#does anyone know how to stop these thoughts?

[solaceseven]

THINGS THEY DO THAT MAKE YOU SECOUND-GUESS YOUR 'FRIENDSHIP'

→ pairings: gojo satoru, geto suguru, kento nanami, ryomen sukuna, toji fushiguro.

→ a/n: finally had the time to write something!! school has been keeping me busy!! implied female reader for toji’s part.

GOJO - being touchy.

you’re used to gojo’s touch.

the way he drapes himself over your shoulders like a human scarf, pulling you into his side without a second thought. the way his hand finds the small of your back when he guides you through a crowd, his palm pressing firm against you, like he’s staking a silent claim. you’ve grown accustomed to the way he plays with your fingers absentmindedly—twisting your rings, tracing circles over your knuckles—while he rambles about something completely unrelated.

it’s always been like this.

that’s what you tell yourself, at least. that it doesn’t mean anything. that he’s like this with everyone.

but lately, it’s been getting harder to believe that.

because his touches have started to linger. his fingers don’t just graze your wrist anymore—they rest there, warm and grounding, his thumb brushing slow, deliberate strokes against your pulse. when he reaches for something above your head, he doesn’t just stretch over you; he presses his chest against your back, close enough that you feel the heat of him seep into your skin.

and then there’s the way he looks at you.

like right now.

you’re both sprawled out on his couch, half-watching some random movie he insisted was a classic (it’s not), when you feel it—his fingers, absentmindedly tracing shapes on your wrist.

you try not to react, try to focus on the screen, but your breath catches anyway. if he notices, he doesn’t say anything. he just keeps going, slow and lazy, the pads of his fingers skating along your skin like he’s mapping out something only he can see.

your pulse jumps when his fingers move up—tracing the inside of your forearm now, featherlight. it’s not accidental. you know it. he knows it.

but he doesn’t stop.

you sneak a glance at him, expecting that usual smug grin, but he’s still staring at the screen. too casual. too relaxed. he’s testing you.

like he’s waiting for you to do something about it.

you should move your arm. you should pull away. you should call him out.

but you don’t.

because the way he’s touching you now—it’s not friendly. it’s not casual. it’s not something he does with anyone else.

and the worst part?

he knows you know it.

GETO - never correcting people when they assume you’re his partner.

you don’t think anything of it at first.

you and geto move through the grocery store like you always do—bickering over which brand of cereal is better, tossing random snacks into the cart, laughing when he makes fun of your terrible attempts at balancing fruit on top of an already overflowing pile of groceries.

it’s easy. it’s comfortable. it’s just you and him.

and then you get to checkout.

the cashier, an older woman with kind eyes, watches as geto effortlessly lifts the heavy bags before you can even reach for them. he does it without thinking, just like how he had taken the cart from you earlier, just like how he always opens doors for you, just like how his hand had rested on the small of your back when guiding you through the aisles.

she smiles warmly.

“you two make such a lovely couple.”

you freeze.

your brain short-circuits for a split second, mouth already opening to correct her, but then—then you hear nothing from geto.

not a single word of clarification. not even a chuckle or a shake of his head.

nothing.

instead, he just hums, tilting his head slightly as if considering the statement. he doesn’t deny it. doesn’t laugh it off. just lets the words sit there, completely unbothered.

your head snaps toward him, eyes wide.

he meets your gaze, entirely too calm, a slow smirk forming at the corner of his lips. and then—because he’s absolutely insufferable—he leans in slightly, voice smooth as silk.

“you hear that?” he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. “we’re a lovely couple.”

you want to strangle him.

your reaction must be obvious because the cashier just beams, clearly convinced she was right. “oh, young love is so sweet. you take good care of them, dear.”

geto chuckles, and before you can protest, he effortlessly places a hand on the back of your head, ruffling your hair like you’re some flustered little thing.

“always,” he says smoothly.

you don’t remember the rest of the transaction. you’re too busy contemplating whether it’s legal to strangle someone with a grocery bag.

as you’re walking out, geto leans in again, voice dripping with amusement.

“you could’ve corrected them,” he muses, lips dangerously close to your ear. “but you didn’t.”

your stomach flips. you hate that he’s right.

NANAMI - always taking care of you.

you don’t plan on staying this late.

but time slips away between deadlines and last-minute emails, and before you know it, the office is nearly empty, the sky outside painted in deep shades of navy. you sigh, rubbing your temples, already dreading the long commute home.

by the time you step out onto the quiet street, the city lights glowing around you, your phone buzzes.

you don’t have to check to know who it is.

nanami: where are you?

your stomach flips.

you: just leaving work. why?

the message is barely delivered before another one comes in.

nanami: stay there. i’ll be there in five.

you frown at your screen. he was nearby?

true to his word, exactly five minutes later, a familiar figure approaches.

nanami, dressed in his usual crisp attire, looking entirely too put together for this hour. he doesn’t say anything at first, just glances at you, scanning you over like he’s checking for any signs of exhaustion.

“you should have left earlier,” he says, voice even, but you catch the slight furrow of his brow.

you roll your eyes. “yeah, well, i got caught up.”

“hm.” he exhales, the sound bordering on exasperation, before tilting his head toward the direction of your apartment. “let’s go.”

you blink. “what?”

