#character x reader kinda
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altkys · 3 months ago
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I’m trying to listen to songs for my fake scenarios and they go so hard my stupid brain focuses on the lyrics and not what character A is saying to my oc 😔😔
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xitsensunmoon · 4 months ago
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"Old habits die hard"
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queenendless · 4 months ago
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ARISE
A/n: As we are now in a new year, time to write on some new fandoms.
Rewatched S1 dubbed — and yes Aleks Le as Sung Jinwoo is the reason why cause he's so damn fine~! Listen to his voice as you read this, I insist! I just need to get my Sung Jinwoo fix. Therefore—
Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x F!Adult!Reader
CW: Explicit 21+ MATURE content inside. SOME SPOILERS but not much. Morning smut, implied mentions of suicide, reader got reincarnated as a humanoid magic beast and serves Jinwoo now.
DON'T PLAGARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY FANFIC WORK. Rather reblog like and follow pls n thx.
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"Wakey wakey." That teasing low purr in the crook of your neck had you giggling tiredly as the ticklish sensation pulled you out of slumber. Spooning you from behind, his legs entangled with yours, Jinwoo breathes in your scent, sucking tenderly. Taking his enormous hand that rested on your hip into yours, just to play with his fingers, made him smile.
“Don't go.” You murmur, raising that hand to brush petal soft pecks to his knuckles.
"Come on, now. I gotta get ready." His slurred gruffness were telltale signs he was in no hurry.
"The world is your kingdom now, Jinwoo. It'll still be there tomorrow." Your reassurance meant you curled further into your side of the bed, the tendrils of slumber creeping back in. His deep chuckle trailed butterfly pecks from your cheek, down the pane of your neck, then up to your ear. "Stay here with me, please."
"Even the Shadow Monarch needs to lead his guild." His words were one thing. His wandering hands were another story. "But, if you rather keep me in bed all day, I suppose you could persuade me." His very presence chased away the bitter freezing loneliness you were accustomed to, submerging you in his comfortable burning embrace.
"God, you're something else." You turned in his grasp, finally able to face him and shower him with your smooches, such smitteness brought warmth blooming within him. Not to mention his bulge rubbing against your crotch sent sparks shooting through you both.
Flashes of memories surfaced in your mind. Such a whiplash it is that the most powerful hunter in this world that you personally witness slaughtering every beast and human that dares stand in his way, soaked in their blood, could be the very same man that held such requited smoldering endearment for you.
The butterflies and flips occurring inside from every gaze, touch and word given are always worth it.
"God has been long gone from this world ... just Rulers and Monarchs now ... and yours is beside himself. To think his favorite beast on the streets ... is a lamb in the sheets~" That rumbling deep voice roughly heaved in between kisses. Opening your mouth so willingly had him grinning against you as his velvety tongue entangled yours, lost in the thralls of the passionate dance within. “My favorite~”
His sculpted hands slithered underneath your top, lightly brushing up against your sides, then your tummy. One hand stayed to fondle your cushiony mounds; he never gets tired of feeling you up.
"A human from another world ... reborn as a humanoid magic beast." Pinching, pulling and rubbing your pearls between his long sly fingers had you melting as your muffled mewling grew frequent. “Failed by those closest to you, abandoned to that pain and fear … a kindred soul.”
His other sly hand slips under your undies, cupping your dripping sex. Your moaning had him smirking as he nibbled your bottom lip in tune with his thumb insistently rubbing your clit and the tips of his fingers brushing around your cunt. "Isn't this what you wanted? To be touched by me? Your beloved King?"
"Mmm yes~" His voice always got you going, especially when those four fingers filled you up well, curling and scissoring in their trek straight to your burning core. "Aaah~" Your hips rutting into his hand got him bricked up through his sweatpants. "Nngh~" Wringing your hands through those dark messy locks and stroking along his shaved undercut got him trembling, all to reel him in and keep you as grounded as you could currently be in your haze filled state. "Don't stop~"
"So touch starved." Your sharp gasp was the sign he reached your bundle of nerves, prodding it with such vigor, stuffing you right up to his wrist, lathered up in your cream. “To let me be the first and only one to shower you with such devotion ... I'll forever be grateful for that blessing." Tears of ecstasy leave your e/c eyes and he kisses them away, his ebony bangs tickling your moaning burning face, the flames of passion stoked for you as you come undone. "My Queen~"
His creamy hand then pulled right out of your valley, leaving you desperately wanting him to fill up your emptiness. Your faith got restored, however, as he pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside, revealing the chiseled marble sculpture that is his physique.
He knows the sight alone makes your mouth water. Your hands traversed the panes of his soft firm pecs, that thick neck, those broad shoulders, even these sculpted biceps that flexed as his daily tasked push ups came with the added benefit of pushing down to your laying form, being enthralled by your rewarding kisses. Such reliable stability beneath that lean stature of resilience.
Your own eyes burned with the glow of enchantment, the image of who he used to be versus who he has become reminded you of yourself. How the physical and mental scars that plagued your old life for years on end shaped you into who you have become. A magic beast serving the Shadow Monarch. What a pairing.
His cream coated hand slips under his own waistband, pulling his beast free from its confines, using your cum as his lube to be more prepared.
His other hand cupped under your knee, draping your leg over his shoulder. "Wouldn't you rather I give you tongue~?" That low toned growl already got your other leg willingly draped over his other broad shoulder already as that mouth sunk into your wet folds.
“Yes love~!” Ripping such a concupiscent symphony outta your mouth. His other hand couldn't help but jack off to your venereal cries. The scorching presence his mouth gave as the starvation had him ravaging, suckling as much as making out with your now squirting folds.
His cheeks filled with your essence, dexterously aiming his tongue to drive you further up the tower of sins. Your spasming hips only buried his face deeper in, inhaling your scent as his nose got pushed in your pubes, his light yet sturdy weight. Those lidded silver eyes flashed violet as their predatory gaze marveled in your sweaty flushed expressions due to his ravenous gorging, your voice shrieking as you unloaded, his creamy covered lips curling swallowing gratefully.
“You're truly decadent.”
Your body and soul trembled in anticipation for what's to come; your legs falling off his shoulders to hug his firm hips. So did him, leading his dick slowly into your loosened yet smothering grip. "Let me make love to you." He grunted, you sucking him up as greedily as his cock started into the slow steady rhythm stroking your creamy grip.
“Fuck me! Please~! Don't stop~! Don't ever stop!” Your unhinged shouts of passion hit his ear as you hugged his neck, his own hot breath hitting your shoulder as he picked up the lace into the feverish fueled tapping; skin squelching and smacking noises bouncing off the walls.
“Fuck~! You’re heaven incarnate~!” Your sob filled yell riled up his necessity to bust his nuts in you even more. His feral groans in response had you squeezing him in a vice state, marking the side of his neck into a bruising suck, drawing scratches along his chiseled shoulder blades.
His own fingers dug into your rolling hips, finger shaped bruises painting your skin in kind, while his sharp teeth marked along your shoulder and neck, marking you as his and his alone, raising you further to the apex.
“I’ll fuck you until the world ends. This needy pussy deserves to be ravaged every waking moment. Every inch of you is mine to worship. Your beautiful womb filled up with my seed. That's my dream. To have you as my wife. To raise a family together. To make you Mrs. Sung!”
“Yes, Jin~! Yes~!” Your choked up agreement got lost in the sloppy, tongue filled kisses as you came a third in a row, making a cum circle around his shaft, painting his rippling thighs and the once pure sheets.
Your orgasmic greeting met with his, shooting right into your womb quite thickly, lifting you in his shredded grasp, externally and internally. Thrusting his still oozing libido into your heavenly valley like a madman to chase that euphoric high.
Your head limply rested on his shoulder like a pillow, fatigued mewls spilling out as the burning weight of his essence settled into your abdomen. Carefully setting you down on the bed, Jinwoo collapsed on his side, heaving slowly and deeply, his dazed eyes gazing at yours, glowing radiantly as the sunlight slipping in outlined your form.
Still submerged in you, now limp dicked, his muscular arm draped over you, pulling you both closer, all to have you curling into his slickened torso, breathing in your intermingled scent.
“Now call in sick.” Your weak request got him chuckling deeply.
“I will in a bit.” Curling your cascading hair through his fingertips, he caressed your pretty head, allowing the tranquil silence to linger.
“I love you, Y/n. So damn much. Thank you for being in my life, in this moment, and for the rest of our reign to come.” His whole being enveloped you in his bear hug of an embrace, drawing in your shared taste through an endearing kiss.
“I love you too, Jin. So damn much.” Your voice fluttered from the swelling of emotion taking hold on your heart, as you couldn't help but fall into the routine of peppering smooches all over that beautifully precious face of his.
“I'll love you. In this life and the next. Until the end of it all.” He vowed to you as you succumbed to sleep once again, smiling softly at your face, kissing your sweet lips once more before reaching out behind him for his phone, sending a quick text to Yoo Jinho about his impromptu work absence. His brother in arms was A-okay about, already suspecting fooling around with you being the reason why.
Jinwoo's next text was him dubbing Jinho as his best man at your upcoming wedding, already looking forward to seeing you on that sacred day, followed up by quite the steamy honeymoon.
He was already anticipating your future together, basking in the early morning, setting his phone aside as it filled with the following texts of congrats and excitement from his little bro, before joining you in the confines of dreams, cocooned in your shared comfy warmth, watched on by his shadow army in the corner, silently cheering for their master’s engagement with their future Queen Regnant.
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livelaughlovesubs · 4 days ago
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I had a super cute (?) Idea today I gotta share this
Imagine a vibrator that is connected to an app on your phone, but to make it move, you have to press a button. Not like an on/off button, but that it only moves when your finger’s on the button. So, if you don’t press it anymore, it stops vibrating.
That, and you convince your partner to wear it inside him under his clothes. Saying something like: “I’ll press it whenever I think of you ♡” before both of you go about your day.
Then throughout the day, you’d just randomly press the button every time you think of him, before letting go and going back to your usual routine. And he’s just shaking trying to hold back a moan at some place, yet feeling fuzzy at being ‘notified’ you just thought of him.
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dreamyblanket · 2 months ago
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Imagine cuddling between shadow milk and pure vanilla...it would be so nice!
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Comfy....
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miwachan2 · 4 months ago
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HOLY WATER - Part 1
Part 2
⚠️Hypnosis/mind control, suggestive undertones (?) ( these warnings only apply for part 1 )
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thatwhisperer · 4 months ago
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— – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – -
In the Lab…
Fic type-> NSFW + Drabble
Tags-> Sub Jayce, bottom jayce, degrading kink, kinda exhibitionism? both parties get off on getting caught, gn reader but they have smth to fuck him with whatever that might be lol, choking
Word count-> 705, about two pages of a book
AN-> I’m alive it’s a miracle! Anyways there’s not enough sub or bottom jayce fics just saying 🤷‍♀️. And as always, requests open!
Second Part! | AO3 | Masterlist
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It was Jayce’s idea. Not yours.
Honestly, blowing his back out in the lab wasn’t really what you had in mind when you said you wanted to try something new. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before- just this time it was in his lab, over his workbench, scarily close to the door. It didn’t help that Jayce didn’t know how to shut up during sex.
“Yes, yes- fuck!”
You apply more pressure against his wrists held behind his back, pressing him further into metal workbench- a silent warning.
“Jayce.” A hushed tone compared to his strained cries.
“‘m sorry, jus��� too good…”
You tug his trousers further down his ass since his loose belt buckle was clinking against the bench with every thrust.
You glance towards the door.
“Gah- god-“
You watch as his face distorts into one of pleasure as you’d just adjusted the angle of your movements.
“If you don’t know how to shut up-“
“Make me.”
His comment surprised you, he didn’t sound bratty when he said it. And no, he’s too good to disobey you. He sounded desperate for it. Like he needed you to keep him under control, even if he was perfectly capable of keeping quiet himself.
So you lean in, and let your breath caress his tanned shoulder blades.
“Oh, is that what this is all about then huh? Riling me up, teasing me?”
He hesitates before he answers,
“…no, please that’s… it’s not-“
You hook your hand over his mouth, only muffling his moans to your disappointment. He felt a jolt of electricity shoot down to his dick, smearing more pre against the underside of the workbench.
“This is what you wanted isn’t it? Getting me to slut you out in the lab in hopes of, what- getting caught?”
He could only moan into your hand as you pull him up so his head rests on your shoulder, his hair splaying out across it.
“You’re such a whore, who are you imagining walking through that door right now huh?”
You turn your head towards his ear letting your breath hit it, eyes flitting up briefly. You only grin.
“Is it Mel? Or perhaps Viktor?”
You let go of his mouth and instead opting for his neck to hold onto for leverage.
“Both-“
“Both? And what would they do if they saw you like this? Man Of Progress against his own workbench, taking dick like a bitch huh?”
Jayce can’t help but groan at the idea, someone so close to him walking in on such a scene.
