure the kitchen one was on the lowest setting possible before flipping the switch. Light sensitivity: migraine, and the possible reason for his shitty mood. Hurrying, you unpacked everything that you had bought before shutting the light off. You remembered the range hood had a light and one that wouldn't affect him anymore than the tv he was in front of, but at least you would be able to see what you were doing. You looked back towards the sofa where Quinn was still wrapped up tight. Knowing you had to talk to him, you buried your pride, and went back to the living room.
"Migraine?" You asked him, your free hand touching his shoulder through the blanket, rubbing his back gently.
"Yeah."
"Will you look at me, please?"
After what felt like the longest moment, Quinn revealed his face from his private blanket fort. "Why don't you sit up and take these? It will help with the headache. And I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I didn't mean for it to come off like it did."
He didn't say anything at first as he forced himself back up. He would take the two pills and water from you and you would leave him alone. Back in the kitchen, you kept your back to him, your arms crossed. You had wanted to make things easy on him today, but now you wondered when he would tell you just to go. Things felt like they were spiraling faster than you could set them right. All just because of one poorly placed comment; one that you didn't mean to come off as serious.
You were so deep in your own thoughts, you hadn't heard Quinn shuffle from the living room to where you were in the kitchen. His reaching out to touch your arm had startled you and he withdrew his fingers immediately.
"Sorry," he mumbled, still draped with the blanket.
You glanced at him for only a moment, "You're fine."
"I don't feel good," Quinn sighed, stepping forward a couple steps to stand right in front of you. He leaned forward to lay his head against your shoulder. He felt hot with fever, and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him.
"I know you don't, baby."
'I'm sorry I snapped at you."
"It's okay."
Quinn leaned his entire body weight against you, like he was trying to find comfort in any way that he could. Your fingers would trail up and down his back until he decided to move.
"Everything hurts," he confessed, his eyes pleading for an answer as to why he felt so bad.
"Can you tell me what you're feeling?"
"Uh, the migraine. I can't breathe. My throat is sore. I'm coughing up green stuff. My body hurts so bad I could seriously cry. I'm cold yet I'm sweaty. I don't know what's going on with me."
His voice had never sounded so pathetic the whole time you had known him, and it hurt you to hear him struggling with so much.
"Have you taken a Covid test yet?"
"No."
"It wouldn't hurt to take one."
"Okay," he whined, pulling himself from your body as you allowed your arms to fall away from his. "I don't know if I have any left."
"I grabbed some this morning," you remembered, looking through things to find the box. "Here."
Quinn tore open the kit. He fumbled with the contents before finally swabbing his nose and applying it to the test kit. Despite having been so close to you just moments ago, realizing that he could have Covid had made him stand a ways away from you. It didn't take long for the test to read positive, making his fears worse.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his eyes falling closed with a sigh.
"Honey, it's fine. These things happen."
Quinn looked over at you, eyes heavy with guilt. "I probably just got you sick."
"I'm not worried about that," you reassured, your hand touching his cheek after closing the gap between you both. "I could use a few days off from work anyways."
"I didn't want you to get sick. I shouldn't have messaged you to come over."
"Shh, baby, baby, baby," you soothed. "I'll be okay."
He paused, "I've got to tell the team."
"Why don't you go get into bed, message Rick, and I'll deal with all of this stuff, okay?"
Quinn only nodded and slowly took off towards his bedroom. From the open door, you could hear Quinn on the phone, relaying the news of his positive test and that he would miss the next game slotted for tomorrow evening. The call didn't seem to last very long, and you'd enter the room after you were positive he was off the phone, so as not to interfere.
"You didn't have to wait out there," Quinn spoke, once you joined him. "It wasn't anything that important."
"I know, but it wasn't my business," you smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah," he remarked, "Just have to do what I did before. He wants me to re-test in four days and go from there."
Reaching forward, you smoothed his wild curls and felt his forehead again making sure you hadn't imagined the fever. However, he was still quite warm to the touch. Quinn searched your face for reassurance before asking you anything.
"Is it bad?"
"Your fever? No, I don't think so. Hopefully it breaks soon, which should make you feel a lot better. Let me go get you some more water, okay?"
"Okay," he sighed, pulling the duvet up around himself with a bit of a struggle.
You weren't gone but a minute, but when you came back, he was looking at you like you had forgotten him for hours.
"What's wrong, Quinn?" You asked him, putting a few bottles down on his nightstand.
"I just feel like shit," he said with a sigh, his congestion somehow sounding worse just before he had a sneezing fit.
"Oh, bless you, sweetheart."
"Ugh, I'm so over this." Quinn blew his nose before falling back into his pillows.
You frowned, running your hand through his hair, standing beside his side of the bed. "I'm sure you are. I'm sorry."
"Would you lay down with me, babe? Since I've already probably given it to you..." He dropped off, feeling bad about asking you to come over.
Smiling, you leaned down to kiss his forehead one more time. "Of course. Do you need anything else before, though?"
"No," he said, pushing back the blankets to make it easier on you to find him beneath the layers. "Just you."
#💌Maven's Love Notes#quinn hughes#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes one shot#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes fanfiction#hockey imagine#hockey oneshot#hockey x reader#hockey fanfiction#hockey fic
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Batfam x Neglected Mortal
Kombat reader
Lucid Dreams llll
Notes: this is part four to lucid dreams.
Warnings: child neglect and abuse.
___________________________________________
Your words ring through the room. They're fiece and they make everyone uncomfortable. You know this. And yet you've still said them.
Your word are simple. They ask a very simple question. And they have a very simple answer.
Sadly, you know your mother won't say the simple answer. Because regardless of what DNA has to say she's more damians mother than she is yours.
'So what he can say whatever he wants to me ,but I'm just supposed to stay silent?' Are your exact words.
Your words have been praticed. Praticed infront of a mirror in your room alone. By yourself. And you know your not super to say these words out loud. These words were reserved for only your ears to hear.
No, you correct yourself these words are what a good daughter and big sister aren't supposed to say.
But you aren't a good daughter or big sister are you? Atleast not in their eyes. So you don't regret your words or how they make everyone speechless.
Because you've always wanted to say them and now you have... Why should you feel regret?
Your mother's speechless and for moment you feel like you won..... Sadly the fight had just begun.
"He's only ten he doesn't mean what he says." Is her response. And yeah he is only ten. And yeah maybe you shouldn't have said what you said to a normal ten year old. But damian is no normal ten year old.
" Well he always wants everyone to treat him like he's an adult. So how is it my fault when I gave him exactly what he wanted?" You say and everyone eyes slightly widen at your words. Because damian does more often then not demand to be treated as an adult
"He's a child." She says it's a bullshit excuse you know that. She knows that. Everyone knows that Damian knows and means what he says so why can't you do the same?
'This ends today' is your final thought before you say the words that flow out of your mouth so freely. And you're right. Today something does end ,but it isn't what you hoped it would be.
"And I'm your child. Or do you despise me that much mother that you've forgotten that?" Your words are sharper then any blade and it cuts through the room with devotion and aim. And it's aimed right at your mother's heart. Bullseye.
You watch as her angry eyes turn into something else. Some other emotion that you can't quite place. And before you know it she does something so different then what you thought she would do.
She smacks you. Right on the face.
And suddenly the room is no long full of shock or disappointment. No, now it's filled with the sound of her hand making contact with your face. And echos almost cruelly.
She hit you. She really did hit you. And you can't believe it. You just can't.
Your cheeks burning and you've been hit way harder before ,but this? This is more than just a hit.
It's betrayal. And that shit hurts.
The room is silent and no one knows what to say. You heads hang low but you still see your mother's shocked face. Because not even she can believe that she hit you.
'This ends today' was what you had said in your head but now you realize the depth of your words. You had meant that the way she had been treating you these past years would end.
But now? Now you words take a whole other meaningful.
Because today is the day that your relationship with your mother ends.
That thin invisible line that had kept you two together just broke. And no words can tie that string back together.
And maybe your mother's knows that and that's why she's staying silent?
Either way it truly doesn't matter atleast not anymore. Because not even the blood that you two share will connect you to her any longer.
You heads still hung low while you begin speaking.
And your don't quite remember where you heard what your about to say from. Probably some dumb movie.
But your mouth moves faster then your mind on what your about to say.
Because surely your mind wouldn't have approved about the words that leave your mouth.
'You slap like a fucking Bitch.'
___________________________________________
Thanks for reading!!
Taglist: @dhanyasri , @kore-of-the-underworld , @i-adorehannah , @plsfckmedxddy , @phoenixgurl030 @bunbunboysworld
#batsis reader#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#damian wayne x reader#mk x dc#mortal combat reader#batfamily x batsis reader#platonic batfamily#batfamily x reader#mortal kombat#mortal kombat reader#batfam x batsis reader#neglected reader#yandere platonic Batfam#yandere platonic batfamily
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Let's appreciate how complex Agatha's relationship with Billy is
GIF credit to @isagrimorie
The genuine emotion brimming from Agatha in this moment is very interesting and I really want to break down all the layers of how Agatha is relating to Billy—because it is truly not as simple as Agatha feeling sentimental or motherly to Billy.
There are a few layers at work here (and I also want to give a shout-out to @trickofthelights for her excellent recap points):
Billy reminds Agatha (enough) of herself
There are two driving forces at the core of Agatha as a character. We know this because her characterisation has been incredibly consistent throughout the show and Schaeffer has talked about them, which is: (a) Agatha is self-serving and (b) Agatha loves powerful witchcraft.
Billy is a powerful witch who did a horrifying thing in order to survive. He's been lying to these wonderful parents. He also just tried murdering three people in a fit of rage, provoked by Agatha no less.
Would Agatha care if he was less powerful? Would Agatha care if he didn't have a dark side? If he hadn't shown to be duplicitous and dangerous and subject to his darker impulses?
If he wasn't alone and without a coven, a possible outcast even among witches because of his unusual origins and power?
I'm pretty sure the answer is no, she would not. She would have dismissed him the same way she did his "Teen" persona. Agatha doesn't care about witches, Agatha cares about powerful witches –because that's who Agatha is and what drives her.
And we also got hints of this with Agatha and Wanda (hello consistent characterisation). In Schaeffer's words:
There is respect and almost affection inherent in [Agatha's interest in enormously powerful witchcraft], as indicated by how she felt about Wanda. She was mean to Wanda, but really she was fascinated by Wanda and admired her and wanted to hang out with her.
And if this wasn't clear enough, what Agatha tells Billy shortly later about breaking the rules and being a true witch just screams projection (more on that in my next point).
I was delighted that Agatha really did bounce back from the attempted murder – but it's not because she's forgiving. Oh no, I think, Agatha was testing her theory by poking the bear (calculated move, bad at math) and she's glad she was proven right.
I mean, she not happy about the attempted murder but her curiosity wins out. You see her poking at Billy and trying to figure him out in the rest of this scene.
Agatha also hates self-righteous moralising and searches out for the darkness in people – delights in it even – because she knows people and she knows her own darkness.
Billy is different but also not so different from Agatha, as much as Billy or his mom would hate to admit.
Agatha is dealing with her childhood trauma
Yes, Agatha is projecting on Billy, but she makes a choice about it. We hear her telling him what she would have wanted someone to tell her: that they shouldn't be afraid or ashamed of who they are or what they did to survive, that they are part of a community.
