#and totally not being forgotten by the author
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junk-heart · 1 year ago
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They're falling down that specific canon related hole
Love how Hidan's hair stays in place even though he's falling (the amount of who knows what he puts on his head makes his hair as hard as concrete)
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A closer pic
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hickeygender · 11 months ago
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you ever write up a combination of words you're really proud of at the time bc you think it's vivid but it's actually so atrocious that you remember it eight years later bc it's burned itself into your long-term memory? just me?
#i'm literally laughing my entire ass off rn. i can't believe i found this fic i wrote at 15 and orphaned when i came to my senses abt both#my complete inability and total aversion to writing first person as well as the fact that the english language should never have been#subjected to its words being done dirty like this 😭#also i straight up fucking LIED in the authors note??? i said i'd broken my knee as a kid which is categorically false. i fell down some#stairs and banged it up and it's a tiny bit weak ig but i didn't break it? all any teens born after y2k know is eat hot chip and lie...#still not over the first line... the flip flop bit i remembered but i'd COMPLETELY forgotten 'a shriek seeped out of my throat'. girl. what.#how does a shriek seep exactly? the world may never know...#and the use of 'groped' is also sending me 😭 AND 'crash bash whump thump' girlllll send help holy shit i can't stop coughing & laughing#the rest of the fic isn't quite this bad but it's very purple yet ineloquent and rough. it's a good reminder of how much i've improved and#honestly i'd rather read this utterly amature fic bc it's at least charming in its lack of skill rather than infuriating like some of my#oneshots that are still on my page bc they're more comprehensible but just bad enough to make me cringe. getting mad at this oneshot would#be like getting bad at a kid's stick figure drawing. like. it's just kinda cute to see someone starting out on their creative journey#my old sw oneshots on the other hand are like the awkward growing pains of puberty. you just can't help but wince at the reminder#this is okay to reblog btw bc it's objectively hilarious and i don't mind ppl finding humor in it#len speaks
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wereshrew-admirer · 2 years ago
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the figure in bysmuth -> the demeaning and invasive process of treating ADHD
chine the cleaver -> the symptoms of ADHD, untreated
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fixomnia-scribble · 2 years ago
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Scientists are very serious.
This is a post about science. And soup.
Dr. Elinne Becket, a microbiologist from Cal State University, is in the middle of one of those Fridge Experiments that happens to us all - except in this case, she is uniquely placed to unravel the science down to the microbial level.
While cleaning out her fridge, Dr. Becket found that a tub of family-recipe beef vegetable soup had turned bright blue. “Ok I'm outing myself here,” she tweeted, “but there was forgotten beef soup in our fridge we just cleaned it out and it was BLUE?!?!? Wtf contam would make it blue??? Like BRIGHT blue!!  Even w/ all my years in micro I'm not handling this well.“
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Read on for a breathless and ongoing saga of Soup and Science, and the wonderful international community that is Academic Twitter.
Academic Twitter quickly reminded her of her Responsibilities to Scientific Inquiry. (Cue the chanting from around the world of “CLONE THE SOUP! CLONE THE SOUP!”)
“I can’t believe y’all talked me into going back into the trash.” she tweeted in response, over a photo of a puddle of beautiful Mediterranean-sea blue soup in the trash bin, with bits of veg and noodles arising from the depths.
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Scientists being scientists, Dr. Becket agreed to take a sample and send it to colleagues for cloning and microbial analysis.This involved getting arms-deep into the trash bin of Old Soup. “I’m never forviging @ATinyGreenCell (genomic biologist Sebastian Cocioba) for this.” Dr. Becket tweeted, with a photo of a properly dipped and snipped and VERY blue q-tip in a small clear plastic tub.
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Diving into decomposing soup was not the only hazard. She writes: “My mom (who made the soup for my birthday) came across this thread and now 1) I have to answer for letting her soup spoil and 2) she's worried @ATinyGreenCell will figure out her secret recipe.“
Dr. Becket and Sebastian were able to culture the Blue Goo!
Becket posted a photo of three petri plates of streaked beef bouillon agar at 72 hours incubation, at 37C, room temp and 4C. She writes: “Left the plates where they were for another 2 days, except the 37°C one was brought to RT, which then grew white stuff over the yellow stuff and stinks to high heaven. RT looked the same. 4°C had impressive growth. Restreaked them all onto TECH agar, awaiting results!”
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Sebastian, from his lab, tweeted a photo of three more covered petri dishes, with early results: “Great progress on isolating the glowy microbe from our #BlueSoup! It's so fluorescent the streak is GREEN. Still needs another restreak as it seems there is a straggler but should clear up in the next plate. Exciting!”
Then yesterday, Sebastian tweeted out an updated photo of his plates under daylight and blacklight. “Whatever grew on the #BlueSoup colony plates overnight glows under UV, but only on King's Agar B! That particular media is used to tease out fluorescein expression in pseudomonads. What are the chances that the same cell line expresses fluorescent AND blue pigments?“
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“Looking closer, there definitely is a handful of different microbes showing distinct phenotypes. Could be that the blue producer and the fluorescent microbes are totally different microbes!”
At which point, Professor Cynthia Whitchurch of Norwich, England, responded: “Consistent with P. fluorescens being at least part of the #BlueSoup community. The fluorescence is due to production of the siderophore pyoverdine which is up-regulated when iron availability is limited. P. aeruginosa produced this too but my guess is you have blue Pf.”
And Australian agricultural researcher @WAJWebster helpfully tweeted a petri dish of ALL KINDS of colourful bacterial colonies from white to yellow to orange to stark black, with a cheerful: “You need bact-o--colours? I got you, fam.”
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The best part is that as of today, March 9, 2023, THE BLUE SOUP MYSTERY CONTINUES. WE ARE WATCHING SCIENCE HAPPENING!
A paper is being written. And Dr. Becket’s mum is getting an author credit as the proprietary owner of the #BlueSoup recipe.
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Dr. Becket’s Twitter is here: https://twitter.com/bielleogy
Sebastian Cocioba’s Twitter is here: https://twitter.com/ATinyGreenCell
Fun IFLS story is here: https://www.iflscience.com/microbiologist-investigates-after-her-beef-soup-turned-blue-in-the-freezer-67894?fbclid=IwAR0H27KqVZhzzrosnjzzKkxuKASZ-0L0Lt6hGwCRDJK8xvFbbSlyS4JvwlM
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casinocarpediem · 9 months ago
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▪︎■☆ молоко 🥛 ☆■▪︎
(Translation: Milk)
Part 1, Part 2
☆ 🔞!!NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!🔞
☆ amab! Switch! Francis Mosses / gn! Switch! Reader
☆ Reader can have either amab genitalia or a strap
☆ soft sex
☆ implied Russian speaking Francis
☆ short
☆ a little bit of a twist in the end
☆ author has played Not My Neighbor
°○☆nsfw under the cut☆○°
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Francis was usually a laid back person who had a hard time showing any physical reactions to his feelings (not out of being stoic, usually he's just a little too tired to smile when he's happy or scream when he's scared). He wasn't one to smile all the time, but he showed his affection through other means. Like walking behind your back and kissing the nape of your neck and whispering "Золотце" (darling) behind your ear.
Or offering you some of his milk from work that his job wasn't able to sell so that you both could make something together or eat cereal together. There are a lot of doppelgangers everyday, everywhere, so he really cares about you. Even when he's usually too tired to express it with his face, he'll do so with his actions.
D.D.D. Is a pretty strict, so you and him made it an effort to always do everything required. If he forgot his hat at home he'd have a spare at work. You'd both work on your entry requests and always keep your ID's with you and to try to make an effort to always add your names on the list. Even if there would be an emergency at work. Just some extra measures to ease his anxiousness. And yours.
Other than that, being with him is always sweet. Like a warm mug of milk on a cold day. Steaming and keeping you warm.
Not to mentioned the sex with him. God. There's something about him and sex that makes you glad he's yours and yours alone.
His fingers are long. Not that thick, but he knew how to use them. Keenly observing your reactions within each prod as his digits brushed against a bundle of nerves that has you clutching his neck tight and holding him closer to you as he whispers "Куколка (dolly)... mmm... look at you"
He's not as verbal but he certainly has a smile on his face when he pleasures you and gives you what you want. Stroking and rubbing st your junk, it's wet. Thanks to him latching his mouth on the organ so that you could cum a couple times beforehand. He just wants to make you happy not gonna lie.
Oh, but sometimes he'll end up being a little too tired from work and not have the stamina to move at all. Not to worry! He'll be your pillow princess for the night. He loves those nights. You'll kiss his forehead softly whilst you thrust inside of him. A slow, passionate pace. You're slowly rearranging his guts while he holds the sheets so tight you'll fear they might rip in the morning.
He's a hummer. He'll hum and murmur stupid when he's fucking you. Or when you're fucking him. Phrases like "mmm... oh... З-Золотце... mmmmnnn..."
He can't help it! Even if he tried. He got shy about it actually but when you do engaged in sex more he felt like comfortable doing it. Honestly it's adorable.
Especially when he's giving oral. He's humming and drunk on the taste of you and he's always humming and moaning softly as you use him, and it feels so good. The added stimulation is so goddamn heavenly. And he's always good. He'd never tease and he never uses his teeth. He doesn't mind though if you do it. He's flexible with your desires. As long as if it isn't extreme or legitimately disgusting.
You love him so much and he loves you too and the entire building definitely knows.
...
So when he comes home with an odd demeanor. As if he's forgotten everything you two shared previously, as if hes a totally different person, you'll only have yourself to save before it's too late.
.
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baronessvonglitter · 5 months ago
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Like a Good Girl Should
mom's sleazy bf!Joel Miller x f!Reader
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Word count: 2.7K
Summary: Your mom's sleazy new boyfriend Joel Miller is the last person you'd ever want to be alone with.. so how did you end up on his lap getting punished?
WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, sleazy!Joel, dominant!Joel, using panties for masturbation, mention of dad in prison & brief prison r@pe joke, slut shaming reader's mom, mild violence, dubious consent (at first), spanking, thigh spanking, pussy spanking, rough fingering, threat of fisting, squirting, masturbation, ejaculation on body, no use of y/n, pet names ('daddy' and 'sir' for Joel; little girl, baby girl, darlin', sweetheart for reader), no specific age for Joel mentioned but there's still an age gap as reader is in college. (If I've forgotten any, please let me know!)
Author's Note: AKA I've got a hankerin' for some spankerin'!
I've had this fic on my mind for a week and now it's finally out. I tried to make Joel as sleazy as I could without being a total nightmare. Thanks to everyone who showed interest when it was a seedling of an idea. I'm honestly looking forward to writing whatever my next kink hyperfixation will be!
JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST
divider by @saradika-graphics👑
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You fucking hate Joel Miller.
He's the asshole who moved in a few months ago.
With your dad in prison, your mom lamented the loss of a man around the house, until one night she brought Joel home with her after meeting him at a sleazy beer joint. And he never left.
He's offensive in every way: he doesn't pick up after himself, doesn't help out with the chores, drinks milk straight from the carton, and walks around in the morning in nothing but his briefs, proudly showing off his god damn morning wood.
Not that you've looked..
And every night it's the same hectic squeaking of your mom's bedsprings, the same quick, loud shrieks followed by moans that crescendo in pitch until it all falls silent, only to start up again fifteen minutes later.
Not that you listen.
He makes no secret about ogling you, making suggestive comments on your clothing (or lack thereof). You count the days until you have enough saved up to move out while you're still attending junior college.
When your mom's working the late shift at the diner down the road, you do some cleaning up while Joel sits on his ass watching some stupid 80s action movie. You gather your clothes and put them in the washer, one by one, making sure the right things are inside out, and that pant legs aren't twisted up.
You find your favorite pair of panties, hot pink silk, the first nice pair of panties you purchased yourself at a fancy lingerie store. Horror makes your stomach sink when you look closer at the crotch of the panties, seeing a glob of what you're one hundred percent sure is cum.
Joel.
You confront him about it and he doesn't even bother to deny it. He simply kicks back on the sofa (fully clothed for once) and tells you you should take it as a compliment.
You should take him jacking off into your favorite pair of panties.. as a compliment.
Seeing red, you tell him to fuck off, to get out, that you'll tell your mom what he's been doing, but he gets up and towers over you, backing you to the wall.
"You ain't gonna do shit, little girl."
"Try me," you dare him.
The look on his face makes you wonder if he'd rather kill you or devour you on the spot.
"Get the fuck out," you whisper, eyes blazing with fury.
"Listen, little girl, and listen good: I'm here whether you like it or not, so get used to it. As long as your mama wants a piece of this," he cups his crotch as you look away in disgust. "Then I'm stayin'. And as long as I'm stayin', it's my rules that run this place, you hear?"
"You can't tell me what to do!" You shout back indignantly.
He scoffs as you say that, irritation flaring at your defiant tone. He shakes his head, continuing to glare at you. "Oh, yes I can, darlin'. As long as you're livin' under my damn roof, I can tell you to do whatever I want you to do, whenever I damn well please."
"This isn't your fucking house!"
"I'm the only man here, ain't I?"
"Then I'm moving out!"
"No you're not! Don'tcha even think about it!"
"You gonna stop me?"
He lets out a dangerous rumble as you challenge him, his eyes narrowing, practically daring you to push him. "Try it and see what happens."
In your room you grab a duffel bag and cram some clothes and necessary items in there. Already Joel is storming into the hall, his boots loud against the wooden floor.
"You gotta be kiddin' me," he shakes his head.
"Told you I'm leaving. Don't know why you won't believe me."
"Where ya goin'? To that lil' drug dealer boyfriend of yours?" he sneers.
"So what if I am?"
"The hell you will. If you let him anywhere near you, I'm breakin' his damn legs."
His eyes go wide as you storm past him and head for the front door. His hand shoots out and grabs your arm before you can get too far. "Oh, no, ya don't," he growls, grabbing and jerking you back toward him. He grips your upper arm tightly as he spins you around to face him.
"Let me go!"
He scowls, keeping you in place in front of him. "No, I'm not lettin' you go, darlin'. Not until you quit bein' a brat and calm the hell down."
"Don't call me a brat!"
He grins at this. "Then stop actin' like one. You've been runnin' your mouth ever since I came here, and now you're makin' threats ya can't follow through on and bein' an uptight little bitch."
"Go to hell!" You spit at him, a glob of your saliva lands on his cheek and he wipes it off with his fingers, putting them them in his mouth to suck it off. You watch with mild disgust even as you're a little turned on.
"Oh, I should put you over my damn knee and tan that sassy little ass of yours until you behave yourself, darlin'."
You cross your arms. "You don't have the balls!"
A smirk crosses his face. "You can see for yourself, darlin'." He cups his crotch, drawing your eyes to him even though you don't want to.
"You really think I'm not gonna put ya over my knee and paddle that cute little ass 'til it's raw?"
"You wouldn't!"
A smirk creeps over his face at the uncertainty in your voice, his hand moves down to your hip, fingers digging in the flesh. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel your panties dampen.
"Nah, you're pussy's speakin' for ya. I can see it already, you soakin' up those lil' shorts of yours."
You're too turned on to risk speaking, struggling against him because it's the only way you can fight back, prove him wrong.
"There's no escape from daddy, darlin', You're stuck. And you're gonna be punished until ya behave yourself."
You growl, "You're not my fuckin' daddy!"
He grins at you, grabs a handful of your hair, yanking it brutally to force you to look up at him. "That's right. Your daddy's in prison, probably gettin' passed around like the little bitch he is. I'm your daddy, darlin', and don'tcha forget it. I'm the one protectin' you, takin' care of you, and now daddy's gonna put you in your place."
He jerks you towards the sofa, pulling you over his lap so your ass is squarely on his thighs, your top half pressed into the sofa cushions at an awkward angle, holding yourself up on your forearms so you can breathe, watching helplessly as he pulls down your shorts and panties in one go, leaving your ass bare to him. He drops your clothes to the floor. The way your positioned he can also see your pussy lips, swollen with excitement.
One arm on your back holds you down, the other trails its fingertips across your smooth, supple skin, giving you goosebumps, causing your cunt to clench, much to your horror.
"You've been very naughty today, darlin', haven't you?" he prefaces your punishment, giving your ass a light swat to punctuate his words.
You're too stunned to move or speak.