“Come on, what would they do…”
You grip his hip harshly to re-adjust your position slightly, his mouth drops open and his now free hands flailing to try to bring you ever closer to him. You know you hit the spot with each thrust too when he stammers before he replies.
“I-I don’t know-“
“I think they’d like it, someone finally having the guts to fuck all that arrogance out of you.”
As you talk you sneak in kisses along his jawline and neck, even leaving one dark mark along the side of his neck.
He whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut, imagining Mel’s and Viktor’s sneering faces. Perhaps they’d be muttering between each other as they stare at him like he’s a common whore.
“Just- fuck- I’m gonna cum.”
“You gonna cum ‘round my cock and I haven’t even touched you yet.”
“Please, please let me cum- I’ll be-“
“Good? You gonna be good if I let you cum?”
“Mmhmmm…”
“Well… go on, be a good boy and cum for me.”
Like the flick of a switch he arches his back into you and cums across the underside of his workbench, your final few thrusts making it smear all along his dick afterwards.
You feel him go fairly pliant against you as his heavy breathing gets gradually slower, his eyelids slip closed.
You simply smile as you hold his jaw and tilt it away from you. He lets it loll to the side like you want as he pries his eyes open.
Of course Mel and Viktor are standing in the doorway, and of course they both look rather flustered.
— – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – -
Part 2
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mqriuss · 5 months ago
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written in lucky stars
synopsis 。。。rindou doesn't know what to do with all the origami stars you give him. he doesn't have the heart to throw them away, so he buys a jar to hold them when the stars—and memories—start piling up.
contents: rindou x fem!reader, childhood friends, perceived unrequited love, death & grief, unnamed illness, non-linear
playlist
note: girl i don't even know if rindou is still in character throughout the story, i just started vomiting words. hope you guys will still like this tho lol
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𖤐 "hi rindou! i wonder if you'll even read this. if you see this, say 'star' tomorrow when we meet."
"what's this?" rindou gave you a puzzled look, eyes darting between you and the small origami lucky star in your palm.
"a star," you answered him innocently, making him deadpan at you.
"obviously, i know that." he rolled his eyes. "i just meant... what's it for?"
"it's not for anything," you trailed off, his words making you think. you couldn't let him find out you wrote something on the inner parts of the folded paper star. it'd be more fun if he found out himself, you thought. "i just made it and wanted to give it to someone. you're the only person i can think of."
rindou's gaze returned to the star. he's definitely seen them before—probably in kindergarten or elementary school, but he's never actually received one. you were gifting it to him, he understood that much. so he took it from you, albeit hesitantly.
not because he didn't want it, he just didn't know what to do with it.
"you can throw it away later if you want," you said, as if hearing his thoughts.
there's no way rindou could do that though.
rindou kept the star in his pocket. when he returned home that day, he pursed his lips at the sight of the now flattened star. he was just glad it didn't tear. he placed the star on his desk, not sparing it another thought.
the next day came, and rindou never said the word "star."
𖤐 "so you didn't open the star to read it? aw. i wonder what would happen if i said i liked you."
a week passed since the first star you handed him. you had accepted that he either threw it away or just didn't read it. you supposed rindou wouldn't be the type to think, "i wonder if anything is written in this tiny origami star. i should unfold it and find out." so really, what were you expecting?
perhaps giving him another star would get him curious?
"here." you pushed your hand towards him when you met him by the school gates.
"another one?" he raised an eyebrow at you, taking out one of his earphones.
you chuckled, "get used to it. i'll give you one when..." you trailed off, and rindou looked at you expectantly. "whenever i feel like it!"
he sighed, taking the star from you wordlessly before heading to class. every now and then, he'd glance over his shoulder—just to make sure you were still walking with him.
nothing interesting happened the next day. you gave him another few days, and there was still nothing. it seemed he didn't know about what you wrote... or did he find out, but he was just purposely ignoring it?
oh well, there was no point in dwelling on it. the world kept spinning.
𖤐 "third time's the charm. i'm getting bullied again by takeo and his friends lately."
you, in fact, were not getting bullied by takeo and his friends.
the last time it happened was years ago. it wasn't as if you were lying for rindou's attention, but you wanted confirmation that he absolutely never opens these paper stars. you knew for sure he'd give some kind of reaction if you mentioned takeo.
the memory was almost clear as crystal. origami papers on your desk, takeo sitting in front of you, lunch break, a half-empty classroom, and no teachers around.
throughout elementary school, takeo had always been a bully and a tease to whoever he felt like targeting. you weren't a special case to him, he just didn't like the way you always sat quietly, playing with the toys you made out of origami papers.
takeo tore your origami papers because he felt like doing it. he crushed your paper cranes because he felt like doing it. he crumpled them and threw them in your contorted face because he felt like doing it. he laughed at the tears you tried to hold back because he just felt like doing it.
unfortunately for him, rindou pushed him to the ground because, well, he felt like doing it.
you didn't even know who rindou was at the time. he was in the same year but different class, though you've heard about his brother, haitani ran—your senior. not long after rindou had pushed takeo to the floor and stomped on his hand, ran came strolling in to your class.
"nice, rindou." he grinned widely at his younger brother before they both turned to you. "takeo's so lame, isn't he?" ran said, picking up the paper crane takeo crushed earlier.
you were unresponsive, which was fine—they weren't really expecting anything. while ran didn't think to do any more for you than give you a tissue to wipe your tears with, rindou couldn't help eyeing your torn origami papers.
"let's go, rindou. you'll be late for your next class," ran reminded him, making his way out. he stopped in his tracks when he noticed rindou wasn't budging.
"your papers..." rindou muttered under his breath, but it was coherent enough for you to hear. ran watched for a moment before he decided to head out first.
"it's okay. i can still use them." you sniffled, rubbing your nose a little before taking a torn piece of origami paper.
"how? you can't make birds with that, right?" he tilted his head. "it's way too thin."
he watched as you grabbed a pair of scissors from your pencil case. when you started cutting the strip of paper to make it slightly thinner, rindou tilted his head in confusion. but before he can say anything, you had began folding. you made a knot and created a small pentagon shape, wrapping it over and over until there was not enough paper left to fold. the real magic happened when you used your fingers to pinch at the points of the pentagon, puffing up its shape to create a star.
that day after classes came to an end, rindou had used some of his pocket money to buy you a new set of origami paper.
𖤐 "i always thought you looked cool playing basketball, y'know? i'm just too shy to tell you. i also like when you sit next to me after you're done playing."
rindou noticed the star is a lot... puffier than usual. unbeknownst to him, it was just because you had more words to write at the time.
sweat trickled down rindou's forehead as he gulped down half of the water from his bottle. the puppy sticker you had pasted on it a long time ago was still there, it's a little faded—probably from all the washing it's been through. seeing it always warmed your heart, and you couldn't help but tease him about it sometimes.
"why don't you just scrub it off? it's hanging by a thread at this point," you questioned him. rindou exhaled deeply as he put down the bottle, panting slightly.
"i don't know. it's just there." he shrugged and you huffed at his dry response.
"seriously? i thought you didn't like that sticker."
"i never said that," rindou denied almost immediately. "did it... seem that way?" he added, his hesitance made you laugh.
"so you like the sticker? is that why you kept it?"
"no."
"then why do you keep it?"
rindou sighed, almost groaning at your questions. "i dunno, okay? it just won't come off," he claimed as he stuffed his towel and water bottle into his bag. "now, get up. i'm walking you home."
you followed him suit in silence for a while, a small smile lingering on your face. "i saw you finally scored a three-pointer, by the way."
rindou flashed you a cocky grin. "yeah? looked cool, right?"
"hm, i think you looked cooler when i saw you missing three shots in a row in your backyard."
"oh, shut up. why were you even at my place yesterday?"
"i wanted to try your mom's cookies."
𖤐 "it's getting a little hard to breathe, rin. i don't maybe it's 'cause you're so breathtaking!"
rindou never really liked it when you walked tailing behind him. he felt more at ease when you were beside him instead, even better if you were on the inner part of the sidewalk.
at times, he'd find you walking slow—too slow for his liking. there were normally two reactions to this. the first, he would grab your wrist and pull you with him. rindou didn't need to do it too hard, he just wanted to make sure you were still with him. the second, he would simply let you, but not without looking back to check every now and then. it usually happens when you were strolling around the neighbourhood. he hid it well whenever he worried about you, but why he felt that way to begin with was a question mark to even himself.
he always tried to convince himself that it's just because you were a klutz, but it didn't feel entirely right.
as time went on, you grew close enough for him to tease and play around with you more. in a friendly way, of course. he was always careful not to take things too far. after all, he didn't want to be one of the reasons for your tears.
so when you were walking particularly slow one day—your three steps equating to his one single step, rindou purposely walked faster. you were just in the neighbourhood, so he wasn't worried about anything bad happening.
"bet you can't catch me!" he called out, a cocky grin stretching from ear to ear.
and you really did try.
you could still run. you could still run fast enough to catch up to rindou's speed-walking, but his speed-walking turned to running. you knew you couldn't be as fast as him, but you didn't think you'd have to stop so soon to catch your breath.
your hands had found your knees as you bent, head pounding slightly. concern flashed across rindou's face when he could no longer hear your footsteps. when he came rushing back to you, you gave him a grin.
"i know better than to try you in a race, rindou. you'd surely win!" you laughed. you laughed, but rindou felt unsettled.
he blinked at you, handing you his water bottle. "here," he said, and you blinked at him too. rindou urged you to take it as he nodded.
you took the half-empty bottle in your hand, eyeing it hesitantly. twisting the cap open, you tilted it for a sip, pressing your lips against the spot where his had just been. the thought immediately spread warmth across your cheeks, contrasting the cool liquid traveling down your throat.
he was blushing too, but you wouldn't know with his back turned to you. "don't stay up too late. you need the energy if you wanna keep up with me."
rindou held your hand for the first time that day, and he didn't let go until you returned home.
𖤐 "i told myself i'd confess after we graduated junior high, but i guess i haven't changed. i'm still a coward."
by the end of junior high, rindou's jar was starting to pile up with all the paper stars you gave him. he had bought it when he received his tenth star. it wasn't a big jar so it didn't take long to fill—it was almost full and rindou had lost count of how many you'd made.
you were also spending an awful lot more time at his place than usual, and even started getting along with ran better.
by the end of junior high, you made a decision to tell him. tell him that you like him, straight to his face. it's clear that he never unraveled any of the stars to read the tiny letters written on them, so you thought, it's about time you told him soon.
and yet, the words never came out.
"i..." you said, trying to ignore his expectant look. "i hope we do well in high school together," you blurted out instead of your confession, preparing yourself for rindou's laughing fit over how corny you were being. his laughs never came out.
instead, he nodded. he simply nodded.
"you gonna give me another star?" he asked. he began to expect it now, the origami lucky stars.
you broke into a fond, gentle smile at his words. your right hand went down to your blazer's pocket, fishing out a paper star. slightly bigger than the ones you usually gave him.
"the strip of paper was thicker for this one. it's a special day after all." you chuckled, placing the star on rindou's already outstretched hand.
𖤐 "i miss you a lot, rindou. but you shouldn't miss me too much, okay? hehe <3"
rindou had no idea he'd be going to high school without you.
he remembered you clearly telling him you'd go to the same school as him. well, you more so implied it. your idle chatter with rindou normally took place at school during break, or after school when you're sitting on the bleachers before heading home together, but also on his rooftop whenever the weather was good enough to stargaze under.
"i'm not so excited for high school," rindou had said one time, making you tear your gaze away from the sparkling night sky.
"why?" you questioned and he deadpanned at you.
"maths will be harder, obviously." his response elicited a laugh from you.
"you'll be fine! i'll pay extra attention in class and take notes for us to go over together," you reassured him.
but here you were, nowhere to be seen.
he only got the news about you transferring schools after the semester started. admittedly, he was a little bit pissed. could you not have told him beforehand?
rindou couldn't be upset for too long though. you still visited his house every week and as usual, you gave him a star.
and as usual, he'd never unfold them. as usual, they went straight to his jar.
every week turned to every day—you were always with him, always coming over to his place after his classes ended. even rindou didn't have all that free time, but you were okay with it. most days, you preferred to lie in his bed and do nothing, maybe fall asleep for a while. you rarely wanted to go out and do anything now, claiming that you just wanted to hang around here.
when he asked you why, your answer was something along the lines of, "i like it better here." and it never failed to alarm him.
you always refused to tell him any more than that.
the last time you came over to his place, there were plenty of moments when rindou thought you were acting weird.
the first instance was when he was in the bathroom, you were inside his mom's bedroom while she was cooking in the kitchen. he would know, because just as he was coming out, you came out of the room at the same time. rindou always thought it was an unspoken rule to not go into each other's parents' bedrooms because it was... odd, yet you were acting like you did nothing of the sort.
the second weird thing you did was hug his brother. even ran didn't have the slightest idea of what was going on, but he played along smoothly, teasing you for "preferring him over rindou."
rindou couldn't even bring himself to be jealous. he couldn't bother himself with asking why ran got to hug you first and not him. he especially couldn't when you immediately retreated to his room after eating dinner with him and his family at the table. you've been in his room before though, so that wasn't the weirdest part.
the weird part was when you grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down onto the bed with you.
you were laughing the hardest he's ever heard you laugh in the past few months. "look at your face, it's so red!" you may have laughed too hard though, and you started coughing a little bit.