“i’ll walk you home.”

you huff a laugh. “nanami, it’s fine. i can handle walking alone.”

he gives you a flat look, as if the idea is so ridiculous it doesn’t even warrant a response. Instead of arguing, he simply starts walking, fully expecting you to follow.

and—of course—you do.

it’s not the first time he’s done this. You know it won’t be the last.

he doesn’t hover, doesn’t lecture you about staying late. but his presence is solid beside you, steady and unwavering. his hands stay in his pockets, but you know—if anything were to happen, if anyone so much as looked at you the wrong way—he’d be on them in a second.

as you near your building, you sneak a glance at him. “you didn’t have to do this, you know.”

nanami sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose like you’re the one giving him a headache. “i know.”

“…then why do you?”

he stops walking. turns to face you, studying you for a long moment.

then, with a sigh—like he’s so tired of explaining the obvious—he simply mutters:

“because you don’t take care of yourself.”

and that’s that. no room for debate. no further explanation.

your heart stumbles in your chest.

because he doesn’t say i worry about you. he doesn’t say i do it because I care.

but he doesn’t have to.

the truth lingers in the quiet, in the way he watches you, in the way he makes sure you’re safe—every single time.

and when you step inside your building, looking back one last time, you catch him still standing there. waiting.

making sure you’re okay.

like he always does.

SUKUNA - being unreasonably jealous.

it starts off as nothing.

a passing comment here, an unimpressed scoff there. sukuna has always been blunt, always had a sharp tongue and an even sharper glare. but lately, you start to notice a pattern—one that becomes impossible to ignore.

it happens again tonight.

you’re out with friends, the atmosphere light and easy, laughter filling the air. you’re mid-conversation with some guy—a friend of a friend, nothing special—when you feel it.

that presence.

it’s not loud or obvious, but it’s there. a weight lingering at your back, pressing into your skin before you even turn around.

and when you do—

sukuna is already watching.

seated across the table, one arm draped over the back of his chair, his gaze locked onto you with an expression that makes your stomach flip. bored. blank. irritated.

you try to ignore it. you keep talking, keep laughing at whatever the guy is saying, but it doesn’t matter. because every time you sneak a glance in sukuna’s direction, his eyes are still on you.

unwavering. unrelenting.

you swallow, trying to shake the weird tension creeping up your spine. but then the guy leans in slightly—just slightly—and that’s all it takes.

there’s a sharp scrape of a chair against the floor.

and then sukuna is there, standing beside you, a hand dropping heavily onto your shoulder.

“alright,” he drawls, voice slow, lazy, but carrying something unmistakably sharp. “this conversation looks thrilling.”

the guy stiffens. you do, too.

you glance up at sukuna, narrowing your eyes. “what are you doing?”

“listening.” his fingers tap idly against your shoulder, his weight sinking into the space beside you like he belongs there. “should i join? or is this, what—special?”

your brows furrow. “are you serious?”

he tilts his head slightly, feigning confusion, but you know that look. the glint in his eyes, the smirk barely tugging at his lips—he’s enjoying this.

the guy across from you clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “uh—i was just—”

“no, no,” sukuna interrupts smoothly, finally dragging his gaze away from you to look at him. “you were just what?”

the guy hesitates, then shakes his head. “never mind.”

and just like that, he stands, mumbling something about needing another drink before walking away.

you whip around to face sukuna fully, shoving his arm off your shoulder. “what the hell is wrong with you?”

he doesn’t move, doesn’t even pretend to be remorseful. if anything, he looks amused. “relax,” he hums. “didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

you scoff. “oh? and how exactly was he looking at me?”

sukuna shrugs, completely nonchalant. “like he could have you.” his head tilts, eyes flickering over your face. “and he can’t.”

your heart stumbles.

you open your mouth, then close it. because what do you even say to that? what does he even mean by that?

he smirks at your silence, reaching out to flick your forehead lightly before leaning in—just close enough that your breath catches.

“relax, brat,” he murmurs, voice deep, low, too much. “i’m just looking out for you.”

you should shove him away. roll your eyes. call him out for acting like an overprotective asshole.

but instead, you just sit there, pulse unsteady, second-guessing everything you thought you knew about this friendship.

because you know sukuna. and you know damn well—

this wasn’t just him looking out for you.

TOJI - flirting with you consistently.

it starts small. barely noticeable at first.

a lazy smirk here, a lingering touch there.

you don’t even think much of it in the beginning. it’s just toji being toji, right? he flirts with everyone—cashiers, waitresses, random people in passing. it’s just how he is.

except… it’s different with you.

because when he leans in close, voice dropping lower just for you to hear— “that color looks real good on ya, sweetheart. what, tryna drive me crazy?”—his eyes don’t leave your face. because when his fingers skim the small of your back, guiding you through a crowd, they stay there a second too long to be casual. because when he throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his warmth, he’s comfortable like he belongs there—like he’s claiming that space.

and then there are the compliments.

not just the casual you look nice or that suits you. no, never that simple.

“bet guys lose their damn minds over you.” he says it so offhandedly, like it’s just a fact—just something everyone knows.

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “yeah, sure.”

“i mean it,” he murmurs, and you hate the way your stomach flips when his gaze settles on you, something dark and unreadable in his eyes. “if i were them, i wouldn’t let you outta my sight.”

you tell yourself you’re imagining it—that he’s just messing with you. that’s what he does.

but then it keeps happening.

every single time, without fail.

you’re just trying to grab something from a high shelf? suddenly, he’s behind you, reaching over your head, his chest nearly brushing against your back. he doesn’t have to get that close. he knows it. you know it. but he does it anyway, voice low in your ear as he hands you whatever you needed.