Don't you dare feel guilty about your talent. ... That's what kept you alive. That's what makes you special. That's what makes you a witch.
She's trying to be the person she needed when she was a child, because she simply doesn't want someone else – particularly a younger witch – going through what she did.
She doesn't want anyone to go through what her mother put her through. And that's a choice.
Because there are a number of ways a character can deal with trauma: they can lash out and bring others down, wanting others to experience to the pain they went through, or they can realise that what happened to them shouldn't happen to anyone else in their position.
There's something beautifully self-serving but also selfless in that, because this is a way for Agatha to heal from her trauma. She can tell Billy things she may not be able to tell herself.
And it's interesting because as a self-serving villain, Agatha could just be jealous of Billy's power. But in this moment at least, Agatha's empathy and compassion – as buried as they usually are – prevail.
And yes, Agatha was fond of kid Billy
This is what Schaeffer touched on in her interview answer and it makes sense, with the insight that Agatha – like any good actor – does invest a bit of herself in every role she plays.
Agatha does have feelings (as much as they might make her vomit) and I do believe she has a soft spot when it comes to kids, given her experience with her son and her own childhood trauma. And that kids don't have the level of hypocrisy and darkness that adults do.
It makes sense that Agatha would have some level of care about the Scarlet Witch's magical kid Billy. And that is a fondness that has carried onto teenage Billy – who is powerful and a survivor and has a potential for darkness in a way she can relate to.
There are layers and they intersect and it all ties back to how Agatha is incredibly complex and yet consistent as a character.
#agatha all along#agatha harkness#billy maximoff#aaa meta#tv: agatha all along#as a general rule if you think one thing about agatha harkness#you're probably wrong#she's almost always more than just one thing#she is mean because she wants to protect herself#but she also genuinely enjoys it#she can regret killing#but also not give a fuck about it#she can be a master tactican and chess player#but also a dumbass driven by ego and hubris#(and she can be a top and a bottom)
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can u write smth for sae!!!!!!
“does it bother you that i'm your girlfriend, sae?
the older itoshi glances at his girlfriend below him. he's half-naked. his shirt already discarded moments ago and he's ready to pounce on you and the question popped. his teal colored eyes narrows down at you. a scowl in his face present at your question and you bit your lip. regretting the question. it wasn't intentional and you just blurted it out.
does it bother the itoshi sae that you are his girlfriend. the answer is no. it is that simple. no buts. no what ifs. pure and straight. no. it doesn't bother him that he's girlfriend is big despite his much leaner build than yours. he's all muscles and you're soft. he loves that for you and if it bothers him that much that you are his girlfriend, he shouldn't have asked you to be his in the first place. he got only two things in his mind. soccer and his girlfriend. the rest doesn't matter and his time is that valuable to waste it for something he doesn't want.
“good thing you're adorable.” he deadpans. a faint twitch in his lips while he reach to cup your round cheek in his palm. amused at the musings of his girlfriend below him. “no. it doesn't bother me.” he answers you and he's placing a chaste kiss to your lips and then another until his lips are moving to yours and then kissing under your chin until he got lower and lower.
“sae!” you gasped at the sensation of his hot breath fanning the inside of your thick thighs. his fingers cold making you shiver at the coldness of his fingers. “you're starting to ask stupid questions. i ought to shut you up or i get to make a use of your mouth to get it occupied. shut up and let me do my business here.” his voice cold and how could there be warmth on his voice. you ask yourself but you were literally stopped when his tongue took a long lick between your folds. your body jerking backwards and sae grips your thighs to avoid you from running away from him.
it doesn't took long for you to shut up and only call his name. chanting it over and over again while he greedily laps the juices coming out from your fat cunt. your hole weeping with need and sae is skillful with his tongue. you didn't even realize that your legs is clamping his head but sae paid it no mind. too focused and occupied to get more of that sweet juices of yours flowing from your aching hole.
it's hard to belief that one of the most valuable player of real madrid is in between your legs. licking your pussy back and forth when sae can't be bothered to smile at the cameras pointed at him. you have never seen him so satisfied not until he's in-between your legs. a man who's cravings have been satiated.
“sae, i-m cum—” your boyfriend disconnects his mouth to your sticky folds before you can cum earning a dissatisfied whine from you. “this is what you get when you ask me stupid questions.”
“so mean.” you muttered and sae doesn't missed that. “i'll show you mean.” he says and since that you never asked questions that sae seems as stupid. you learned it after being edged. crying your eyes out and begging for him to make you cum.
#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader#blue lock scenarios#blue lock smut#blue lock x reader#blue lock x chubby reader#itoshi sae#itoshi sae x reader#sae itoshi x reader#itoshi sae x you#itoshi sae x y/n#anime x reader#anime x chubby reader#x reader#x reader smut
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“ 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 “
𝐩𝐫𝗼𝗺𝐩𝐭 : 𝗺𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐚𝐧! 𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝗼𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝗼 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝗺𝐢𝐝 𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧
Content warnings : nsfw content ahead, 18+ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, dragon anatomy..., breeding kink, unsafe sex (don't be silly, wrap up your willy), yandere themes, implied intent to baby trap, mlm, bl, gay sex, anal sex, idk if this counts as dubcon on either end??? (reader says no a lot but it's out of respect for dan heng rather than not wanting to????" ~7.5k words? (don't quote me, I'm guesstimating)
“ new contact noted! caller 𝚒𝚕 𝚍𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚐 has been added to your phonebook - love, 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑡-19 “
"Please remember, this conversation isn't meant to make you feel uncomfortable in any way possible, I understand the questions we're moving onto may be..." Your fingers halted on your keyboard, mulling over your choice of words carefully. ..."uncomfortable to answer or inappropriate to ask." You finally pried your eyes away from your screen to make eye contact with the archivist. "So, please, please, feel free to decline to answer any questions, ask to take a break, or end the questions entirely."
How lovely; that you were so oblivious, Dan Heng noted in his mind. He'd been clearly eyeing you up over the table for the entire hour the two of you had discussed the history of the Vidyadhara. Yet, despite the glances you stole at him to make occasional eye contact while you took your notes, you had yet to notice anything amiss.
Not the abundance of information flowing past his lips, eager to please and more than willing to tell you anything and everything you wanted to hear from him; not the hopelessly lost look in his eyes, turquoise tracing each and every little different movement you made as you typed away; not even the clear and obvious rubbing of his thighs together; the clammy, shaky nature of his hands and each and every one of their careful movements; not even the obvious red hue that blotted his cheeks and flushed the tips of his pointy ears a bashful pink.
"Of course."
You nodded, a silent acknowledgement as you consulted a clipboard you'd pushed off to the side for the relevant questions you'd been meaning to ask. "You stated previously that the extent any Vidyadhara manifests more draconic features is reliant on their previous lives, is there any distinctions between those who outwardly display these traits?"
"Yes, no new Vidyadharas can be born, only through rebirth do any vidyadhara children come to be." He bit his lip, letting his thoughts ruminate, "Because of this, those who hold certain titles and authorities maintain this authority in all of their lives once they've regained memories of their past. While there are distinctions between Vidyadharas, it's not so much based on how we present but how we present is related to how strong our affinity is to certain rites and abilities related to our predecessors."
He tried to wipe his clammy hands off on his pants, but felt no relief at all. There was some kind of anxiety brewing inside of him and he couldn't pin what was causing it. It didn't help that you were moving onto the biology section of your questions, intimate knowledge of his body that nobody else knew. It brought him some comfort that your own cheeks were tinted a light pink out of general embarrassment.
He felt himself settle down more, but he also knew these would be the easy questions. It wasn't as though things would get more simple, to come up with complex questions, you'd need to know the basics.
Aeons, the things he would do just to steal your attention for just a few, fleeting moments.
Dan Heng's stomach dropped.
It shouldn't have showed up for at least another month, he realized. There hadn't been any sign of his heat rearing its ugly head in the slightest as of late.
He would know, he consistently tracked any and all symptoms for cases like this. He dreaded the idea of being stuck on a trailblazing mission and suddenly going into heat, but this was arguably a million times worse.
Dan Heng's idea of the most attractive man in the cosmos, sitting across from him with only a small coffee table separating them. He'd let out his horns and tails so you could sketch them down on a spare sheet of paper and you were far too close for his self-restraint's comfort. He carefully licked over his teeth in his mouth, hoping to find some kind of way to slip away from the conversation in due time. However, all hopes of this were dashed when you sheepishly made a small request of him.
"Do you think I could get a look at your fangs?"
He felt his entire body light aflame with red, hot desire tucked beneath a careful casing of embarrassment entwined with dread.
Upon noticing his apprehension, you were careful to notify him that he didn't need to do anything for you in the slightest. "I understand if that's uncomfortable, I would never want to force you to do anything that would cross any boundaries of yours. You can say-"
"Sure."
You blinked at him owlishly, snapping your jaw shut quietly. Doing your best to not miss a beat or make Dan Heng uncomfortable, you tried (and failed) to regain your composure and reinstate your more professional demeanor. Much to your chagrin, your pink cheeks and stammering gave you away. "Oh, I, uh, Alright-" you cleared your throat, gazing down at your clipboard nervously, "Whenever you're ready."
He opened his mouth slowly, allowing his fangs to be put on full display. His breath hitched in his mouth when you stood up from the couch across from him to sitting on the couch next to him. He could feel his heartbeat picking up and more heat pooling between his thighs when you started scooting in closer.
He squirmed under your watchful eyes, pitifully aroused and unbearably hot, but unable to do anything about it. You made quick work of sketching the basics of his dental layout, noting sharper fangs but also his forked tongue. You made a quiet observation, but you were hesitant to ask for further clarification.
"I- Nevermind."
Dan Heng did his best to keep his voice and breathing steady, but he couldn't help the tremble in his voice when he asked "What is it?"
You shook your head, "Your dental structure and the curvature of your fangs is similar to that of a few snake species I've had the ability to work with." You hesitated again to continue. But the sharp turquoise eyes on you made you feel an obligation to explain yourself, "I wanted to see if you, well, if you might have a Jacobson's organ but-" you cut yourself off again. You bit the inside of your cheek, squeezing out the last bit of your explanation quickly, "the location of the organ is in a bit of a compromising positions and it'd be so, so inappropriate of me to ask if I could see it-"
"I'm fine with that."
You froze, your face erupting in a flaming red as you stuttered over yourself, trying to explain the implications of looking at someone's Jacobson Organ. The little sadist in Dan Heng's heart was ecstatic to watch you get flustered, to watch you try to be as respectful as possible and keep that platonic wall firmly between the two of you.
He could feel it slowly starting to crack, continuing to shift in his seat as he waited for you to quiet down and actually get on with it. He murmured out a quiet affirmation that he truly was fine with it.
"I know what it means to look at it, I'm telling you I don't mind."
You averted eye contact for a moment before gulping down some spit and carefully setting your pen down on your clipboard, you hesitantly reached towards his face. You stopped about a foot away, inquiring meekly, "May I?"
He was quick to nod, a little too quick to be completely innocent. You didn't seem to pick up on it though, capturing his jaw between your pointer finger and thumb. He relished the skin on skin contact, drunk on the way your skin felt cool and welcoming on his own burning temperature.
You tilted his head up to get a look at the roof of his mouth, spotting the small mass behind the top front row of his teeth. You did your best to make quick observations so you didn't need to embarrass dan heng anymore than he most likely already was.