"quit it, what the hell are you doing?" rindou exclaimed, flustered. he meant for his words to come out lightheartedly, but fell silent when he realized his tone was a bit too harsh for his liking.
despite that, the smile you wore remained unwavering.
you nuzzled your head into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. "can we stay like this for a while?" you asked, and instead of an answer, he wordlessly draped a blanket over both of your bodies before snuggling a little closer.
"what's up with you today, hm?" rindou questioned, his eyes becoming droopy and his words a little slurred.
"nothing. just missed you," you answered, closing your eyes.
"you saw me yesterday."
"i wish i could see you every day though."
rindou raised an eyebrow. "but you have been coming over every day," he said, and you chuckled at his words.
"i might not get to do this all the time, y'know? what if i make plans or have other places to be in?"
that much is obvious, rindou thought as he pursed his lips. your words had sent him deep into thought, and he found himself imagining things he didn't want to think about. his pounding heart took over his senses for a moment.
rindou is a teenager after all, so the thought had finally crossed his mind that day—is this what it was like to have someone special to you? to hold them close, walk with them hand-in-hand, and feel the need to shield them from anything that would harm them? to want them to stay in your life forever?
you both had fallen silent, it remained that way for a few minutes. the only thing you could hear was the sound of each other's soft breathing. rindou had wondered if you were thinking of him too, the way he thought of you.
"you didn't give me a star today."
your eyes fluttered open at his words to look up at him. he had a neutral expression on, but in your mind, he kind of resembled a wet puppy.
"did you want one?" you teased, a grin appearing on your face when he rolled his eyes.
"you started giving me one every day these past few weeks," he said, jogging your memory. "and you haven't given me one today, so i was just wondering."
"aw, so you noticed." your hand found its way to his cheek. rindou visibly froze and reddened at your gesture, and his eyes widened when your gaze travelled down to his lips. "i might have... something better than a paper star," you whispered, leaning closer to softly press your lips against his.
he was wide-eyed when you kissed him, your hand slightly cold against his cheek. but rindou quickly melted into the kiss once he'd processed what you were doing. tilting his head and placing a hand behind your head, he deepened the kiss and let out a sigh of contentment.
you were acting weird again, he thought. but maybe you really were better than paper stars.
perhaps it was the thrill of having his first kiss, but he found himself looking forward to seeing you again after you left.
much to his dismay, rindou wouldn't hear from you again since that day.
everything feels blurry now.
rindou doesn't respond when spoken to, not even when people tell him that they're "sorry for his loss." even when your mother had gasped earlier upon finding out that he had no idea about your illness, all rindou could do was nod or shake his head, as though words had abandoned him completely. his expression so lifeless, you'd think the funeral was for him.
the words are barely coherent as your mother explains what happened to you. again, all he could do was nod. wordlessly. absentmindedly. he's in another world, forcing ran to do all the talking and responding for him.
rindou hates seeing the way you look right now. laying in the cramped casket when you should be lying next to him on his bed. your hands placed on your stomach when they should be cupping his cheeks. and your eyes closed when they should be looking into his, letting him admire the way they glimmer. the thought that they would look hollow if pried open now sends a chill down his spine.
he's known for most of his life that everyone's time would come eventually, inevitably. to be human means to be impermanent. to have life, death needed to coexist. he knows all of that already, but why? why did your time have to come so quickly? why couldn't he know about this sooner?
did you disappear for a week to prepare him for this exact moment? to prepare him for a life without you? he wonders hopelessly.
just when things start to become clearer, just when he figures out that you're the person he wants in his life, everything becomes muddy again. what was he supposed to do now? the thought of moving on felt impossible at this moment, couldn't he just go with you?
your mother approaches him with a small drawstring pouch in her hands. she doesn't say anything at first as she simply opens the pouch, and rindou feels slightly more grounded upon seeing its contents.
more origami stars.
"rindou," your mother speaks up. "y/n wanted me to give these to you, and she wanted you to do something with them."
rindou fishes out the pouch from his pocket before taking his blazer off in a hurry, discarding it somewhere in his room. he sits down at his desk, opens the pouch, and dumps all of the paper stars out in front of him. he goes over them for a while, recalling your mother's instructions.
"save the purple star for last."
picking out the purple-coloured star, he sets it to the side. rindou takes a random star and begins unraveling the origami.
he's met with words you had written with a black pen. though your handwriting was legible enough to read, he couldn't understand the message. his eyebrows furrow as he mumbles the words to himself.
𖤐 "doesn't she sound cute? she loved to stargaze like we did!"
rindou frantically opens another star, but is careful not to rip it.
𖤐 "i saw that lucky stars are usually gifts to symbolize good luck, love, and support."
he grows even more confused. were you seriously leaving him behind with a puzzle to solve?
𖤐 "did you know? the origins of lucky stars began with a tale of a girl named hoshi."
he opens another. the message written is far more alarming, causing him to tense up.
𖤐 "but no matter how many stars i fold, i can't seem to save myself."
it didn't take him long to react, he was immediately unraveling every single star. except for the purple one.
his eyes lit up when he found a message that seemed to match one of those he previously opened.
seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to at least two hours. rindou has never found himself cooped up in his room for this long that even ran began to notice his brother's absence.
"not having dinner? mom's gonna be mad that you ignored her calling you downstairs." ran leans against the door frame with his arms crossed, watching his brother go through every strip of paper, mixing and matching them.
"i'll eat later."
ran raises an eyebrow, uncrossing his arms as he entered the room. he looks over rindou's shoulder for a few moments and his mind begins to process what he's doing.
"this one goes here, no?" ran points to a strip of paper, making rindou pause. the latter blinks and tries his brother's suggestion.
the next few minutes go by faster with ran's help. rindou feels confident about the order now and sits back, going over the entire message.
𖤐 "hi, rindou! if you're reading this, you probably already know what happened to me."
𖤐 "i wonder how much you'll miss me. if you see your basketball moving on its own, just know it's my ghost! hehe."
𖤐 "anyway, i saw that lucky stars are usually gifts to symbolize good luck, love, and support."
𖤐 "so if you wondered why i gave you so much of them, i guess i just wanted to show how much i cherished you."
𖤐 "i don't think you ever opened them to read the messages though, but i'm not hurt by it!"
𖤐 "i'm mostly glad 'cause i know you never wanted to ruin them."
𖤐 "did you know? the origins of lucky stars began with a tale of a girl named hoshi."
𖤐 "doesn't she sound cute? she loved to stargaze like we did!"
𖤐 "one night, she saw the stars began to fall during a meteor shower and she was sad about the stars falling."
𖤐 "so she started folding paper stars because she believed it would save each star that fell."
𖤐 "but the stars kept falling so she got the help of other children in the village and they folded stars together."
𖤐 "they folded thousands of paper stars and soon, the night sky began to shine with stars again."
𖤐 "i really liked the story, it was the thing that kept me going besides our friendship."
𖤐 "i wanted to believe i could live a little longer and be saved, just like the stars in the story."
𖤐 "and i like to think that we're both stars. you always shined so bright to me, rindou."
𖤐 "your glow was quite contagious too, but i think my light is slowly dimming."
𖤐 "no matter how many stars i fold, i can't seem to save myself."
𖤐 "i lo you can open the final star now!"
rindou reaches out for the purple lucky star to unfold it, but not without squinting at the scribbled letters on the last star.
𖤐 "go to your mom's bedroom. look under the cushion of her window seat."
rindou only realizes now that ran had left his room a while ago, but he pays it no mind. he rushes to his mother's room, entering without knocking. "rindou?" she says, startled. he doesn't respond as he makes his way to the window seat, pushing the pillows to the side and lifting up the cushion. nothing.
he lifts the other side of the cushion and finds a usb flash drive hidden underneath it.
rindou takes it and places the pillows back in their original spot before dashing out of the room. "close the door!" his mom reminds him, and he does just that before going back to his room.
he immediately plugs the usb to his pc to find just one file. it seems to be a voice recording titled, "to rindou." he wastes no time clicking on it.
"hey... i didn't want to write this one down, because i really wished i could have told you in person." the sound of your voice plays on his computer, and his heart twists upon hearing you again. "i love you, rindou—and i don't just mean it as a friend. i'm sure you know that already but i had to reassure you just in case."
"it's okay if you don't feel the same, but if you do..." he doesn't miss the subtle way your voice cracked, and you paused before shakily continuing. "i'll be really happy. i'll be leaving with many regrets, but you'll never be one of them. i lived a good life knowing i had you."
as your voice recording comes to end, his room is silent. it's silent until he hears the faint sound of something dripping on his table. it was only then he became aware of the saltiness on the corner of his cracked lip, and the tears staining his cheeks.
everyday, rindou would unfold one star.
it's become a routine now, and he was nearly halfway through the jar. he'd wake up and the first thing he does is walk to his desk and read a message you left behind. he'd check the time on his phone after doing so. he didn't care if he was running late for something—you're a priority even though you're no longer with him.
ran notices this new routine as well at some point. perhaps it was rindou's way of grieving, he thought.
everyday, rindou would make a lucky star. writing your name and the date on the strip of paper before folding it into a star. despite knowing you couldn't be saved with lucky stars like in the tale, he hoped that you could be more at peace, knowing that he still thought about you, still loved you, and that it would never change.
occasionally, he'd write other things on them the way you used to. words he never got to say to you in person.
𖤐 "i actually really liked the sticker you put on my bottle back in junior high. so i never took it off."
every year, rindou visits you at least twice. on your birthday and your death anniversary. every time he did, he'd sit in front of your tombstone and fold ten lucky stars for you. he doesn't know why he makes ten of them either, it just felt right. it felt like a number you'd choose.
at some point, rindou thought he'd give you all the stars in the night sky one day, but you beat him to it.
sometimes, he still wished you could've come back that day when you left him with an abundance of stars. real or paper, it didn't matter. you didn't need to come back with thousands of stars. there was only one you, and that would've been enough.
but as long as he had the jar of stars you gave him, and strips of origami paper to make more, your light could never dim. you were brighter than any star he's ever seen.
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solacefish · 26 days ago
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plagued with kitty trait sebastian again.
he who curls himself up so tight, rests a head on your leg when he wants a shred of your attention and is too embarrassed to say a word of it, too nervous to percieve and ask. who lets out the softest rumble from the pit of his chest when you bury a hand in his hair and ever so gently scratch his scalp.
he who readjusts himself, to be half over you, softly kneading at whatever skin his claws and pawpads can get ahold of. from slow blinking to barely ever opening his eyes - he's so tired, and you know it. he lets out little sound and has little twitches in his sleep, you can relax him so easily by reaching a hand and gently stroking him. just like mama.
you can't forget about the little sound he makes when it's time to wake up, obviously he mrrps. looking at you with the biggest glowing blue eyes known to man. he loves you enough.
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colourstreakgryffin · 1 year ago
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I had a silly idea, what about an Cheshire Cat!reader x Alastor? (Feel free not to do this dearie ( ·∀·) )
Haha. OMFG. A Cheshire Cat would really match with Alastor well! So, thank you, Lady Beelzebub! I’ll try this out!