He runs his large, rough hand over your ass, squeezing one of your cheeks as he looks down at you, his voice low and stern: "Answer me, baby girl. You know you're supposed to answer your daddy when he asks a question." He gives your ass a sharper smack, the sound of his hand on your flesh reverberating in the room, shameful to your ears.
You give a sharp gasp. "Yes! I was being naughty!"
"That's right. You were bein' a bad girl, a sassy little brat who keeps gettin' smart with daddy." He rubs his hand over your ass, then gives it a few little swats, each one harder than the last, building up a stinging heat on your flesh.
You squirm under each spanking, seeking friction for your aching clit.
"Stay. Still," he orders in a growl.
"Daddy, it aches," you whine, not talking about the spankings. There's a wetness growing between your thighs, glistening, catching Joel's attention like a raven sighting something shiny in the grass. He growls, his touch hovering over your folds, not yet ready to give in to your needs.
"I know it aches, baby girl. But it's supposed to. It's your punishment for being a naughty little brat." He doesn't allow himself to focus on it, his hand grabbing your thigh instead. "Open your legs wider," he commands when you try to squeeze them together to get some relief.
Your scent rouses him when you open your legs just a little. He forces them apart and slaps the insides of your thighs, his dick getting harder when you cry out from sensitivity.
"Does that hurt, baby girl?" his voice is mockingly gentle as he runs his calloused fingers over your inflamed skin. When you nod instead of giving a vocal answer he slaps another palm against your already-stinging skin. "Answer me," he warns.
"Y-yes.." you reply, trying like hell to close your legs, but he keeps you down, keeps them forced apart just enough. "Fuck.." you mutter, eyes closed as more of your desire drips out of you, running down your thighs to his jean-covered lap.
He feels your excitement, the warmth you give off, feels your slick dripping out of you like sap from a tree. He knows if he slides inside you right now you'd be hot, wet, accommodating his fingers, his tongue, his cock, whatever else he wants to put in your little fuckhole. But he has control. He waits you out.
"What was that?" he snaps, giving you another spank, slightly harder than before. "Did you just curse at me, baby girl? I don't think I'm gonna go easy on you if you're gonna keep usin' that filthy mouth for that kinda language."
The dark, damp spot you created on his jeans grows, as does his enjoyment. He's hard as a rock, wishing you were placed just so so that you can feel it. He imagines you rubbing your needy unclothed cunt across the crotch of his jeans, satisfying yourself on just his clothed cock.
"Are you enjoyin' your punishment?" He mocks you once again, lightly brushing his knuckles across your puffy, drooling pussy lips, smirking when you whimper and shiver, trying to lift your hips to his touch. "Shh.. you don't get to be greedy right now, sweetheart. This is daddy's time to teach you a lesson. You're gonna be a good girl and let me teach you that lesson, aren't you?"
"Yes, daddy," you whine. Your entire body is aflame with need, brimming over with desperation. You'll do anything he wants, suck his cock, take his dick in whichever hole he pleases, so long as your frustration is released, so long as you get to come.
"That's more like it," he praises, his hand moving across your sore buttocks, softly touching before landing another stinging slap. "Good girls listen to daddy, and good girls take their punishments without complainin' and cryin'. They just take it, like a good girl should."
The need for friction, your pussy left wanting and vulnerable, brings you to tears, despite his warning not to cry, "Wanna.. be good for daddy."
"I don't know if you can be good.. don't know if it's in your nature. Got a felon for a father and a whore for a mother. I think you're just plain bad.. might need to stay on my lap for a long time." He lands a slap, watching your ass jiggle with the force of it.
"Please," you whine.
"Aw, what's wrong, darlin'? You seem like somethin's botherin' you." Two more slaps, one on each ass cheek before he grabs one at a time, squeezing hard on the flesh, relishing the heat radiating from your skin, and spanking them again. "How's your ass feel, sweetheart? All warm and tender and sore?" He soothes you with his hand.
"Yes.. yes, sir."
He chuckles lowly. "Daddy likes it when you call him 'sir'. You get points for that, baby girl. Now answer my question."
Question..question.. Every time he speaks, his actions override it, but he did ask how you were feeling, if you were sore. "Yes. But I still ache.. inside."
His cock twitches in his jeans and he adjusts himself beneath you. "Still achin' inside, huh? Need some relief? Need daddy to help you out?"
"Yes, daddy." Your fingers grip the couch cushion.
He gives your hair another tug, yanking your head back, forcing you to look up at him. "What did I tell you just now about callin' me 'sir'?"
Your eyes meet his and you swallow, but your mouth refills with saliva. Your mouth is as wet as your cunt, hoping he'll fill one or the other. Preferably both. "Yes, sir, daddy.. please.. help me."
"You're so sweet when you ask so nicely, beggin' me to take care of you." He lets go of your hair, his hand caressing your lower back and ass in a gentle, soothing way.
"But I ain't gonna fuck ya. You're not my type."
What you get instead is another spanking, then another, and another, until your ass feels raw, until it's nearly numb, then Joel presses two fingers deep inside, cramming you with his thick digits. Gasping a shuddering breath, you push back on him, only for him to take them away, spreading your wetness on your backside.
"You're just like your mom.. needy as a feral cat. Can't ever get enough," he grumbles, giving you another smack before inserting his fingers again, spreading your thighs wide as he shoves them in and out, smiling when he hears your cries of pleasure, the way you squeeze around him as if to keep him there. If it was his dick in there he'd have cum already, you're so snug and wet around him.
He removes his fingers again when he feels you close to the edge and your frustrated groan brings a smile to his face.
"Please, daddy.. sir.. Joel.." Whatever he wants you to call him. "Please don't stop!"
"You're gonna have to be quiet or I'm gonna stick my whole hand in this lil' pussy, stretch it out so nothin' else will ever fit."
You're shivering, your body on edge for his touch, and the fucker knows it. And you know he'll make good on his threat. You force yourself to be quiet, only the smallest whimpers escaping your lips once his fingers slide into you again, this time adding a third finger, unable to help it when you moan, "Oh, god, daddy!"
This time he doesn't pull away, keeping his fingers in a steady thrust inside you, using his free hand to slap your ass, mixing the pleasure with the pain. He parts your thighs further, lifting your hips to smack your pussy, grinning when you jolt forward, crying out, not allowing you to close your legs when you get overstimulated, continuing to land slaps upon your sensitive flesh until you whimper another please, daddy.
He mutters something unintelligible, bringing his fingers back to your soaked cunt, your juices creating an even bigger stain on his jeans. Pumping his fingers in and out, he scratches that itch, finds that spongy tissue inside that drives every woman crazy, and he rubs against it, watching you writhe, listening to your ragged gasps and desperate pleas until you squirt, your fluid dousing his hand and his lap until you beg him to stop when you become oversensitive.
He could continue, he could give you more, go all night, but he doesn't have as much patience as he used to. Positioning himself behind your sprawled out figure on the sofa, he takes himself from his jeans and strokes his length urgently, spilling his cum on your still-quivering ass and your drenched cunt.
Satisfied, he smears his cum all over you with his dick while it's still half-hard.
"Ain't that pretty," he comments. "Now, you ain't tellin' your mama nothin', and we can come to some kind of agreement that benefits us both.. right, my good girl?"
Exhausted, empty, you nod. "Yes, daddy."
tag list 💕: @survivingandenduring @evolnoomym @mountainsandmayhem @pedroswife69 @wannab-urs @lunamothgoth @inept-the-magnificent @karaslqve
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weepinwriter · 1 year ago
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Road to Heaven is an 18+ Dystopian fic which takes inspiration from popular media like the “Shatter Me” series and “Hunger Games”. It may contain distressing content like major injury to the characters, character deaths, blood, gore, body horror, amnesia and optional sexual content. More specific warnings will be given at the beginning of each chapter.
You are inmate No. 1441, incarcerated in Tartarus, the most notorious prison on the continent. You find yourself imprisoned for a crime that you do not remember committing, leaving you in a state of uncertainty about your own identity and purpose. The first memory you have is awakening to the sensation of a gun being shoved into your mouth.
Within the grim confines of Tartarus, you have been branded as the most dangerous criminal, feared yet hated by both fellow inmates and prison authorities alike. It becomes clear to you that in order to survive and unravel the enigma of your past, escape from this formidable penitentiary is imperative. However, achieving freedom will not be an easy feat, as you must navigate treacherous encounters with some of the most malevolent criminals known to humanity. In your quest for freedom, you find yourself entangled in complex relationships with three significant individuals. Firstly, your cellmate, whose icy demeanor suggests a deep-seated disdain for your very existence. Secondly, your best friend within the prison walls, whose seemingly excessive friendliness may harbor ulterior motives. Lastly, there is the warden, whose overtly amicable nature masks a peculiar familiarity with your past. As you navigate the perilous labyrinth of Tartarus, your ultimate objective is twofold: to survive amidst the most notorious criminals and uncover the truth about your forgotten past. In a world where danger lurks at every corner, you must tread carefully, for the path to redemption and self-discovery is riddled with uncertainty and perilous choices.
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Fully customize your MC. Choose your pronouns, sexuality, appearance and more. Take control of your interactions with the characters and experience the world of Elysium City through a personalized scope.
Romance one of the 7 RO’s, and if you are charming enough, fall in love with any two of them. The four possible poly routes available are: The Cellmate and The Friend, The Warden and The Master, The Protector and The Master, The Cellmate and The Rebel
Struggle against the evil that wants you dead and uncover secrets about yourself
Accept your identity as an Esper and rediscover your powers, or completely reject them
Master your ability of Conscious Manipulation and perhaps learn a few things about yourself unexpectedly
Choose to make allies within Tartarus or antagonize them. Your choices have consequences
Lead a dying rebellion against the Hightable or join them as an equal
There are a total 7 romance options, each with their own personality and a story along with dark secrets for you to uncover
Survive
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1. The Cellmate [f/m] | Enemies to Lovers
Subject Name : Twenty
A palpable enigma surrounds the inexplicable disdain they harbor towards you, leaving you to ponder if your past misdeeds have sowed the seeds of their ire. Your questions remain unanswered, rarely do they grace you with a response, and when they do, it arrives veiled in hateful glares and a tapestry of venomous words. The origins of their animosity remain shrouded in silence, with fellow inmates mirroring their reticence. Only when they are complaining about the prison's wretched conditions and the Warden's despotic rule do they momentarily shed their icy facade, revealing hints of vulnerability and human emotion. When they do smile, albeit rarely, it is a fleeting moment of breathtaking beauty. If only you could find the courage to tell them that.
[ Number 1579 is an S rank Arcane Tendency Esper with the Cryokinesis ability. They are under Libra’s Jurisdiction, and thus only follow orders coming directly from them. ]
Other Tropes : Emotional Scars, Nobody thinks it’ll actually work, Hate Sex
2. The Warden? [m] | ???
Subject Name : Nikita
There is an uncanny familiarity surrounding him, leaving you torn between the unsettling grip of dread and the elusive allure of desire. He claims to know you personally. Apparently the two of you were close friends before The Incident. Yet, when you press for details, he skillfully redirects the conversation before your emotions can catch up. "The past is but a fleeting shadow," he says, "no need to talk about something that can't be changed. Besides, you wouldn't remember anything." Evidently your memories had been erased. The question of who hangs heavy in the air, but his response remains enigmatic, offering only a mirthless smile.
[ Nikita is the Warden of Tartarus, the Reformation Asylum in Sector 10, 8th District. He is under Scorpio's jurisdiction. ]
Other Tropes : Slowburn, Betrayal, Puppy play
3. The Friend [f/m] | Friends to Lovers
Subject Name : Victor (m.) | Vanessa (f.)
A compassionate and devoted companion, V. shines as a beacon of light in the desolate depths of this grim abyss that became your world. From the moment you opened your eyes, they extended a helping hand, guiding you through the labyrinthine complexities of Tartarus and easing your transition into this unfamiliar realm. Unfazed by the venomous whispers that tarnish your reputation, they remain steadfastly by your side, unwavering in their loyalty. Their warm smiles and whimsical wordplay serve as a balm, mending your wounded spirit after every bitter clash with Twenty. How fortunate you are to be blessed with such an illuminating presence, brightening the shadows that consume your existence.
[ Number 1339 is an A rank Catalyst Tendency Esper with the Illusion Manipulation ability. They are under Scorpio’s Jurisdiction. ]
Other Tropes : Partners in crime, First Love, Good people get good sex, Slight yandere
4. The Count/Countless [f/m] | Forbidden Romance (relationship history can be friends with benefits)
Subject Name : Emir (m.) | Evara(f.)
A remarkable visionary and an exceptional entrepreneur, E. stands as an unrivaled figure in the illustrious realm of Elysium City. Holding the distinction of being the youngest Grandmaster in history and amassing unparalleled wealth, they reign as the CEO of the renowned Quinn Industries. E. is adorned with numerous titles within the esteemed echelons of society, serving as an icon of inspiration and a beacon of hope, while simultaneously arousing envy in the hearts of many. An arrogant and proud individual, their ugliness is conveniently covered by their astonishing fortune, combined with innate brilliance, seems almost mystical, as if destined for greatness from their very birth. Within Elysium City's grand social tapestry, few possess the persuasive prowess to sway the decisions of the Hightable itself, yet E. stands tall even among this select few. As an eligible bachelor, their daily inundation of love letters and marriage proposals is a testament to their allure. And yet, amidst all this splendor, it is you who has found a place of interest in their extraordinary life.
[ E. is a part of The Senate and thus does not fall under any District's jurisdiction. ]
Other Tropes : Belated love epiphany, Billionaire, Power play, Daddy/Mommy kink
5. The Master [f] | Forbidden Romance
Subject Name : Leo
In her calculated pursuit, you find yourself ensnared. Your allure captivates her discerning gaze, for you possess what she desires most. You are the coveted object of her desires. In this strategic game, you are but a pawn, a possession within her calculated grasp. Yet, curiously she maintains a measured distance. Her reason? She eloquently articulates, “Witnessing the growth of one's possession is a fascinating phenomenon.”
[ Leo is the Master of {DATA REDACTED}. They are the Ruler of the 5th District. ]
Other Tropes : Secret Identity, Second Chance, Blood play, Begging
6. The Protector [m] | Bodyguard Romance
Subject Name : Caesar
A battle-hardened soldier, Caesar bears the scars of a lifetime spent serving the FAE and the city. With an intimacy unparalleled, he has danced with mortality on numerous occasions, making death a companion rather than an adversary. Yet, behind that facade of strength, Caesar is a fractured soul, haunted by insecurities and a self-destructive nature. His journey, filled with shattered dreams and the weight of his daughter's aspirations, has brought him to the edge of despair. The immortality he once embraced now feels like a curse, a harbinger of misfortune that has become synonymous with his presence. In his eyes, he sees himself as not a protector but a bearer of ill fate. However, the stars, in an unexpected alignment, have granted him a final purpose: to protect you. Beneath the intimidating exterior lies a gentle giant, yet one plagued by a profound sense of self-loathing. He grapples with the belief that his very existence is a catalyst for tragedy, a vortex that draws calamity toward him and those he holds dear. Intrigued by this complex guardian, you see the duality within Caesar — an attentive and understanding individual burdened by the weight of his own perceived malevolence. As you navigate through the intricate layers of his psyche, perhaps you could help him ease his suffering, even by a little.
[ Caesar is a registered S rank Endura Tendency Esper with the Regeneration ability. He comes under Leo’s jurisdiction. ]
Other Tropes : Beauty and the Beast, Single parent, Stop calling me daddy
7. The Rebel [f/m] | Enemies to Lovers
Subject Name : Gael (m.) | Gwendolyn (f.)
You betrayed them. Or perhaps it's the other way around? You do not remember. The trust you once held dear has been shattered, and now you must face the price for your misguided beliefs. Like a fool enchanted by deceit, you must bear the weight of your choices. Remember this lesson, for betrayal's toll is a heavy one to pay. Proceed with caution, lest you become ensnared in the web of your own treachery.
[ There is no known information on this individual. Extreme caution is recommended. ]
Other Tropes : Amnesia, Revenge, Redemption, Breathe play
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Links
[ DEMO ]
[ PINTEREST ]
[ THE DISTRICTS ]
[ THE HIGHTABLE ]
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All asks and reposts are welcome 😁!