He, on the other hand, didn't want the moment to end. You were so close to him, your face just barely a foot away from his, looking at an intimate part of his anatomy. His eyes were half-lidded, sweat accumulating on his forehead rapidly. He didn't know why he didn't check out of the questionnaire the moment he knew his heat was coming on, but somewhere in the haze of his brain there was a small inkling as to why.
The longer your hand lingered on his chin, he could feel your pheromones start to waft up his nose and it was getting hard to see straight. The Jacobson's Organ itself was an organ meant to signal and interpret both signs of aggressive from others of your species, but also to signal a willingness to mate. Dan Heng's was sending electric signals pulsing through his cranium every second you peered at it from his jaw.
When your hand tried to retract from his jaw, he grabbed your wrist and pressed it onto his cheek.
It was only then you realized just how quickly his skin was rising in temperature.
He writhed on your mattress, your smell wafting addictively through the air as he did his best to peel his clothes off. He wasn't having much success, the sweat having just about fused it with his skin. You had rushed off earlier somewhere with a few words he couldn't hear over the pounding of his heart in his ears.
He only managed to yank off his large overcoat and kick off his shoes and socks when you returned to the room. He was fumbling with various buttons and zippers on his top when you burst through your bedroom door with just about as many pillows and blankets as you could find in the short time you were gone.
You were fumbling over your words apologizing for not realizing sooner, saying you assumed Vidyadhara didn't have heat periods because they reproduced asexually. Your voice was in one ear and out the other as his fingers weakly and clumsily tried to pull his shirt over his head, but he noted that your arms were loaded to the brim with plush, soft, luxury pillows and blankets.
Nesting materials.
He was growing more and more desperate to get his clothes off of him as you dropped the pillows and blankets on the bed, apologizing over and over with a red face. He gave a needy huff when his fingers dropped the clasp of his shirt again. He couldn't get it off of him and he could feel frustrated tears settling in.
That was, until you started helping him out of his clothes.
You noticed his struggles and tentatively asked him if he needed help in this honey sweet voice, always stopping between each and every article of clothing you tenderly stripped off of him to make sure he was sure he was okay with you helping him out.
Soon enough he was left in nothing but his boxers as you excused yourself to start building up his nest for his comfort. You promised him you'd contact Caelus or someone else from the express to pick him up or at the very least explain the situation. He didn't answer, just about writhing in the middle of the bed, mind going fuzzy with the overwhelming feeling of you surrounding him.
He felt comfortable as he watched the plush walls being built around him, clutching on your blanket in particular as he could feel his hips begin rutting pathetically against the mattress. He buried his face in the soft fabric to try and hide his shame, all while huffing in your scent like cocaine.
Too many sensations, to many sounds, to many smells, his body concluded; throwing him into a haze of seeking blind release on your blanket. He hadn't even noticed you calling for his attention from next to your nightstand, setting down a pager and some water.
"-an Heng! Dan Heng!"
He finally snapped his eyes up to gaze at you, a little bit of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth and his eyes glassy.
You gulped down some saliva to wet your dry throat before continuing, "I'm leaving, but there's a pager on the nightstand if you need anything."
There was some kind of deep noise that escaped from his throat, at the thought of you leaving. "Where are you going?"
You raised a hand, trying your best to dissuade his worries. "I'm at fault for this mess, I can just crash in Arlan's room or find a temporary one. I can't possibly ask you to move during your heat period."
He dragged himself closer to the edge of the bed, closer to you, as he tried his best to stop his hips from rutting against the wall of pillows and blankets you hastily built up for him. "You can st-stay." There was rumbling in his throat, one you realized was purring. He was trying to entice you into bed with him.
Your face pulsed a deep crimson as you vehemently shook your head, "You aren't in your right mind, I would never even think of taking advan-"
He whined, grabbing blindly for your arms as his hips started to move against the wall of pillows. "Need- Need something, someone, need you-" he cut himself off with a curse as he felt a growing knot of arousal build up more in his stomach.
At this point he was pulling on your arms, trying to pull you in closer, down into the nest. His torso lunging forward to press his face into the skin of your neck, he was just about whimpering directly into your ear while humping the bed.
"D-Dan Heng, you're in heat, I couldn't do something like that to you-" you stammered, trying to draw away from him. His insistent groveling was starting to get to you.
He tried pulling you down into the nest again, hands reaching up to your shoulders to push off the pristine white coat you usually wore. His little whimpers were growing desperate, practically begging for you to take care of him.
Your hands gripped his wrists, sending another spark of arousal up his spine, he couldn't even hear your next words, "This isn't right, you probably wouldn't be talking to me like this if you weren't in heat."
His thighs shook under him, looking at you with half-lidded eyes as you put your coat back on your shoulders so you could leave. "Wait-Wait, please don't go- ah~"
"If you need anything, I left a pager on the nightstand. When your heat is over we can talk-"
He whined his protests, but you adamantly let go of his wrists and he could feel himself getting more and more desperate to keep you in his nest as your delicious scent wafted away from him. "I think of you so, so muchhhsh, it's not just the heat." He mewled when he brought your blanket to his nose.
He let out an unintentional purr when you stopped just short distance away from your door. You turned to look at him. He pushed his hips against the fabric of the blanket and the sheets, already soaking both his boxers and your precious blanket with the scent of sex. "Y-You never talk to me unless you need to know something- agh~" his hips stuttered against the mattress again. "Have you ever considered my feelings?" He let out another moan when he ground particularly hard into the bed.
"What are you talking about?"
He keened when he felt your attention on him again, really playing up the pathetic act he was putting on. "Twice a year- hah~" he practically melted against your bed when he found the right angle to move his hips at, picking up the pace quickly. "-you're all I can think about. Alone in my room while the others are gone and I'm making a mess of myself."
He let out another drawn out whimper when you stepped closer to the bed, "Y-You never even spared me more than a glance- hngh~" he grunted when your blanket slid against the mess he was making of your bed, "I wanted you soooo ba-had~"
He crawled over to the edge of his nest to where you were standing, doing his best to reach out to you and make some kind of contact with your skin. "I want you- mmmnnhg~ right now, I n-need you here-" he gave a whine when you interlaced your fingers with him, his hips growing faster against the wall of the nest. "I want y-your, ouhh~, want your heellpppp-"
You considered your options carefully. Dan Heng certainly wasn't bad looking, in fact, you could feel yourself getting a less than respectable boner at the sight of him basically bashing his hips against your blanket. You had his prior consent, knowledge of an... intimate attraction at the very least. Last but not least, you felt partially responsible for the state he was in, despite his heat cycle having nothing to do with you.
You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek as Dan Heng put the hand intertwined with his own to his nose, sucking in the smell of your skin harshly. He was basically having the time of his life, eyes squeezed shut and his grunts and groans getting pitchier and pitchier with each passing moment.
You supposed you had to take responsibility for his little mess.
You let out a little groan of pain into his vent when he tugged harshly at your hair. He was just about jerking you further into his nether regions with one hand while he looped his fangs around one of his fingers on the other. His tail squeezed your upper bicep. You were laying on your stomach, going down on him with his legs thrown over you shoulders.
His little whimpers and whines weren't much to go off when it came to seeing what he liked most. Instead, you would go off the little things like the twitch of his thighs around your head or the way his hand tightened in your hair. There were actually a few things you figured out would get him to jerk his hips up into your mouth. Specifically, he really liked it when you managed to get your tongue inside his cloaca and tease the tips of his cocks.
You pulled your mouth off of his hips, relishing in his small protest. He keened, his hips chasing after your slick stained lips. You ignored his nonverbal begging for more, instead snuggly wrapping your biceps around his hips and squaring them back down on the pillow he was propped up on. You hadn't exactly done anything like this before, but that definitely didn't mean you weren't willing to learn.
Instead of going back in to continue teasing his slit, you focused your attention on what was slowly everting out of it. Your thumb traced over the slit of the dick that had just barely begun poking its head out his vent. You earned a muffled groan from Dan Heng, who was doing his best to muffle his noises on his finger. For his own dignity, you let him.
You tentatively licked over the tip just to gauge his sensitivity and were kindly rewarded with more of his cock sliding out and the second one just barely sliding emerging as well. The precum oozing off the tips tasted just like his slick, mouth numbingly sweet. It wasn't any kind of flavored sweet, actually it was almost like drinking a mouthful of sugar water; something you mentally took note of.
His fingers were just about digging into your scalp now, pushing your face down closer to him. He was trying to wiggle his hips up closer to your mouth, but your arms kept him firmly pressed down as you continued to mercilessly tease him. He sucked in a sharp breath when you finally took one in your mouth, going down slowly until your nose was flush with his pubic bone. You traced over the underside with an experimental flick of the tongue.
In turn, his thighs twitched to clamp your head in place, delivering a delicious pressure that kept you locked in between his legs. You felt the heel of his foot push into your back right between your shoulder blades. He tugged on your hair again, letting out a pathetic hiccup when you maneuvered your hand underneath his little leg lock to tease the opening of his vent.
He shivered deliciously when you groaned against him again, finally prying his thighs away from the sides of your head. You traced the outline of his cloaca slowly, sensually; causing his other hand to join in on tugging your head closer to his dripping sex. You rose off of his erection with plenty of spit and precum dangling from your lips, glinting in the low light.
His fingers carded through your hair as you finally got up from between his legs, crawling on top of him and pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead. Your breath was hot on his face and he could feel the sweat dripping on his brow as he locked his legs around your waist to pull you down on top of him.
One of your hands traced little patterns up the outside of his thigh and up to his little hip dips. You kept your voice low, trying not to overwhelm him since he was already trying to force his hips up higher to grind on your own erection. "As much as I'd love to keep going like we were, I want to hear what you want to do."
He seemed to lack the ability to answer, coherent thoughts transitioning to jumbled syllables and begging the moment they moved past his lips. He finally managed to raise his hips high enough to rut on the inside of your thigh, tears slowly welling up in his eyes. He was getting overwhelmed, your scent and your touch and the things you were making him feel drowned him in an ocean of white hot flames, boiling him alive with all the sensations sending a pleasant buzz through all of his nerves.
"Hm? Dan heng?" You cooed into his ear, he took in a sharp inhale, letting out a breathy huff in response. He kept rutting up against the inside of your thigh, his dicks standing at full attention and weeping precum all over your skin. Once again, he couldn't respond, letting out little huffs and groans into your neck while he tried to chase the feeling of completion.
You used the hand that was gently caressing his thigh to push his hips back down towards the bed. Chastising him gently for not answering you, "C'mon, I can't help you if you don't tell me how I can help, sweetheart."
He could feel the hot wet trails of tears running down his face as he started crying. He sniffled pathetically as his hips struggled against the strength of your arm keeping them pinned down by the waist. His hands moved from your hair to your shoulders, trying to use them to get more leverage to try and fight against your grip. "I- I-"
"Yes?" You purred, placing a kiss to the side of his neck. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, eyelids fluttering shut as he tried to put more effort towards thinking. "What do you want from me, Heng?"
He whimpered at the mention of his name, "I don't know- I don't know-" he hiccupped, his fingernails leaving crescent marks in your shoulders, "I want to feel good, I-" a sniffle, "-touch me, please touch me agaainn..."