Alastor- A Little Game
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Vaggie has been so frustrated. Charlie has been trying to ease the crew. Husk is on the verge of murdering somebody. Niffty is annoyed that her cleaning equipment is gone. Angel is quite amused by what’s going on and Alastor is very invested in the cause
Lately, the Hazbin Hotel has been dealing with a suddenly appearing invisible menace causing pranks after pranks nonstop; locking or trapping up doors, stealing items and storing them high up, whispering out in the halls at night
Alastor didn’t suspect he’d ever run into the culprit of all this trouble but he has. After Charlie had been giving Vaggie a calmdown pep talk, the Princess politely asked Alastor to check around the hallways for any more prank remnants, the Overlord did so, just to see what he may find… and he made a incredible discovery
A floating cat-like sinner with magenta and pink colouring, most importantly, a big Cheshire wide grin. A rival of Alastor’s own smile and with almost half a body, as if cut in half
The sinner was in the midst of setting up a trap consisting a big silver bucket full of thick blood over the top of Alastor’s own hotel room door, but they’ve been caught in the act
And Alastor doesn’t plan on dealing out punishment… he’s too amused
“Ah… you must be the little troublesome beast causing so much disrupt in this Hotel?” Alastor asks almost immediately with literally no malice towards what’s been going on, his transatlantic accent smooth and almost making his voice sound more friendly and warm than he actually is as this cat sinner… or otherwise, you
Just giggles under your breath and disappears into thin air properly with the wide grin floating in the air for a few seconds almost magically before dissipating with you
“And if I have?” Your voice rings out after a few more seconds of silence, disembodied, invisible. You can’t be tracked with eyes but Alastor’s powerful magic can pinpoint where you are by detecting your own demonic magic, sharply looking over his shoulder to be greeted with your floating head
Just your head… no body, it’s like before when it was half of your torso. Now, it’s just your head. Your magic is a lot like the storybook fairytale character, Cheshire Cat
But that’s because you’re the most Cheshire Cat person anybody will ever met. Alastor couldn’t help but be so amused by you; you’re skilled, you’re snarky, you know what you’re doing and you’re resourceful, good at planning
Able to have avoided being caught by everybody in the Hotel for months now and you’re lucky enough to have been caught by the one member who enjoyed the chaos and madness the pranks caused
“I believe you must avoid the others if so” Alastor proclaims, almost mysterious and still silky in that radio-laced but classy and dapper tone as you tilt your head confused. For the first time, you’ve been snapped out of your mischievous chaotic demeanour
You suspected him to bark, to growl, to be annoyed so him not is so odd to you but quickly brushing it off, you manifest your whole body into frame. Cute fluffy striped cat-like ears flicking and long fluffy cat-like tail curling around, almost like a coil spring
You couldn’t really understand this Overlord, something you don’t like. You’d prefer people to be confused by you, by your style of insanity and madness, by your enjoyment of causing so much disorder and high-tension emotions
You were about to speak, basically floating over his shoulder before Alastor beats you to the punch. You can’t tell if you’ll like him or despise him with the way he speaks, almost condescending
“If you’re going to make my project topsy-turvy, I suggest do a better prank”
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jinx-xxed · 8 months ago
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Supreme Leader
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☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*
A/N; The motivation for this one legit came out of nowhere but I can’t even complain 🫶 this is the best smut I’ve done to date I think
Part of Written in the Stars
Summary; You come back to find Snoke gone… and Kylo Ren has taken his place.
Content; NSFW 18+, AFAB reader, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Commander Reader, aftermath of TLJ, angst to sad fluff, original characters, you get promoted!!!, Kylo’s mean, Kylo gets a lightsaber pulled on him, you have a saberstaff, throne room confrontation turns into throne room sex, fucking on the throne, tension, you’re still not Kylo’s biggest fan lol, helmet on, gloves on, calling Kylo by his proper title, orgasm denial, overstimulation, inappropriate use of the Force, very dominant Kylo, fingering, unprotected piv sex, riding Kylo, humiliation, degradation, praise, talking about feelings
Wc; 6.2k
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*
There’s a sharp ping that comes from the device imbedded into your metal arm cuffs, overriding the silence mode you have it set on and making you startle. You grumble to yourself, pausing your work to tap a few things on the screen and project a smaller screen above it. There it reads the message: all troops involved with mission-76653 cease operations and return to base immediately. There’s coordinates to the Steadfast attached and not the Supremacy, you note.
“Are you serious?” You snap to yourself. The members of Fleet 74 who came along with you on this expedition stop at your voice, looking back at you curiously. You sigh, lifting a hand and making a circular motion with a finger. “We’re heading back to base, I guess. Direct orders.”
Jaharah begins to protest. “Now? But we haven’t finished-“
“I know. I’m not happy about it either.” You say, a scowl settling nicely onto your features. You traveled all the way out to some planet in the Outer Rim to basically have to go right back. You turn, starting the journey to the speeders you’d left behind that’ll return you to your ship that’s even farther away. The others reluctantly follow. “I hope whatever bastard demanded this realizes we’re still two weeks out.”
Lyra’s hands wring together nervously. “Do you think something bad happened? Maybe the resistance-“
You scoff sharply. “The resistance couldn’t hope to do anything against Snoke’s ship, not as things stand now. This is something else.” Or you’d think so.
You won’t admit that you’re worried about what that ‘something else’ could be.
» ☆ «
The trip back to base was just as annoying as the trip out to the assigned planet was. Traveling in a cramped transport ship for two weeks isn’t the most pleasant thing in the world. But finally, there’s a familiar beeping of the sensors and the filter of hyperspace fades away to reveal the massive Star Destroyer that is the Steadfast sitting amongst the blankness of space.
The ship is brought into the hangar and you immediately get the feeling that something is off. A tension in the atmosphere, a shiver running up your arms beneath your uniform. Stormtroopers stand about in a more stiff manner than usual, and the lower workers of the Steadfast seem to have become as meek as mice. There’s also a tinge of leftover smoke in the air, like something blew up within the Star Destroyer. You glance back at your Fleet members as they exit their ships; they feel it too, but Jaharah shrugs, just as lost as you are.
“General,” comes a sudden voice. You snap back around to see a trooper standing before you. “Your presence is requested in the throne room immediately. And the Fleet’s.”
The throne room? What would Snoke want with you now? And what would he want with your Fleet?
You nod, following the Stormtrooper as he acts like some guide through the Steadfast. You’re sure you could find your way faster than he ever could, but you follow along to be nice. The walk there is long, of course, since the ship is so ungodly huge. The hall turns colder as the throne room doors come into view, and it’s like the tension you felt in the air before becomes about ten times heavier, threatening to weigh you down and prevent you from going forward. There’s Sith Troopers guarding the doors, and you see the members of Fleet 74 who stayed behind waiting there as well.
You look to Chief, your second in command. “What is this about?” You demand in a whisper.
“You’ll see.” She mutters. You don’t like that.
The Fleet gets in to a close formation with yourself at the head. The doors open and you’re led inside. You nearly freeze in your tracks with the sight you’re met with.
Snoke is no more. Instead, sitting in a newly made, imposing throne, is Kylo Ren.
He wears his full uniform, hood pulled over his helmet adorned with the red veins that stick the shattered pieces back together coursing through the black metal. His Knights fan out on either side of the throne, still as statues with their weapons held tightly in their hands. Kylo himself is clearly trying to be every bit as intimidating as Snoke was, with his boots firmly planted on the ground, gloved hands clutching the arm rests, back straight as a board.
You kneel before he even gets the chance to tell you to because somehow, initiating it yourself is less humiliating. You hear the Fleet follow suit behind you. The cold, reflective metal of the floor bites into your knee as you stare at it.
There’s an unnerving silence and you feel his eyes on you. Then, “welcome back, Commander.”
You perk at the title, your head shooting up. “Commander?”
“It seems we’ve both gotten promotions.” Kylo drawls. “Snoke is dead, killed by the Jedi girl in his own ship.”
Liar.
He knows that you know, and he also knows that you know it’s better to keep your mouth firmly shut. The discussion you’ll have later should be interesting.
“I’ve taken his place, and I believe it’s most logical to make you my Commander. Fleet 74 will remain as it is. I’m sure you can handle the extra duties, correct?” He asks.
You dip your head again. “Yes, of course. I’m honored, Com-“ you clear your throat, correcting yourself, “Supreme Leader.” It feels wrong.
He taps a finger against the arm rest. “Then you’re dismissed. You and I will talk later.”
You nod. “Yes, sir.”
You rise with the Fleet, leading them out of the throne room with tense muscles. As soon as the doors close behind you, a few of them clap you on the back, congratulating you on the new position. You can’t share in the celebration, unable to ignore the itch in the back of your mind that you can’t quite get rid of.
What the hell happened while you were gone?
» ☆ «
You’re called back to the throne room an hour later.
You know you don’t have a choice in the matter, the message was very clear in that sense. You either go willingly or you’re sure someone will come along to drag you there. So you put away the report you were filing on your forcefully failed mission and push yourself from your chair. You walk down familiar halls, you try to ignore the tremor in your hands by clenching them into fists.
The path to the throne room is void of life, as if it’s a radioactive zone that nobody wants to enter. The description isn’t far off; it feels like you enter into a cloud of smog that chokes you when you get near and it sends a shiver down your spine. The Dark is heavy, threatening, and thick in the area. It parts for you when you pass through, ever so willing to obey your commands even if it doesn’t belong to you, but you feel it pressing in on every side. You take a deep breath when you see the doors leading into the throne room finally appear around a corner, looming like a beast waiting to pounce.
You push them open without pause, steeling yourself and the nerves that buzz beneath your skin. Your face is set with hard lines, your brows slightly drawn over your eyes and your lips positioned with a small downturn. Cold air and the sharp tang of polished metal hits you when you step inside, the click of your heels against the ever-so shiny floor the only sound.
You quickly take note of the fact that the room is empty. There are no Guards, no Stormtroopers, no Knights. Only him.
There is only Kylo Ren, sitting on a false throne.
You feel his eyes behind that mask trained on you as soon as you enter, crawling along your form and taking in every bit of you. He looks as he did before, his body cloaked in black robes with his hood framing his helmet, hiding it from the light. The throne isn’t the same as Snoke’s, this one has had to be built from scratch like many things after the utter obliteration of the Supremacy. This new chair has clearly taken inspiration given its size, but the energy surrounding it has changed. It isn’t as Dark as people would believe it to be.
You stop a healthy distance away from the dais, your perfect reflection along the floor mirroring your movements. “You requested me, Supreme Leader?” The title feels wrong and foreign on your tongue when referring to him and you struggle to hide the mockery in your tone, though he hears it all the same. There’s a seed of unease that burrows itself in your gut, eager to bloom into something bigger as you stare at the man you’ve worked with for most of your life. All of this was unexpected, and that’s where your problem lies. Kylo did this, he got himself to this position—and you don’t understand it.
His gloved hands brace against the armrests as he stands. You watch him intensely, your body feeling like it’s pulled taut as a bowstring, ready for something that you don’t know about yet. Your breathing stutters in your chest, it quickens with your heartbeat. He walks down those steps, one after another with the grace and power of a leader that knows his strength. There’s a brush against the shields in your mind, a familiar Force signature that’s taunting you, playing a game that you’re not interested in. You recoil from the touch, quickly forcing it away from you and out of your head. It can’t be trusted.
He reaches the same level you’re on but when he tries to take another inch of the space between you, you find your lightsaber in front of you. It screams to life, red beams of plasma coming from either end. It lets out a steady hum through the handle clenched in your palm—a threat, a promise. Kylo pauses where he is and you glare at him over the weapon, the red bouncing off the silver on his helmet.
“What did you do?” You demand, words spat from between your teeth.
“Don’t be stupid.” He sneers, deep voice crackling through the vocoder.
He moves towards you again, unfazed by the deadly lightsaber you have pointed directly at him. His pace is unrelenting and you move yourself backwards, eager to keep the same distance. You bare your teeth, twisting to follow him as he circles you like a predator. “What happened to Snoke?”
There’s a minuscule shake of his head as he observes you. “I told you-“
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Kylo. What did you do?” You say again. You want a straight answer, you want to know what the fuck happened when you were gone. You want to know what happened to the man you were beginning to trust. You remember the hunger he’d had in his eyes when you’d first met him, the insatiable desire for power and to prove himself to whoever dared doubt him. You wonder how that young man would feel seeing himself now like this, standing at the top of the galaxy. And you wonder how much farther he’ll go, if this is where you make the stand for your life because you’re a threat.
“I did what I had to.” He says coldly with nothing but conviction. “You’ll understand.” He got himself behind you, now forcing you to walk in the opposite direction to stay away from him. There’s ripples in the Force, the darkness swirling around you both. You feel him at the shields you keep up, but he’s not trying like he should be to get in. He’s basically just sitting there, occasionally reaching forward to remind you that he’s waiting. It’s a silent plea to be let in, but you won’t listen.
“Snoke was a worthless coward. He was incapable of fighting his own battles. Why do you feel such remorse for him when he’s the one who’s caused you so much pain?” Kylo demands, so blatantly angry at the idea of you sympathizing with Snoke. You don’t. You never would. You’re glad to see that he’s gone, that you’ll never again have to experience dread when returning back to base. Snoke tortured you both but after knowing of him ever since you were a child, hearing him in your head, that seed of unease blooms into fear. What will happen now? What kind of leader could Kylo Ren possibly be?
You don’t have the chance to ponder it further. The backs of your legs hit the seat of the throne after having been forced up the dais by Kylo who now comes so close it causes you to fall unceremoniously into the chair. Your lightsaber is still active, poised at his throat even as he slams both hands on either armrest, caging you in. “I saved us,” he snarls, “and this is how you thank me?”
Even as Kylo’s presence threatens to rob you of breath, his darkness trying to choke you, you don’t cower. Your lightsaber reflects in your eyes in the same way it does his helmet, the heat from the plasma an uncomfortable presence between you. “How am I supposed to trust you?” You practically throw the words in his face, and you can see the way they make him recoil. It’s barely there, so very slight, but he draws back just a fraction of a centimeter and you hear the creak of his gloves as he grips the armrests tighter. It hurts him, it brings you satisfaction. You feel the flinch in the Force, betraying his true emotions to someone like you who’s more attuned than he realizes.
And then it’s gone. He brushes it aside and replaces that emotion with bristling anger. He reaches past your arm, past your lightsaber without a care, and he grips your chin. You want to thrash against him, want to fight against his hold; it would be so easy with the saber you have against his neck. But you can’t bring yourself to. You let him hold you there as he makes sure you’re looking at him, his fingers digging into your jaw.