“next time, just ask me, yeah? don’t gotta strain that pretty little neck of yours.”

you push him away, muttering something under your breath, and he just laughs, all smug amusement.

he’s always touching you, like he can’t help himself. a hand grazing the back of your neck when he adjusts your hoodie. his palm resting against your thigh when he leans in to say something. he doesn’t cling to you, doesn’t make a big show of it—but it’s there. subtle. constant. a quiet, unspoken thing.

and then—then, there are the moments that really get to you.

like when you’re out with friends, sitting side by side, and his fingers find the hem of your sleeve. absentmindedly playing with the fabric, rolling it between his fingertips. he doesn’t even seem to notice he’s doing it, just listening to the conversation, relaxed and completely at ease. like touching you is second nature to him.

or when you’re waiting in line for something, standing close, and he leans in just slightly, dropping his voice low.

“keep looking at me like that, sweetheart,” he murmurs, eyes flicking to your lips for half a second. “gonna start thinkin’ you want somethin’ from me.”

your breath catches.

and the worst part? the absolute worst part?

he sees it. every damn time.

sees the way your pulse flutters at your throat. sees the way your fingers twitch, like you don’t know what to do with them. sees the way you avoid his gaze, pretending like your entire body isn’t reacting to him.

and every time, without fail—he just smirks.

like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. like he’s enjoying it. like he’s waiting—patient, unhurried—for you to break first.

and the thing is…

you think he knows you will.

eventually.

[kamitv]

Your best friend Sukuna is also a complete pervert.

The guy just won’t stop jerking off in your bedroom! The first time you caught him, you thought he’d stop considering how that only resulted in you using that filthy mouth of yours to milk him for all he’s worth. And yet… here you are walking into your bedroom to find Sukuna fisting his fat cock again.

It’s funny because now you officially note that not only is he a slut but, your best friend Sukuna is a pervert. As if that wasn’t obvious from the first time.

Standing with his stocky tattooed back facing you, this time unaware of your early arrival into your shared apartment, Sukuna’s busy groaning into a pair of your panties—pressing the flimsy red fabric up against his greedy nose and jerking his cock further into his fist with each inhale he takes.

“S-Shiiit,” This is the only time you ever hear the man stutter. To which he follows up with a whorish moan as his eyes travel to the back of his skull. “I fuckin’ need you-, agh.”

You’d think that anyone in your situation would’ve reacted to this by now but instead you just stand there and watch him for a bit, wondering how long he’ll get off like this until he realizes you’re there.

His cock is lathered in spit and cum, indicating that he’s been in your room for a while now, and you can hear the creamy shhlick that follows his every jerky hand movement. Then comes his groans—you’ve always thought they were the prettiest thing. Deep and husk, an underlining rasp carrying within that throaty sound of pleasure… yeah, he’s always been a slut.

But this? Oh this is a new level for him. Because not only is he getting off to your scent but he’s also lulling his tongue out to press it against the spread of the lacy garment, licking up whatever remains of your taste and moaning at the flavor that hits his needy tongue.

The moan he let out sent a shiver of pure arousal down your spine and straight to your core. His moans are so rare but god does it get you worked up every single time.

And it’s in watching him for a few minutes longer that you realize you had those very same panties on just the other day—something about him licking and sniffing all over something you’d just worn makes your thighs clench together and a puddle of arousal builds up within your current pair.

Sukuna still has yet to realize you’re standing there watching him since he’s lost in his own little world so, he soon tugs your panties away from his face with a very faint whine and messily wraps the fabric around his throbbing cock. Now that was a sight for sore eyes.

His jaw falls open and you can only see just the side of his face but his cheeks are reddened and his eyelashes are fluttering. There’s a vein popping out along his jawline, showing just how tense and needy he is as he starts bucking his hips forward and fucks his plump cock against the fabric of your underwear.

Hunching forward a little, his free hand grips onto your nightstand and he’s letting out all kinds of groans and grunts—searing out a low rasp of your name as his body heats up at just the thought of you.

Sukuna can’t help but imagine what you’d think if you caught him like this, how pathetic he probably seems right now, how desperate. Oh, but he just can’t help it. Ever since you caught him, his perverted side has only gotten worse.

The same panties he’s jerking off with right now are the same ones you wore exactly three days ago. He knows that because you were wearing shorts that day and he couldn’t help the way his eyes fell onto the slutty curve of your ass as a peek of red popped out from your shorts while you bent over to pick something up.

The moment you were out of his sight that day, he jerked off to the thought of you until his hand cramped up. Then there were the flashbacks from when your mouth was on him—the way you looked on your knees, how perfectly his cock slotted into the back of that slutty throat of yours, and how stupidly gorgeous you were with teary eyes and gurgled moans of his names slipping from your lips.

So lost in these same thoughts again, Sukuna doesn’t register the fact that you’ve finally called his name and made your presence known until he feels that soft hand of yours gently press against his shoulder blade.

A whine, crisp and unfiltered comes flying past his lips before he can even try to hold it back and then his darkened-, no, weakened maroon eyes are falling on you and—

“‘Kuna,” You purr, to which he cums into your panties without even trying to hold himself back. “I thought I told you about jerking off in my bedroom?”

His eyes nearly cross with how good his orgasm feels crashing over him, hot ‘n thick spurts of cum gushing from his reddened cockhead before you move your arms to wrap around his waist. Sukuna can’t even keep up with you until it’s too late, suddenly your hands are meeting his tip and you squeeze, preventing him from cumming anymore.

Some obscene sound he didn’t realize he was capable of making exits his whiny throat and his eyes widen beyond belief. “O-Oh my—,” Sukuna just chokes on words, body stilling in an overflow of pleasure for a great deal of reasons, all pertaining to you. “F-Fuuck, let.. h-ha-ah, let me cum,” He’s sputtering out, brain and body malfunctioning.