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scarletcomalies · 2 months ago
Text
storia di due anime perdute
Natasha Romanoff x Fem Reader
Word count: 5,400
Warnings: Dark fic, bullying from friends group, post-death grief (both from Natasha and Reader), emotional absence from a parent, depression, self isolation, manipulation. 18+ content, Nat has a penis, blowjob.
Taglist: @nattysbabygirl @huggingkoalas @grimleaper @olicity-boo @urfav-wh0re @ihartnat @afwmaieel-1 @marvels--slut @ddreader04 @obsessedwcoffeeandwomen @traveler-at-heart @osnapitschloe @foxythefox54 @justarandomreaderxoxo
A/N: Happy Halloween, guys! I wrote this during several stoned nights with In This Moment music videos playing in the background (which ended up in Lady Gaga music videos and with me recreating the choreographies lollll).
A/N II: I tried my best effort to write as much as possible in the middle of all the ongoing college projects and the everyday hecticness. Unfortunately, I didn't manage to finish it all by today. However, my semester is almost over, therefore the wait for part II will be way shorter! :)
In the serene village of Collodi, you encountered Natasha Romanoff, a woman in search of comfort and healing after the painful loss of her wife and daughter. She was moved by your lively personality, naiveté, and tender heart, leaving within her a yearning urge to take you, mold you like one of her puppets, and help you become her real girl.
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In the enchanting region of Tuscany, Italy, hid a small village called Collodi, a dreamy corner protected by the intimidating mountains that surrounded it. This place, isolated from the hectic society, seemed to yearn fervently for the trees to consume it completely, wishing that only the memories and debris of what once was would remain in the end.
But that was not possible.
Collodi would still have been in the penumbra of oblivion if it wasn't for the pen of a blissful author to pay tribute to it through an immortal fictional story. It was as if it was destined to shine in the vast darkness of the commonplace.
Because it was not as visually captivating as Monterosso al Mare, for example, a town that was part of the five villages that, in perfect unity, formed Cinque Terre.
Monterosso al Mare did not long to be consumed and forgotten. It enjoyed its own prominence along with its neighboring towns.
From miles away, its structure could be seen standing tall with dignity on the seashore, and the palette of colors that it had was a delight for the eyesight, a canvas painted by the hand of an expert brought to life. Collodi, on the other hand, appeared as a spectrum between shades yellow and brown, and didn't stand firm, it rather seemed to be on the verge of crumbling at any given moment.
But Natasha Romanoff found beauty in Collodi.
You see, Monterosso al Mare was always displaying its vibrant colors, there being no room for exhaustion or rest, and its neighboring towns shared that quality. Totally exposed to the scrutiny of others, it was constantly adapting to the expectations of those who visited it. No matter who crossed its thresholds, no matter who might inflict harm, it must always stand firm, clinging to the reputation it had so painstakingly cultivated.
Collodi didn’t have such obligation, for it was simply Collodi. Yes, it may have had a history that was inevitably inherent, but this town was still completely detached from the demands of appearance and expectations.
Natasha Romanoff found beauty in Collodi, because having been Monterosso Al Mare, cost her the life of her wife and daughter.
And in Collodi, she found you.
“What a boring town,” exclaimed Kate, one of the two people who were once considered your friends.
“No way, the House of Butterflies was amazing,” you countered, as a smile instinctively plastered on your face as you recalled the memory of the previous day.
You had seen species of butterflies that rarely appeared in everyday life, and the best part, you had the opportunity to befriend some animals! When you offered them food, they would offer you their trust and appreciation, confirming once again that pattern so rooted in your being.
The concept of love you had was limited to the material, to what could be offered in that aspect. Both Kate and your other friend, Sarah, seemed to have sensed that nature in you, and decided to take full advantage of it, knowing that your concept of normality made you vulnerable to their intentions.
“Yes, and that was it,” Sarah intervened, and the boredom so palpable in her voice made your smile fade at once. True, you had only walked around town and gone shopping, but hadn't the previous day been enough? Was it necessary to do something extraordinary every day?
It did sting a little, given how thrilled you still were about the previous day’s activity, but from what you were hearing, your friends no longer shared that enthusiasm. Nor did they settle for at least one single calm day.
"Get us some of that good gelato, at least," Kate spoke up, after noticing your silence.
You nodded obediently, "Sure thing. Be right back."
You knew the bitter taste of disappointment as if it were your old arch enemy.
It was a feeling that has been with you since childhood, specifically the day your mother's life was snatched away by a terminal illness, robbing you of the joy that should have characterized any child's early years.
As life went on without that important figure by your side, you longed for the warmth and comfort of your father. However, instead, he taught you a raw truth: absence in life was more painful than the absence due to death itself, for the soul leaves without leaving the physical body.
You dreamed of his protective embrace, of his deep voice telling you bedtime stories, of feeling his loving hands tuck you into bed each night. But your father was not your mother, nor was he the father you used to know.
This new man, consumed with his work as a way of coping with grief, became obsessed with the expansion of his business. In his mind, securing a prosperous financial future for you was the best way to demonstrate his love and care, for if only his then small business had had the resources to cover the costs of treating the illness, your mother would still be with you.
So, instead of the human safety you needed so badly, you received an insane number of expensive gifts and unnecessary luxuries. Every one of them being his way of saying "I love you, I'm not going to fail you".
Oh, but he failed you. Every time he chose his job over you. Every time he missed your birthday, every promise he broke. With the expensive gifts and lavish vacations, he offered as compensation, you learned that affection was shown through material goods, and not necessarily through presence and emotional connection. It became your only way to express and receive affection, because it was all you had known your whole life.
Sarah and Kate were quick to notice the situation. At first, they just wanted to compliment you on your fancy bag and strike up a conversation with you to gain your trust, hoping that, when the time came, they would know you well enough to borrow it for a party or event where they could show it off as their own. However, after only a week, when you gave them each a bag just like yours as a thank you for sitting down with you for lunch and chatting, they realized that it was in their best interest to keep pretending to like you, as it would benefit them.
That's how they even ended up in Italy without spending a single penny in the first place.
It was a birthday trip that your father financed, once again rewarding the fact that he had forgotten about it. He also agreed to let you invite your two “best friends” in the hope that you would forgive him.
And so, as you returned with three ice creams in hand, you felt like you carried with you the key to an elixir to keep harmony among your friends. But the ground, capricious and uneven, laughed at you, with a prominent stone lurking to trip you up. In your haste to please, you did not see it coming.
Your body collapsed, crushing the ice cream cones, and the cold, sticky mess spread all over your dress. To top it all off, the rough cobblestone street also scraped your delicate arms and hands.
You winced in pain as you pushed yourself up, noticing the red marks and small cuts that now adorned your once-flawless skin.
Embarrassed and hurt, you looked up, expecting to see concern on your friends' faces. Instead, you were met with sneers and poorly concealed laughter.
"Oh my God, (Y/N)," Sarah scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain.
Kate joined in, her eyes showing a cruel amusement, "Seriously? We asked for gelato, not a circus act."
Your cheeks burned with shame as you struggled to your feet, your now wet and cold dress clinging uncomfortably to your body.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled, fighting back tears. "I'll go get some new ones..."
"Don't bother," Kate snapped, rolling her eyes. "You'll probably just drop those too. Jesus! And now we must be seen with you looking like that!"
You felt small, insignificant, and utterly alone as your so-called friends tore into you with those hurtful remarks. The beautiful day in Collodi, which had held so much promise, now felt tainted and ugly.
Was this what true friendship was supposed to feel like? Was this the essence of the connection?
Tears, hot and stinging like acid rain, began to stream down your cheeks at the thought of it all.
"Oh, great. Now she's crying,” Kate's exasperated sigh made itself present.
"All right, come on," Sarah's voice dripped with annoyance. "You need to pull yourself together. This is beyond embarrassing."
"Look, if you can't stop whining like a baby, at least walk a couple of meters behind us," Kate ordered you. “We don’t want anyone thinking we’re with… you.”
You.
That one-syllable word spoken so contemptuously and coldly, as if you were enough to make any accompanying insult seem redundant.
And you, meekly nodding, prepared to follow their cruel order.
But as you took a step to follow behind them, a gentle but firm hand grabbed your arm, stopping your movement.
Startled, you looked up to find yourself confronted by a striking woman with flame-red hair and piercing green eyes.
There was something in her gaze that invited you to resist, to question, to not let yourself be carried away by the current of contempt that surrounded you.
And when she spoke, your ears were delighted by her smooth-as-honey voice.
“Do not follow them, solnyshko,” she said, dropping the unfamiliar word with a slight accent. “They are not worth your tears or your time.”
For the very first time, there was someone willing to protect you, to remind you of your worth in a world that seemed to want to erase it.
Your subconscious, conditioned by years of neglect, sounded alarms at this strange kindness. It screamed insidiously, urging you to retreat to the cold yet familiar comfort of abandonment and life-draining complacency.
That made you gently pull your arm from Natasha's grasp, your eyes downcast in embarrassment.
"No, you don't understand," your voice trembled like a leaf in autumn's chill. "It was my fault."
Natasha's eyes flickered with sudden comprehension. That sentence alone allowed her to decipher you completely.
The vulnerability you exuded, the eagerness to please despite mistreatment, it all spoke to something deep within her. It would be a crime to let you go, knowing you were perfect material for satisfying her needs.
She glanced briefly at the retreating silhouettes of the college girls you were with, a flicker of indignation crossing her features. They were merciless, cruel in their treatment of you. Natasha knew she was different. She wasn't going to make you suffer like them, because she was far from mean.
Instead, she would shower you with the warmth of genuine care, something you had clearly been deprived of for so long. In time, she would become as essential to you as the air you breathed. You would need her, finding it impossible to abandon her. And in return, she would have someone who needed her, someone she could protect and nurture, someone she could mold to her liking to fill that void that had been devouring her insides like a ravenous parasite.
"Your fault that this town's ground is made of stone? Your fault that it's dark already?” She asked gently. Instead of offering empty reassurances, she aimed to give you some autonomy, allowing you to discover the truth for yourself.
Her smile became unavoidable as she noticed your wide, innocent eyes intently analyzing her questioning.
"Could you have predicted every uneven surface? Every shadow?" She continued, her tone encouraging reflection rather than accusation. "And these friends of yours," Natasha pressed on, scoffing with contempt so palpable it made you flinch. She made your terrifying friends seem insignificant in the face of her formidable presence. “They have never stumbled? Are they always perfectly graceful?"
This question hit home. You had a fair share of memories of Kate tripping over her own feet at parties and Sarah passing out in some stranger’s backyard. You had never blamed them for their clumsiness. So why were you holding yourself to an impossible standard not even they could meet?
How silly of you, taking blame for something so clearly beyond your control.
A small, rueful smile became clear as you realized the absurdity of your self-accusation.
"You see, dear?" Natasha chuckled at your adorable smile. She felt her cock reacting as well through a painfully, intense throbbing. Every fiber of her being screamed for release, so overwhelming it threatened to consume her entirely, to break through her carefully constructed walls. But not yet, she reminded herself, her fists clenching with the effort of restraint. "Now, let's forget about them. Let's get you cleaned up, I don't live far from here."
Her invitation, or rather, command, caught you off guard, "But I don't know you," you gently declined. She didn’t budge, for she was more than sure that it would be a piece of cake to have you beneath her roof in the blink of an eye.
"Oh, right, my name is Natalia Romanova,” she introduced herself. “And your name is…?”
Unbeknownst to you, she had long ago stopped using the name Natasha Romanoff. It was an alias she'd adopted during her time as an Avenger back in the United States, but she had renounced that life, therefore, she no longer needed that identity. As for "Black Widow", the mere mention of it now filled her with loathing.
“Nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N),” you replied, trying to sound polite even after your small rejection.
Noticing your slight discomfort, Natasha decided to lighten up the tension that was beginning to build up, going ahead to reach into her pocket and show you a small, perfectly carved wooden figurine.
It was a cat! You adored cats.
"This is Figaro," Natasha introduced you to her little piece of wood, a fond smile adorning her lips. "He's my dear cat. Well, a miniature version of him."
Your eyes were drawn to the marvelous craftsmanship of the figurine. "Wow," you gasped, and your curious fingers itched to touch it, but you held back. "Did you do this?"
"I did,” she confirmed with pride. This woodworking hobby, alongside her tuxedo cat and golden fish, seemed to be the sole source of joy in her miserable existence. “I do this for a living. My house is filled with pieces like this.”
"That's amazing," you replied, genuinely impressed. "I bet they're all as stunning as this one," you remarked, gesturing to the figure in her hand.
Her smile expanded, almost impossibly so. It had been ages since she smiled like this, and perhaps it was twisted of her that the reason was the anticipation of taking you and exploiting you fully.
"Not as stunning as real-life Figaro," she countered, her eyes softening with affection. "Oh, just imagine the softest cloud you've ever seen, now picture it in black and white colors. That's Figaro."
The way Natasha described him with such genuine warmth and affection made your heart squeeze in tenderness, and your defenses were slowly crumbling, just like she predicted. After all, you reasoned, how could someone who talked so lovingly about their cat possibly be dangerous?
"Well,” she concluded, with a small sigh that feigned disappointment. "If you accepted my invitation, you could see him in person. But I understand. It's dangerous to go to a stranger's home. That’s wise of you."
The thought of letting down such a kind-hearted woman was intolerable. How could you possibly walk away after she had been so sweet and kind to you? You finally met someone who treated you with respect, and this was your response? How ungrateful!
"You know, actually," you finally spoke, so quickly they successfully interrupted your recurring thoughts. "I think I'd like to meet Figaro now, if that's okay."
Natasha's face lit up, her emerald eyes sparkling with an intense delight. Everything turned out exactly as she wanted, making her feel like an expert puppeteer effortlessly manipulating the strings of her most treasured marionette.
"Of course it's okay, solnyshko," she replied cheerfully. Anyone with an ounce of reasoning would wonder why she seemed so eager to bring a stranger girl home, but not you. Certainly not you. "You won't regret it, I assure you."
In the small village chambers, lanterns flickered softly, casting shadows that danced and twisted. Initially, these shadows appeared as large, intimidating figures, but upon closer inspection, they transformed into friendly faces with wide smiles. Yet, when their eyes met Natasha, they seldom did not recognize her.
"Natty! Buona notte, cara mia!" They always exclaimed, their voices brimming with enthusiasm and eyes aglow. A dull ache settled in your chest. It seemed wrong to feel that twinge of envy, yet you couldn't recall the last time anyone appeared that delighted to see you, and you couldn't help but long for it to be you to be greeted that way.
Unlike your so-called friends who always insisted on walking ahead, leaving you trailing behind like an afterthought, Natasha walked alongside you. Her emerald eyes occasionally glanced your way, a gentle smile gracing her lips.
The ice cream stain on your dress was still visible, your eyes, though no longer wet with tears, remained red and puffy. Yet, Natasha radiated an intrinsic pride in having you by her side, as if your presence was something to be cherished rather than hidden away.
“Well, here we are,” Natasha exhaled a deep sigh of relief as she turned the key and pushed open the door to her home, inviting you to step inside. The comforting embrace of warmth following the biting chill was a welcome relief.
Unlike most homes, there was no central overhead light. Instead, small lanterns perfectly scattered throughout the space illuminated it cozily.
The entire first level served as Natasha's workplace, living room, dining room, and kitchen, all in one. Though there were no walls dividing these areas, the transitions were clear.
To your left, Natasha's creations dominated the entire corner, making it a challenge to navigate without stepping on something. Positioned by the window was a long table with a variety of well-used tools, including hammers, a saw, screwdrivers, pliers, and wrenches.
On the opposite side, to your right, there was a kitchen, equipped with just a fridge, a sink, and vintage stove, alongside a small wooden table that could seat two people maximum, and you wondered if Natasha had crafted it herself. The middle area displayed a fireplace with a couch positioned in front of it, and on a side table, there was a round fishbowl containing a goldfish, which immediately caught your attention.
"Please, excuse the mess," Natasha remarked with a hint of guilt. She never cleaned her home more than necessary because she never expected visitors, as she preferred to personally deliver everything to those who requested her work, from the smallest souvenir to the most unbearably heavy piece of furniture. You might never have realized it, but you were the first person to set foot in her home by her own will and not because people intrusively knocked on her door to request commissions or to drop off gifts.