"Good," your murmured against his skin, "Just a little bit more, you're being so good for me," you placed a few more kisses up his neck until you met his jawline, "Where do you want me to touch you? How do you want me to touch you?"
His tail squeezed around your thigh, shaking as tried to ground himself enough to answer. He pressed his foot further into your back to bring your body down closer. He whimpered, "-Inside" his fingers trailed up to your jawline, "I- I want it inside." He held your face in his hands to make eye contact with him.
In all his teary eyed glory, you still managed to find the willpower to hold back and tease him just a little more, "What do you want inside?" He whined, roughly bringing your forehead to touch his. You pressed an innocent peck to his lips, "Last question, Heng, What do you want inside?"
He keened, chasing after your lips, almost yelling against your mouth, "YOU! I want YOU insiiihiidddeee~"
You curse against his lips, "...ah fuck," you suck a sharp breath between your teeth. You dot kisses on his face, holding him in a soft missionary. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?" You were scared to hurt him, trying to help him relax a little bit.
Dan Heng, on the other hand, was barely cognizant, eyes squeezed shut as little tears poured down the sides of his face. Was it from the pain? No, rather it was from relief.
"good, good, so good-" he babbled, arms looped around your neck as he tried to push himself backwards and further up on the pillow propped under his pelvis.
You gently stroked his hair away from his face, thumbing away the tears on his cheek. You gently pushed another couple of inches into him, causing him to let out a shaky moan. You kissed him on his sweat-caked forehead, shushing him as he cried pathetically underneath you. "You're doing so good, such a good boy, almost there, promise."
"Ahnnn~" he squirmed under the praise, drool leaking from the corner of his mouth, "deeper, please," he sniffled, "-please, deeper,"
You nodded, starting to push just a little bit in further, stopping when his tail smacked unceremoniously against your back. His back arched up against the bed in an open mouthed scream, just about seeing stars when you brushed past his prostate. He kept drooling, hiccupping and whining for you to keep going.
You finally bottomed out, ultimately noticing just the smallest bump protruding on his mid-section. His hands were scratching lines down your back, his mouth pressed shut tight and his jaw tense. Tears continued to stream down the side of his face as muffled murmurs and whimpers bounced around the inside of his taut lips.
You latched onto the side of his neck, placing a delicate kiss before starting to suck a light hickey into his pale, pale skin. He shuddered under the simple touch, a broken, humiliating purr resonating from his throat.
He sniffled again, sobbing, "P-Please, just move, I can't wait- ouhhh~"
You unlatched from his neck, kissing the just barely red skin gently before drawing your hips away from his pelvis. He let out a long drawn out moan, his voice cracking in the middle of it. You pulled until your length was about halfway out, snapping your hips forward as gently as you could.
He let out a yelp, thighs twitching and clamping down on both sides of your waist. After a small pause, you repeated the same thing, earning another broken squeak. You set the pace slower just so you knew Dan Heng wouldn't be too overwhelmed. He laid there, largely limp for a short period of time, voice cracking and tears streaming down the sides of his face.
Eventually, when he seemed to get used to the feeling, his broken moans turned into purrs and huffy groans. His hips started to rock back against yours, hands balling up and relaxing into fists behind your neck. He reached for your face, a little bit less out of it and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss.
The first thing you were met with was his teeth clacking against yours before his long forked tongue ran over your bottom lip. You teasingly nipped at his lip, earning a purr as he parted his tips more the let you take control of the kiss.
It was around then that you got a more devious idea. You played nice to begin with, feeling around the inside of his mouth with your tongue, but eventually, when his whines started to get louder, you decided it'd be the right time to push him over the edge. Cheekily, you smiled into the kiss before pressing your tongue right on top of Dan Heng's Jacobson's organ.
You only had a split second to register that you'd actually done it before Dan Heng all but screamed into your mouth and the two of you were graced with white painting both of your chests.
You rocked your hips forward slowly working him through the intensity of it. You finally bottomed out again and stilled, pulling away from his lips.
To your surprise, however, Dan Heng's fingers moved from the back of your neck to tangling themselves in your hair. He was panting, teary eyes glassy and glazed as he pushed his chest closer to yours.
His lips parted, ghosting over your own lips as he begged, "Do that again, Ouh~ Please, please do that again, mhhhh~" His hips continued to rock back against yours but they weren't getting all that far; he was basically just grinding himself on the based of your cock.
You hesitated for a moment before tentatively locking lips with him again. At his insistence, you started to move again, but shallowly and slowly. He grunted into the kiss, tugging on your hair to show his disapproval. You huffed into the kiss before almost completely pulling out before shoving your hips forward harshly. He made a choked noise, just about having the wind knocked out of him at the sudden change.
You pulled away from the kiss, feeling a little mean as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. "Wow, I didn't know you could be so greedy, Heng. You already came once and you're begging me to go harder?"
"Please- hah~ please, I feel like I'm going crazy-"
You kissed the shell of his pointed ear, drinking in the little noise you got in response before humming and catching his lips again. Maintaining about the same pace as before, you started knocking the air of him continuously with each thrust. You started toying with the forked tongue in his mouth and slyly sliding your tongue over his fangs.
He let out a drawn out moan into the kiss, pushing his face against yours harder. He tried coaxing you further into his mouth, just about begging you to inject the bundle of nerves with just about the highest concentration of your pheromones he could get.
Still, you played hard to get, wrapping your tongue in his. In your focus on him, you didn't notice your pace was picking up as you got closer to your own orgasm. Eventually, when he gave a particularly harsh tug to your hair did you finally relent.
However, while you gave into tonguing over the roof on his mouth, you also wrapped a large hand around the two painfully red cocks bouncing against both of your stomachs. He squealed into your mouth, thighs trying to squeeze shut and protect himself from the onslaught of sensations. When he finally forgot his requests for you to put your tongue on the little bump on the roof of his mouth, did you let him have his way.
His eyes snapped open, pupils rolling up into his skull as you continued to stroke him and shove your tongue into the top of his mouth. He fell limp in your arms, fingers only staying attached to your hair because they'd just about knotted themselves in your locks.
You felt the pit in your own stomach starting to get tighter, eliciting a set of groans into Dan Heng. You sped up your pace, knocking Dan Heng out of his little stupor as his hands tugged about as hard on your hair as they could without pulling out any chunks. He was back to crying while you were just about fucking him open and drinking in the noises he was screaming out into your own mouth.
Finally, you let out a finally, deep, guttural moan as you bottomed out and finally spilled your seed inside of him. His back arched and his mouth fell open in a lewd moan, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he spurted all over your stomachs again.
"yesyesyesyesyesyes-umffff~"
You panted as you shoved his face into the pillow by the neck with one hand while the other carved bruises into his hips in the shape of your fingers. It'd been a couple hours later and Dan Heng was absolutely insatiable.
You supposed you should've expected it, seeing as he's in heat and all, but you didn't expect him to have nearly enough energy to keep going for the rest of the afternoon and into the early hours of the morning. Well, it was probably easier for him to keep going than you. After all, you were the one that was actually putting in the majority of effort to keep pile driving him into the sheets.
You grunted as you pressed your chest onto his back, watching the way his tail rattled in the air in contentment. Your hips were consistently slapping against his ass, his hands clutching at the pillow you'd shoved his face into mere seconds earlier.
His happy, fucked out noises were difficult to hear from the plush, comfortable pillows, but more audible now that you were closer to his face. You pressed a handful of kisses down his spine before reaching your hand around to his front. Originally, you were going to try and stroke him through another orgasm, but instead, the hand that was formerly on his neck ghosted over the bump you were creating in his stomach. He let out a noise into the pillow that was as delectable as sin. His entire body spasming when you applied pressure onto the same point.
After a couple of hours in, his cum had thinned to the point he was just shooting blanks at this point. His cock was an angry, crimson red from the amount of times it'd actually gotten off. Just like now, his entire body tensed, but nothing actually came out.
So instead, you pressed harder on the bulge, watching in delight how his body fell limp and he stopped rocking back to meet your rough, quick thrusts forward.
It was cute for the first couple of minutes, watching him weakly moan into the pillow and claw at the sheets underneath him to try and ground himself from the heaven you were currently sending him to. But as of now, your own hips were starting to get tired. Your thighs were burning after about three hours of copulation, but you also knew the moment you stopped, Dan Heng would be alert again, demanding your attention again. Sigh, so needy.
Taking matters into your own hands, quite literally actually, you traced up his stomach before curving it around to the side and resting it on his hips. You starting tugging his hips back onto your dick, listening to the sweet mewls he let out as he turned to press only one side of his face into the pillow.
Still not quite satisfied with the amount of friction generated from using his hips as handholds, you turned your attention to the rather large solution position just a few inches away on his spine.
A devious grin broke out on your face before you ghosting your hands over the base of it, taking special satisfaction from the way his eyes widened. The next moment, your hand was wrapped around his tail and his eyes were rolling back up into his skull, low moans turning into high pitched squeals as the end of his tail rather weakly whacked against your shoulder.
Once again, you were just so close to getting to your own peak, you meanly wrapped your other hand just above the other one, sending him jolting forward towards the headboard. He finally picked his front half up from the bed sheet and clutched the top of the headboard, resting his head on it as his nails dug into the wood. You were a little concerned when you heard it start to splinter, but you dismissed it for when your thoughts were cloudy with making sure Dan Heng definitely wouldn't be able to think about anyone else during any of his following heats.
Finally, the moment came when the pooling heat in your stomach exploded and unleashed another load inside of him, prompting him to scream as just the tiniest few drops of crystalline cum shot from his angry red tip.
Once again, when you stilled to try and catch your breath to see if Dan Heng was finally satisfied, the way he looked back at you, despite the drool dripping down his chin and dried tear tracks on his cheeks, was pleading with you to keep going. He punctuated it with pushing his hips back against your softening cock again.
Horny little bastard.
During the last few rounds, Dan Heng had started becoming rather verbal. Not to be confused with vocal, he was vocal since foreplay started. No, he started talking a lot the more and more energy you were losing.
At this point, you were much too worn out to wonder why. A few flitting thoughts trailed through your head, but were quickly knocked out of you the more you snapped your hips forward and the sweet sound of Dan Heng's hoarse cries replaced them.
"Sooo fullllll~" he mewled, riding slowly. The height he was rising was getting less and less as his pace was getting slower. His voice was slowly starting to slur the longer he was on top. He held an inflated stomach with one hand, using the other shaky arm to support himself on your chest.
Soon enough though, his arm gave out on him and let himself rest his head on your chest, hips still insisting on moving, though he was barely rising. "Ghonna get pregnaannnttt~" he purred into your ear. You lazily hummed an affirmation in his ear. Eyes half-lidded in exhaustion as you watched him use the last bit of energy he had to try and reach one more orgasm.
"Ghonna have your babyyy~" he cooed, his hips finally resting on your pelvis. He moved his pelvis in little circles, what little energy he had left diminishing exponentially the longer he went on. He whined out your name when your eyes shut.
"I'm listening, Dan Heng," you affirmed, sleeping hand coming to rest on the small of his back while the other cupped his cheek.
"You have to stay with me if I have your baby~" he complained, "you can't ever leave me."
You raised an eyebrow at his words, but chalked it up to a horny dragon that was giving into his mating instincts. "Yes, Heng. I won't leave you or the baby."
There was a weak purr that emitted from his throat, his hips finally stilling flush with your own. "Would jyou make me yohur wifeee..."