You flash a pout to mock him, “Should I? Even after you’ve been such a perv? I mean, sneaking into my room again, jerking off with my underwear… I dunno if I should let you do anything after all this.”

His body folds forward a bit but your grip on him doesn’t falter. “Please?” Sukuna chokes, although this time his voice is small—like the word kills him to utter, “I’ll…” He gasps a bit as your grip looses, “I’ll be so fuckin’ good from now on.”

“Promise?” You say in a sly whisper.

Sukuna feels like he can’t even breathe anymore, “P-Promise,” He utters, feeling your grip loosen entirely and watching as he finishes right into your palms. “Fuuuck..”

It’s a big sloppy mess that’s left in your hands as you stroke him through it from behind, going as far as planting these cute lil’ kisses against the dark ink on his back. Sukuna’s head spins and he can’t even begin to fathom the true chokehold you seem to have on him.

He’s never been like this for anyone. Sure, he’s known you for years and you’ve been by his side no matter how much of a dick he’s been to you or other people but, surely that doesn’t warrant the affection he’s beginning to harbor for you.

Perhaps he’s just confusing it with lust. Yeahh, that’s it. Sukuna doesn’t like you or anything, he just wants to fuck you. And okay, maybe there’s a hidden desire deep within to be kinder to you if it means he gets to feel you pressing such sweet kisses against his hot skin more often…

Hell, by the time he finally stops making a mess of your hands, he’s just letting out these quiet pants of pure embarrassment. Glaring off to the side with that brat-like pout on his face, ‘hating’ every second of this.

Especially as you push up on your toes and kiss behind his ear, moving to whisper, “What’s this? Sukuna, are you… embarrassed?”

God, he can’t stand you. Ignoring your teasing entirely, Sukuna reaches over for some tissues to help you clean your hands off and as soon as that’s done, he quickly stumbles his bulky body away from you.

Your best friend is such a large man and yet he jerks off to you in a way that makes you wonder if he’d let you literally walk all over him.

Tucking his indecency back into his sweats, he’s yet to utter a single word to you. Part of him is worried that his voice will come out in a pitch that’s rather foreign to how he typically speaks but, he’ll never tell you that.

No, instead, he just clears his throat and tries to go as far as exit your bedroom.

You scoff, “I know you’re not leaving after all that.”

On instant, as if there was some kind of underlying command in your statement and he was nothing more than some big dog heading to the unspoken heel, Sukuna halts in his tracks. “…And if I am?” He finally manages out, voice an entire octave lower than you expected it to be.

Your arms cross and you frown at him. “So, you come in my bedroom while I’m not here, jerk off with my panties, cum in my hands, barely clean me up, and then leave?”

He’s quiet for a lengthy second or two before returning to his usual cocky demeanor, glancing back at you and smirking. “Yeah,” Sukuna hums nonchalantly—as if he wasn’t moaning like a bitch a few seconds ago & knowing damn well if you told him to get down on his knees for you right now, his body would obey your every word without second thought.

You make this expression that lets him know you’re annoyed but for some reason, that only makes his heart throb weirdly. Then you look away and oh he misses your glaring eyes on him already.

“Unless,” He continues in an attempt to gain both your attention and the control of the situation again. “You wanted something from me?”

Unintentionally giving him what he wants, you spare him another glance—your gaze firm. “An apology maybe.” You say with a shrug of your shoulders.

Sukuna chuckles, “For what?”

You blink. “Jerking off in here after I asked you not to.”

“Oh.” You can’t stand it when he acts like this because next comes the most monotone & emotionless voice he can muster as he mocks your facial expression and murmurs, “I’m sorry.”

Your face twists up even further in irritation and his cock twitches as you scoff, “The fuck was that?”

Sukuna bites back a smile, “An apology, obviously.”

“A bullshit one, yeah.” You bite back, crossing your arms over one another, “Get over here and apologize to me properly.”

He would put it on his own life that he hates everything about you right now because the way in which his body moves without hesitation is concerning. Sukuna’s walking closer to you before he even realizes, soon towering over you and staring down into your eyes as indifferently as he can.

As if the genuine annoyance and frustration on your face wasn’t making his cock stiffen again…

Your best friend narrows his eyes a bit, “What kinda ‘proper apology’ do you want from me—“

“Get on your knees.” You cut off.

Sukuna’s breath hitches but he hopes you don’t notice it (you do). Scoffing, and acting like he hasn’t pictured this very moment before, he slowly lowers down onto his knees before you and when he looks up…

Well, from this angle you get the perfect view of his cock poking up against his sweats, the sight making you smile—he just got off a few minutes ago and yet here he is hard again just because you ordered him around a bit.

You loom a bit closer to him and move your foot in between his legs, tapping the side of his knee and motioning for him to spread his legs a bit more. Sukuna hates the way his thighs part so obediently wider for you, allowing you to have enough space to stand in between them.

A smile sparks across your face, “You look kinda cute from this angle, y’know.”

He groans, “Shut up ‘n tell me how you want me to apologize already.”

Suddenly your foot is felt pressing against his throbbing bulge and his hips shift forward on instinct. You were… lightly stepping on his erection. Sukuna feels like he’s getting high off of you again and you were still barely even doing anything.

“Can you put your hands behind your back for me?” You request next.

To which he mentally says ‘hell no’ and peers up at you as if you were crazy, “What the fuck does that have to do with an—“

“You wanna make things up to me, don’t you?”