"No, no, it's great," you replied sincerely, having already scanned every corner of the place. Her old superhero friends might think this wasn't Natasha at all, but to you, who had only met this side of her, it definitely screamed Natalia everywhere, and all those residents of Collodi could say the same.
"Please, do take a seat!" She exclaimed so energetically that her voice could have echoed throughout the entire neighborhood. Without a moment's hesitation, you went to sit by the fireplace, the gentle flames providing you with so much warmth that you almost forgot the ice cream on your dress. "Stay here, I'll find you some clothes," she added, stepping away without taking her eyes off you, with fear that you might vanish at any moment.
While awaiting the return of the red-haired woman, you swiftly took out your phone to send a message to your friends, letting them know that you were fine and that you would get back soon. In your noble heart, you believed that they might worry about you, even if they were angry at you. However, the way they abandoned you with a stranger and walked away without looking behind unequivocally proved otherwise.
"See if this fits you," the same raspy, indistinct voice made you look up, and you gasped in surprise when you noticed that, in the arm not holding the change of clothes, she was carrying the famous cat Figaro she had told you about. His pupils were dilated due to the dim light, yet you could still notice a faint yellow ring encircling those dark orbs. He stayed calm, allowing his owner to carry him without squirming or resisting.
"Oh, he's gorgeous!" You exclaimed, just a few seconds were enough for this feline to capture your heart.
She chuckled softly, placing the little one on the couch beside you, "Clean clothes and a kitty, just as we agreed."
As if on cue, Figaro suddenly jumped from the couch, his black and white fur almost a comedic, straight-out-of-cartoon blur as he darted across the room and disappeared behind a stack of wooden carvings.
"I should have mentioned, Figaro doesn't like strangers."
You couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, for you had hoped to pet the furry cat, “Oh, that’s okay.”
Noticing your expression, Natasha chuckled, "But don't worry, once you offer him some food, he'll forget all about being shy and will come running back to you,” she reassured you, handing you the neatly folded garments.
"Thank you very much, where can I change?" You inquired, accepting the clothes that seemed extremely comfortable even without considering the chill and sticky stain of your dress.
"You can change here. I'll go upstairs to give you privacy. Just let me know when you're ready," she replied with such sincerity that it was impossible not to believe her.
When she left you alone, she ascended the stairs as she usually did, and when she reached the last step, with great care, she lay down on the floor, peering her head to see you. Never had she been so grateful for the darkness of her abode, for without it, you would have seen her head lurking at the top of the stairs.
Oh, blessed be the moment you chose to wear that dress, for it granted her the exquisite opportunity to admire your entire form, your most desirable parts covered by a black lace lingerie ensemble.
Her hand slowly traveled down to the burning ache that formed between her legs, which pulsed intensely through her already hard length. She tried to soothe the discomfort with a gentle squeeze, however, said action condemned her to complete what she had begun, lest she risk losing her sanity.
Therefore, with her eyes shut tight, she quietly made her way to the bathroom, promising herself to stay silent for just a moment to quell her longing.
She inhaled deeply and rested her hands against the sink. The mirror showed her flushed face, nostrils flaring from her labored breathing, and the familiar vein protruding on her forehead.
She exhaled through her mouth and lowered the zipper of her pants, revealing the fabric of her boxers. Unsurprisingly, there was a slightly darker wet patch of her pre-cum, showing just how much relief her poor member was desperately looking for. Subsequently, she slid her hand under the undergarment, and…
“I’m ready!” She heard your voice from downstairs.
“Yebany v rot,” she cursed between gritted teeth.
She hesitated, debating between coming down to join you, or staying there to prioritize her own needs. Yet, just picturing your eager little face and probably your hungry tummy prompted her to pull up her pants again. With another deep breath, she composed herself as best as she could to return to you.
Seeing you in that attire shattered the fragile composure she had managed to gather, causing her breath to hitch and a tight knot to form in her throat, which she clumsily attempted to swallow down.
You looked so perfect, wearing her clothes, slightly oversized over your frame in a way that was both endearing and domestic, even. Not to mention the fact that you would carry her scent for the rest of the night.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, noticing how her already tense expression worsened the moment her eyes landed on you. You assumed that perhaps the way those clothes fit you wasn't quite right. Maybe she expected them to be more form-fitting, which would mean looking for other clothes, and maybe she was already too tired to deal with that hassle.
"Nothing, it's just that… I'm feeling kind of tense, it's obviously not your fault," she tried to explain. It would be a shame to lie to you, especially when your naive mind already sensed the shift. "Hungry?" she asked, hoping to change the subject to ease your worries and distract herself.
"No, I already ate," you stated with a firmness that would have surprised anyone who had interacted with you, including her. "What's wrong?" you demanded.
Natasha, taken aback, but determined, admitted, "You look beautiful.”
She wasn't by any means shy. She could have taken you right there, knowing you were too weak to defend yourself and would have let her. Nevertheless, she didn't want that. She wasn't interested in being just another opportunist who crossed your path to take what she needed and leave. She wanted to make you so dependent on her that you would desire it in your heart to give it to her.
You furrowed your brow, confusion evident on your face. "Don’t try to distract me," you replied, shaking your head slightly.
With a deep breath, Natasha stepped closer. "Here," she murmured, gently taking your hand, guiding it to the front of her pants.
Your eyes widened in shock as you felt the unmistakable hardness there, provoking you to quickly pull your hand away, your cheeks matching the same deep shade of red as hers.
"I'm so sorry," Natasha apologized, taking a step back. "I shouldn't have... It's just... This is the problem. You're so beautiful, and my body reacted."
You stood there, frozen for a moment, your mind racing. You couldn’t deny, her nurturing and caring nature was irresistibly appealing to you. In some sense, she gave you the hope of reclaiming control and rewriting the story of abandonment that etched deeply into your soul.
"I... I think you're beautiful too," you spoke. "And after everything you've done for me tonight, the least I can do is... help you."
Natasha's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and concern crossing her features. "No, solnyshko. That's not necessary. I shouldn't have put you in this position."
But you took a tentative step forward, your heart pounding but your mind already made up. "I want to," you insisted softly. "Please, I want this."
"No, you don’t," she countered, the word tasting strange on her tongue. The offer you made was tempting, almost unbearably so, but she refused to be just another person you felt indebted to.
“I do,” you reiterated.
And you genuinely did.
Although you considered it strange that someone would reject your attempts to reciprocate those acts of kindness, it could be said that it was the first time it didn't feel like an obligation, but rather an opportunity to finally experience what it’s like to have such a physical connection with someone, let alone someone as attractive as her.
Material possessions were the only things you had relied on so far, so this could even be something unique between her and you.
"I have never done it before, so this is a win-win situation," you continued, trying to persuade her. "I help you, and you teach me."
She gazed into your eyes, discovering a profound yearning. She knew you meant every word, and it made her wonder, if a mere gesture of kindness could inspire such actions in you, to what extent would your commitment go if you became dependent on her?
"Alright," she agreed. "Let’s take it slow, and if you ever want to stop, just say the word."
Natasha reclined gracefully on the couch, parting her legs as an implicit invitation that seemed to compel you to approach her, all without the slightest motion or gesture from her part.
You chose to comply, kneeling between her legs. Despite her evident efforts to assert her dominance, you felt empowered by the mere knowledge that you could elicit such reactions from her, to the point where she was unable to conceal her distress, leaving her with no choice but to confess her attraction to you.
"You’re taking your time," she murmured, her voice evidencing a palpable sense of anticipation.
As you undid her button and unzipped her pants, you could feel the hardness of her member under the touch of your wrists, even when there were two layers of cloth covering it.
And all this for you.
Her cock sprang free and stood at attention after you pulled down the hem of her boxers and pants to below her balls. She remained motionless, not taking her green eyes from yours as you contemplated her arousal.
You knew it was big, and you knew it was agonizingly hard, but the reality overcame any assumptions when you were faced with easily ten inches in length, adorned by multiple prominent veins.
"Please, touch it," she pleaded, her voice abandoning any semblance of composure. Pride, that accursed pride, was meaningless when her body irrefutably ached for you.
Her tip was a deep pink, dripping with droplets of pre-cum. Taking it gently, wrapping your fingers around it, you picked up the droplets with your thumb and spread them around it, making it take on a peculiar sheen.
“Fuck,” she moaned, closing her eyes, and throwing her head back.
That alone gave you the confidence you needed to stroke her cock in up and down movements, successfully making her tremble under your touch.
Her full lips were slightly parted, and her breath came in short, sharp gasps or high-pitched whimpers. It was truly a welcome sight, witnessing someone entrust you with their body, openly displaying such vulnerability before you.
She extended her hand, firmly grasping your wrist, and guided your hand to the base of her erection. Simultaneously, her other hand gently rested on the back of your neck, offering encouragement rather than forcing you.
You wrapped your mouth around her already wet tip, moaning as you savored the warmth of the pre-cum that seemed to keep making itself present. You began to suckle her glans gently, letting your tongue take the place from time to time to tease her hole.
Her hand clutched at your hair, guiding your head as you began to bob up and down on her cock. Her breathing became shallower as you quickly found your rhythm, delighting in the view of half of her dick disappearing into your warm mouth and re-emerging glistening with your saliva and her fluids.
“Goddamn it," she muttered under her breath, her insatiable nature getting the better of her, compelling her to lift her hips upward. It was the way your throat contracted into a gag that made her involuntarily ejaculate her seed, the hot liquid filling your mouth.
“Fuuuck!” She cum in your mouth in one, two, three spurts. It was obvious by how her face contracted in pleasure that she had not anticipated that her cock had taken on a mind of its own, stripping her of any authority over it.
You endeavored to swallow as much as your astonishment and inexperience allowed, yet a gentle cough escaped you, causing a few drops to delicately trickle down your chin.
"Well done, malyshka," were the first words that escaped her lips once her breathing steadied.
You appeared utterly perfect, as you looked up at her with those doe eyes, with the sheen of her release enhancing the fullness and glossiness of your lips. She vowed never to entertain the thought of allowing you out of her sight.
You sealed your fate the moment your paths crossed, but you cemented your doom in that very instant.
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evolnoomym · 14 days ago
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Steal Your Girl 🥃
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Summary: Joel shows you good time after some dude makes you feel very disappointed.
Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!
Word count: 1.4 K
Authors note: I got kinda stood up so I gained inspiration for this 🫠👌🏻
Warnings: no y/n, F!OC, Moon as always, alcohol mention, sex, creammmmmm pie, Joel being a slight sleaze, age gap (nothing specific is mentioned but I imagine it to be biggggg….of course legal), no beta read we die like real Moon Sluts, might include messes up grammar because I’m dumb
If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻
Shoutout to @saradika-graphics for the divider 🤎
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly🫶🏻
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In the dimly back-room skin slapping on skin, deep groans and sweet little yelps were all that could be heard.
There’s you bend over, your chest sliding back and forth on a desk placed in the corner with him at your backside shoving his cock deeply into your cunt. His big rough hands are touching and squeezing your butt, lower back, waist and shoulders. Basically anything that he could reach, he touched.
But how did you two get here?
Well, you were already seated at the bar on one of those stereotypical red leather stools when he came into the “Lucky’s” it was after all Joel’s go-to bar.
From the first moment he laid his eyes upon you, till now, he couldn’t stop himself from unashamedly staring. He kept thinking to himself “Why is a beautiful woman like you, alone on a Saturday night?” judging by the way you kept looking around, tapping on your phone and the tensed smile he knew you were probably waiting for a date to arrive. And they seemed to be a no show. He could see the disappointment clearly written in your face and posture. Yeah, a gorgeous thing like you should be treated better. What a man would Joel be if he doesn’t put a smile back onto that beautiful face?
So he approaches.
You on the other hand hadn’t noticed him at all, too focused on stressing about stupid Christopher. Who has seemingly forgotten about the date he!!! sat up.
Oddly you didn’t feel super sad, no, more disappointed that no matter what you do they seem to be absolute idiots. All acting like insufferable little boys.
You were about to order yourself a very strong strawberry margarita to forget about that dumbass when someone sat down next to you.
You glanced over just passingly, but after processing the fact that it’s a super attractive man you couldn’t help but give him a second glance. That one was a bit longer, you let your eyes drag from his features down his body, he wore a light sweater and brown slacks.
His hair slicked back, mustache and slight beard making him appear straight out of 90s porn. One of his eyebrows rose in question.
„Hello Sweetheart, what’s a gal like yourself doin here all alone, huh?“ oh his low husky voice travels straight to your lower stomach making you squeeze your thighs together.
You must look all dumbfounded, blinking at him without a thought behind your eyes.
Somehow you are able to shake yourself out of this stupor, muster up all possible confidence and answer him.
„About to enjoy her long awaited drink, but then you sat down.“ you sigh in fake annoyance.
„Ahh, my apologies baby,“ he murmurs while signaling to the bartender, „it’s on me, your choice.“ and with that he winks.
You feel kinda breathless by this hot stranger and his clear flirting. A man like that, all mature…who could literally have anyone but wants you. Yeah that is unexpected.
„A str..strawberry margarita, please“
The bartender nods, needing no more words luckily.
You turn to him „Thank you…“ now you raise your brow and he understands „Joel,“ he replies.
„Well thank you Joel, you didn’t have to,“ you feel warmth creeping up your cheeks.
„Nahh, no need to thank me. I jus wanted to get rid of the sad look on your face,“ when you look up at that he carries a knowing smile.
„What do you mean?“ as you tilt your head in question.
„From my guess you had a date planned but he didn’t show up? Otherwise ya wouldn’t be sitting here for so long.“
„Wait…did you watch me?“ There's no fear in your voice, just plain curiosity.
„Hmm, what if I did,“ he leans in until you feel his lips at your ear „would ya run little girl, huh?“ he whispers so softly that you close your eyes in pleasure.
A shudder goes up your spine and that warmth between your thighs grows.
You managed to push out a small „no“ in between your labored breaths. His close proximity makes you all dizzy.
All the background noises were blended out at this point, not even the drink being placed in front of you could get your attention and it got worse.
He slid his hand over the top of your thigh and in between them awfully close to where you needed him most „My name 's Joel, what’s yours baby?“
He pulled his head back, holding your chin with his hand.
„Moon,“ you whimper as his thumb strokes your chin.
„Aw, what a sweet name, for such a pretty girl“ and another wink from him that sends a new wave of arousal through your core.
„Hm, should I show ya what pretty sluts like you deserve?“ his condescending lilt shouldn’t turn you on.
Once you nod, giving him the cue, he tugs you off the chair and into a nearby hallway. He pushes open a door to the left, a room full of shelves with a tiny desk in the corner.
That’s how you got here.
Before he positions you to his liking he gives you a chaste kiss while walking you back towards the desk. He slips down your tights, his nimble fingers quickly doing the same with your thong and then your spun facing away from him. He pushes a hand between your shoulder blades, your cheek smushes against the table.
„Ya gonna let me fuck your pussy ain’t you girl?“ he hissed in your ear.
When you didn’t reply fast enough, you yelped at his massive hand swiftly coming down on your cheek.
„Ughh, y..yes, yes fuck me Sir, please“ you wanted him inside so badly, he’d be perfect to fill the void.
„That’s a good girl, so polite“ now he was gently stroking over where he previously inflicted pain.
You could hear him unbuckling his belt and then you heard him spit, the wet squelching noises confirming that he was preparing his cock for you.
You were excited, so you wiggled and pushed back. Feeling his wet length barely touching your pussy was making you wetter and wetter.
„Baby she’s drooling all over me,“ his deep chuckle quickly became your favorite sound „yeah I’m gonna give her what she deserves.“ with that he started sliding his cock along your pussy.
„Pleaseeee,“ you moan.
„Good girl,“ he whispered before pushing in with one hard thrust.
„Ughh, f-fuck Jo-Joel“ the sudden fullness was so overwhelming, he was the biggest you had ever encountered. It took a moment to get used to him before you nodded, giving him a signal to go on.
For a second you thought he might go easy on you since he slowly pulled almost completely out, but no, he started pounding into your cunt at a speed you didn’t expect from a guy his age.
„Heyyy darlin,“ he pulled you up by your shoulder „why don’t ya get out that phone, hm?“
You pulled it out of your purse and looked back at him. He was focused on the spot where the two of you were connected, watching himself slide in and out.