“He was going to have me kill you.” Kylo says, tone quiet and blunt as he brings forth information he’d been holding inside of himself for so long, letting it consume him. “That’s why I sent you away.” Scenes flash in your mind, brought to you by Kylo so that you can see exactly what terrified him, to see what caused the sense of fear he had that day he gave you your mission.
Snoke would’ve had you both come to the throne room, and you would’ve thought nothing was amiss. But then he would reveal that he wished to further Kylo’s training after his recent failures, and that you were the key to making him stronger. That key was your own death. Snoke would admit as such, that he wants Kylo to kill you. You could feel it—the rage inside of you, the despair. Snoke had always favored Kylo over you because Kylo had a name behind him, he had a legacy. You were just a kid with a meaningless family that he picked up off a worthless planet that turned out to have more potential than anyone could’ve ever dreamed. You’d surpassed Kylo in more than enough trials to prove that and yet… it didn’t matter. You were to die to push someone else forward.
“You would’ve fought,” Kylo murmurs, briefly breaking you from the vision, “but you would’ve lost.”
You see what he means. You turned on Snoke, you lashed out with everything you had in you as the Praetorian Guards advanced. You killed all of them, your will to live greater than their own strength, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough against Snoke, who forced you to your knees even as he struggled to do so from your protesting. You could’ve been something, you could’ve been more, but you were just fodder for the machine. You at least looked Kylo in the eyes with your chin held high when he lifted the hilt of his lightsaber. The vision cut out directly after that, and you find yourself heaving for breath.
Your own lightsaber is gone, taken from your grip by Kylo while you watched your death play out. The anger that boils in your gut almost feels misplaced because that future never came to pass, and it never will. Because of what Kylo did. He sent you on a convenient mission to the Outer Rim, as far away from Snoke as possible. Then he took his chances back here, trying to figure out some way to save you, and then the perfect opportunity was laid at his feet.
He keeps his hold on you, forcing you to watch through his own eyes and learn of what he’d gone through. Rey had shown up. The young Jedi girl actually had the gall to deliver herself right to her enemy. She definitely has guts, you’d give her that. She tried and failed to get Kylo to turn away from the Dark Side, trying to make him see the Light. But it didn’t work when his thoughts remained on you and keeping you from Snoke’s grasp. He was too focused on the fact that if the future he saw came to fruition, he knew he’d lose himself entirely. He wouldn’t be able to bear it.
So he used Rey in his schemes, used her as a distraction of sorts. He used her to finally kill Snoke, to free himself and you from his reign. He couldn’t believe it actually worked, that Snoke was truly lying on the floor severed in half. It was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders, a ghoul finally banished from the corners of his mind. It was peaceful, but only for a moment. Him and Rey fought the Guards, and then he tried to get back his grandfather’s lightsaber once more to no avail. The memories from then on are bright flashes, fuzzy images, and explosions—nothing you can make out.
You’re pulled from Kylo’s memories, your jaw slack and your heart racing. It feels unreal, something you can’t believe because you weren’t here to witness it. But if you had been here, you would’ve died. “Now you see, don’t you? I told you that you’d understand. Yet you still can’t bring yourself to trust me. It just disgusts you, doesn’t it?” He says lowly, jabbing at you. “How could you ever bear to trust someone like me?” Someone who saved your life, he wants to add with his mocking tone.
There’s a moments pause where you stare at each other, unsure of what to think or say. You wish you could see him, could see his eyes and his face. Your nervous hand reaches up, attempting to get the latch on his helmet to take it off, but he stops you abruptly. He grips your wrist firmly in a leather-clad hand. You try and fumble for words. “Kylo, I-“
“No. You’ll address me as Supreme Leader. You need to get used to that title.” He snaps, forcing you all the way back into the throne as he comes even closer, his boot sliding between your own and forcing your legs apart. Your breath hitches when he takes both your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head so you can’t do anything stupid like trying to shove him off or drawing your lightsaber on him again.
The rise and fall of your chest quickens when cold air kisses the skin of your stomach, your layers shoved up by his free hand. The leather of his glove is rough as it skates along the newly exposed area on its way further down. His fingers catch on the waistband of your pants and they don’t hesitate to slip beneath the fabric. Your body feels like it’s been set on fire, your spine pressed so firmly against the back of the throne that there’s nowhere else for you to go, even as you try to scoot away from his burning touch.
You jolt when he grazes your clit, your teeth digging so sharply into your lip that you think you taste blood. He’s moves slow and with purpose, knowing exactly what he’s doing when a low groan rumbles from the back of your throat. You can tell by the way he’s so willing to taunt and tease, by the way his huge body covers your own and boxes you in, that this isn’t going to be good for you. The pad of his index finger traces slow, tortuous circles around your entrance while the heel of his palm makes occasional, light taps against your clit to keep you aware, to keep you anticipating.
“You love to say how much you hate me, and yet you’re always so eager for me.” Kylo spits, his voice guttural when it comes through his helmet, struggling to get past the vocoder as more than just lustful static. He can feel how wet you are, how easily the dark leather of his gloves slides between your folds. His finger finally plunges into your waiting cunt not a second later, a gasp rattling your body. It’s a welcome feeling, one that finally gives the throbbing of your walls something to focus on instead of just aching, empty space.
The thrusts of his finger are lazy, staying at the same easy pace even as you squirm. He’s more generous to your clit now at least, his palm staying firmly against it, providing the friction of rough leather and stitched seams with each in and out of your hole. You whine in pleasure when he finally adds a second finger, the thick digits filling you more completely. They go farther, sink deeper into your heat, finding and pressing against the spot you’re never able to get on your own. Your hands struggle against the hold he has on them, your attempts at freeing yourself as your body writhes having been unsuccessful. You know you’ll have bruises in the shapes of his fingers across your wrists from the strength of his grip.
Kylo enjoys seeing you like this, completely under his mercy and so, so very compliant. It’s rare when he gets what he wants from you—your submission—so he’s relishing in it now while it lasts. His enjoyment is obvious from the erection creating a tent in his pants. You have to avert your eyes from it, trying not to think of the way he’d use it, the way he’d ram into you again and again and fill you with his desire. You can feel your own mounting, a knot in your gut that grows bigger with his ministrations, threatening to come undone.
You’re almost there. You’re standing on the ledge, leaning over the side, ready to fall off into bliss. Just a few more thrusts of his fingers, a few more circles around your clit, and your orgasm will be washing through you. But it never comes despite the way he continues to fingerfuck you, despite the way you can feel it right there and so ready to burst. It’s like something’s blocking it on purpose, a dam built with the sole mission of denying your release. Your eyes snap open, finding Kylo. He huffs a laugh. “What, you think I’d let you cum that easily?” It pisses you off how much he’s liking this. “I’ve barely even started.”
You practically growl at him, lip drawing up to reveal your sharp teeth, but you know he just finds it amusing. Especially when you try to grind your hips down onto his fingers as if that’ll be enough to break the Force hold he has on your body. You can’t move much beyond that with the way he looms over the throne, his legs pinning yours and your hands still stuck above your head. An involuntary whimper rips from your throat when he moves his thumb to your clit, rubbing at it with more purpose and ferocity and a third finger managing to slip into your eager cunt. Your feet scrabble against the floor, trying to find some kind of purchase as the denial of an orgasm makes you dizzy. You try and swallow the drool pooling in your mouth, the breath of your panting fogging the metal panels on Kylo’s helmet from your proximity.
You give in to begging once tears prick your eyes. Your words are barely more than a whisper. “Please- please, Kylo, just-“
There’s a harsh thrust up into your cunt that has your words falling silent, instead replaced by a sharp, high pitched yelp. “What did I fucking tell you?” He demands, pressing even harder against that spot along your walls that has you seeing stars. You feel like you’re about to explode from the built up tension in your body. “What did I tell you to call me?”
You glare at him, your eyes full of all the fury you can’t manage to get out with your voice. You don’t want to say it. You don’t want to bend to this man who’s held such a ridiculous amount of power over you for what feels like your entire life. Your teeth grind together in defiance, even as your face burns. He hums at that and seems almost happy that you’re going against him. He does love a good fight.
His fingers stall and begin to slowly slide out of you, ready to leave you completely empty and with a simmering need that won’t be taken care of. You jolt, eyes widening. It’s in that moment you find you don’t actually give a fuck about defying him, you just need him to stay in you. “Supreme Leader!” You practically shout, so sudden it even startles yourself. Your next words are quieter, more restrained. “Supreme Leader, please..”
You moan in relief when his fingers take back their positions deep inside your cunt, the sounds of your slick sloshing around filling the empty throne room. “Good,” Kylo says roughly, clearly struggling himself. Your obedience is music to his ears and it does nothing to soothe the ache of his cock still restrained by his pants. It just makes it worse. “Say it again.”
You hate him. You’re probably going to kill him. “Supreme Leader, please-“ you have to choke back your humiliation and death threats, “please let me cum.”
This time Kylo groans, the desperate sound crackling through his helmet. He thrusts his fingers one more time, swiping his thumb along your clit, before he lets you go. The release is instant. Something akin to a scream comes from you with your orgasm, the world around you feeling like it’s shattering. You can barely breathe, pure pleasure wracking your body and sending lightning through your limbs. The dam finally broke, and it feels so fucking good. The unbearable pressure is gone, bliss washing through you like a wave from the ocean as you cum around his hand. “See how nice I am?” Kylo says with heavy breath, barely able to contain himself. His eyes are locked on to where his hand disappears into your pants; he can feel your cum pooling on his glove. “How well I reward you when you’re good?”
It’s all you can do to nod dumbly, too blissed out with your ears still ringing to really comprehend what he’s saying. You don’t resist when your pants are pulled off, your underwear entirely soaked through and baring your sensitive, wet cunt to the cold air. You shiver. Your cloak is tossed aside, your top layers undone to reveal your upper body. You’re barely more than a rag doll when Kylo braces an arm against your back, using it to scoop you out of the throne so he can take your spot. His zipper is pulled down, his boxers lowered so his cock is finally freed, painfully erect and dribbling precum.
He sinks you down to the hilt without hesitation. All the air is punched from your lungs, your body tensing as his length fills you to capacity. Kylo’s appreciative groan is loud and throaty, his fingers digging bruises into your hips. You have to pause for a moment to adjust to the sudden intrusion, feeling so full it’s like you’re not allowed to breathe. Your lips are parted, your nails digging into the ribbed sleeves on his forearms for purchase. His body is warm and muscular beneath your hands.
You struggle to move, still feeling the after effects of your orgasm, your limbs weak and trembling. Kylo makes no effort to help you, his helmet instead tilted up towards you expectantly. “If you want it you’ll have to work for it, Commander.” He says with some twisted amusement. You briefly consider how easy it’d be to reach forward and wring his neck.
But you put that aside, swallowing your broken pride. You unfortunately want his cock more than that. The first thrust is bliss, pleasure filled shocks coursing through you like a live wire. You and Kylo moan in tandem, both of you finally getting some form of relief. Your movements are slow at first, trying desperately to get used to the feeling of his cock splitting you open. His hands travel up your sides, his left glove still soaked in your juices and leaving a trail along your skin. He finds your breasts, encompassing them with large, warm palms that have your head tilting back and your eyes closing. He pinches your stiffened nipples between his fingers, rolling them experimentally as you whine and arch into his touch. Your pace on his cock is steady now, finally having figured out a rhythm.
“Touch yourself.” Kylo orders suddenly, words sounding choked.
Your gaze snaps to him, brows furrowing slightly. “What?”
“Touch yourself.” He snaps again. “If you’re smart, you’ll listen to what I say.”
You glower, your face burning even hotter. He knows you don’t enjoy doing it, which is giving him all the more reason to make you. You hesitate, both not wanting to do as he demands and also not wanting to see whatever repercussions will come if you don’t. Your shaking fingers reach down and find your clit, the bud still sensitive and aching from Kylo’s earlier abuse. Your lip is between your teeth, trying to keep back your moans as you run circles over your clit. The stimulation quickly builds and you can feel that familiar knot forming in your gut again.
Kylo’s helmet tilts up and you can feel his eyes on you. You try not to meet them. “You look pretty like this, you know? Finally fucking listening to me.” He rumbles, giving your nipple a particularly hard pinch and making you writhe in his grip. “Say my name.”
You try to ignore him, ignore his stupid power trip and ego boost. But then he makes his move—one hand comes down to grip your wrist and the other is firm on your hip, completely stalling your movements and messing up your concentration. Your climax steadily begins to fade, a loud and frustrated groan coming from you. “This is stupid.” You snarl at him.
He doesn’t back down. “Say it.”
A harsh breath blows through your nose. You move your head so you can look past him, not wanting to admit that this is what he’s bringing you to. “Supreme Leader.” You mutter, your hips shifting to try and get friction with his cock still hard inside your cunt. He puts a stop to that quickly with a harsh squeeze.