His lips seal shut but you can see a vein popping out in his forehead. He’s so annoyed and flustered that it angers him. Swatting his hands behind his back, Sukuna cocks his head to the side and glares hard, “Now what.”

Your hand meets his chin and you tip his head further up before pulling out your phone, “Say cheese!”

His eyes widen, “You—“

Before he can get out whatever string of curses you’re sure he had for you, you’ve taken over thirty pictures of your best friend on his knees, with his hands behind his back, and your foot stepping on his cock—which you felt angrily twitch from the moment you pulled your phone out until suddenly something wet met your skin.

Looking down as soon as you’re done taking as many pictures as you could before he smacked your phone away, you end up scoffing. “Sukuna, did you just…” Your voice dies off as you bring a hand up over your mouth.

His left eye twitches and his entire face is beat red, “I’m gonna kill you.”

“You just came again. From that??” You make fun of him anyway, taking in the mix of different emotions swirling all through his face.

There’s no change in his usual rough tone but his eyes appear as though he might be serious as he says, “I’m giving you five seconds to run.”

You start laughing so hard in his face that you can’t help but stumble back and plop down on your bed, giggling until you lose your breath. The sound of your laughter makes Sukuna want to smash his head against a wall—he hates you so much.

So much so that he soon comes staggering up to his feet and looms closer to you as you writhe in amusement. It’s not until your laughing comes to a stop that you realize he’s just standing over you with a ticked off look on his face.

As you catch your breath, you sit up at the edge of your bed and you’re suddenly reminded of the sheer size difference between you two. Sure, you just had him on his knees for you but fuck is he huge—you almost forgot.

Batting your lashes, your smile slowly fades, “What? Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“You’ve been making fun of me and teasing me all day,” Sukuna rasps, leaning down and pressing his palms into the bed beside your thighs. His face gets awfully close to yours, “You think I like being like this? ‘Think I like the way my body reacts to your every fuckin’ word?”

He sounds angry but he’s.. confessing? In a way?

“I can’t stand it. Can’t stand the way you…” He trails off with a groan as he leans down and presses his face into the crook of your neck. Your head instinctively lifts and you feel him inhale strongly. “The way you smell,” Sukuna finishes, moving a careful hand to your thigh and squeezing lightly, “The way you feel.”

You're the one gasping now, lashes fluttering at the need radiating off of his body as he nuzzles into you, “Sukuna, I—“

“The way you fuckin’ sound,” He practically growls his words out this time, “I know you heard me earlier when I said I need you.”

He pulls away just to look you in the eyes. His other hand meets your vacant thigh and you feel him gently parting your legs, “So tell me, do you still want an apology or do you jus’ want me to show you how bad I want you?”

Scoffing, “I think I have a good idea but,” Your eyes wander off for a second and Sukuna knows exactly where this is going, you did the same thing last time before you ended up in between his legs. “How about this; if I let you fuck me, will you finally stop jerking off in my room?” You end up offering as your gaze finds him once more.

Sukuna merely nods, even though his entire body felt a desperate shudder at the prospect of finally being inside you. Feeling you around him, hearing your moans clearly, watching the way your face twists up in pleasure, and being able to drag his touch all over your body?

He probably would've came again right then and there if it wasn't for his past few abrupt back-to-back orgasms.

And with that, your best friend leans up and trails a hand down to his sweatpants, flashing a knowing smirk down at you, “Depends on how well you take my cock.”

[monstersholygrail]

Yandere!Work Colleague

Male Yandere x Fem!Reader ||

Your colleague forms a new crush on you once you tell him you like his special coffee and now he won’t stop giving you more. He’ll give you everything

Yandere!Work Colleague tries to act normal but is way too shy to ask out his office crush. He’s seen them around the office, always looking so confident. But he can never get up the nerve to talk to them, ask them out. Even when working on a project with them, the most he’ll say is, “Here’s y-your tea— your coffee, I mean!” And hand it to them before scurrying off. Of course making sure to put his ‘special cream’ into the drink beforehand.

But only now as he heads back to the tray of drinks, his brows furrow, not seeing your drink in the tray. He swore he had just moved it a second ago. His face drops as he realizes there must’ve been a mix-up. He whirls around only to watch in horror as you drink the coffee with his personal ingredient in it.

He swears he’s not breathing as you take a few long gulps. He hopes to every God there is that you won’t notice anything off about it. Sweat dots at his brow as you place the coffee down and lick your lips in a way that curiously has his cock twitching.

“Hmm. This is better than usual, thanks,” you comment, so casually, as if you hadn’t just turned his entire world upside down.

Everything was different now, he saw everything in a new and shiny bright light. And all those lights always came back to you. His whole world now revolving around you. The way you talked to him so effortlessly, smiled at him, acknowledged him. He’d never experienced anything like it before. Not from his old office crush or anyone. You were… special.

Since that day he’s been chasing after you like a dog with a bone. Always offering to carry your stacks of paperwork from meetings to your desk. He makes sure to linger so that everyone in the office will gossip and wonder if you two are together. If he’s asked he’ll say yes, if only to live in the possibility that one day you will be.

He does everything he can for you during group assignments. Getting done work you might’ve not gotten too. You were tired and you needed your sleep. And he just so happened to glance at your computer as you were signing in one day. So signing in himself to get some work done for you was simply just a kind thing to do from one colleague to another. Of course he’d never do it for anyone else besides you. No matter how much his coworkers complained about all he does for you around the office.