His eyes met yours „Open that asshole‘s contact,“ you fulfilled his instructions „delete that, okay?“ you didn’t even hesitate.
„Now hand it to me,“ again you complied with his order.
When he handed it back to you, his contact info was shown, he put his number in.
„Ya don’t need that dumbass when ya got me baby,“ he husked in your ear before bending your front down again.
After that he didn’t need a lot longer before coming inside you.
You would surely wake up tomorrow with bruised hips from being pushed against the table edge with so much force. Wood hitting a wall was a companion to the wet squelching. His strokes got more erratic, he was close.
„Baby, where ya want me?“
„Inside Joel, please,“
Your needy voice pushed him over the edge.
As his cock pumped you full his thumb came around to rub at your pulsing and waiting clit.
„Nghh, I’m gonna come,“ you arch your back „Joel i’m coming.!!“ you yell out.
„Ahhhhh yes, baby, take that gift and don’t waste a goddamn drop,“ he groans as he pulls out and you quickly, with shaking legs, you put your thong back on. He gently helps you do the same with your tights.
„Did a good job Moon,“ he kisses you slowly now, basking in the post sex haze.
As you stand upright you could feel his warm spend leak out. It was the best feeling ever.
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©️ evolnoomym 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!
T: @sunshineispunk @joelmillerisapunk @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @toxicanonymity @littlemisspascal @thundermartini @xdaddysprincessxx @sanarsi @mountainsandmayhem @mrsmando @ace-turned-confused @fruityreads
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flxrartsstuff · 2 months ago
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Addicted to you
GojoxFemReader! 18+
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authors note: ahhh the inspiration some fanarts are giving me is insane! Found another one, this time with Gojo. Yep, first time writing about him. Something simple. He’s laying in your bed and doesn’t want to get up. Too tired to do anything but that’s no excuse for you.
cw: Gojo being clingy, smut, cowgirl position, dry humping, riding, calling Reader princess, i love the view of the Fanart down below, nipple play, unprotected sex, cock warming
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Fanart by: @hunnismokah (omg i love this so much, Hope it’s okay that i used it for this Banner!)
You wanted to close the curtains as the day was slowly going to end, the last sunrays hitting the room and tickling the broad figure that was laying in your shared bed. Now it was nothing but shared. He made himself comfortable as if owning the bed for himself alone, stretching one leg out, crossing one arm behind his head, muffling any sounds and words you couldn’t understand. Only wearing some black shorts and a white muscle shirt which was moved far up so you could see his well trained and perfectly abs. Even his shorts revealed so much of his shaped legs and you couldn’t resist to bite your lip by this harmless sight you got. But before you could close the curtains, his mumbling got louder, making you stop in the track.
»C‘mere.«
»What?« you asked, your brows furrowed in confusion, also in amusement. Sounding like a little child that didn’t want to wake up or going to bed too early. He stayed lying like this, didn’t move but only repeated his words. So you left the windows open and went over to the bed, sitting on the edge. Your eyes wandered over his figure, you didn’t hold back and you knew, even through his blindfold, he could see it all. A sly grin appeared on his glossy lips as he dragged his muscle shirt much higher, to reveal more of his upper body.
»Idiot.« you chuckled because of his playful demeanor and wanted to get up again, as he suddenly grabbed your wrist, pulling you back. You let out a surprised loud, falling back against his chest.
»You’re not going anywhere. Just stay with me.«
You opened your mouth to protest, saying you wanted to prepare for bed as well, but you did him this favor and remained still like that for a while. It wasn’t very comfy, half lying half sitting like that but you could feel his steady heartbeat on your back which was the best night melody to sleep with.
»I am so tired. So, sooo tired.« the white haired man cried out, pouting like a puppy.
»Then sleep already.« you suggested grinning, which brought another pouting from him. You gasped surprised as he pressed you harder against him and you felt something poking your side.
»You know I can’t sleep now.« his whisper tickled your skin and ear, which caused goosebumps all over your body. Your breath quickend immediately and the temptation was to hard to resist. Especially when he behaved like a little lost koala who couldn’t let go off you.
»Mhm, let me help you then.« you chuckled and turned around to face him. He already wanted to drag down his blindfold but you stopped him, placed a hand on his face. Before saying anything you took the next steps already and moved your body right on top of him to straddle him. Sitting right on his groin made him letting out a nasty little gasp.
»I like that kind of help, princess.« he said cockily, already grabbing your hips with his big hands as if making clear where you belonged to. Everything you wanted to do before, was totally forgotten now especially when he touched you liked this. And while he was tired lying under you, why not using this opportunity? Having the strongest to rile up like that, made your heart jump with anticipation.
»And I like that view. Got used to it.« the tease slipped out of your mouth and you couldn’t help but giggle. His lips separated to say something, but got immediately cut off the moment you slowly started to move your hips on him. A low growl escaped him, nothing to do now with his childish behavior seconds ago. Your pussy fluttered already, even though you just started your work on him. But the contact even through your clothes was electrifying, teasing you as much as him. And with every slow stroke, he became harder under you. His hands grabbing your more tight, squeezing your legs and thighs. It was your plan to take him right now and he would let you with pleasure. Who was he anyway to deny any of your brilliant plans? Especially when they included to have sex with you?
You rolled your hips smoothly and slowly along his groin, the bulge becoming much bigger now, that it teased your clit delightfully. You brought some good self control to not grind yourself on him too fast. You just wanted to enjoy the whole thing before ending too fast. His hands left a hot trail wherever they touched you, playing with the hem of your shirt to signalizing you to take it off already. Of course wearing no bra, he got the full sight to see of your wonderful, well formed breasts. Still too far away for him to grab, you leaned down to him. While you kissed him on his lips, his hands immediately went up to your tits, squeezing them as a thirsty that needed water. Playing with that sensitive nubs of yours which made you moan right into his mouth. It became hotter than you expected, your hips taking pace and the wetness dripping right on your panties. He knew that, felt the warmth between your thighs already. What would he give now to check; only a glimpse on that dampened panties of yours? Inhaling the scent and getting drunk of it?
You cupped his face, looked at his blindfold and still in his eyes. For someone who covered his eyes, it felt still too intense. You felt exposed in front of him, totally. His skin was soft, his lips naturally shiny and glossy, inviting to just kiss him without break. You didn’t even realized that you paused, just to admire his face. The white haired one chuckled amused.
»What? Too stunned by my face?«
»You could say that,« you just answered, already grabbing the blindfold and taking it off slowly. He blinked a few times, white strands of his hair falling over his eyes as his blue orbs were finally free and brightened. Two deep oceans that dragged you in, almost like a curse. You wanted to sink deeper into the waves, discovering him with all your heart. Under them you saw slightly darker shadows, your fingers brushed gently over them. The last sun rays which hit the room, reflected in his eyes, let them appear much brighter and sparkly. He truly was beautiful.
»Kiss me, princess.« he whispered after a while, seemingly lost in your gaze as well. Your lips hovered right above his the whole time and your breath crashed onto them. Within a second you claimed his lips as yours again. Your tongue eagerly founds its way along his lips, till he opened them to let you enter. Slowly your hips started to move again, while you made out so desperately hungry for each other that you almost forgot to breathe. He whimpered under you, air rushing through his nose and no matter what, he would never interrupt you to break this kiss. So it was you, only to lean down and drag his shorts down from his hips. He watched you with lust covered eyes, awaiting the moment you would finally free his cock. The bulge unmistakably big, made your pussy throb in anticipation. You wanted nothing more than to finally let it sink deep inside your walls. Dragging down his pants his long erection jumped out, hitting his lower abdomen and leaving a little hint of precum on his skin.
One of his large hands brushed over your cheek, moving a few strands of your hair aside to cup them behind your ear. »What you’re waiting for, princess? Try your best.«
Even though he seemed tired as hell minutes ago, it was interesting to see this kind of challenge in his eyes now. All tiredness like blown away, Gojo leaned back and grabbed after your hip to direct you on his length. After you freed yourself from your shorts and panties as well of course. A short glance went over to your panties as you threw them away and he noted that they were truly dampened and wet. First you only sat on it, without letting him enter that easily. But even the contact of your wet pussy right on his cock made him whimper in delight. You were perfectly warm and already dripping with your sweet juices that he would have easily access to slide deep inside your hole. But would you let him now? Of course not, you moved your hips again in slow motions along his shaft and this time no other clothes were disturbing you two. It sounded like heaven to hear him whimpering and groaning under you. It was a sight you rarely got to see especially from one who claimed to be the strongest of all. He stared like hypnotized at your hips and the sweet flesh of yours that rubbed along his erection with ease. Your mouth let out the sweets moans and you gasped everytime when your clit met with the head of his dick. Getting sensitive he felt, that your movements became faster and you naughty little thing wanted to get yourself off on his cock that easily. Sure he would let you, he would give everything for the sight of you rubbing yourself to release like that. Your brows furrowed, you bit your lip to avoid any too naughty sounds escaping from it. But sooner or later you gave it up. He felt the warmth of your dripping cum smearing along his cock as you came undone on him. Filthy louds coming uninhibited from your wide open mouth and made him grin proudly. The view of you cumming on him like that made his cock pulse only harder, the impatience growing much more than it was already. You never look more beautiful when a orgasm hit you like that. And he would be a fool for not letting you get yourself off on his dick. But of course, even this wasn’t enough for you, no. You needed him deep inside with all his length. So you repositioned yourself again, that your pussy was hovering over his cock, before letting it slide a along inside, slowly and gently to get used to the size and stretch it caused.
A delightful stretch you couldn’t get more of. And even him, who was only whimpering before, started to groan much louder now. Letting out what he was trying to control before. He searched for your gaze, reached for your chin to turn your head to him and to see the lust in yours eyes. So real, so uninhibited and free. It was like nothing could stop the both of you now.
»That’s good, princess. So good. Show me more, yeah? Don’t hold back…«
Your hands grabbed as much flesh of him as they could, leaving red marks on his shoulders or chest, as you started moving back and forth on him. Every movement teased your clit in such a nice way, that you weren’t only whimpering but already letting out loud and naughty moans, smiling and feeling absolutely addicted to it. His hands were doing his best to grab your hips and help you with guiding you along his cock. You found your comforting motions which made it so easy for you, so you didn’t hesitated anymore. Riding him with such filthy noises, louder moans and the bed which squeaked with every jump of you. His blue eyes fixed on your face as if he didn’t want to loose any moment of it. He loved the freckles smile on your open lips, as you rode him faster the more your pussy squeezed around him. Your orgasm approached with every second and there’s was nothing more you wanted right now.
»Fuck, that’s it, baby. Lookin‘ so fucking beautiful..!« he praised you, panting heavy and the grip around your hips growing stronger. Little pearls of sweat running down your forehead and the rest of your bodies, letting them shine in the simple light. Skin clapping against skin, echoing in the room in perfect sync.
»S-Sa..toru…oh my god..« you whimpered desperately, keeping intense eye contact with him, as you felt the big wave of your climax approaching. Making everything in your body shaking and trembling, preparing for the final release that would give you that explosive orgasm you both craved for. Smiling you threw your head back in pure satisfaction like a goddess, moaning his name louder and louder like a praise. And he couldn’t ask for a better view than this. You looked so beautiful and this brought him over the edge right after you as well.
That’s when his dick twitched severeal times inside of you before releasing his heavy load of cum with a long relieved growl. His brows furrowed in delight, his eyes half closed and his hands grabbing harder on your soft flesh. You rolled your hips several times over his dick to get more of your climax as possible, drooling over this high intense love making with him.
»This…was Perfect.« You claimed breatheless and leaned down to Kiss him sloppy, with your heart still hammering heavy against your chest. He reached immediately, not wanting to ever separate from you anymore. Chuckling and breathing through his nose, the white-haired man, pressed you against his chest. The warmth of your pussy still wrapped around his cock, he didn‘t seem to have any intention of letting you go. No, of course not. How clingy Gojo Satoru could be, this would be a very sleepless night again. Not that you had anything against it…
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© 2024 flxrartsstuff. All rights reserved. Do not modify, repost or claim as yours.
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shegetsburned · 8 months ago
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❝ somethin’ stupid like i love you ❞ w. shiu kong ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .
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.nsfw.
• — content. shiu realizes he’s slowly falling for you and absolutely hates it. • — author’s note. coming back of hiatus with this! part of my fwb shiu content. feel free to send suggestions for this trope btw <3
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who genuinely thinks this whole thing is suspicious. it has never happened before. there’s no way he’s thinking about you this much. you must be playing a game he isn’t aware of.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who after a few months, made many more calls and asked for you more often than the usual one day a week. it has come to three to four days and even when you were busy he found ways to clear your schedule and have you all to himself.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who has gotten rougher and less patient when he fucks you. as soon as he steps through the door his hands are all over you and his warm breath covers your neck like he had been waiting all day to finally get a sample of your addicting scent.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who has a habit of “forgetting” his jacket or his pack of cigarettes at your place just to call you a few hours later to pass by and get his items back. little did you know it was just to see you some more.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who stays longer and doesn’t leave you as soon as he’s done. to your surprise, he stays until you fall asleep or sometimes when you’re lucky, shares a bath or a shower with you. nothing sexual, he just prefers to stay clean and helps you in the process.
you two have easy conversations about anything and everything without being scared of the other’s judgment. shiu likes to talk about anything as long as it doesn’t involve work and you love it when his deep chuckle resonates in your ears.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who has asked himself several times why he always needed to come back to you. he never realized how much he looked forward to these intimate moments which contradicted the whole accord you guys had made. this was supposed to be temporary and, now, he couldn’t go two days without the touch of your skin against his.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who begins to open up more about his work and clients. how uninteresting and full of cash they are, how good the pay is and how easy it is to fool scared millionaires. more importantly, he had told you in total confidence that he thought about quitting his job. it may have been easy money but it wasn’t the most morally fulfilling job.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who, for the first time, has stayed the night, sleeping in with you. you thought you’d awoke to an empty side of the bed, like always, but here he was, peacefully sleeping. needless to say, you had never seen him reveal this side of himself. he looked so comfortable, you were the one to leave first that morning.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who cursed himself for falling asleep in your bed, but it felt so good and he was so tired that his body had just given out. he made sure to gather everything before leaving in a hurry. no jacket or packs forgotten, only leaving his fresh and rich smell of smoke all over your apartment.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who was distracted at work. his thoughts diverged to his hands trailing your curves and your perfect lips he wanted to taste so badly. the feeling pierced his heart. did he actually miss you?
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who tried to dismiss his feelings by taking a small break from you and hooking up with different girls. despite his best efforts, nothing felt right when he was fucking them. he was quick and uninterested. it was so boring without you.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who, determined to not fall into your meaningless trap, has finally decided to give you one final call. he’d explain everything to you in person.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who got lost in time and ended up pussy drunk, between your legs, once again squeezing his soft tongue into your tight pussy. after all these sessions, he came to be the best at eating you out and knowing precisely how you wanted to be touched and handled.
“god- i fucking love you, [y/n].” he murmurs against your sloppy entrance, heavy breath itching at your skin and you can’t quite discern his sentence before panic finally sets in.
it comes out so easily out of his mouth, between two pants, like praise he had said over and over again. he doesn’t even notice, but you do. oh, yes you do.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who continues to place wet kisses on your inner thighs but you had stopped clenching the sheets to stare at him, eyes wide open. shiu was so strict about following the rules he had personally set, to maintain this kind of relationship and here he was saying that he loved you. what a fool.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who’s so mesmerized by your euphoric scent that he hasn’t yet become aware of the fact that he accidentally confessed to you. you can feel your heartbeat fasten and your pulse through your ears when he pronounces the words. your pink-tinted cheeks betray how flustered you are.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who brings you back to reality with a guttural groan as he dives back against your dripping folds, his nose pressing against your clit. his hands open up your legs more as you give out the meaningless fight and fall deeper into his delicious embrace.