You hummed into his skin, "Mhm..." you rubbed a thumb across his cheek, letting him settle into his cute little domestic dream. "My pretty wife and our baby."
You could feel a smile stretch across his face against the skin on your chest. You absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair. His hands pressed up against your abdomen, resting there as you felt him burrow his nose right in between your pectorals. "Prhomishe?"
You twirled a piece of his hair around your finger, mumbling out a half-awake, "Promise."
With that, you could feel his breathing relax and small snores emit from his mouth. Without moving all that much, your own arm lazily grabbed at a blanket, throwing it over the both of you before letting yourself also drift off into the land of dreams.
Before that though, there really was only one thing left on your mind...
How exactly were you supposed to survive the rest of his heat if this was going to be your everyday?
there a small note on the side of the phone booth, read it?
" i fear this is the filthiest thing I've ever written and I will be doing it again soon. "
THIS IS A REPOSTED WORK FROM MY ORIGINAL ACCOUNT BEFORE IT CRAPPED AND DIED ON ME
I USED TO BE FOUND AT @steadybear
I FEAR YOU WILL HAVE TO DEAL WITH SEEING @bigtedbear INSTEAD FROM NOW ON
Part 2 here: " results: inconclusive "
#honkai star rail#hsr#dan heng#dan heng x you#dan heng x reader#dan heng x male reader#hsr x male reader#sub hsr#honkai star rail smut#sub honkai star rail#yandere#tw yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x male reader#yandere honkai star rail#yandere hsr x reader#yandere hsr#yandere hsr x male reader#imbibitor lunae#honkai sr x male reader#honkai sr x reader#honkai sr#hsr fanfic#honkai star rail fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#x reader#x male reader#male reader#Σ>―𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐭 𝟏𝟗 ✆→
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₊˚⊹。by expensive tiles and elite gym pools | gojo satoru
wc: 935
summary: you visit gojo during one of his training sessions for his upcoming swim meet.
contains: written with f!reader in mind but no pronouns stated, only gendered term is ‘boyfriend’ pertaining to gojo, swimmer!satoru, non-curse au
a/n: wrote this as a lil surprise blurb bday gift for @kedsandtubesocks (but it got longer than expected... oops) i know how much you love your sports aus erika!! also inspired by some swim!satoru thoughts i had a few days ago!
You hear a splash! the moment you enter the doors of the gym pool.
The lanes are empty save for one, vast crystal blue shimmering as it reflects the light passing through the glass ceiling. You don't know much about pool construction, but the tiles here look clean, with each edge perfectly cut to fit seamlessly into the other; the markings of luxury, expensive but simple enough not to distract—
—which is what you shouldn't be doing walking into this exclusive gym pool reserved only for the best of the best, the elite. Top tier professionals.
Ones like your gold-winning pro-swimmer boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.
He's approaching the end of his lap when you settle into a squat in front of the lane he’s on, towel hanging off your shoulders as you cross your arms over your knees, wiggling your toes as you wait. The moment he breaks through the surface, you can't hide the smile on your face.
You haven’t seen him in days.
Everything about him feels like he was made for this—how the ripples make way to accommodate his breathing, the dips and curves of muscle on his shoulders, flexing; how his fingers glide his goggles atop his head without resistance, smoothly. Even with his hair held back by the elastic, the few wet clumps that fall out still frame his face so perfectly.
It's unbelievable how your boyfriend can look so much like the water he swims in—brilliant and white like glimmers of reflected light, and clean blue, striking, always glistening the moment your eyes catch his.
Sometimes, looking at him feels a lot like drowning.
"How did I do?" he smirks, squinting into what would have been a suave wink, if not for a drop of water causing an involuntary eye-twitch.
He already knows the answer, but you indulge him anyway, "Good, as always."
"Just good?" he pouts.
There's a droplet of water hanging by his lips, desperately clinging as it trembles while he breathes. You know he knows you're looking by the way he runs his tongue over it, taunting.
You narrow your gaze and shrug, teasing, "Maybe you missed something."
He swims closer to the ledge you're squatting by, palms pressing on tile to hoist himself up. You try not to fixate on the way his triceps flex as they hold him up, but he lives for this kind of attention from you—he’d do anything to keep you looking at him the way you do.
Half of his left leg remains submerged when he settles himself on the edge of the pool, the other one bent as he tilts his head in mock wonder, “Did I?”
It's your turn to pout now as he pretends not to know what you’re after, and you're about to say something on it until—
"S'toru!"
—you scream, pulled off-balance with your heart nearly dropping to your stomach at the fear of being dragged into the water. Except you aren't, because with a simple tug at the towel around your neck, he's managed to tip you over to fall into his lap, steadying you against his very wet and very broad chest instead.
You smack his shoulders, mouth agape and eyes wide as you push back to look at him. He looks pleased with himself, almost laughing even as his arms settle on your hips, grabbing the flesh and squeezing.
"Mean," you scrunch your nose, and he chuckles.
"Excuse me," he holds you closer, "who hurt my feelings first?"
You roll your eyes fondly, sliding your hands to clasp at the back of his neck, "Okay, big baby."
"Do you want your kiss or not?"
You glare at him, lips pursed tight, "As if you don't—"
So he does—kiss you, lips soft and a little damp. You can taste the chlorine from the hours he's already spent here prior to you coming, but it's comforting, a taste entirely too familiar that you sometimes find yourself looking for it during the long stretches he’s on break.
He kisses you because you're right, something was missing, and it's always this same thing.
You smile against his lips before breaking away, heart gleaming like pool water. The moment is tender, soft, touched by the magic of being together amidst expensive tiles and elite gym pools.
But you should have known better than to trust your pro-swimmer boyfriend, Gojo Satoru—full-time athlete, and part-time the most insufferable person you’ve ever met.
Because with the way his arm has been wrapping itself inch-by-inch around your waist, he's managed to shift his body back to face the pool, only to dump the both of you back in the water, together.
"Satoru!"
He laughs, voice carrying throughout the gym. You grumble about still having your slippers on and he dives under to get it off you, throwing it to the side when he emerges.
"Race me!" he ducks to the other lane, sliding his goggles back on before shooting you a thumbs up.
And you’d think this silly of him, really, because this is your back-to-back-to-back gold-winning pro-swimmer boyfriend asking you, a survival swimmer at best, to race him—but you can tell this is his cover for you.
You’d get in trouble if anyone caught you here in the first place. His schedule's been tight lately, locked down with the need to focus for his upcoming swim meet. Being focused meant no distractions, and you being the worst of them all meant less time spent with you, too.
Still, he'd insisted that you come today, so.
You can't technically be a distraction if you're going to 'train' with him anyway, right?
comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk#satoru#shotorus.writes#gojo x you#gojo x yn#gojo x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x yn#jjk x y/n#rated#swim!satoru
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Skz Calling you clingy
Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, I.N.
Part 1
Authors note: This was supposed to be out on Tuesday but then I got into K-drama and kinda forgot about. I honestly hate how this turned out but whatever. I tagged everyone who asked for part 2, if you want to be untagged lmk, also if you want to be added to my tag list for this series lmk
Warning: None I think
Taglist: @heaveniseverywhere @straykidslvr @staybychoice @luckymilkshakerebel
Not proof read
Word count: 939
Days passed since your argument and you hadn't gone back to the apartment. You'd been crashing at a friend's place, needing time and space to cool down. Lee Know, on the other hand, started to realize the gravity of his mistake and how much he had messed up.
He hadn’t expected you to just up and leave, leaving him alone in the apartment. He also hadn't considered the fact that you might not come back anytime soon. His initial indifference was gradually replaced by a feeling of regret. He had stood you up, ignored your texts, and then called you clingy. The more he thought about it, the more it dawned on him how much he had screwed up.
Each day that passed, the more he longed to see you, to apologize and make it up to you somehow. And so, after a few days of stewing in his thoughts, he decided to make the first move. He sent you a text.
The text read: 'Can we talk? I messed up and I'm sorry. Please come back.'
You stared at the screen of your phone contemplating whether to respond or not. Your anger was still fresh, but the pang in your heart wouldn’t go away. After debating for a while you decided to type a simple reply.
'Alright, we can talk.'
Your short response surprised Lee Know. He hadn't expected you to agree to meet so easily but his heart slightly leaped with hope. Immediately he texted back.
'Can you come back home? I want to apologize in person.'
‘Ok.’
Lee Know’s anxiety spiked at your simple 'Ok’. Did that mean you'd come back? He waited anxiously for your arrival, pacing around the apartment. He hadn't seen you in days and it was eating him up inside.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the sound of the apartment door opening grabbed his attention and he turned to see you walk in. Your expression was neutral and your eyes were slightly puffy. You avoided eye contact with him, closing the door behind you. A tense silence hung in the air as neither of you knew how to start the conversation. But after a few moments, Lee Know spoke up, his voice laced with remorse, "I'm sorry," he took a few steps forward, still maintaining a small distance between you two. With an apologetic look, he continued, "I shouldn't have stood you up and called you clingy a brat. God, I don’t even know why I said that. I should've been there for our anniversary and I'm sorry I ruined it. I hadn’t realized I hurt you so much."
You remained silent for a while, finally meeting his gaze. He looked genuinely apologetic, his eyes showing genuine remorse. He wanted to come closer and hug you, but he was hesitant, not sure how you would react. He knew he had caused the damage and now he didn't know how to fix it. You let out a shaky exhale, “You really hurt me min…”
Lee Know looked at you, his face a mix of guilt and sadness. As you spoke, his heart felt heavy.
"I know I hurt you, I made a mistake and I'm so sorry.”
"I promise I'll make it up to you," he said softly. That day was a big day for us, and because of my selfishness, I ruined it. I was thoughtless, and I'm sorry.”
He looked at you, his eyes expressing his remorse. He took another step towards you. "I'm sorry. Do you," he hesitated for a moment, "Do you want to break up?"
Lee Know asked nervously, dreading the answer he might get, but he needed to ask, he knew what he did and said was wrong and unforgivable.
“What? No,” you say almost instantly, looking up at him, surprised he would even think that you know the argument was pretty bad and there were words that shouldn’t have been said but it was nothing that couldn't be talked out, and it was not bad enough to throw away a 2-year relationship, though if he hadn’t apologized it would have definitely been over.
He hesitantly closed the distance between you, carefully bringing his arms around you in a gentle embrace. He knew this wasn't enough to win you over but he wanted to feel your presence closer.
"I'm sorry," he repeated as he hugged you, feeling the weight of his mistake.
And he truly meant it. He wanted to fix this, to make things right. He knew it wouldn't be easy but he was ready to try. The thought of losing you had scared him and he realized that he needed to put more effort into being a better boyfriend.
“I know…” you whisper
Lee Know held onto you, not wanting to let go. He knew sorry wasn't enough, he knew he needed to prove it through his actions.
"I love you," he said softly. "Please don't leave me."
“I'm not… I won't…” You say softly, sniffling and trying to wipe your eyes
Your words provided him with some relief, a weight lifted off his shoulders.
"Thank you,” he said softly, letting go to examine your expression. He reached up gently, wiping away the last traces of tears from your cheeks. "I promise I won't mess up like that again.”
"I'll do better," he added. "I'll prioritize you more and make sure we communicate better."