Most of all though, he still always makes sure to bring you your morning coffee every day. The way your face lights up at the sight of him with the cup, your smiles and happiness just for him. No one else would dare, they know by now you’re basically his. Besides… no one else can make it like him. You’ve said so yourself.

He makes sure every morning to prepare his special ingredient with extra care. Images of you flashing across his mind as he slowly pumps his cock. Imagining how you’d look all pretty and split open on his length. How you’d call out his name and ask why he didn’t do this sooner. Squeezing his cock and pretending it’s you milking him for all your worth.

When he finally cums straight into your coffee he fantasizes it’s his thick ropes of cum shooting straight into your womb. A low raspy groan rips from his throat, his hips jerking as he just keeps coming to the thought of you. The coffee is nearly overflowing by the time he’s done.

He knows you’ll be grateful for the extra bit of drink, your lips pulled into a bright smile. He wonders how bright it would look wrapped around his length and he shudders as he hands it to you.

If he didn’t have to get to his desk, he’d watch you drink every last drop of it. Relishing in the fact that for now, at least, he’s inside of you in one way. Knowing soon he’ll be inside you in every way humanly possible.

But for now he’s content to simply bring you your coffee every morning and anything else you need handled. He’ll gladly take care of you in any way possible. Someday he’ll take care of you in every way. And nobody will be able to stop him.

[krazycat6167]

Say No

(written for @keferon’s Apocalyptic Ponyo AU. A bit of Jazz and Prowl set after most of the events of the au. Enjoy!)

-.-.-.-

Prowl watches from the sidelines as Jazz goes through yet another interview. He can’t shake the feeling that there is something off with Jazz. That there is something that isn’t right. 

Oh sure, Jazz looks happy, but Prowl doesn’t trust it. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t trust it though, so he’s scrutinizing Jazz and his behavior to try and figure it out. 

The other orca mer is smiling, talking as animated as he usually does (though notably trying to be polite by staying in one general area), using his hands as he speaks. Those are normal Jazz things to do, even if he seems a bit…more Jazz-y? He’s using a bit more inflection, slightly more exaggerated movements, a smidge extra charm behind the smile. The effect is entertaining, sure, but-.

But…he is…being entertaining. He is here, in an interview, answering questions both benign and personal, and he is putting on a show. 

Prowl’s gaze flicks around the room. Multiple cameras, stage lights, a dazzled audience. 

The interviewer, masterfully directing Jazz through the narrative with light and heavy topics and making sure to end on a high note. 

Jazz, big movements, big personality, put on display like a thing to be marveled at. 

A large grin that had been bothering Prowl the whole time because it is wrong. And now he knows it’s because it is fake. 

When the interview ends and Jazz swims offstage, Prowl takes his arm and leads him away. Away from the crowds, the lights, the cameras. Just away. From everything. Anyone who even thinks of approaching the two as they leave take one look at Prowl's hard expression and become too scared to even try. 

“While I enjoy swimming with you,” Jazz says when they are properly away from everyone, “is there a reason we left so quick?”

“You were uncomfortable.” Prowl answers. 

“Is that so?” Jazz says, amused. 

Prowl stops and turns to Jazz, stopping the other mer cold with a hard stare. “Yes, you were. You were putting on a show like it was still an obligation you owed for living somewhere when in reality you don’t owe anyone anything of yourself that you don’t want to give.”

The fact that Jazz looks shocked by this makes Prowl’s heart clench painfully. 

Prowl takes both of Jazz’s large hands in his. “I’m sorry,” he says while giving his hands a reassuring squeeze, “that I didn’t see it sooner. You did so many interviews and I didn’t see how similar they were to that tank until now.”

“Wha- hey, no,” Jazz brings their hands closer to his chest. “don’t apologize for this when it wasn’t even your fault. They asked to hear my story and-“

“And you could’ve told them no.” Prowl interrupts. “You don’t have to do these things anymore. You can say no. You can leave off you want. You aren’t confined to a small space anymore with no escape and no privacy. You can say no.”

“I- I can say no.” Jazz whispers like it’s revelation straight from the vents below. “I can leave.”

“You don’t have to do things you don’t want.”

Jazz floats there, clutching Prowls hands to his chest like they’re a lifeline, as his gaze drifts down in thought. “What I want…”

Slowly, Jazz looks up at Prowl. “I want you to show me that Crystal Reef you were talking about.”

Prowl smiles. “This way then.”

-.-.-.-

Two of the things Jazz loves about Mer society are the pouches that he can carry stuff—his stuff—in and the phones. After years of seeing humans use them (filming him, taking pictures of him), he now has one of his very own. An underwater phone, a fish phone, a fone (“It’s funny Prowler, trust me.”). It’s awesome!

Not very awesome right this second though. 

It’s vibrating, meaning someone is calling him. The screen only shows a frequency instead of a name, meaning it’s someone he doesn’t know. 

He sees Prowl look at him curiously from where he’s been sunbathing next to him as Jazz answers.

“Hello?”

“Hello! I am Undertow, a reporter with The Tuning Trident. Is this Jazz?”

Jazz sits up. “Yeah, I’m Jazz.”

“Excellent!” Undertow says, chipper. “We have been working on an article covering your story and the trials you went through. We here at The Tuning Trident are dedicated to bringing our readers the most accurate information that we can provide and we were wondering if you could come over sometime within the next few days to answer a few questions we have about your experience.”

Jazz freezes. He…doesn’t really want to talk about it with reporters anymore. He’ll just have to politely turn them down. 