“f-fuck.. wait- aaah- shiu..”
your mind’s hazy from the pleasure but you’re still thinking about his words. you wonder if it was only in the heat of the moment or a true confession he couldn’t have hidden much longer.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who had promised to never kiss you in fear of his emotions getting the best of him, but this night was different. your puffy pink lips were looking particularly pretty and captivating. he wasn’t one to break promises but his self-control was hanging on by a thread when he was so drunk over you. he moved upward, parting with your needy cunt to place a trail of light kisses along your chest, from your belly all the way to your neck.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who doesn’t hesitate further. his whole body’s covering yours when he leans into your neck, nibbling at the skin before capturing your lips in a hot and steamy kiss. he’s breathing the amount of air you have left, causing you to stop him abruptly, your fingers pushing his lips away. he’s taken aback, his eyes questioning yours with your skin still blocking his lips.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who looks perplex, like he missed an episode. what were you so tense all of a sudden? wasn’t he doing enough? you always loved the way he ate you out, so what’s changed? of course, he had forgotten about the kissing rule, but the flustered gaze you were wearing told him something else bothered you the most.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu whose gaze goes from your wet lips to your eyes. he knows what he did wrong but the memory of his confession is still blurry. delicately enough, he wraps his hand around your wrist to free his mouth. you whisper his name, panting, but he cuts you off almost immediately.
“don’t read too much into what i say when we’re fuckin’, angel.”
he’s trying to defend himself. truth is he was almost ashamed of slipping out to you like that. exposing his buried feelings to you made him want to disappear, especially considering the face you were wearing right now.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who’s reluctant to talk about it, he doesn’t want to talk about his feelings, he just wants to fuck you. had he forgotten why he came here in the first place? he had never gone this far with any of the girls he was fucking before and here he was, almost completely naked and so drunk over you that your pussy wasn’t enough for a taste. wasn’t he supposed to talk to you about terminating this affair?
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who was embarrassed to be so vulnerable when it came to you. he quickly regains his senses, moving away to give you enough space to sit up and wrap your sweating figure with the sheets.
“why are you so ashamed of it, shiu?”
he shakes his head frenetically. god. you didn’t understand anything did you? being obsessed with you wasn’t in any of his plans. he needed to get out of this situation quickly, otherwise he’d simply betray himself further.
“we can’t do this anymore. I’m ending our deal.” he says, skillfully putting his belt back with his clenched back muscles exposed to your sight.
his words were frustrating. was it your fault? was it you that he was so ashamed to love? “you were the one to break the rules, shiu.”
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who brushes it off, buttoning his white shirt back on. his hands travel inside his pockets, desperately searching for a cigarette. it was so annoying. it was so annoying that you could see right through him and that he had no power over it. he had no power over his feelings for you and it was infuriating.
˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who refuses to explain any further. the last thing he said before leaving your place was that you didn’t have to expect anymore calls or texts from him.
what he didn’t say was that he wanted to stay so badly. he wanted, without shame, to tell you how you made him feel but his pride inevitably got the best of him and he left without another word, leaving you naked in your bed, wondering how the hell you were so hung up on such a confused man.
© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.
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supernovafics · 8 months ago
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hiiii i just read your entire i’ll be there for you universe and I’M OBSESSED❤️❤️ Friends to lovers is my favourite trope ever and I love how you wrote a cute slow burn without characters being toxic and mean towards each other bc that happens a lot!
I was wondering how would their parents react to them being together?? And when do they decide to tell their parents, and how it goes down? It’s totally okay if you don’t want to write it but I thought it might be cute!🌸🌸
𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑
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"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 2.3k words
warnings: explicit language, fluff, implied smut, very slight parent drama
summary: in which your parents finally find out that you and steve are dating 
author's note: thanks for the request! (also for @hippiefairy02 since you requested basically the same thing like a week ago lol). i didn’t really know how to end this one so it kinda just ends lol<3 enjoy though<333
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Spring 1986
The movie became long forgotten after only the first twenty minutes, which was somewhat of a routine at this point. It was a good thing that you both had seen this one already. 
If you were to look back at who started everything this time around you’d toss the blame onto Steve for initiating the first kiss, but he’d put the blame on you for settling yourself close into his side and giving him a “certain look.”
You were far from thinking about who started what, though, because all you could focus on was the feel of Steve settled on top of you and his mouth against yours. 
Your hands started traveling underneath his plain white t-shirt and one of his took hold of your hip, teasingly slipping a finger or two beneath the waistband of your small pajama shorts. Your legs were tangled with his in a way that was a bit awkward because the couch was way too small to do anything completely comfortably, but you two were okay with making it work for the time being. 
You maneuvered a bit, attempting to push up so that your head could find the pillow that was leaning against the arm of the couch, and the abrupt movement made your forehead bump his.
It didn’t even hurt, but Steve still pulled back and looked at you concerned. “You okay?”
You nodded as you tilted your head up a bit to press a quick kiss against his nose. “I’m fine. You okay?”
“‘M good.” He nodded too and then slotted his lips against yours again.  
You were pulling away after only a second. “Wait, let’s switch. I feel like I’m gonna accidentally knee you or something.”
“Or we can just go to one of our rooms,” He suggested as his lips found your neck, which immediately made your eyes slip shut and you had to bite your lip to hold back the contented sigh that you wanted to let out. 
You almost said yes to Steve’s words, it would’ve been so easy to say yes, but you were trying to keep your thinking somewhat rational, so you shook your head instead. “If we do that, we’re not gonna come out for the rest of the night. And we said that we’d at least try to study for the test we have on Thursday once the movie’s over.”
“The movie we’re not watching,” He mumbled against your neck. 
“Still counts,” You said, lightly pushing him away, and he conceded as you shifted things around so that you were on top of him, settled nicely in his lap with your legs on either side of him. “See? Much better.” 
Before he could potentially say anything in response, you pushed a hand through his hair and leaned down to kiss him. His fingers started teasingly playing with the hem of your t-shirt before simply finding a home on your hips and squeezing you there. 
It was almost too obvious what should’ve happened next and both of you could feel the energy shifting into something a bit more heated, more needy. You would’ve lifted from his lap for a second so that he could slide down his sweatpants and boxers, and then you’d simply pull your underwear and shorts to the side because it would’ve been too much work to fully shimmy out of them. 
But then the phone started ringing in the kitchen and everything that felt like it was right on the verge of happening was pushed out of the window.  
You detached your mouth from Steve’s and sat up. “I’ll get it.”
He let out a groan, head falling back against the throw pillow and hands still on your hips. “Don’t.”
“We have six needy kids and a Robin, I think we have to answer it.”  
“Sadly, that makes sense,” His grip on you loosened and you finally maneuvered off of him after pressing a quick kiss against his forehead. 
You went to the kitchen, where the phone was, and picked it up. “Hello?”
“Hi,” It was easy to decipher your mom’s voice on the other end of the line. “What are you doing Saturday?”
It wasn’t surprising to you that your mom completely skipped past any sort of small talk; the “How are you’s” and “How’ve you been’s.” She always got straight to the point. 
“Me and Steve are gonna be out of town this weekend,” You answered. “I planned this whole date thing and we leave Friday night.” 
It was completely accidental; so accidental that at first, you didn’t even register what you had just told her.
“You and Steve are what?” 
“We’re gonna be in Chicago this weekend for—” You stopped abruptly, finally realizing what you said before. “Oh. Oh, yeah, um, we’re dating.” 
Her gasp was immediate. “Oh my God.”
You couldn’t decipher what that reaction was. She sounded surprised, definitely, but you couldn’t tell if it was a happy kind of surprise or upset.
“How long has it been?”
“A few months.” You shut your eyes then, bracing yourself for what you knew was about to be nothing short of an interrogation.
“What? Why haven’t you told us sooner?”
In all honesty, it wasn’t like either you or Steve were planning on keeping it from your parents forever, it had just never come up in the handful of conversations you’d had with them over the last few months. 
“It’s just, I don’t know. It hadn’t come up yet,” You ultimately answered. “And plus, you never really cared that much about my other relationships.”
“Sure, but Steve’s completely different. This is great!” She told you, and you inwardly sighed in relief that she was happy about the news; even though you were certain that you wouldn’t have cared about having her “approval” either way. “Does Christine know?” 
“No.” 
“Okay, I’m gonna call her right now,” Your mom told you, and you were actually perfectly okay with her ending the call with you right then to go call Steve’s mom instead. “Oh, this is so great!”
She was hanging up before you could say anything else and you were sighing as you placed the phone back on the hook.
“I’m sorry,” You told Steve as you joined him back on the couch. 
He looked at you, confused. “What happened?”
“I accidentally just told my mom that we’re dating, and now she’s calling your mom to tell her too.”  
“Oh, okay, that’s not that bad,” He shrugged. “I guess it had to happen eventually.”
“Yes, but I was kinda hoping that that day would be years from now. Like, when we sent out wedding invitations or something.” 
In your head, telling your friends about you and Steve was one thing, but telling your parents was something entirely different. Your friends were heavily involved in your life, and you knew that you couldn’t keep it from them forever because of that; and then it eventually just felt right to finally be honest about it, anyway. 
Telling your parents, on the other hand, was the farthest thing from your mind. 
“They would probably kill us if we did that. Especially our moms because you know that they’re gonna wanna be involved in the whole thing,” Steve told you, and you knew he was right. 
There were some few and far in-between moments where your parents would switch and pretend to be real parents that were actually involved in their kid’s life. Usually, it only happened during the holidays; Christmases spent pretending that you were a happy and normal family or Thanksgivings that were used to prove the same thing. In a way, it made sense for this news to warrant that same kind of treatment.
You groaned as you leaned further into Steve. “I hate that you’re right.”
Your mom was calling back barely twenty minutes later, right as the two of you were in the middle picking up where you had left off before the first call. Steve answered that time, pulling his sweatpants back up and heading over to the kitchen, and you slipped your shirt back over your head.
“Oh, um, yeah, that’s fine. That night is good,” You heard him say. “We’ll be there.”
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at whatever he was agreeing to right then.  
He hung up a few moments later and gave you an apologetic look. “Okay, now I’m the one that needs to say sorry.”
“What happened?”
“It was your mom,” Steve started as he sat next to you again. “She said she talked to my mom and they’re both really happy about us dating. And they decided that they wanna have a “celebratory dinner” kind of thing with us.”
“No.”
Steve nodded. “It’s gonna be at your parent’s house on Thursday since she knows that we’re going to Chicago for the weekend. I couldn’t think of an excuse on the spot, so I was just agreeing.”
“Oh, God. I feel like this is gonna be like Thanksgiving all over again.”
“Hopefully the dessert is better this time around,” He said, attempting to lighten the mood, and you let out a laugh. 
“If not, then we will definitely be ending the night at Third Street,” You told him and he nodded in agreement before pulling you into his lap. 
“Can we please go to my room?” He asked, arms circling around you. “I feel like the couch is cursed.”
You smiled, lips finding his for a brief second. “Okay, yes, I’ll allow it.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
This night didn’t feel anything like the Thanksgiving dinner that you and Steve had been forced to have all those months ago; at least, not at first. During that night, your parents had gone on and on about their ski trip that was coming up and there were barely any moments where the conversation was focused on you and Steve. 
Now things were different because all they cared about was talking about you two, which did make sense given the reasoning for the dinner. But still, you knew your parents, and this amount of excited fanfare surrounding the two of you felt entirely unexpected. 
Your dad was jokingly giving his “stamp of approval” for the relationship, and Steve’s dad was saying something about how you’d always been a good influence on Steve. And then your moms went on tangent after tangent going down memory lane and telling stories about you and Steve as kids. 
“I’d been hoping this would happen ever since the cruise,” Christine said, a happy smile on her face. “You two were practically attached at the hip the entire time, and that still hasn’t changed.” 
“Yes, you guys were always so cute together. Oh, and remember when you took each other to your proms? I think I still have the pictures somewhere,” Your mom said, smiling happily as well, and you honestly wouldn’t have even minded if she brought out the pictures. 
Eventually, though, things shifted, and toward the end of dinner, the conversation moved away from you and Steve. Instead, your parents started reminiscing about old moments from their collective friendship that didn’t involve you and Steve at all. This made sense to you; you knew that it could only be a matter of time before they finally started talking about themselves.   
With the topic of you and Steve long forgotten, you two slipped away from the table, no one noticing or stopping you, and retreated to your old bedroom that was just down the hall. 
You sat at the foot of your old bed and watched as Steve simply walked around, taking a look at the things that you had decided to leave behind and not bring along to the apartment. 
You kicked your shoes off and crossed your legs under you. “Tonight actually hasn’t been completely unbearable.” 
“Yeah, weirdly, it hasn’t,” Steve agreed as he walked over to you and leaned down to press a kiss against the top of your head. “There’s no dessert though, so we’ll have to go to Third Street.”
“Do you think they’d notice if we slipped out of my window right now?” 
He laughed a bit. “Fifty-fifty shot.”
“Personally, I wouldn’t mind taking those odds,” You said, smiling up at him. 
“I would say okay, but I think I have to be the reasonable one here and say that we should just walk out the front door like normal people.”
His words only made you smile wider because usually, it was you who would say the logical thing to do in situations.
“We’ve swapped roles tonight,” You said as you stood up and put your shoes back on. “I think you do a great job as the reasonable one.” 
“I don’t like it. You can have that job back after tonight,” He told you, smiling as his hand found yours.
You only nodded as you and he headed out of your bedroom. Your parents were still at the dining table, laughing about something that you didn’t hear. 
“Hey, we’re gonna head out. We have to wake up early tomorrow, so yeah,” You said, pulling their attention onto you and Steve. It was a lie, but it felt like it would be a plausible enough excuse. “Thanks for tonight.” 
“Yeah, it was great,” Steve agreed with a quick nod. 
A slew of “Goodnight’s” and “Drive safe’s” came from your parents, which you two nodded and smiled at before exiting your house. 
You let out a sigh of relief once you were sat in the passenger seat of Steve’s car. 
The night hadn’t been horrible, you’d experienced much worse dinners with your parents. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t glad that this one was over. 
“So, are we gonna be basic tonight and do milkshakes, or have whatever pie Mary made for the night?” You asked as you played with the radio and then left it on a station that you’d probably end up changing in a minute or two. 
Steve took a quick glance at you and smiled. “If she made apple, then I think the answer is obvious.”
“Very true,” You nodded and smiled back at him. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
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brummiereader · 10 months ago
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MASTERLIST PART TWO
Unchained Melody (Part Three)
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Summary: As an uncomfortable tension settles between you both the next day, Tommy finally musters up enough courage to say what needs to be said, only to be interrupted by a scornful Governess, then two unexpected visitors later that day. But as night descends on Arrow House and your guests return to their homes, your husband tells you of the uncomfortable reality, and turmoil you had left him in as he drowns himself in his most reliable friend, and remedy to numb the pain. Whisky.
Warnings: Language, angst, postpartum depression, mutual pining
Word Count: 5291
Authors note: A quieter chapter before things finally come to a head after an eventful, terrifying day in the next part.
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Two days. You had been back for a total of two, full days. Not only had you and Tommy been avoiding the hard discussion that desperately needed to take place, you had learnt that the Governess who was hired to care for your son had also been keeping your husband company. Or to be more accurate, keeping him company in the martial bed you once shared. You didn't think it possible your heart could ache anymore until last night when your eyes landed on Tommy's sheepish gaze staring back at you as you left your son's nursery, and you came face to face with not only his disheveled appearance but his belt shamelessly unbuckled as the Governess sauntered from the dimly lit room they had both left. It didn't take much for you to come to the anguished realisation of what had occurred in your absence as you tormented yourself for the remainder of the evening with images of your husband making love to the woman you felt had replaced you, all while a painful nagging of self- conscious thoughts plagued your sleepless night.
Did she satisfy him better than you ever did? Was her body more attractive to him than yours? Did he...love her? As a barrage of unstoppable questions you had no answers for other than the ones your worried mind could conjure up, you dragged your shaky body timidly down the winding staircase the next morning, every part of you fearing you would break down into a puddle of pitiful tears for the hundredth time once again.
You were weeks, if not days from having enough willpower to return to Arrow House, you'd tell yourself. Whether you truthfully believed it or not, it was the sole dream you held onto, wishfully hoping your husband hadn't forgotten you, praying he and your son would show you mercy if you ever returned to them. How could you have been so selfish to think he would've waited? That he wouldn't have moved on? You thought to yourself as you scrambled to piece together your shattered heart from the embarrassment you felt for being so foolish. Your place in the grand house you once called your home was thoroughly understood. You were now, the other woman.
Smoothing down the front of your dress, you closed your eyes, desperately trying to compose yourself before you entered the dining room and let your true feelings slip.