Kylo lets go of your wrist to instead grab your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Again.”
“Supreme Leader.” You grit out.
“One more time.”
You grab his forearm, your nails digging deep enough and with such fury that they’ll leave marks. It’s the least you can do. “Supreme Leader.”
“Good girl.” He murmurs, thumb running along your lower lip. You want nothing more than to sink your teeth into it until you taste blood. “You’ve done so well.”
His following thrust up into you has you forgetting what insult you were going to say. Both of his hands rest on your hips now, keeping you steady as he fucks you mercilessly. You bend forward, gripping his shoulders as some kind of anchor, punctuated moans spilling endlessly from your mouth. His helmet is downturned, the forehead of it resting against your sternum as he watches his cock disappear inside of your cunt, slick smearing along the front of his pants. He uses his Force to swirl against your clit, creating a sort of buzzing sensation that quickly brings that knot back and sets your blood ablaze.
“A commander reduced to a fucking cocksleeve. So good for my dick, aren’t you?” He breathes, words made even more gravelly by his vocoder. “Fuck.” You can only nod along and whimper, your brain fucked into useless mush.
You grip him tighter when your second orgasm finally bursts, your walls spasming around his cock and making him curse even louder. Cum gushes from you, dripping along your folds and making a further mess of Kylo’s pants. You cry out when he keeps thrusting into you, everything throbbing and overly sensitive for his harsh pace. You can’t think straight, you can only dig your teeth into the padded armor of his shoulder as tears well and threaten to fall.
His cock twitches, his hips stuttering. He gets in a few more thrusts before he’s cumming at last, a slew of cusses mixed with grunts and groans falling from his mouth. You hum in pleasure when you feel his warm spend filling your cunt to the brim, effectively coating your walls white.
Neither of you can move for a couple of minutes after. You don’t know how long you sit there for, your body finally relaxing and your eyes closing. He doesn’t pull out, his cock softening inside you and making sure you stay plugged full of his cum. You’re tempted to fall asleep before Kylo’s hands are leaving your hips and instead coming up to undo the latches on his helmet. There’s a hiss of air as the mechanisms slide out of place and he’s able to take it off. His black hair falls around his face, sweat drenching the ends.
You struggle to lift yourself up, but you want to see him. Your hands shake from exhaustion when they reach forward, taking his cheeks in your palms. He looks so tired. His sigh tickles your skin, his eyes closing at your touch. He seems significantly more relaxed now, his body letting go of its tension and his Force signature becoming something calmer. You can feel the weight shift as he leans into your right hand. His arms circle around your back, somehow pulling you even closer.
He swallows before speaking. “I was… afraid.” He mutters. “Afraid without you here… and yet I had to do it. Otherwise I’d lose you.”
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips gentle as they brush along your collarbone. “I was afraid that I would fail. That it would’ve all been for nothing.” He continues. He sounds so quiet, quieter than you’ve heard him in a while. You run your fingers through his hair. “I just… I’m glad I sent you away.”
“Me too.” You mumble, your eyes trained on the back wall as your mind runs. You’re finally coming to terms with the fact that your death had almost been set in stone at the hands of Snoke. Coming to terms with the fact that your lifelong teacher was going to have you executed by his star pupil, and the fact that Kylo decided to save you and possibly get himself killed instead. The fact he did everything he could to make sure you wouldn’t come back to a death sentence. You swallow thickly. “Thank you.”
He stills at those words. They’re the last thing he expected to hear from you and it makes him uneasy. He doesn’t say anything, and that’s okay. You know he can’t. Besides, it’s easy to gather what he wants to say from his Force in this moment of vulnerability. An apology is at the forefront; an apology for taking things out on you again. He doesn’t regret it, but he didn’t mean for it to happen. Then underneath that there’s longing that’s still lingering from when you were gone. He wanted nothing more than to see you, to know you were okay. He’s more than happy to have you in his arms now.
You pull yourself out of his thoughts, blowing out a tired sigh and resting your head on his shoulder. He wraps his cape around you to protect your mostly-naked form from the chill of the throne room, his warmth bleeding into you. You’re content to just sit there in his lap, and he seems content to let you. He relaxes back into the throne, cradling you against him with his soft breathing ruffling the hairs on the top of your head.
You’re together. You’re alive. That’s all you need in this moment.
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szynkaaa · 8 months ago
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my girl cries stardust
or that one time the Destined One was starstruck (literally?)
in my head this is after the Destined One and my OC have been traveling for a while and now and established a good form of communication too despite the Destined One being silent. He noticed that she never allows her herself to cry in front of him, figured it might be because she didn't want people to see her cry. And then something something happened where she reached her limit and broke down. Seeing her cry was simultaneouslythe most beautiful and heartbreaking thing he has seen.
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elsecrytt · 8 months ago
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satoru gojo knows he's not wanted. only needed - a weapon for killing curses and curse users, day in and day out, the lynchpin of jujutsu society.
he's fine with that, most of the time. the truth is, when suguru left, he thought that was the end for him. he was never very good at friendship in the first place, at making people like him.
he has a difficult personality, and he doesn't want to change. people willing to deal with him as he was were few and far between, and they never had that immediate connection like he did with suguru.
even if it left him unbearably lonely. it's just not in his nature to mince words, to hold back, to play nice. if he couldn't be satoru gojo, then what else did he have left?
and it's fine, most of the time.
but some of the time, it's not. it's really, really not. sometimes, it's worth it to try, just the tiniest bit, not to be a complete ass and drive away a pretty face who seems unbothered by his attitude.
that's how he ends up with you - a non-sorcerer. he hasn't told you about sorcery in general and doesn't want you to know.
to him, your shared penthouse is his safe space. he never walks or drives there, only ever teleports so that no one can trace him there. no one, not even at the school, knows that he primarily lives there.
he spends every spare hour (sometimes even just ten minute) he can there. finishing missions early, darting off after lessons, eating there whenever he can.
satoru only sleeps whenever you sleep. he never showers alone, never does his nighttime routine on his own.
that's all precious time he could be spending at your side.
washing your hair, your face, cleaning up alongside you. laughing and splashing and making a little more of a mess if he can get away with it.
here, there are no curses, no former friends turned traitor, no one who needs his help.
you smile as soon as you see him, hear him, run up to hug him if your hands are free.
he's on the lock screen of your phone. once or twice he's caught you just staring at it, delight painted all over your lips.
all you want from him is his company -
and god, is he ever aware, you're the only one alive who does.
most of his coworkers dislike him to various degrees. even his students have mixed feelings about him sometimes.
he does his best, he really does, but he can't bring himself to get attached to someone who might one day leave.
you won't, though (you can't), so he's free to love you all he wants.
he'll freely confess - he's overcompensating. pouring all the missed opportunities to bond, all the awkward moments where his attitude turned other people away, into the dam that is your relationship.
you don't mind his funky schedule (too much), you're a huge homebody who likes having date nights at home.
you smooth off all the rough edges of his personality - the arrogance, the smarmy comments - with a laugh and a taunt, a hand in his hair that he can't help but lean into like the domesticated pet he is.
god, he loves you. he loves you so, so much, unreasonably so - loves coming home to a "satoru! welcome back~", loves bringing home meals from different places and watching you try them with delight (you joke that his mysterious job must be as a delivery man, which he laughs at more than he should), loves coming home to your unnecessary attempts at cooking every now and then, something indescribable curling in his chest.
he loves sitting and talking with you about the latest show you're watching, telling you about his "coworkers" and "juniors" (sometimes he has to stop himself from giggling about it) and how annoying his latest day at work was.
sometimes it's sort of vague and vapid but it's fun when it's with you. sometimes it's deeper stuff, real stuff ("my oldest friend passed away recently" "one of my juniors at work has a complicated family situation") and you seem to always know just what to say. talking to you always makes him feel better.
he worries, sometimes, that he's not as good to you as you are to him. he tries - god, does he try - to show you the extent of his love, if he can't afford the words or time, then in deeds.
you're taken care of for the rest of your life, that was a given. the penthouse is in your name, various trusts set up in the impossible event of his death.
you have full access to a joint account that was actually just yours, set up for you by him - he just didn't feel like trying to convince you to accept the money.
he buys you things, of course. food mostly, to eat together, but also little trinkets and manga and souvenirs of the various places he goes to. little pieces of his life to share with you.
and when he can, he does do dates. every second he gets to spend with you is like gold, and he spends them all fully invested, eyes locked on you and yours, walking on air the entire time just from your presence. ready to talk about anything you had an interest in.
he's just that infatuated. satoru could talk for days to anyone, but you're the only one who'd listen, who'd chatter back just as enthusiastically. he wants you on speed dial every moment he's away.
shopping trips, too, he's always happy to play dress up, to dutifully compliment you even though privately he thinks you look best without any clothes -
and that, too, he does for you. he makes no secret of his affection for your body. spares not even a second getting to his knees, nuzzling against your thigh, cheeks flushed as he looks up at you with pleading eyes won't you feed me, pretty please, i'm starving~
he shows you he loves you. with hands and mouth and body, as a sorcerer should. silent curses falling from his lips as his body joins to yours.
it seems almost cruel of you to let him have this. why can't he live here forever? why can't he always be inside you?
satoru gojo knows he is the absolute last person who should be complaining about this, but why is life so unfair?
why can't he spend every minute of every day by your side? touching you? talking to you?
in his wildest dreams he's not killing curses or sorcerers or changing the world.
he's in bed with you, by your side from the moment he wakes up to the moment he falls asleep. that's his dream, just you being there, always.
he worries most of all what he'd do if you ever fought.
you're not the type - you "need space to calm down" sometimes, which is usually just you going back to your room. you "want to have a calm discussion" where you sit and listen to him and talk about feelings, and you have this way of making him talk.
you're good at communicating, at making people feel better, and understanding others. sensitive in a way that he's not.
you're never out to hurt him, even when he can tell his time away is grating on you, his constant absences and flightiness rightly off-putting.
you never argue with him, never make demands, and that's how you got together in the first place, the perfect match.
(it scares him, really, being made for battle as he is. where's your fighting spirit? wouldn't you cry and scream and beg if he was going to leave you? wouldn't you go to war for your love? he knows he would.)
but deep down he knows it's there. a massive part of his life is hidden from you - things that are important to him; his mission, his students, his power.
he doesn't know what to do, really.
he wants to keep you safe, unworried. he wants to keep this island of peaceful, mundane happiness in his life.
he wants you to love him, wholly and completely, for all that he is. he wants to hear you tell him he's doing it right. that you're proud of him.
there's so much he wants now, compared to when his life was just teaching students, killing curses, and waiting for the day he'd have to kill his only friend.
satoru isn't sure which one is better. because even though he hopes he can have you how he wants, and the rest of his life too -
he's starting to think it might not be possible.
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songofmercry · 5 months ago
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i cant express how happy i am to see all these non-MC y/n fics, glad to know that im not the only one who cant relate to the MC… please keep them coming 🥲🫶
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everythingmp3 · 3 months ago
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no need to be brave
adult Van x fem!reader
as your lover deals with a hangover, which is only made worse by her illness, she insists that you leave her to deal with it by herself, but you have other plans -with a bit of tenderness and heat, you manage to make her feel it: that you want to be with her, always, not just on her good days
authors note: hi! I was on a break from posting these fics but that promo clip where adult taivan are bickering gave me some inspiration, so I just took the idea of being sweet with her while shes suffering and this came from that, hope you enjoy <3 (5.8k words)
warnings: some smut (both receive in certain ways), mentions of cancer/grief etc.
it was a sunny winter afternoon as you laid on Van´s couch and listened to the outside noise, cars driving by, the day going unfolding while you relaxed with your legs stretched out, your eyes closed, your breathing slow and steady.
you´d been dating Van long enough by that point to feel like her apartment had become your second home, and she was more than glad to leave hers years of solitary living behind, but in that moment she had no idea that you were still there.
the night before, you had gone out to a nice dinner and against all better judgment she had insisted on getting a few drinks at the bar next door; you were aware of her diagnosis, unlike when you´d first started dating, and asked her if she was sure, to give her a chance to change her mind, but she did not budge, she wanted a proper drink for once, a few even, so, instead of playing mother and telling her that she was forbidden, you caved and indulged her. for the next few hours you joined her in enjoying the present moment, regardless of consequence, soaked up the atmosphere of the dimly lit room as you stole touches under the table and both got tipsy from a few shots and two drinks, kissing to taste the citrusy booze on each others lips.
as you walked home, arm in arm, you were glad that you hadn´t dragged her home, that you got to see her face glow pink as she smiled at you under the light of the moon, paused on your way back to kiss you in an empty street, to feel you up against a wall until you heard a group of people approaching and ran, or rather stumbled, away. you had fallen asleep later on in a tight embrace while caressing each others hair, whispering sweet drunken thoughts, "my baby..", "I´m so lucky..", falling into a dazed slumber.
that burst of sparkling euphoria was replaced by a dull dread the next morning, at least on Vans part.