Jazz opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. His throat is suddenly dry. He swallows his trepidation and tries again. “Uh…”

Is that it? Is that all he can bring himself to say that isn’t a fake and enthusiastic agreement?

The reporter on the phone starts talking again. “Of course, if coming in is an inconvenience, we can have a small team come to you to conduct the interview. We are very flexible here, so whatever may be best for you, we can certainly work with!”

That was even worse! He didn’t want nosy strangers coming to his favorite spots!

But he still can’t say no. 

His gaze flicks to Prowl, desperately and silently pleading for help. 

Prowl sits up and holds his hand open to Jazz. Jazz gives him the phone. 

“I regret to inform you,” Prowl says with no regret or remorse, “that Jazz won’t be doing any interviews for the time being.”

“It’ll just be a quick thing.” Undertow promises in a small tinny voice that Jazz can still hear. “Only a couple of questions to clarify a few facts.”

“No.”

“I- but- who is this? Who are you to speak for Jazz?”

“His manager.” Prowl's tone turns cold. “He is not available for an interview at this time.”

“Why not?”

“Jazz has his reasons and he doesn’t owe them to you. Good day.”

“Wait, if you could just tell us-“

“No.” Prowl hangs up. “The nerve of some Mer, it’s like they forgot that you're an apex- urk!”

Jazz hugs him, eyes shut tight, tucking his head into Prowl’s shoulder, and squeezes. “Thank you.” He whispers, voice wobbly. 

Prowl returns the hug, using one hand to cradle Jazz’s head. “Of course. You deserve some peace.”

“I tried.” Jazz says to Prowl’s shoulder. “I wanted to say no. I tried but I couldn’t. I couldn’t get that one word out and I tried.”

“I know.” Prowl pats Jazz’s head through his beanie. “It’s okay. You keep trying. And until you are able, I can say no for you whenever you need.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

[cvnt4him]

I think tobios the kind of guy to really REALLY be in love with his first love. I mean this guy would be obsessed with whoever took his virginity, I solely believe that.

He literally would be so in love with you without even noticing. He would love being close to you, he'd get all smiley with you and y'know his smile isn't all that but when he's genuine with it, it's the prettiest thing to see on him.

Holding his face and peppering kisses on him in front of the team, Hinata and tsukishima teasing him for it. He groans but ultimately loves it. He loves you.

When you met his sister she was kind of scary. She had this unapproachable look about her, there was so much stress and pressure to be good and great for his family. But she was actually really sweet, really interesting and a genuinely great sister for the most part.

His grandfather was absolutely hilarious and tobio wouldn't admit it to you or anyone else, but it meant a lot to him that his grandfather actually took a liking toward you. The way you unintentionally made his grandfather crack up at your occasional mishaps on your words and the weird little sounds you made when you realized you fucked up your sentence, or when you sounded so robotic to remember the interesting things you told yourself you were interested in for the sake of his grandfather.

I like to think kageyama is REALLY emotionally constipated to the point he knows NOTHING....about love or even being interested/attracted to someone. He gains such a genuine attraction towards you, it physically hurts him. He can't help but to groan in some sort of annoyance when he sees you because he knows his body betrays him. It always makes it clear that he's happy to have you around.

Whether he becomes a flushed mess, his stupid cheeks filling with blood and getting all warm and red. His ear become impossibly warm as well, he swears he can't even hear you speaking to him. Or whether it be his eyes wandering down to your lips, his thoughts thinking about how he loves it when you kiss him. He prefers those quick kisses you give, to him those are more than enough. His eyes began to trail all over your body, his mind thinking about every part of your body they stop on

His eyes move to your hands, goodness does he love holding them. He really does. When he holds your hand I think he would often squeeze them for a little, like you could just be hiding hands and a for the most part gentle squeeze comes out of nowhere. He holds it in a tight grasp like that for a while before the tightness retreats.

It's so sweet really. You call his name and his blue eyes shoot right back up to yours, kageyama doesn't shy away from anyone but damn why did you have to look at him like that with those stupid fucking eyes of yours..

You offered him a genuine warm smile, your eyes creasing a bit as your smile met them a small chuckle leaving you as you watch him fail to keep eye contact with you. He had a silly little pout on his face as his brows furrowed and his cheeks warmed.

You sigh at your silly boy and pull him into a hug, it was mostly you hugging him. Wrapping your arms around his body as he stiffly stood in your grasp, you give him a long squeeze and groan slightly. You pull away and grab his face pulling his down, with his face in your hands he takes a moment to really feel your hands the softness of them on his cheeks and how he could smell perfume on your wrists.

You give him a couple of kisses on his face causing him to squeeze his eyes shut and groan lightly. He slowly fluttered his eyes open to leer down at you. He's so tall even when you pull him down to level with you.

“ I love you, tobio..”

You whisper to him, clearly not quiet enough because you can hear people snickering behind you. You kiss his nose one final time, you can see the way he's mentally cursing you with his mind. He hates that you had to do this in front of them. He loves you, he swears he does. He may have a funny way of showing it but he genuinely loves you.

“ ...mmn... love...you too..”

Tobio made damn sure he said it quiet enough. He refused to let them hear him say that.

Trust after being with you for a long time he gets out of that. He doesn't care who hears him say he loves you. He's so happy that he's had you for this long.

[asterafroditis]

Hi, could I request Silver with a platonic know-it-all reader? Like they're blunt and always getting on everybody's nerves by flexing their knowledge on others and nobody really knows why Silver puts up with them, but he's always like "wow, that was really informative :)" whenever they talk and they genuinely enjoy his company. Sorry if this is an odd request!