"Good morning Mrs Shelby, some tea perhaps?" Frances greeted you, stood next to William cutting his toast into smaller, toddler-sized pieces as you entered the room. Mrs Shelby...Was you still? You thought to yourself as you walked to the end of the large mahogany table with Tommy sat at the head, looking at the end of the burning cigarette resting between his fingers, anywhere but you, anywhere that would hide the shame in his eyes and the regret uncomfortably wrapped around his chest.
" Yes, thank you, Frances" you answered quietly as you looked to the seat beside Tommy. Your seat. The seat saved solely for the lady of the house. A simple, once mundane decision as to where to sit suddenly felt like the most cementing finality to your broken marriage. Forgoing the position you once held, you made your way around the table to sit next to your son as Tommy's eyes flew up, darting to the unoccupied chair next to him then back to you, huffing as he stubbed his cigarette out into the glass ashtray. What did he expect? Tommy, the man always a step ahead of everyone else, couldn't fathom that someone couldn't just soldier on like him, ignoring the fragility of such a situation, and have things left unspoken without resolution.
With his tired body relenting to yet another issue that needed to be faced, he slouched into the frame of his seat as he turned his head away, running his hand down his tired features as a headache from guzzling half a bottle of whisky in an attempt to numb his guilt the previous night started to thump furiously across his forehead. He too, hadn't slept.
" William, eat your toast son" Tommy said clearing his throat as he sat up noisily unfolding his newspaper whilst staring at you, trying to garner your attention and have you finally look his way. But with your refusal to do so, a mutual silence descended between you both as you tended to your son and ignored your husband's blatant attempts to show you how unhappy he was with your choice of seats. Was he looking for an argument? Was that what he wanted, a slagging match to tally up who was more in the wrong?
" Some more water for your tea Mam" Frances said as she walked in and placed a floral china teapot in front of you as Tommy looked over his newspaper, stealing another glance before furrowing his brow and returning his eyes to the first line of the business collum he had read, and re-read at least ten times already.
The latest happenings in the world of finance that would normally have him buried deep in thought each morning held little to zero interest as his worries drifted to what you were thinking, occupying every space in his restless mind. Did you think he was still having sex with her? That she had replaced you? That he loved her? Tommy nervously thought to himself as his paper lowered, and he watched your lips graze over the porcelain cup in your hand as a dusting of particles illuminated by the morning sun glittered gracefully around you. Captured once again, Tommy's feelings of melancholy that once shrouded him suddenly subsided and an urgent need for reconciliation swept over him as his fingers inadvertently inched across the freshly laid table cloth closer to your hand.
"Y/N, can we tal..." he said apprehensively as you finally looked up to see the anguish engulfing his tired face when the door flew open and the Governess strode in, quickly causing him to snatch his hand away.
" Frances, tea" she demanded looking to Tommy giving him a smirk as he glared at her, his jaw tightening within seconds at the mere sight of her smug face.
" Staff eat down in the kitchen, unless invited otherwise" Tommy mumbled, lifting his newspaper as the tension that had slowly simmered between you both came thundering back tenfold into a suffocating pressure that was weighing the room down. Fuck, she needed to go. Tommy thought to himself as she sat down beside him without a care, taking your place once again, thinking she had the upper hand in the situation. Her little stunt filled with veiled threats the previous night had Tommy calling up and down the country all morning gathering as much information as he could on who she was, and her own little secrets she wished to keep from seeing the light of day. Brazen enough to make such threats, Tommy was no fool to think she hadn't safeguarded the intel she had acquired on him. And until he had dealt with whoever had been entrusted with said information, be it family or friend, her unwelcome presence in the house would have to be begrudgingly endured.
" Mummy" William smiled up at you with jammy cheeks, and a single toothy smile whilst kicking his legs back and forth, single handily bringing a smile to your face and a distraction from the frosty stare the Governess sat across from you was sending your way.
" Hi sweetheart..." You replied quietly, running your fingers across his plump cheek as a tear settled on your lashes, never tiring from hearing the sweetest of words spoken to you.
" Don't talk with your mouth full William" the governess barked, breaking the tender moment between you both and shocking you out of the one delight you felt you were allowed to enjoy.
" Give it a rest, would you? He's two bloody years old" Tommy snapped back, having had enough of her overbearing, over-controlling attitude towards his son, your son. Why the hell did he even go there, with her? Tommy thought to himself, wondering if it wouldn't be easier to just throw her in the cut.
" More, more, more" William's little voice squeaked as he pointed enthusiastically to the glass dish of strawberry jam in the center of the table as a quiet chuckle left Tommy's lips and a smile graced your own at his sheer determination, and the learnt knowledge of his sweet tooth he could have only inherited from one person.Tommy.
Reaching for the jam, you pulled it towards you when a hand suddenly grabbed the opposite end, sharply pulling it back into the middle of the table.
" Do you want him bouncing of the walls, hm? Did you eat a lot of sugar when you nursed him? That certainly explains a lot" The governess peered down at you, not giving you an opportunity to reply before coming to her own judgment as you recalled into the back of your seat and a sudden surge of self-doubt engulfed your stomach, your ability to be a mother suddenly brought into question over something so meaningless as a second serving of jam. As your eyes cast down at the cold cup of tea in front of you, every interaction you had had with your son since your return had the feelings of inadequacy that once darkened your mind seep rapidly back into your fragile thoughts.
As you shrank into yourself, numb of William pulling at the sleeve of your dress while the Governess continued her barrage of unwarranted parenting knowledge, Tommy watched as your tearful eyes looked up at him, pulling at his heart until he could no longer withstand the torment of seeing you look so vulnerable. Throwing his newspaper onto the empty plate in front of him, Tommy abruptly stood up, glaring at the Governess as his teeth grounded down onto eachother. Her overstepping into the role you solely held as William's mother getting on his last, and final nerve.
" It's just fucking jam!" Tommy's voice rose, reaching over the table placing the small bowl in front of William as the Governess lips pursed together, and she folded her arms in annoyance that her lecture had gone ignored. "Enjoy my boy" Tommy said walking behind your son, placing a tender kiss to the crown of his head as he looked to you before swiftly leaving the room with some urgent calls to be made, and preferably an anchor and rope to be ordered.
" Well..." The governess scoffed as her eyes darted from the slamming of the dining room door to you, glaring at you up and down. "You certainly have soured his mood. And to think he was finally starting to enjoy life again" she commented as her fingers curled around the cup in her hand, sowing yet another dousing of blame into your troubled mind. Was she right? Had your unexpected return thrown Tommy's apparent newly founded happiness into chaos?
Sat at the living room bay window with a book resting in your hands you had little to no interest in, your eyes darted up from the pages to see your husband outside patting down one of his newest race horses on the freshly pruned grass. Tommy always had been stubborn about anything that would show the slightest ounce of vulnerability in him. So to see him occupying himself with a four-legged creature rather than any two-legged human that could neither, answer back, nor confront him came as no surprise.
Returning to the pages of your book, Tommy, who had chosen the most unusual of spots to inspect his horse, that just so happened to be in viewing distance of you, couldn't help but glance up every other second to get a quick glimpse of you all while internally berating himself for acting like some nervous teen boy psyching himself up to talk to his crush. With a heavy sigh leaving his throat, Tommy looked your way, throwing his cigarette onto the grass with determination to have his thoughts settled once and for all, and finally discuss what needed to be said. But just as you looked up to see Tommy striding towards you, his mustered up courage to have the conversation he had been avoiding took another blow as a car screeched around the corner, interrupting him once again.
" Where is she Tommy?" Polly demanded to know as Esme slammed the car door behind her and they both marched up to the house without the slightest of greetings to him.
" Fuck sake" he mumbled under his breath pointing to the house as you abruptly stood up, bracing yourself for what was to come while your eyes darted to your husband leading his horse away and the living room door seconds away from being thrown open.
" Esme..would you..bloody hell..." Polly grunted, as they pushed past one another through the door frame, when the Lee girl slipped through first and came running up to you. Stepping back your eyes widened, readying yourself for the inevitable, only to be quickly welcomed into a tight hug.
" Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" She said, wrapping her arms around you as your body relaxed into hers and tears began to streak your face.
" Es, I...I don't know. I'm so sorry" you cried as she cupped your cheeks, brushing your tears away with her thumbs whilst you internally scolded yourself for not opening up to the friend that had become a sister, and most cherished supporting hand throughout your pregnancy and labour.
" I would have come with you. God knows I need a bloody break" she stifled her tears with a laugh, pulling you back into her arms as you reached your hand out for Polly who was stood behind her, her trembling hands hovering over the smile beaming across her face.
" I told him, I told you all" Polly said with tears welling in her eyes as she pulled you into a hug, stroking the hair away from your face as you cried into her shoulder. " I checked, I made sure" she said closing her eyes as she clutched the black Madonna around her neck, silently thanking her ancestor's guidance. " Look at you" she said cupping your face as she pressed a longing kiss to your forehead, relief sweeping over her that you was still in one piece. "Come let's sit, before we all lose our footing" she said sniffing back her tears as she linked her arm into yours and led you to the two large cushioned sofas in the middle of the room.
" Where's William?" Esme asked as she looked around the grand sitting area only to see his toys scattered along the floor.
" With the Governess" you said, diverting your eyes as Polly shot Esme a sharp look, or rather, a warning.
" ABCs and 123s, he's two years old for god's sake. Should be out with the horses, in the mud and the meadows, not stuck between four walls. Never did me any harm" Esme huffed as she let her tired body and aching back from another baby weighing down her stomach fall into the feathered stuffed sofa. "What was Tommy thinking hiring that witch?"
" Esme!" Polly warned her as she looked back to you with a tight smile, holding your hand within her own. "Tommy hasn't been in his right mind for a long time"
" It's ok, I know they're together" you said biting, your bottom lip as you looked to the mantel place. Your pictures with him still sitting there neatly one by one. Memories stuck in a flash of a moment, cruelly tormenting you for what you had given up, and what you desperately longed for once again.
" Together? Whoever told you that?" Polly asked, furrowing her brow. " Love, as crude as it is, Tommy... Well I don't think there was ever any feelin..."
" It's ok Polly, It really is" you said cutting her off, trying to reassure yourself and subsequently avoid any further discussion on the topic that had consumed all your thoughts of late. " I burst their happy little bubble"
"Don't think the crate of whisky he has my John bring to his office door once a week, like some bloody delivery boy would agree with you" Esme said less than tactfully as Polly's head snapped to her. "What?" She said bewildered as to why Polly's eyes were suddenly boring into her very soul.
"Esme, why don't you go get us something to eat? Biscuits perhaps" Polly said as your sister-in-law furrowed her brow, crossing her arms.
" Biscuits?" Esme asked frowning, like it was the most bizarre, most confusing of questions to ask someone.
" Yes, bloody biscuits. And a bottle of whisky" she said as Esme stood up with a huff. "The good stuff, he keeps hidden in his office cabinet!" Polly called out as Esme waved her hand above her head mumbling to herself before shutting the door.
" Oh love" Polly said, moving her attention back to you with a heavy look of worry as she stared into your eyes, only sadness and shame to be found in them. "Why didn't you come to me?"
" I was scared you'd judge me Polly, that I couldn't cope when every other woman around me makes it look so easy" you sobbed as she pulled you into your arms.
" God knows there were moments when I wanted to run from it all, Esme too. The only difference between us is, you battled through when we buckled. You didn't have to love, we were here for you. We would have held you up" she said, holding you In front of her as she dabbed your tears from your cheeks. " Your pain is my pain. I would have walked the lonely path of motherhood with you, holding your hand all the way" she finished, cupping your cheeks when Esme walked in with a large cake on a polished silver tray, and one of the finest bottles of whisky Tommy possessed tucked safely under her arm.
" No biscuits, but I found another one of these fucking cakes again" Esme huffed from holding the heavy monstrosity in her hands.
" Give me the knife " Polly demanded with her hand out, her brow raised as she waited.
" Don't think I'm capable of cutting a bloody cake, Polly?"
"Esme" Polly's eyes narrowed in, their once mutual disdain for each other now a daily power play of Polly trying to assert herself over her nephews wild hearted wife.
"Shelby's. Stubborn, the lot of you" she said handing the knife over as she sent you a quick smile." So, you and Tommy had it out yet? " Esme asked, curious as to where you both stood with each other now you had returned.
"I think he tried to. At one point" you replied, recalling the brief moment in the dining room before the Governess barged in, interrupting his chances. " He won't forgive me, I know he wont"
" You focus on little William for now, Tommy can wait. It may do him so good to mull things over, before he says something pigheaded " Polly said handing you slice of cake. She and Esme may bash heads on many things, but the inherited trait of stubbornness was something she couldn't deny. And unfortunately for you, Tommy's headstrong, unyielding nature was the vain of the whole family's existence.
" I can't stomach anymore of it" Esme said, refusing her plate as she made a beeline for the whisky instead.
" God, me neither" Polly agreed, dropping the knife as she took Esme's glass tumbler from her.
" Why, what's wrong with it?" You asked inspecting it, noting it's familiarity to the cake you would often bake.
" Oh, you didn't know?" Polly smiled as she sat back in her chair, her eyes playfully glimmering from the amber liquid bouncing off the sides of the crystal glass in her hand " Every Saturday Tommy insists on that bloody fruit cake you used to bake that weighed more than a newborn baby on being made. He sends that poor old cook up and down the country in search of the ingredient Tommy insists is missing"
" He hated my fruit cake" you chuckled, looking down at the plate in your hand as the memory of happier times when you had become adamant on perfecting your baking skills before the birth of William on a reluctant Tommy flooded your thoughts.
"He still does. But it was a little part of you he couldn't part with" she winked at you as she poured herself another glass of whisky. " I'm starting to think he just enjoys watching the torment on Mr Giles face as the kitchen staff gather around to hear his weekly verdict every Saturday evening" Polly laughed into her drink at her nephews dry sense of fun, and the growing stockpile of cake enough to build a small house stored in the pantry." Why don't you bake him one?"
" Polly, I don't think a cake will fix this" you sighed, casting your eyes down to your lap when she cupped the side of your cheek, turning it to face her glistening hazel eyes.
"No. But it might make him smile. And that would be a sight"
As you said your goodbyes to Polly and Esme out in the grand foyer, grateful for the afternoon you had spent with them and their comforting words, Tommy stood watching by the front door, a pang of jealousy settling in his chest at everyone's ease with you like no time had passed, and mounting frustration with himself that he couldn't do the same.
" All is forgotten then, eh?" Tommy said in passing as the sound of the front door closed, his spite quickly finding a way to weave itself back into the iron cast wall he had slowly let down as he sulked off to his office once again, leaving you with his dampened mood for a fresh crate of whisky waiting for him.
One and a half years ago...
" Tommy this has to stop" Polly said, hovering over his desk, her nephew's head buried deep in a stack of maps, newspaper clippings and letters.
" Not now, Pol" Tommy replied, stubbing his cigarette out before returning to the large plan of Birmingham's canal system on his desk. Wide-eyed and restless. Polly was certain he hadn't slept in days, if not weeks.
" Enough Tommy!" She shouted, trying to snap him out of his madness as she snatched the large map away from him, her eyes pleading with him to give up, to rest.
" I will not fucking stop! Do you hear me?! I will not stop until her body is found!" He bellowed, pointing his finger into the desk as tears welled in his eyes and his face reddened with fury. "Just leave Polly...Go" he sighed, pinching the skin between his brows, his tired body unable to keep up with another argument with his Aunt, and his relentless search for you.
" There's no body to be found Thomas" Polly said as he walked around his desk grabbing the map from her hands before dropping into the sofa and pouring himself not a finger, not even two, but a whole glass of whisky. " Enough!" She said, marching over to him, throwing the remainder of the bottles contents into the fire place before crouching down in front of him. " You can't dull it forever Tommy. You have to listen to me, she's not passed over"
" Polly Stop" Tommy replied, burying his hands into his hair, scrapping his nails along his scalp at the stress tightening around his skull.
" You won't find anything"
" Polly stop, stop STOP!" Tommy's voice crescendoed until a sob of cries left his lips and his shoulders slouched over his body, drained of any rational thought left. " She's dead Pol" Tommy said looking up to his Aunt with an empty, lifeless stare as his hands fell down onto his thighs. Drunk, beaten down and hollow. Tommy had not an ounce of will to carry on. The second half of him was gone, and if it wasn't for William, he would have gladly welcomed the sweet release of death and joined you if it had brought him peace, and you back into his arms. "She's fucking dead..."