He kept his arms around you, still afraid to let go. He wanted to savor this moment of having you close after days of missing it so badly. You two stay like that for a while before you playfully pinch his side, “You owe me dinner.”
#🍎🥝’s post#skz x reader#stray kids imagine#lee know x reader#lee know x you#lee know angst#Lee know hurt/comfort#minho x reader#minho x you#minho angst#lee minho#stray kids x reader#lee know fluff#minho fluff#stray kids x you#skz x you
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gonna just drop a bulletpoint story out there because this aint a lot to go off of but you're soooo right, speak your truth i love you. you're putting two of my favorite things together, ratio and kitsune / foxes
♡ kitsune! ratio who got eight tails, some joke its one tail for each subject that he's graduated college with a master's degree for
♡ he's really is far more playful than people give him credit for, although in his own deadpan kind of way
♡ like, no, he doesn't outright make jokes, but he'll say stuff that goes over people's heads and then loudly exclaim " why do i even bother ?! " with a feigned annoyance, but it's okay because its ratio and it's cute
♡ he really takes the ' sly fox ' thing to heart. i mean, he already works in the shadows, sly is just a part of who he is
♡ but he is still a good person !! people may often assume that he's not because of how he acts and they attribute that to being a kitsune, but he really does care about humans
♡ especially one stupid little human who likes to visit the shrine he lives at a lot
♡ yeah, you caught his attention, but he would much rather die than admit that to you
♡ he doesn't say anything when you offer him the good tuna while he's in his fox form, even though it irks him a little bit because he's a fox, you moron, not a wild cat
♡ shouldn't you be trying to run away from him anyways ? why are you so brazen about walking up to a fox ? don't you know that they're wild animals and they can hurt you if they wanted to ?
♡ you're so lucky that he doesn't want to, otherwise it would be a problem on your side
♡ he eats the tuna every time you bring it for an offering, enjoying it even though he bites back a snarky comment every single time
♡ he's smart enough not to bite the hand that feeds him. his shrine is so far out into the woods that you're really the only one who comes to visit him from time to time, something that he was silently grateful for
♡ he's not tied to the shrine, he can leave if he wanted to, and he's often out and about doing whatever he wanted to, usually finding a hapless human like you and quietly guiding them towards a better solution
♡ but you liked to visit the shrine every wednesday, so he made sure he was there every wednesday
♡ why ? because he wanted to
♡ when he finally revealed his true form to you, it was purely to educate you on something stupid that you had done, at least that's what he told himself
♡ you'd gotten cut by the bramble out in the forest while making the trip to him, and so of course he had to show his true form to bandage your wounds, that was only proper of him
♡ while biting your ear off about not even worrying about the wound until you were at the shrine. what if it got infected, or worse ? you truly were a foolish human
♡ all eight of his tails are angrily flicking the ground below him as he patches you up the best he can, meanwhile berating you for your idiocy, something that he cant stand
♡ and you're just smiling like a moron, too, despite being injured ! he can't wrap his head around you !
♡ finally, once youre all taken care of, he has to ask why you offer him food, when he just looked like a regular fox to you at the shrine
♡ possibly the most annoying thing ever, you don't have a good answer. no profound understanding, just because you want to
♡ he's so frustrated with you he's sure he may pop a blood vessel, and you offer to leave, but he tells you to stay. it would've made the trip and your injury meaningless if you left so suddenly without staying for anything
♡ and when the sun begins to set, you find him... following you away from the shrine ?
♡ ask him what he's doing and he's just going to give you a simple answer, and if this should've been common knowledge to you all along, and you were an idiot for asking
♡ " of course, someone has to watch over you to make sure you don't accidentally get yourself killed. "
— ♡ rationaliity 2024
#honkai star rail#hsr fanfic#honkai sr#dr ratio#honkai star rail x reader#x reader#hsr x reader#veritas ratio#hsr dr ratio#dr ratio x reader#drabble#ratio x reader#star rail#hsr veritas#veritas ratio x reader#veritas x reader
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Part One Two Three
Dustin looks squirrely, which is as weird as it is nerve wracking for Steve. When Dustin looks squirrely it’s usually shit like he’s keeping a baby fucking demo dog as a pet.
Which Steve just...doesn’t want to deal with it any more. He’s had enough. He needs Dustin to have normal kid shit problems, not apocalyptic ones.
So Steve is, silently, praying to whoever will listen that Dustin wants, like, the sex talk or something, and not that there’s an inter-dimensional creature with a taste for nougat in Hawkins.
“Eddie says he’s okay.”
Which, Steve just kind of shrugs, because it’s the same message Dustin’s been bringing back for months. Nancy and Robin have stopped to listen too. John and Argyle have gone on a snack run and the rest of the kids are outside; so this feels kind of worryingly tactical on Dustin’s part that he’s telling a very select group this information.
“I’m pretty sure he isn’t, though.”
“Okkkayyyy...tell us what’s going on,” Robin leans against the counter, and Steve is so glad Dustin chose to do this with the girls here.
“Well,” and Dustin looks squirrely again and Steve figures he...he thinks he must be betraying Eddie, or something, “I thought he was, at first, you know? He was planning campaigns and writing music and just seemed to be...you know. Normal.”
“But…”
“Well he...the last few times I’ve been there he...he hasn’t gotten out of bed and,” Dustin wrinkles his nose, ready for the big betrayal, “there’s always a lot of empty like, beer cans and stuff and...he smells kind of. Bad.”
The girls looks at each other before Nancy finally says, “we will go and see him, don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”
Steve watches as Dustin relaxes, and realizes for the first time that this was, probably, way over Dustin’s pay grade, emotionally speaking. They are the adults, and dealing with someone who...well, it’s got to be depression, right? Eddie was never okay, he was faking to start with. Even Steve can figure that out from what Dustin’s just said. Just because they’ve dealt with alternate dimensions and world ending monsters, it doesn’t mean that Dustin is equipped to deal with shit like this – yeah, definitely heavy stuff for a kid. And Eddie, would Eddie have been able to fake it if say the girls, or Steve, had gone over? Would they have noticed a problem that Dustin just, didn’t? Because for all they’ve been through, they’re still just kids. Dustin might not have noticed that Eddie was dragging himself out of bed and cleaning up just for the one or two hours a week that Dustin was stopping by.
But Robin would have...and Nancy definitely would have.
And now Eddie doesn’t have the energy to just...fake it any more, simple as.
This is heavy shit, too heavy for Dustin to have to deal with.
And that’s how Steve ends up ferrying the girls to the brand new Munson trailer, right at the other end of the park from where the old one was. Nancy’s in full investigative reporter mode, Steve can sense it. Luckily, Robin goes first, " we shouldn't have left him this long."
Nancy hums in agreement.
The doors not locked and no one answers, so they all end up spilling unceremoniously into the bedroom.
Dustin was being kind; it reeks of stale cigarettes and sweat. He was being nice about the beer cans too; it’s not just beer cans, worryingly there’s also empty vodka bottles and even a couple of wine bottles in the mix.
This is not something that has happened recently; this has been going on for months.
The place is a mess. Like a can’t even see the floor kind of mess.
In the middle of his visibly dirty bedding, Eddie snores on, oblivious.
“Steve, you get him in the shower, Robin and I will clean this up.”
Steve’s dubious, but he shakes Eddie’s shoulder gently. Nothing.
He tries again, firmer this time, and Eddie comes awake with an undignified snort and hands flapping at Steve’s, trying to get the movement to stop.
Steve can hear the girls rummaging out in the kitchen, looking for trash bags and rubber gloves, maybe a box for the bottles.
Maybe two boxes.
Steve shakes him again, “Eddie come on.”
Eddie does blink up at him then, clearly groggy and confused, but he smiles. Smiles so big and happy, he grasps one of Steve’s hands now, rather than trying to push it away, still smiling, he pulls it up to his mouth and kisses Steve’s knuckles softly.
Steve doesn’t know what his face is doing, but Eddie’s frowning, something like realization dawns on Eddie’s face, and then throwing Steve’s hand away like it’s burning him. Eddie moves quick, scrambling to the edge of the bed and leaning over it, and Steve realizes what’s about to happen a second too late; Eddie starts to throw up just as Steve moves, so his sneakers do get splattered a little bit.
Which...Steve’s probably trudged through worse, realistically speaking. There’s not really anything Steve can do about it now, so he gingerly sidesteps the splatter of vomit and, briefly, feels really sorry for the girls, “come on Munson, up.”
Eddie grumbles nonsensically, but does allow Steve to heave him up, his head lolling, still clearly very drunk. Eddie doesn’t put up much of a fight when Steve strips him; made easy by the fact that he’s wearing a stained tee shirt and dirty boxers that Steve abandons in a smelly pile on the bathroom floor.
He’s too thin; far too thin. Barely any weight at all on Steve’s arm, ribs all knobbly and skin stretched strangely over his joints.
Eddie slides to the floor under the warm water and Steve, not wanting to get any damper, makes no effort to stop him. At least sitting on the floor he’s safe; he can’t fall any further. Steve vaguely recalls something about little kids being able to drown in an inch of water, and keeps half an eye on Eddie as he digs around for toiletries.
He finds a sad bar of soap and shudders, but it’ll do. Steve gives Eddie the most perfunctory scrub down ever, doing his best not to look at or be aware of any part of Eddie’s body as he flicks the cloth over it.
The towel that’s hanging up looks dubious, but better than nothing.
Eddie’s showing no sign of rousing; Steve has no idea if he’s just...really really drunk still, or if he’s hiding. Steve’s brain prods at what he saw; Eddie’s reaction to him.
There’s one logical conclusion that he’s trying his best to avoid. Unfortunately, no matter how he angles it...his conclusion remains the same. There’s one obvious answer. Eddie looks like a sad drowned rat under the water, and Steve shuts it off, covering him with the one sad towel.
Eddie shivers without the heat of the water, and Steve tries not to feel guilty. This isn’t his fault. He’s not...if Eddie had a Steve, he’s not him. He didn’t, die, or anything. It’s a bit of a headfuck, and thankfully Robin interrupts by shoving the door open far enough to press through a bundle of clothes; black sleep pants and a hoodie, but better than nothing, “there’s no clean clothes, it’s the best we could find,” she whispers.
Which, okay, they’re kind of musty, but at least not obviously dirty.
Eddie huffs through Steve pulling his clothes on, standing awkwardly as Steve pulls his pants up like you would with a little kid.
Steve dumps him on the couch; immediately feeling bad about the whole thing. Guilt, maybe, but he pushes that away harshly because this isn’t Steve’s fault. It’s no one’s fault.
Well, except for the labs and then One. But there’s no one here to blame and it’s...ridiculous that Steve would feel bad about it.
This isn’t the time. Eddie’s passed out again, so Steve gets a glass of water from the kitchen, leaving it on the table where Eddie will find it, before he goes to help the girls.
“We absolutely cannot leave him here.”
“No, agreed, being alone is not good for him.”
“He’s not alone,” Steve protests, “Wayne’s here.”
“And Wayne works twelve hour nights six days a week and has done nothing about this so far,” Nancy replies, brooking no argument, “we’ll take him to yours, he needs to dry out.”
“Mine?” Steve squeaks, “look, uhm, maybe not mine-”
“Why not yours?” Robin cuts him off, “you have the space, and no one else around. I can come and stay, help you keep an eye on him.”