she couldn´t blame anyone but herself for the banging migraine she woke up to, she knew this, so she refrained from complaining to you, even though she radiated a palpable air of "I am gonna die today. not in the near future, this is it, I´m fucking done for.", her body punishing her for her recklessness, her joints and muscles aching with every move.
you were already familiar enough with her physical makeup to know exactly what she needed on mornings like that: an ice cold coke, some strong pain killers, a flaky pastry, and you doting on her, even though she denied it. Van felt embarrassed from the moment she woke up, aware of how beyond rough she looked, her hair disheveled, her face puffy, failing to suppress her groans of discomfort, and yet, you weren´t put off by it, any of it, even when she was convinced you were surely losing all of your attraction to her by the minute, it never happened, not once; you had yet to see Van in a state that didn´t elicit feelings of adoration or warmth in you, her freckled nose and cheeks, the shape of her lips, her voice, her flame colored hair, that distinct sweet warm scent she had in the morning, they were never diminished in their effect on you by a cranky attitude or signs of her sickness, ever.
you knew that she did not always believe you, that she often wondered why on earth you stayed with her, through everything, even though you weren´t even girlfriends, not officially, not really. you knew Van well enough to know that she would not ask you to be exclusive, much too afraid of the unbearable sense of guilt of locking you down, when she might die within the year, when she might evoke widow-like feelings in someone who had barely just started their adult life.
you had no way of knowing, but in her darkest moments when she was cruelest to herself her mind told her "youre a fucking monster. you already knew you had a few months at most and still looked for a lover. you tell yourself that you werent looking for more than sex but you know its not true. you were too selfish to die without having anyone wrecked by your death. you wanted someone to really grieve your loss. and now youve found a poor soul. enjoy it."
still, even when she kept things undefined and told you you were free to date other people - while dying of envy at the mere thought - in your head, and in hers, Van was your girlfriend, she was, you didn´t need her to say it because her behavior sufficed, she treated you like a partner, not just a a hook-up, she was far from detached and you let her believe that it was casual, that you weren´t at risk of having your heart shattered by her death, that you weren´t already in love with her.
the way you´d found out about her cancer had been less than ideal.
during your first date, her attitude was "no need to tell her about it, I doubt I will see her more than a few times" at the time still very attached to her idea of keeping her love life non-committal, unromantic, only allowing hook-ups and maybe a few low-key dates here and there. this plan was abandoned fast when your first date went so beautifully that you ended up kissing her goodbye in her car, which inevitably turned into a heated make-out, which turned into you asking her to come up to your room, both of you a little shocked by how deeply into each other you were after just a few hours of talking over a dinner table.
one of your fondest memories from that night was after you´d gotten lost in each other for hours, laying there tired but far from sleepy, exhilirated by your natural chemistry, when she laughed and shook her head, still breathless, and said "what the fuck are you doing to me..", since she was not used to it: a stranger being as overtly sweet and intense during sex as you´d been, kissing her not just in the obvious places but on the back of her hand, wherever you could reach in the heat of the moment, still reeling from the way you´d begged to taste her after she´d done it to you, the way you´d caressed her sides, had given her a type of intimacy that she usually felt like she’d have to earn by being more open, more vulnerable during a date - but you didn´t care to hear her life story, you were eager to feel her, fully, and it broke her down, hit her at her weak spot, the romantic in her, that she´d kept buried, coming back up to hold you as you slept together that night.
you saw each other again two days later and you ended up spending the weekend at her place, which went so smoothly that Van abandoned her rule of "no sweet stuff, nothing relationship adjacent" : she started inviting you out for breakfast, always offered to drive you to work or to meet up with a friend, picked you up at night, listened and calmed you down whenever you seemed worried or stressed; you returned the same energy by randomly showing up at her store with flowers for her place or her favorite take-out or to just keep her some company and sit near the counter while she talked to you about her recent film discoveries, gossiped about some customers, pulled you into the back-room to make out until the bell rang, you pushing her away as she groaned and uttered "I´m not done with you" as she left the room and prayed that the person would leave within a few minutes.
this honeymoon period made her feel an acute sense of shame. she had tried again and again to find the right moment to tell you, to just say it: "I am so sorry. I have been keeping something from you." but the love she had so unexpectedly stumbled into with you, that light she felt in her chest, that unfamiliar warmth that had wrapped its soft arms around her soul, she was too desperate to keep it in tact, so weeks passed before the moment came, unplanned, she didnt want it to go the way it did.
one night as you laid on top of her, still breathing heavy, still trembling a bit from the way she´d wrecked you, her hands drawing soft circles on your back, her heartbeat under your ear, you had fantasized about possibly going on a summer vacation that year, to get away from everything, to have a few days just to be together and lounge around and jump into the ocean together, eat good food, be at ease. it hit her then, the inability to picture her future because she did not know how long she still had, so she went quiet and burst into tears.
at first, you were shocked, unable to speak, since you´d never seen her shed a single tear up until then, but you quickly recovered and held her face and tried to soothe her in any way you could as the confession came spilling out: "I´m so sorry, I´m so fucking sorry, but I don´t even know if I´ll.." she choked up in the middle "if I´ll..." you coaxed it out of her, rubbed her shoulders, listened quietly as she cried, "if I´ll still be alive in summer. I have cancer. terminal."
Van had expected you to be angry with her, to feel blind-sided and betrayed by her stringing you along for weeks without ever mentioning her severe predicament, but all you could think to do then was to pull her head against your shoulder and assure her that you weren´t going anywhere, that you would figure it out together, that she had no reason to apologize.
you put on a brave face for her but later that night the other person who was home with you had to stop you from almost hyperventilating at the thought of having to watch her lose her physical strength and suffer til her premature death, which you would have to survive, somehow. you allowed yourself one night of fully falling apart and grieving the loss you were being asked to face in the near future, but the next day a determination took over, you told yourself, "I love her. I love being with her. and I will make the most out of every second. I will ease her pain in any way I can, until the end."
Van could sense this energy from that point on, your protective spirit, and it humbled her while also making her feel a bit uneasy about her being older and yet being taken care of by you, almost shedding tears when you did things for her like massage her temples and joints with essential oils to relieve some of the pain or when you clocked her lies about having eaten enough during the day and cooked her elaborate meals at night, when you made her switch during sex to keep her from exhausting herself just to make you come again and again, a sweetness to it, the way you´d sometimes move away from under her and push her back into the pillows with a pleased smile that said "your turn now, I´m very satisfied, no need to prove yourself".
that morning, the guilt had come back to haunt Van, so she told you to leave her to deal with her aching bones and hangover by herself, to go out and have a fun Saturday, to enjoy yourself and stop worrying about her, to not turn into her "unpaid nurse", as she put it.
she´d insisted quite aggressively, her mood not helping at all with her self-loathing, so you´d assuaged her by saying "okay fine, I´ll go, call me if you need any help though" and left her room, walked down the stairs, loudly, on purpose, to make it sound like you´d left, only to quietly creep up again and stay.
you refused to leave her to her own devices in a state like that. it was out of the question. not when you were afraid she might pass out on her way to the bathroom or in the shower. about two hours after she´d fallen asleep again, around 3pm, you heard some noise coming from her room that signaled to you that she was awake.
you wouldn´t just sit there and listen, so you got up from the couch and made your way over to her room, cracking the door open and preparing yourself for her to tell you off, which of course, only took a few seconds to happen, a barely suppressed grin on your face as you saw her laying there, her eyes still half-closed, her cheeks pink from sleep, and heard her voice crack as she whined your name and said "noo come on, you said you´d go, what the fuck are you still doing here??".
you smiled as you took a few steps further into the room and crossed your arms, eyeing her with an unmistakably loving gaze, "oh, perfect way to be greeted while walking into the room" an air of smugness to you as you walked over to her nightstand and popped an aspirin into the glass of water you´d left there for her earlier. Van shook her head as she rubbed her eyes and let out a "fucking hell..", clearly still out of it, so you sat down on her side of the bed to get a closer look at her, your hand resting over the blanket, a twist in your heart when you saw how tired she still looked, but a bit of life had thankfully come back into her from the nap.
"this isn´t funny... take a fucking look outside!" Van told you, gesturing wildly at the window "it´s so nice out today, you should be with friends, moving your body, enjoying the sun, whatever, not staying inside to take care of an old decrepit woman." her tone low, an attempt at sternness that wasn´t unattractive to you, still, her pout took away from her ability to seem intimidating, to seem anything but sweet to you. you watched her, brushed a strand of hair out of her face, tucked it behind her ear and said "uh, would you mind pointing to the woman you´re talking about because I dont see anyone decrepit here".
Van rolled her eyes and squeezed your arm then for emphasis, trying not to be charmed, "listen to me lady, I told you, I don´t want to feel guilty all the time, I really don´t, this is my fault, I chose to drink, so you go, be free, have fun, please, I will call you when I am better again, I promise".
she was trying her best to sell it to you, the simple idea of: let us part ways, let me deal with it, and get back to you when I am fit again. but what you heard was "abandon me" and you never would. so it was pointless. she couldn´t sway you and maybe deep down she was secretly glad for it, your unwavering loyalty, the way you never seemed fazed or annoyed by her ailments, her moods, her little moments of melodrama.
"do you really think I am doing all of this out of pity? really? that I secretly hate this and just put on a brave face? come on. Van. you know me by now" you said, earnest, holding her hand then, clasping it tightly as she softened from your impact, felt touched by your gentle way of handling her. "yeah... yeah I do" she agreed and squeezed your hand, her voice barely above a whisper, a wistfulness to her tone, her eyes drawn to where your fingers were interlaced, a light kiss to her cheek from you before you took the glass with the dissolved aspirin and ordered her "drink.", which made her drop the tough act and smile, genuinely, pleased by that subtle sound of authority.
she obeyed and drank about half of it before pausing to take a breath and then finish the rest, a pleased "good, there you go" from you, which made her laugh as she wiped her mouth and lightened up a bit.
"do you have some kind of savior complex kink going on, is that it?" she teased, nudging you in the side as you sat closer to her and took in the sight of her eyes finally getting that familiar sparkle again.
"oh I see, you think I am getting off on all this, huh?" you joked, pretending to be offended, which only amused her more. Van leaned back against the headboard, stretched her limbs a bit and shrugged, "you tell me." a pause before she added "I´m sure you loveee seeing me all frail and helpless, hm". she´d slipped into the playful tone she often used when she was trying to get you to come onto her, to make her pay for some out of pocket comments by grabbing her and rendering her weak with certain kisses and touches.
Van was not in a state that allowed you too much aggression, but you had your ways, so, you nodded and said "hm sure, I love having you at my mercy", which made her flush, a hit to her core, her utter weakness for being overpowered by her lover, being toyed with, flustered by them.
you eyed her and saw it, that she was getting turned on as she responded "yeah. you could do whatever you want, couldn´t even fight back, not like this".
"hmm" you sighed and moved from the side of the bed to take your place on her thighs instead, carefully, making sure she was fine as you slowly settled on her and straddled her, your hands on her shoulders then, smiling at her as her face got colored in both surprise and arousal, her hands immediately on your hips, holding you in place, a soft groan as she felt your weight pressing down on her and sighed "okay. maybe I dont want you to leave.." her hands wandering up to your waist, a sound of pleasure from you as you nodded, pleased that you´d won, that she was finally surrendering, going quiet, letting you be good to her, make her feel wanted, even then.
"see, that wasn´t so hard hm" you cooed at her, your finger tracing her facial features in awe, the way you always did in intimate moments, her eye briefly closed as she leaned into your hand, let you caress her for a moment, sounded like a purring cat, until she grew eager for a little more skin contact and said "take this off" while tugging at your shirt.
within a few seconds you were topless, and to give her a bit more you also freed yourself off your bra, leaving you on her just in your jeans, a sight that enticed her to no end, the contrast of your fully covered legs and the soft flesh of your chest, all for her, her hands running down your shoulders over your collarbones down to your tits, your head falling back, a pleased "hmm" sound as she teased you a little, kept her hands over your tits while pressing her fingertips down, feeling you up, savoring the sight of you on her like that.
"come here" she whispered and beckoned you forward, so you leaned close enough for her to wrap her arms around your back and press kisses to your neck, quiet moans from you as she breathed in your scent and kissed her way up your pulse point, sighed to herself, kept a tight grip on your back, holding you as if she was afraid you leave, after she´d begged you to do just that mere hours before.
after a minute or so of letting her have her way, you grew too needy to restrain yourself and grabbed her face to give her proper, deep kiss, to run your tongue over her lower lip and bite it lightly before turning it more intense, slowly making out with her as she caressed your hair and sighed into your mouth, your hands on her face, your hips moving a bit from sheer need, a heat between your legs as you felt her desperation, the way she moved under the blanket to sit more securely and have a stronger grip on you, her tongue soft and warm against yours, her hands firm as they wandered from your hair to your neck, pulled you closer, until you both lost your breaths and separated for a moment, shaking, deeply turned on.