As you rummaged through the kitchen cabinets in search of a bottle of brandy you were certain was the missing ingredient from your fruit cake Tommy had ordered Mr Giles to bake every weekend in your absence, a loud crash quickly followed by your husband shouting every blasphemy known to man had you jumping away from the cupboards, and your own choice of profanities quickly leaving your lips.
" Shit!" you heard Tommy mumble as you slowly approached his office door to see him steadying himself with one hand on his desk as he poured the remaining contents of a bottle of whisky into a glass while blood dripped from an open cut on his hand. " What the fuck you looking at, eh?" Tommy said stumbling back and forth as he pointed at the large portrait of himself hung in his office. "Dickhead"
Just go to bed Tommy. You silently pleaded, watching him ease himself into his leather chair as he buried his head in his hand, replaying every moment from the day you had left to every hour he would spend trying to find your body over and over again in his head, letting his emotions fester inside, clinging onto them in an attempt to change their outcome. Watching him reach for another bottle of whisky, you opened the door and walked in, fearing he would drink until he passed out.
" Is everything ok? I heard a noise" You said, looking around his usually immaculate office stacked with paperwork and broken furniture.
" Fucking fantastic sweetheart " Tommy replied, trying to unscrew the cap of the bottle as you carefully walked around a smashed lamp on the ground you could only assume got in his way. " Fuck..." Tommy sighed, his injured hand rendering his attempts to open the large whisky bottle useless. Removing the satin belt around your dressing gown, you took his hand, gently wrapping the soft fabric around the deep gash across his knuckles as Tommy watched on in silence, swallowing the lump forming in his throat as your delicate touch stirred his unwanted emotions once again.
" There" you said letting go, waiting for him to say something, anything to break the palpable silence that had descended between you both as his eyes roamed down your body, and he opened mouth to say something pigheaded, exactly as his Aunt had predicted had he not been left alone to wallow in his own self pity.
" Do you wanna fuck?"
" Jesus Christ...get some sleep Tommy" you sighed, shaking your head as you turned for the door. He had every right to be angry at you, but this, this you didn't have to deal with. A drunken Tommy was an unreasonable man, and you now regrettably wished you had let him drink himself to sleep, and pass out on the floor.
" No? Thought it would stop me from hating you so much" he stated coldly as you came to a stop, his words piercing you as deep as he had intended them to.
" You already have someone that's been keeping your bed warm, our bed warm. Don't you Tommy?" You said, unable to keep your bitterness contained any longer as you turned to face him, and he came to face the outcome of his harsh words streaming down your cheeks.
" I shared our bed with nobody Y/N" Tommy pointed to you as he stood up, taking the large map he had mulled over for the past two years from his desk as he walked past you to the fire. There was no lie in his words. Never once had he tarnished the most intimate part of what was left of you. No matter what he had done to dull his grief in the past, every night Tommy would faithfully return to your martial bed unaccompanied, desperately holding onto the memory of your body wrapped warmly in his arms. " I thought you were dead" he said, the vows he had made to stay faithful unknowingly severed, crushing him more than any broken promise he had ever made.
" I know" you sobbed as you slowly approached and stood beside him, welcoming the comforting warmth from the fireplace as you looked into the towering orange flames and crackling wood burning below them.
" Do you know how long I looked for you?" He said, glancing up at you as you shook your head, feeling a surge of nervousness at where the conversation was suddenly going. "One year, six months and twenty two days" he said, throwing the folded document into the fire, watching the hours he had spent mapping each river, each stream and every canal burn into ash.
" Tommy...I'm so sorry. I should never have let you think that I was dead" you apologised, brushing your tears away as Tommy's stare stayed fixed on the last piece of paper melting away.
" Searched every forest, every train track until the only thing that was left was the waters, hoping your body hadn't been swept out to sea" his voice grew louder as his anger began to pump furiously beneath his skin.
" Tommy please..." you pleaded as your eyes welled with tears once again, trying to turn his stiffened frame to face you as his hand tightened around the intricately carved mantel, his knuckles turning opaque from the heat rapidly coursing through his veins.
"Polly put an end to it. Had my men stop me from leaving my own house for weeks on end. My own fucking house!" He continued, slamming his fist into the wood with a strong enough blow to split it, leaving a fractured line running permanently through the middle.
" Tom stop, please!" You begged him, trying to pull him away from the raging flames, from the raging fire within him.
" Enough!" he shouted as his hand came up to strike you when your eyes widened and he stopped himself, stumbling back in horror at the terror on your face. "Fuck!" He bellowed from the depths of his lungs, turning away to the door to hide the tears welling in his eyes and the shame on his face.
" Tommy, It's...it's ok. It's ok" You cried slowly approaching him, your body trembling with each step. " Let's sit down, and talk. Yeh?" Your shaky voice tried to reason with him as your hand brushed gently over his shoulder, coming to rest in the middle of his back.
" Now you want to talk, eh? he said, choking out a stifled breath as he brushed his tears away before turning to face your silent pleas to stay. "I'm afraid..." he sighed, bringing his hand up to stroke along your cheek as your fingers held tightly onto the front of his shirt came up to cup his cheeks, pulling him closer to you. "...I'm afraid you may be too late my darling" Tommy said scrunching his eyes closed as his lips hovered over yours, your sobs intensifying into hopeless cries before he pulled your hands off him and left without another word.
Fear of you leaving him again, fear of never being able to forgive you. Tommy Shelby, the most feared gangster in Birmingham, was in fact a man scared, a man so conflicted with the most vulnerable of feelings he had pushed down to the very depths of his heart for the past two years. Love. His broken heart still madly, still deeply in love with the one and only woman of his life. You.
PART FOUR
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l0vem41l · 4 months ago
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something's wrong with the morning.
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「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited 2 the max, potentially ooc but WHO GAF (me. igaf), he misreads tone over text and it's totally not me projecting, bros just a little anxious and its totally not me projecting, richard "acts of service" grayson in the real, pretty heavily romantic implied but it can be interpreted as platonic becuz we fw that here!!!!! 」
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「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」
↳ ft. richard "dick" grayson/nightwing
author's note: yes i am uh. doing More dc stuff. guys im really sorry but its literally leeching off my brain like a parasite i fear. enjoy!!!!!!! ♪(´▽`) <3 the lyric below is what i based this off of but as usual, GENDER NEUTRAL READER!!!
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"and how something's wrong with the morning / when he doesn't phone to say he loves me"
dick has been staring at the text since the minute he received it.
“gm.”
you sent two letters. and a period at the end.
immediately, there's a weird feeling he gets— a pit forming in the depths of his stomach as he reads it over and over again, as if he expects it to magically change in front of his eyes.
you usually send something… more in the morning. you greet him happily and use a silly nickname, he greets you and uses a silly nickname back. it's sort of tradition for the two of you, mainly built on the fact that him being a vigilante leaves very little time for the two of you.
so what the hell happened to that tradition? where’s his “good morning pookie!” or “hope you slept well, sunshine :]” that he's grown so accustomed to?
of course, he has to go on with his day like usual. at least, he's trying his best. to his credit, he does pretty well. after all, dick grayson is a performer at heart! even if it secretly feels like a part of his world just collapsed in on itself, he does not sulk about it.
but to the observant, there's obviously been a shift.
the slightly irritable mood he’s been in? definitely normal. the fact that he’s been swiping away every notification with disinterest if it’s not you? totally nothing.
more astute criminals in blüdhaven are a little off put by the fact that nightwing is still at full quip capacity while hitting just a little harder and being just a teeny bit more bitchy.
there nervous speculation going around that next week he'll be in the discowing fit
nightwing notices that his mask is slipping a bit. but does he care? well... not really. what's more important to him is what's going on inside his head. and he's been thinking— hardcore reflecting on every single recent previous interaction with you, looking back to everything that must’ve made things go wrong.
maybe he should’ve let you win that one argument last monday, even though he’d been pretty certain he was right because you really aren't supposed to stack cards in uno that way.
or maybe “anything’s fine” as a response to you asking what he wanted for dinner was the wrong move— he knew you hated when he didn’t help your indecisiveness.
was it the movie he picked for movie night on your hangout? fuck, that might've been it, you totally hate the main actor. how could he have forgotten?
either way, he’s dead set on the fact he did something to piss you off and now you won’t even greet him good morning.
later in the afternoon, you find a cute little basket on your doorstep containing your favorite flowers, your favorite snacks… and an apology note??
“dick,” you message, “what’s going on?”
he doesn’t reply back. instead, he calls you.
before you can even greet him, his voice chimes in with a whole spiel you didn't expect to be hit with.
“i messed up. i know i did and i should've done better. and i’m so sorry, i wanna make this work and i just— from the bottom of my heart— i really, truly apologize—”
you blink several times at your phone before interrupting. “oookay, woah, woah, woah. let's slow down. the fuck are you apologizing for?”
“...your message this morning.” he mumbles out, barely audible. you can hear the pout in his voice somehow.
“what? the one i typed up while rushing to work?” it’s hard to stifle your laughter. “dude, i just woke up a little late. i promise i still love you.”
he doesn't know whether to feel more relieved that you're not actually upset with him or embarrassed about the drastic, immediate measures he took to make things right. things being absolutely nothing, because obviously you weren't gonna be petty over uno rules, nondecisions, or movies.
"you should come over. we can share the snacks if you get here in time." click.
he'll be at your door the minute patrol is done. not for the snacks though it is a nice bonus but to see you. lord knows you need the time together.
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— reblogs always appreciated!
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doki-doki-imagines · 11 months ago
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Can I ask Johnny, Tomas and maybe some others being mind numbingly in love with the reader??
Like theyre so in love they don't know how to act so they always make a fool of themselves and feel so stupid after???
author note: love this prompt. Added Liu Kang so I could write for my 3 fave boys🫶🏻.
Johnny Cage: -He doesn't leave you alone. His eyes always search for yours even for just a brief glance. -Johnny smiles way more around you and also listens to you like the universal truth is flowing from your lips. -Everybody can tell he has a crush on you. The problem is that nobody takes him seriously. -When you talk to Johnny face to face, he totally gets lost looking at your face. He has a dreamy expression and will totally bite his lower lip. -Damn, he doesn't remember a word you said, but he could listen to you the whole day. -Johnny shows off every time you get near him, blabbering on how good he is at everything. How can you not fall for such a dripilicious guy? -"Look at me, I'm winning this for you!" He's gonna lose. -But you can tell his sentiment is pure. Maybe calling it love is a stretch, but Johnny isn't joking…most of the time. -Even if he keeps failing wooing you, Johnny not gonna stop. He doesn't have any shame, so he doesn't mind failing. The moment of dejection always lasts very little.
Tomas Vrbada: -The guy gets obsessed. -He keeps glancing at you, but the moment you look back, Tomas turns his head down like a kid getting caught stealing from the cookie jar. -You fill his brain. Tomas trains? He thinks of you. He eats? He thinks that he'd like to share this delicious food with you. -And damn, when Tomas doesn't have any important mission going on, his mind starts to wander. He is like a schoolgirl jiggling and kicking his feet in the air every time you are just normally kind to him. -The kind that hugs his pillow when sleeping, thinking it is your body. -Tomas is down deep, so deep it reaches his knees, and he can't move. -He is a sweet guy, it happenes to him to stutter and for his cheeks to get tomato red, but Tomas is reaching new peaks. -Once Tomas was talking with Liang at Wu Shi Academy. He turned his head and his grey-ish eyes locked on yours, Tomas then missed a step and fell down the stairs rolling directly at your feet. -Tomas knows he looks like a fool, but it's not like he is doing that on purpose. He'd gladly smash his head against concrete if that would make him go normal. -Thankfully, Tomas will get normal, that you like him back or not, but before reaching that point, there is a long road ahead…
Liu Kang: -After living for so long, after shaping so many timelines, Liu Kang thought to have learnt from his and others' mistakes. -You never have a part in his life, that's why it comes as a surprise when you both start to work together. -It wasn't planned, Liu Kang didn't have to pull any strings. You just…happened. -And something blossomed in Liu Kang's heart, a feeling he once felt but forgot for aeons. -He is in love. -Liu Kang may have lived for centuries, but he didn't gain any rizz. His good boy charm long forgotten since he became a god. He is still nice but much less loose. -And it shows. -Should he give you gifts? But what should he buy? Looking at your life in the hourglass wouldn't be right. But the temptation is high. -At times, Liu Kang is just chatting with you, and something shiver inducing (and not for pleasure) slips out his mouth. Obviously, Liu Kang notices but a minute to late. He'll gladly dig his own grave with his bare hands. -He is so fucking sure one day you'll tell him to stop bothering you. -Liu Kang desire to touch you is immense, but you still haven't reached that point in your relationship. -When you sit next to each other, drinking a hot beverage, every fibre in Liu Kang's body screams to touch you. Tracing the lines of your face with his fingertips, brushing away the hair that hides your face, losing himself in your eyes. -Liu Kang is lovesick. -Every step to make you close is really hard for him, so blinded by his own feelings that he doesn't see that they are reciprocated. -You'll totally need to take the first step.
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scarletwinterxx · 3 months ago
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as long as stars are above you and longer if I can - chwe hansol imagine
hellooo ~ so this was requested and tbh I was also in my vernon brain rot week so here we are😅😅🥺🥺 hope you like it!
if anyone want to be mutuals on X, i'm using the same un there😊
for my other svt fics, check them here
if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)
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Hansol, as many already know, is a man of very few words. He hates useless facts, always talks straight to the point and will only speak when asked. He's the perfect person to spill your secrets to because he'll never talk to anyone else about it.
As a lover, he has his own way to show his feelings for. He loves you in his own ways, he's a savant when it comes to you. You always say he spends that much time being quiet because he's too busy reading your mind
"Admit it, you're a mind reader" you jokingly accuse him
When it comes to you, he'll laugh at the silly little facts. You're his exception.
"Just with you, darling"
You don't even have to say anything, he already knows what you need. He would always know what to say, when to say it, how to say it. He just always knows.
"Sol?" Even in a room full of people and loud noises all around, he heard you. In a flash you have his undivided attention. His conversation with his bestfriends forgotten but they're already used to it. His eyes speaks for him whenever you're around.
"Mhm? You cold, darling?" he asks, already shrugging his jacket off to put it on you. Once you're all bundled up, he takes your hands and blows warm air on it. All you had to do was say his name and he does the rest.
You're hungry? he'll order food for you, doesn't matter if he's with you or not. Your address is registered on his phone, ready to send food deliveries whenever you need or want it.
You coming home late? He'll pick you up or on the rare times he can't, he'll book the taxi himself so he'll know all the details and monitors the trip until he's sure you safely made it home.
You mention your favorite snacks to him? he stocked up on it at home, always making sure to never run out of your favorites.
You need cuddles? he'll be there no matter what time of the day, ready to dot on you and smother you with his love.
He got you all memorized, down to the little details you might not even know about yourself. Like how you always put sanitizer on your hands after touching anything because you hate it smelling like anything else, so he now carries one with him wherever he goes. Or how you pick on your thumb when you're nervous, so when notices this he holds your hand and draw random patterns on your skin to distract you. He even got you a bracelet you can fidget on when he's not around to hold your hand.
Or the fact that you always put your hand inside his pockets, his jackets or jeans or whatever it is. You don't even notice it, you just always do it. So he lets you be.
He loves you so loud, you don't even need words to know. But still, he tells you.
In those vulnerable moments you see all of him, all the emotions he keeps away from everyone else but bares all of it to you.
"Hey, I love you"
You were caught off guard by his sudden declaration of love but it makes you smile nonetheless.
"Suddenly?" you chuckle, you were just cooking ramen as midnight snack and he's here to spend the night with you after having a Harry Potter marathon.
"Where's my I love you too?" he's standing beside you, bumping his shoulder against yours and his head against your own. Like a cat.
"You're cute you know that?" you chuckle, standing on your tiptoe to bump your nose against his "I love you, too"
Then the of you continue on what you're doing.
That's how it's like loving Hansol, he shows he loves, tells you he loves, makes you feel he loves you every second you're with him. Even in silence, his love screams so loud you'll never forget it.
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