And although all of that is true, Steve doesn’t know how to tell them what he’s just figured out, and having Eddie in his house feels...awkward as fuck.
Eddie’s like a zombie out of one of his games. He has to be encouraged out of bed, Robin putting herself to the task, and that takes a good hour on the really bad days. He picks at toast. He picks at eggs. He picks at whatever's put in front of him.
He doesn’t fight it when they take the spirits away, he doesn’t fight it when he’s allocated three beers a day; he never looks for more. He doesn’t fight anything. He’s broken. So broken Steve has no idea what to do about it. The kids come and go, maintaining conversation around Eddie that Eddie will vaguely engage with whenever one of the kids addresses him directly.
Otherwise he sits there, inert. The kids talk about school and their nerd games and all that normal stuff, and then they leave again.
Sometimes it’s just Eddie and Steve in the house, and that's enough to make Steve want to throw himself into the lake; Eddie’s presence is uncomfortable, and Steve immediately feels guilt every time he feels like that.
Eddie saved their lives. Eddie fought off actual mind control and took out One like it was nothing. Eddie saved the world, at great fucking sacrifice to himself, and Steve feels like a total dipshit every time he has to remind himself of it.
He has to do something for Eddie. He has to try and get through to him somehow.
He has an idea, and when he tells Robin he’s going out for a bit, she doesn’t question it.
Steve delivers Wayne an update when he picks up Eddie’s records. Wayne seems like a good guy, even though he’s completely out of his depth with Eddie, he seems to be able to roll with the punches. He believes the kids want what’s best for Eddie, and that seems to be enough for him for now.
Eddie’s lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, seeing nothing.
Steve picks one of his records at random, ‘Holy Diver. Dio,’ and puts it on the record player on low. He has Eddie’s guitar too, his notebooks, the rule books from his dumb game. Steve brings it all in in bits and pieces and leaves it on the coffee table. He leans Eddie’s guitar against the end of the couch.
By the time he’s finished, Eddie seems more alert; is actually watching Steve. Steve gives him a nod, and leaves him to it.
It changes something. Something undefinable. Eddie seems to be...making an effort. Robin says she thinks he’s coming around; remembering how to be a person. She thinks he’s making a good first step. He still drinks three beers a day, but they’re pretty much the weakest ones available and Steve thinks he’s doing it more out of habit than anything. There’s no other alcohol in the house.
What Steve thinks he knows has been gnawing at him too. Bothering his insides. He understands the girls logic; this is probably the best place for Eddie to be, but given what Steve thinks he’s figured out, this might also be the absolute worst place for Eddie to be.
He feels like he’s haunting him; the dead love of Eddie’s life, following him around every single day. Steve can’t even imagine what that’s like; Eddie even just having to look at him must hurt. Other questions always follow, like, why Steve? Was it random? Eddie must be gay, right?
Was Steve just the easiest one for Eddie’s brain to summon up in the moment? Or was there something else there, feelings that were easy to manipulate? Was there a reason it was Steve, or not?
He could spend hours chasing the thoughts if he let himself. Instead he makes himself and Eddie something to eat, a couple of sandwiches, and then takes them through. He sits, eating his own, and watching as Eddie nibbles on his. Things have moved; even as Steve watches, Eddie puts down the sandwich and scribbles in his notebook.
Steve’s just getting up to leave when he stops at the sound of Eddie clearing his throat, he still won’t look at Steve when he speaks, “thanks, uhm, for getting my stuff.”
It’s been a while since Eddie has spoken to Steve directly, and Steve hesitates a second, feeling like this is his chance to try and...he doesn’t know. Say something meaningful. Fix Eddie, somehow, say the exact right thing to make it better, eventually he just says, “no problem, man.”
Eddie nods, Steve waits in case there's more, but there doesn’t seem to be. He makes it to the kitchen door before Eddie speaks again, “you guys, you’ve probably saved my life.”
He is looking up as Steve now, chewing on the end of his pencil nervously, “you saved ours first,” Steve tells him.
Eddie huffs out the smallest, driest laugh, “didn’t realize it was a competition, Harrington.”
Steve leaves him to it, it’s not much, but it’s a start.
“You had a kid, right? Tell me about them?” It’s a push Steve knows. Their brief conversations turning into the occasional ten minutes on the deck when they both go out for a cigarette might have become regular, but they’re by no means secure. Steve might be about to bring the whole fragile thing down, but he needs to know. It’s eating him alive.
Eddie just shakes his head, ‘no.’ and sips at the beer he has. A beer Steve is pretty sure Eddie should not have, even if it is only a psychological thing, at this point, but Robin continues to be adamant that Eddie going completely cold turkey would be a really bad idea, so Eddie continues to have an allowance.
‘Well, fuck it,’ Steve thinks, ‘might as well try it,’ “come on, they were ours, right?”
Eddie snorts, “she was always more like you than-” he stops, cutting himself off. But it’s all the confirmation Steve needs.
Eddie looks at him then, horrified, before scrambling up.
“Eddie, stop, it’s okay-” Steve tries.
“Fuck you Harrington,” Eddie growls at him with more emotion than Steve's seen in Eddie since the whole thing happened, and then throws the beer bottle, not at Steve, exactly, but close enough that broken glass scatters around his shoe, beer smattering the patio slabs and the smell of it rising to fill Steve’s nose almost immediately.
Eddie stomps into the house, and Steve can hear Robin asking what happened, clearly concerned; she must have heard the bottle smash, “I cannot stay here with him,” Eddie spits, before the moment passes.
Robin comes out a moment later, “Nancy’s with him, what the fuck just happened?”
Steve’s a little stunned by the confirmation and then the close run in with the beer bottle, but regardless he wouldn’t hide this from Robin, “it was me, Robs. The...Eddie’s wife? I guess, not a wife, me.”
@autumncrocusandladybug @duckyreads @neonfruitbowl @slv-333 @starlight-archer @skys-archive @justdreamersdream @moomkin77 @prazinos @dragonmama76 @lingeringmirth @darkwitchoferie @weirdandabsurd42 @zoeweee @thennic @xiaq @tinyplanet95 @steddieyourself @chrystal-lovee @futuristicunknown86 @grtwdsmwhr @mugloversonly @wonderland-girl143-blog @a-little-unsteddie @marvel-ous-m @ajeff855 @gutterflower77 @thedragonsaunt @xxbottlecapx @hairdryerducks @catateme9 @gleek4twd @jaytriesstrangerthings @rovia2323 @carlajim98 @stevesbipanic @steddiecameraroll @thermofisherscientific @ninjapirateunicorns @whenindoubtb72 @dreamwatch @spectrum-spectre @eddiethehunted @sticknpokelightningbolt @kittycatcrackhead @hawkinshighflunkee @plasticcrotches @metalmunson @rosered93 @p0lybl4nkk @bluexvelvet @nicememerino @semi-precious-stoner @persnicketysquares @bj-freeplay @practicallybegging @yesdangerpls @cryptid-system @nadineseaday @platinum-sunset @bookworm0690 @clockworkballerina
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Limerence (ft. ILLIT Minju)
I don't even know what to call this. Somewhat of a fluff but not really a fluff either. Something that just pops into my mind.
"So he asked 'Is it better to speak or die?' "
"That's the stupidest story I have ever heard"
Minju leaves no chance for you to savour that feeling that comes after quoting something particularly clever. Or she's just being a jerk as usual.
"You are just anti-romantic"
You protest though you know she will have thought of a retort before you finish.
"There's nothing romantic about this story"
"It's a love story for christ's sake"
"Where's the 'love' ?"
You slump back in your chair, defeated. Either she's too dumb to understand your point or you are just bad at telling stories. The latter's probably more likely.
The story's not an ordinary one in the first place. It involves a knight and a princess but it ends neither with a 'happily ever after' nor a bloodbath where they both rip their hearts out. There isn't even an ending.
'Is it better to speak or die?'
The last sentence on this paper of the dusty hard covered book which has turned yellow from the years it have endured. It's a mircale how it's still intact.
You mummur the question under your breath, trying to make sense of the words. But they are still nothing more than a jumbled mess in your mind.
The funny thing is, this is not your first time reading this story. You are actually too familiar with it. The setting, the characters, the way it almost seems to tell the secret you have carefully hidden; it doesn't make sense that you are still confused what this single question everything has lead up to mean. Still, you are here, no wiser than the first time you have read this tale.
In some time immemorial in an unknown kingdom lived a princess and a knight, each a good friend to another. Perhaps because of this closeness, the knight started to feel something more than companionship to the princess. Feelings that shouldn't exist given their scoial status. The princess knew it too though she ptetends to be oblivious. Nonetheless, the knight found himself unable to express his desires - torn between the fear of losing what he currently has and the turmoil of hiding himself. So one day, when he took his usual walk with the princess through the garden, he mustered up the courage to ask one single question.
"Is it better to speak or die?"
The End.
Anyone can guess at this point that the knight meant if it's better to put his feelings into words and sacrifice their friendship or die knowing that he will never have what he wants. You wish it's that simple.
You and Minju have been stuck in the same page for an hour now, still having no idea how to progress your assignment. The task was a paper on an in depth analysis on a tale of your choice. Now you regret not choosing 'The Tortoise & The Hare".
"Why do you choose this one anyway? There are like a million other better choices"
Minju says, gesturing at the endless shelves of books that surround you on all sides. Not millions but perhaps a thousand other choices you could have made in this rectangular bank of knowledge; the local library.
Somewhere distinct, you hear a bell chimes, signaling the arrival to the later hour of the night. You glance at your watch. It's already 9 pm. A cough reasonates from the counter near the entrance, emitted by none other than the librarian. The ghastly old woman seems to be signalling that we don't have much time left.
I don't have much time left.
Minju's translucent pupils are fixed on you, still waiting for your answer. You break out of the haze.
"Because it's.."
'Relatable'. The word is 'Relatable'. But she doesn't need to know that. Never.
"Interesting I guess"
You finish, not quite daring to meet her eyes. She might see the guilt of your dishonest words in them.
"Seriously? This is interesting? Next time you think something is interesting, feel free to ask my opinion"
"Not everyone have great taste"
You mean it to be a playful jab but her face distorts to something along the line of fury and hurt. And her lips part.
No. Please don't be mad.
Please.
"Jerk"
Her words put out the flames of fear threatening to rise in your chest. There. All good. She's not mad.
You let out a sigh of relief but quickly mask it as a half formed scoff. She can't know. So you waver her attention.
"Tell me then. What's your opinion on this story apart from it being hopelessly stupid"
Her lips stretch to a soft smile. You have put her back into her comfort zone.
"It's not about love like you think. It's about cowardice"
"Enlighten me"
She crosses her arms, the pose she always takes before her rosy lips spill out a waterfall of the most beautiful syllables. It also makes her look superior. The table, which is the only thing between you two seems like a brick wall now.
"The knight doesn't say 'I love you' or anything of that sort, does he? He's scared out of his wits so he decided to go for a safer alternative. That question. It literally says 'I'm a coward who can't even properly confess' "
Is she mocking you?
Probably not. She doesn't know. She will never know.
Still....
'Is it better to spek or die?'
A coward's attempt at love; complicated and imperfect. At least he has the courage to mutter those cowardly words.
"You are not wrong but can't it be that he's just scared of losing her?"
Yes. You are referring to yourself.
But she won't know.