"god.. I want you so fucking bad right now. but I´d pass out, I´m already dizzy... " she confessed, her head resting against your arm, her breath hot on your skin, "the second I am stronger again, I swear to god..." she uttered and gave your hips a squeeze, another wave of heat to your core from the words, the touch, her sudden intense need for you, your hand on the back of her head, cradling her almost.
"we can still do something..." you said, unable to leave it at kissing, so she nodded eagerly and asked "oh yeah? like what?".
"I could.. help myself.." you said, which made her perk up, so you went on "I could jerk off and you could watch, if you want. help me out a bit, touch me.. my chest, your fingers in my mouth, anything", a pleased smile when you saw that the image alone thrilled Van from the way her expression changed, that look she always got when she was hungry for you. she hadn´t considered it before, watching you masturbate, adding to it, when she was too weak to follow her instinct to please you, and it moved her as much as it got her hot, your way of finding moments of deep pleasure and joy to offer her even on her worst days.
"hm.. yes please..." she said and waited, giving you a light slap of encouragement, looking at you with eager eyes as you climbed off her and took your place next to her on the empty side of the bed, pulled your jeans and underwear down, and got comfortable, spread your legs apart, ran your hand over your thigh, a sound of desperation from her as she took it all in, turned her body to face you more directly, leaned over to give you a kiss while whispering "show me, show me what you do when you´re alone", "when I´m thinking of you?" you corrected and smiled while moving your hand between your legs, a nod from her, "yes, yes that´s right..", a groan when she saw you part yourself to slick your fingers up to start rubbing your clit, slowly, taking your time with it, enjoying the act of performing for a devoted witness, for her. you let out a moan as you increased the pressure and felt yourself grow even wetter, already swollen and sensitive from before, the effect that making out with Van had had from you right from the start, you regularly soaking your underwear just from messing around on the couch a bit.
Van´s gaze remained your cunt, what your fingers were doing, how you were playing with yourself, salivating almost, until she moved her eyes up to your stomach, your chest, your face, and sighed "my angel.." as she felt overcome with affection and desire from hearing your sweet sounds, the vulnerability of it all, letting her see you the way you looked when you touched yourself in the privacy and dark of your own room, the distinct sound of your wetness almost making her black out for a second, stirring her need, her mouth watering.
she ran her hand over your chest, squeezed the flesh and got you to moan louder, teased your nipple, hardened it, felt your body shudder and react, "fuck.. please yes.." you whined and nodded, begging for more of her touch, as you rubbed yourself more aggressively, still, not too hard to come already, drawing it out, the ache, to have Van lavish you with her attention, so she did, gladly, her fingers digging into the swell of your breasts, hard, until she traced a path up to your neck, your jaw as she whispered "so fucking pretty..." and swiped her thumb over your lower lip, slowly, touching the tip of your tongue, which got a pathetic moan from you, so she took the cue and smiled as she pushed her index and middle finger into your mouth, slowly sliding them over your tongue, until you closed your lips around them and started sucking, intensely, as if you were giving her fingers a blowjob, perverse with it as you sucked and swirled your tongue over them, as she lost her mind from the feel and view of it and groaned "jesus christ...", trembling as you shut your eyes and savored the feeling of her fingers in you, as you felt your cunt throbbing with the need for release and picked up the pace of your fingers again to really come hard, to use that moment of double pleasure, both your face and lower half stimulated, rushing with blood.
Van licked her lips and let you keep her fingers wet and enclosed by your lips, an appraising "god look at you baby.. always so sweet for me...", only to move her fingers once you were close to finishing and touch your inner thigh, tracing a path up to where you were a soaking mess and helping you out by touching you below your clit, while you focused on your most sensitive spot, her fingers teasing your entrance lightly, which gave you the final push and made you shudder and come undone, the orgasm hitting you hard, your face twisted to the side, sounds muffled by a pillow, Van also moaning as she felt and heard and saw you come for her, to make not just yourself but her feel good, which she did, shaking as if she´d been the one to come as you went slack and laid there, bare, panting, flushed, smiling up at the ceiling as she kept caressing your thigh while you came down form the intense high.
you reached over to pull her hand to your mouth and lick yourself off her fingers, which made her laugh to herself in a resigned way while muttering "you know I might just die from this before the cancer has a chance to kill me.." which made you laugh too, still breathless, trembling. you kissed her hand before letting it go and rolled over to prop yourself up and look at her, "you good there, love?" you asked, grinning as she fussed with your hair and smiled back at you, "oh yeah, perfect, look at me, the picture of vitality" clearly alluding to her tired, worn out state but to you she was beautiful as ever, so you leaned in closer and said "I am looking yes, and enjoying it very much" a tap to the tip of her nose before you gave her a brief kiss, a scoff from her at your comment, which didn´t conceal the pleasure she took in being admired by you, earnestly.
"I am pretty fucking spoiled... some other chronically ill lesbians would kill to be in my position" she joked as you rested your head on her lap for a moment, felt her play with a strand of your hair. "well, I think some others would love to be in mine as well, so" you countered, smiling, but Van shook her head, a bit emotional all of a sudden. "I don´t know about that..." she said quietly "god. sometimes I feel so fucking sorry that I let things get this far. really. it was pretty selfish of me to keep you to myself like this.. like I should´ve told you from the jump, I should´ve made you -" she was falling into that familiar spiral of guilt so you interrupted her, "shhh" you said while moving your head up again and looking at her "easy there, take a breath, okay? and not to be morbid but even if you died right now you´d have still already given me way more than anyone else I´ve been with, and they were younger and fitter, so..." you told her, not lying, still, playing it up a bit, to amuse her.
"well they must´ve been doing something really fucking wrong if I of all people blew your mind" she said, raising her eyebrows, her tone dry, which got a genuine laugh out of you "maybe" you said, cocking your head, touching her arm "or maybe I just love you".
you didn´t plan on saying it but it was true and you had no desire to waste your time pretending you didn´t love her when you had for weeks and weeks already. it was natural, to say it, matter of fact, and it resonated deep within her should, the utter seriousness of your words. "love", she hadn´t heard anyone tell her that in years. she couldnt help it. she teared up, "please..." she begged, almost as if to say "I don´t deserve it.. don´t.. not me..not like this.." but she knew there was nothing she could do to stop you from doing so, so she leaned in and buried her head in the crook of your neck while shedding a few tears, clinging to you, as you held her close and whispered "I love you, I do, I´m not leaving, not today, not next week, not ever. so you can stop trying to convince me."
you sounded determined in a way that cooled her burning mind, so she wiped her tears and held your face in her hands, kissed you, a faint taste of salt from her tears, an urgency to her lingering kiss before she pulled away and said "I love you too. so much." her thumb running over your cheek, your eyes closed, a smile, a reversed image of what she´d done earlier, your turn to melt into her open palm.
you felt the need to be closer again so you laid on her more directly, which got a suppressed groan from her as she laughed and said "ah, careful there.." her hand gesturing at where you were laying, only the blanket and her sweatpants separating your elbows weight from pressing against the spot where she felt the effect of the previous actions. you knew Van was sensitive, but the idea that she had gotten wet from it, that she was soaked enough for it it hurt when you applied too much force, made you want to alleviate her from the ache, to taste her, to have her relax from your mouths work. you loved being devoured by her but sometimes nothing satisfied you more in bed than knowing that you were reminding her that her body was not just diseased but deeply desired, capable of giving her deep pleasure, giving had become more intense for you after youd found out about her illness, and at times she did almost cry from it, your energy of "I will heal whatever part of you I can, I will".
"let me help you with that" you told her as you slowly moved the blanket down her legs and tugged at her waistband, smiling, "I´ll be gentle, don´t worry" assured her when you saw that she feared she might react in an undignified way, lose her composure, faint from it.
she nodded as she felt you kiss her forehead once, twice, before you moved down between her legs and pulled her pants down, glad that she wasn´t wearing underwear, getting comfortable, softly licking and kissing over her freckled thighs before doing anything else, easing her into it, enjoying the intimate, sacred vibe of having her in that weak state, in bed, while the winter sun was casting a golden hue over your bodies tangled in the sheets, your lips glued to her inner thigh, perhaps your favorite part of her, the divine tenderness of the skin there that made every little touch from you send shivers down her spine.
Van was at peace then, free of the earlier intense pain, lulled into a full bodied warm state of arousal, one that wasn´t overwhelming but got some soft moans out of her as she laced her fingers through your hair, a deep sigh of relief and pleasure as you held true to your promise and ever so gently ran your tongue over her, gave her kisses and soft licks, teased her, tasting her just on the outside at first, slowly, only the tip of your tongue, before you felt her open her legs further, silently begging for more, so you moved your tongue in deeper, your arms firmly hooked around her thighs, holding her in place, caressing her stomach, more romantic with it than in moments of a shared urgent hunger, your hands eventually moving up to find hers, staying like that as you savored her taste, the deep, barely suppressed groans from her that always drove you to go a bit harder, to hear more of that, her voice strained from what you were doing.
you remained down between her legs were for a while, both of you sinking into the delicious rhythm of it, the faint sighs and whimpers, her encouraging you "feels so good... don’t stop", finally able to let you show her how much you always wanted her without pushing you away but pulling you closer, asking for more, receiving it with a smile, her head pressed back against the pillow as you made "hmm" sounds from the pleasure of eating her out for that long, a brief pause when she looked down at you, tapped your shoulder, met your eyes and said "thank you, for staying."
Van didn´t just mean that exact moment, you could tell, so you kissed her lower stomach before looking up at her again and said "always" as if you had years and years ahead of you, because in moments like that, it felt like you did, everything was forgotten, love collapsed time and made the threat of her death vanish into thin air.
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dilfdater420 · 2 months ago
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#dilfdater420 : my list of personal Cecil Stedman headcanons (that include how he would act in a relationship/with the reader) and also my first post on this blog! if you like my headcanons feel free to request more from me! i’m always open <3
in general…
Cecil would be from the country, specifically Kentucky. I don’t know why, I just have a deep feeling he’d be there
And with that, he’d have almost everything that came with it. The accent, the love for flavorful food, the no nonsense approach to everything, the country music, and a love for hot weather.
He’d grow up on a farm, but know that there’s something out there that’s more interesting than tending to livestock and growing okra. He’d be the first of his family to go to college and eventually lead into government espionage and into the GDA director.
He’d lose his accent of course, not because he hasn’t been around his fellow countrymen, but because it wasn’t “professional”. (If you want a visual of how a country Cecil could sound watch clips of Walton Goggins from Vice Principals, it’s gold!)
Cecil’s accent could only come out in moments of pure emotion. Whether he’s furious, ecstatic, or devastated, that’s when the facade cracks and the man he’s built up to be is gone.
I feel like he might also have went back to his accent when he was in prison simply because he didn’t give a shit anymore.
Other than his southern background, Cecil would be the type to really love love. He’d cherish that feeling of not only being loved, but loving others. Yet another thing to push away in his line of work.
For example, when he develops deep connections —or at least connections that are deeper than surface level— with people he doesn’t like the idea of parting with that feeling. With that, he can get really selfish when a force of love that he cherishes gets taken away. In execution, this can look like Donald getting revived without his knowledge because Cecil cares about his right hand man.
He keeps this really well hidden because his line of work requires cold, uncaring actions. So if he likes someone, he’ll subconsciously tell the person in question through subtle decisions.
At his big age he would’ve thought that this is something he’d overcome, but love prevails.
in a relationship…
The selfishness is on unmatched proportions. Keeping you safe is a top priority. You’re scrubbed from any sort of record, no one’s allowed to know you’re entangled with him. He’s got too many targets on his back.
And if you’re a hero? Ooo… it gets worse…
A lot of coddling! Comes off like harsh commands to fall back, outsiders think Cecil hates you because he’s so mean, constantly laserd on you. When in reality, he’s in the midst of a professional entanglement.
After years of this and it not going well with the maybe, at max, two recipients of his treatment he knows to keep high walls so he can’t fall in love easily. It always spells a lot of stress on the other person, and then him.
But he unfortunately couldn’t have it any other way! He’s a control freak.
If a relationship is successful though, he’s a happy guy. He has a reprieve waiting for him every day from the murky landscape of a world he lives in. It’s probably like a dopamine boost that he has something normal, and on all his terms? Might as well be cocaine
He’d very easily become addicted.
Despite his hard grips on safety, he’s actually a pretty chill partner. He’d like a normal morning where there’s a scent of bacon cooking on the skillet, sun ebbing from the half opened curtains from you not trying to disturb him—reminds him of childhood.
And if he doesn’t awake to that, even better that his lover be with him in his arms.
He’d adore the small moments when you’re both in the living room watching a movie, going out for dinner in a restaurant where you’re the only two in there, or dancing to some jazzy blues in the bedroom. These are the times that he gets to feel normal.
It’s priceless to him.
Oh! Cherry on top, around you in private, he let’s his country come out!
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I have more so if someone wants to Idk… request I write some more I’d probably love that Idk… (cheeky)
Clearly I thrive on attention lmao
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