"He already loses her after saying these words"
"You don't know that. You don't know what the pericess's answer was. She could have accepted him"
"You don't know that either"
Now she's fighting you with your own words.
"What would you have answered if you were the princess then?"
Is that an indirect confession? An attempt to ask her opinion without facing the shame that comes after rejection? You hope not.
"I don't know...I would probably ask him to speak in English"
"Not funny at all"
Your answer makes her raise her brows in disbelief as if saying - "I know I will never not be funny to you. You are too obsessed with me not to."
But that's impossible. She doesn't know.
Has she spoken these words aloud, you would happily agree with her. But that's just momentary courage. Your tongue would be tied to knots in a hearbeat if that ever happens.
That begs the question again.
'Is it better to speak or die?'
"Whatever" she says in exasperation. "I'm not lovey dovey enough for this"
"Seriously. Just tell me what you would have said"
There. You are pushing again, desperate for that answer even if it's not directed at you. You would cling to a tiny hope if it's ever a positive one.
"I don't know. Probably tell him to speak because I don't want anyone going suicidal mode because of me"
"He will still go suicidal if you reject him after he confess"
"Why are you asking me those? Were you in such a situation before?"
You surpress a chuckle that nearly slips your tongue.
What a fool you are Minju. You can't even spot the truth that's hidden in plain sight. The truth that has gone rusty and rotten because it has been locked up for so long. Still, it's not her fault.
You have hidden it so well.
She doesn't need to know.
"Yes"
You can't believe you say the word. It's as if someone has possessed you and put those words on your tongue.
"Poor you"
And just like that, it ends.
You have expected her to push you, given her curious nature. You want her to lend you the courage to say those words you have mummur countless times in your dreams. But she just leaves you hanging there like that. Cruel.
Can't blame her though.
She doesn't know.
Another cough pierces through the invisible viel that has seperated you two from the world outside.
9:25 pm.
5 minutes away until this tedious session of back and forth ends.
Why is it that you don't want it to end?
The papers in front of you are bare as they were an hour ago. The book still turned at the same page. The question that haunts you still lies there, imprinted in black.
'Is it better to speak or die?'
Neither. Because that's a stupid question just like Minju said. It's constructed to mess with your mind. You gotta stop dwelling on it.
"Anyway-"
Chimes
That sound. It can only mean one thing.
Minju pulls her phone out of her pocket, the glow of it illuminating her angelic feature as she turns it on. Not a moment sooner, her lips hold the prettiest of smiles.
And in all the wrong ways.
"Gotta go"
Her dismissal cuts through the tense air as she hurriedly put the papers back into her bag. Is she that desperate to get away from you?
"My boyfriend's waiting for me. We have a date tonight"
You are not angry. It would be wrong. Though it's only natural to envy the one who's living your fantasy. But the faults are not in our stars.
"Alright. Goodnight"
Minju's footsteps echo on the mahogany floor as she finally escapes the torturous session you have put her though, flying away to an embrace better than yours in every way.
But it's ok.
Because she doesn't know.
She gives a quick wave to the old librarian who does nothing to reciprocate the action. That hag doesn't know how lucky she is.
"Minju"
You call before the rest of her form disppears through these creaking doors. She turns on her heels, a stray strand of hair clinging like an unifinished piece of art to her forehead. The shadows cast by the moonlight does nothing to hide her.
"Yes?"
You breath.
And utter.
"Is it better to speak or die?"
___________________________________________
Took the famous question from the movie "Call me by your name". Though I alter the story. Thanks for reading this madness.
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"down bad"
"fuck it if i can't have us."
gojo was used to getting everything he wanted – clothes, sweets, fancy chairs; you name it, he had it. but you? he'd never wanted anything more in his entire life, and you were just out of his reach.
the two of you had shared the same apartment for six months shortly after being introduced by his friend, geto. a sweet smile, bedroom eyes, and cleverness which rivaled his own drew him to you. how convenient was it that both of you had been looking for a roommate at the exact same time?
you sat on the opposite end of the couch (his couch), sprawled out in a fashion that made your ass peek out from the hem of your shorts. just as he had done for the past year, gojo clenched his jaw with the effort it took not to stare. he dug his nails into his palms to take the edge off the desire to pull you into his lap and squeeze. he imagined, and not for the first time, how soft you'd feel grinding on his cock through the many cursed layers of clothing.
but it shouldn't be that way, because you were roommates– friends. it would be stupid to jeopardize such a thing but god, he wanted. the urge to say, 'fuck it' and confess his feelings overcame him once again coupled with a pounding heart. he opened his mouth to speak, your name forming on his lips–
and a sudden, simple announcement from you was enough to rob gojo of the last of his rationality.
"i have a date."
it was said with that pretty smile and genuine enthusiasm, and all gojo could feel was pure unbridled jealousy. who could possibly be making you blush like that? it hit him like a physical blow to the chest; you may as well have punched him in the gut.
"what?" the word came out harshly, much more than gojo knew he was entitled to, but it spilled out of him, nonetheless. "with who?"
you were visibly stunned by his response– gojo never raised his voice, never was cross with you. he was jovial, carefree, downright silly, never getting upset for any reason, not even when you drunkenly spilled a cocktail on his very expensive sofa. but even the most solid of foundations will crack after enough wear and tear.
since you'd moved in together, neither of you had brought someone home, and gojo had begun to think of you as his. incessant casual flirting, fleeting "accidental" touches, sharing the intimacies of mundane life– didn't that mean you wanted him, too?
you spit out some name that gojo didn't even hear, but he noticed the hesitation in your answer.
"no."
you blinked at him. "satoru?"
fuck it.
gojo closed the space separating you, crawling over your body and pinning you to the couch on your back. he plucked your phone from your hand and tossed it carelessly on the coffee table with a thud, earning a surprised squeak from you.
"satoru, what-" you were breathless, looking up into his eyes with panic.
he didn't bother to give a verbal response, instead leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. he half-expected you to shove him off, but pure excitement and possession blew through his chest when your hand slipped over the back of his neck to draw him closer.
"the only person you'll have a date with," satoru said. "is me."
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#jjk fanfic#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo smut#part 1 methinks
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why’d you only call me when you’re high? ( 이희승 )
you keep telling yourself you’re done with heeseung and his late night calls, but the door’s still unlocked. it’s the same cycle: him showing up, you giving in, and both pretending it means something.
pairing: heeseung x fem. reader [ masterlist ]
warnings: toxicity, alcohol mentions, drug mentions (weed), heeseung is high, heeseung is an asshole, kissing, skinship, angst, reader is lowkey kind of dumb
word count: 1.3k
🖇️ : a bit different than the stuff i usually post but yeah
you stare down at the message on your phone, the screen illuminating your face in the darkness of your living room. the words blur slightly, not because you're crying- no, you're well past that- but your tired eyes can't believe this is happening again.
heeseung: you up?
three words. simple and deliberate. always arriving at the same time. they're heeseung's signature, a routine written into your life against your will. you don't need to ask why he's texting you now, hours past midnight when everyone is asleep and the streets empty and bare. the answer is always the same. he's either drunk, high, or both. and he wants you to be the soft landing he definitely doesn't deserve.
your fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitant and unsure. it always goes like this. you know fully well that if you reply, you'll end up letting him step into your home in hopes of something. and you know fully well that when you wake up tomorrow morning, he'll be long gone. bed empty, leaving you to piece together the wreckage he never stays long enough to clean.
your phone vibrates suddenly in your hand, heeseung's number popping up on the screen. he's calling you, and all you can do is stare at the green and red buttons in surprise. it only occurs to you know that you still haven't deleted his contact after countless times of telling yourself you would.
you don't even know why you're surprised that he’s calling. when the liquor burns and the smoke clouds his mind, you're the only number heeseung remembers.
with trembling fingers, you click the green button. you click the green button even though you know you'll regret it later. you click the green button just like you did a hundred times before because as much as you hate to admit it, you can never ignore him.
you never learn, do you?
"y/n," heeseung's voice says from the phone, and you lean back on the sofa, holding your breath. his words are slurred and delayed, his speech fragmented and disjointed. "can i come over?"
you let out the breath you've been holding and grip the phone tighter in your hand. "heeseung... are you- are you high?"
there's a pause before heeseung speaks again. perhaps he's taking a drag from his joint. chugging down some liquor. "no, no, i'm not. i swear i'm not. i swear."
"you are," you say, dragging a hand down your face. you shouldn't have picked up. you shouldn't have. you should've let it ring out, or even better, decline it. delete his contact for real this time. but you still answered, foolishly hoping that things will be different this time. that he'll be different this time.
it always comes down to hope with you, doesn't it?
"i miss you," heeseung drawls. "i want you so bad, baby."
you squeeze your eyes shut, a thousand thoughts crossing your mind. he doesn't want you, not really- only the fleeting comfort you offer when he's high and hollow.
"the door's unlocked."
***
it was a mistake to invite him.
you should lock the door. turn off your phone, climb into bed, and let heeseung knock until his knuckles bruise blue and purple. but you don't. instead, you stand there, in front of the empty door, waiting for the sound of his unsteady footsteps climbing up the stairs. the familiar click of the door opening. heeseung still knows the password to your home, and even though you know you should change it, you never do. you blame it on forgetfulness and laziness and come up with all sorts of excuses to calm down the erratic thoughts in your brain. gaslighting yourself that there really is no bigger reason as to why the set of numbers still remain untouched.
but no matter how many times you try to deny it, you know fully well what the reason is.
when the door opens, you take a step back as you stare. heeseung's hair is messy, his shirt wrinkled and his eyes glassy with desperation your naive self had once thought could fix. his lips twitch into a sort of half smile when he sees you.
"y/n," he says, kicking off his shoes and walking over to you like he owns the place. he towers over you, smiling down at you with a strange, twisted expression you can't really comprehend. you catch a whiff of alcohol and weed from him, a confirmation you didn't really need. you knew from the message. you knew.
before you can say a word, heeseung steps forward and pushes you against the wall, hands on your waist, firm and unrelenting, and the dull thud of your head meeting the surface that only seems to surprise you. you barely have the time to register the discomfort before his lips crash onto yours. messy, almost desperate, and the taste of alcohol and smoke floods your senses, bitter and suffocating.
you know you should push him away- your mind screams it over and over. but your body betrays you, frozen in place. his lips press harder against yours as if he's trying to erase the memories he left last time, and you let him. you let him because, for a fleeting moment, the weight of your loneliness feels lighter.
your hands hover uncertainly over his shoulders, slightly shaking. you don't want to pull him closer, but you can't seem to let go either. when your fingers finally make contact with the warmth of his skin, it's tentative, almost apologetic. you grip tightens as you kiss him back, as if holding him will keep him from slipping away again. but deep down, you know it won't. you know how this ends.
but ignorance is bliss, isn't it?
you pull away for a few seconds to look at heeseung's eyes, bloodshot and glazed over.
"why do you keep doing this, hee?"
hee. you don't try to mask the way the nickname slipped out of your mouth like second nature. heeseung's probably noticed it too. you can tell, from the way the corners of his lips quirk up.
he doesn't answer right away. he kisses your lips again, one hand on your waist and the other at the back of your head.
"because you let me."
the words feel like a punch to the gut, but you don't flinch. he's not wrong. he's never been wrong about that.
you should kick him out. lock the door. delete his number.
but tonight, you'll let him stay. just one more time.
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