𐔌 . ⋮ quiet understanding .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ��

☓┆Platonic Silver x yapper gn! reader

𓏵 910 words

ᝰ.ᐟ 3rd Person POV, they/them pronouns used, fluff

teehee, I definitely had fun writing this, hope it caters to your request! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

If there was one thing people knew about you, it was that you knew things. A lot of things. About history, science, magic theory, ancient spell formations—sometimes even completely random trivia that had no relevance to anyone's life. And you made sure people knew that you knew.

"Actually, that's incorrect," you’d interject, arms crossed as you interrupted yet another conversation in the Diasomnia common room. "The proper incantation for that spell dates back to the late Sorcerer's Era, not the early one. If you used that variation, you'd end up setting your own robes on fire."

Sebek groaned loudly, turning on his heel with a scowl. "No one asked for your input!"

"Yeah, but you'd have burned your eyebrows off. You're welcome."

Lilia only chuckled, amused as always, but the rest of the students? Not so much. You had a habit of inserting your knowledge into every discussion, and it wasn’t exactly winning you many friends. Some people saw you as insufferable, others as a walking encyclopedia that never knew when to shut up.

But if there was one person who never seemed annoyed by you, it was Silver.

"That was really informative," he said as he blinked at you, entirely sincere. "I didn’t know that spell variation had such a history."

You smirked, satisfied. "Of course. Most people just assume the modern version is correct, but they don’t consider how—"

"Are you seriously encouraging them, Silver?!" Sebek cut in, looking completely exasperated. "They never stop talking as it is!"

Silver only tilted his head, clearly not understanding why that was an issue. "I think it's nice. They know a lot of useful things."

"Exactly," you agreed smugly, nudging Silver's arm. "At least someone appreciates my genius."

Sebek let out a long-suffering groan and stomped away while you turned back to Silver, pleased as ever.

And that was how it always went. While most people avoided you when you got too deep into an explanation, Silver never brushed you off. He never mocked you, never got irritated—he just listened, nodding along even when your tangents stretched far longer than necessary. He even asked follow-up questions sometimes, which was practically an invitation for you to keep going.

You liked that about him.

One day, as you sat under a tree with Silver during a break, you glanced at him curiously. "You never get tired of me talking your ear off, do you?"

Silver looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head. "No. You always have something interesting to say. And I like learning new things."

You blinked. "...Huh."

That was… unexpected. But nice.

A breeze rustled through the trees, and you hesitated before adding, "Most people think I’m just annoying."

Silver closed his eyes, considering your words. Then, with the same calm sincerity he always carried, he said, "They're missing out, then."

You scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes. "Well, obviously." You leaned back against the tree, folding your arms. "I mean, I know things no one else does. If people don’t want to listen, that's their loss."

Silver hummed in agreement, then after a pause, added, "Still, I think it's nice to have someone who enjoys talking. I spend a lot of time in silence."

You thought about that for a moment. Most people probably assumed he was just a quiet guy, but considering how often he drifted off to sleep, maybe he was just too tired to talk much. If that was the case… maybe he liked having someone around who could carry the conversation.

A moment of silence passed between you before Silver spoke again. "You mentioned something about knight traditions earlier," he said, tilting his head slightly. "Can you tell me more about that?"

Your eyes lit up. "Oh, absolutely! Did you know that in ancient knightly orders, squires would have to recite the entire code of chivalry before they could even touch a sword? It wasn’t just about combat—they had to memorize historical texts, strategy guides, even poetry."

Silver’s lips quirked upward slightly. "I see. I think my father would have liked that tradition."

You paused, momentarily caught off guard. "Huh. Yeah, I guess he would’ve. You probably would’ve excelled at it, too."

Silver blinked at you, mildly surprised. "You think so?"

"Of course," you scoffed. "You're basically already a knight. Just missing the fancy title and dramatic cape."

He chuckled softly. "That’s… nice to hear."

You huffed, nudging his shoulder. "Well, don’t get too cocky about it. I still know more history than you."

Silver smiled faintly. "I don’t mind. That just means I can learn more from you."

For once, you found yourself at a loss for words.

It was easy to brush off other people’s irritation toward you, easy to act like you didn’t care whether they appreciated your knowledge or not. But Silver—he listened. He valued what you had to say. And in a world where people were constantly rolling their eyes or sighing in exasperation at you, that meant more than you wanted to admit.

So, with a quiet hum, you settled in beside him, watching the leaves rustle overhead.

"Alright," you said eventually, voice softer than usual. "I’ll tell you about the old knight tournaments next. You’ll like this one."

Silver nodded, his expression relaxed and content. "I’m listening."

And for once, you felt like someone truly was.

[daylighted]

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤJOURNAL ! READER.

meet lore . . . again, because she's not someone that you should be unfamiliar with, if you know the winchester boys ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ a lonely baby leads to an extravagant adventure involving a witch and a family journal ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ knowledgeable and kind, outgoing and adoring, lore is happy to help the winchester brothers on their hunts, while also being the best friend to a car-turned-girl ㅤ — ㅤ so long as she gets to know her favorite winchester in the process, sam.

PUT IT IN MANUAL !! it is hard for dean to ever say no to baby, as much as he likes to pretend in his tough exterior and firm stances that he can. this is the beginning point in lore's story, the "once upon a time" in her pages. baby wanted something, baby got it; and baby wanted a friend who didn't smell like old spice & use two-in-one shampoo . . . other than sam. taking it upon herself & making dean do the driving, the two end up in a witch's humble home to cast the same spell that made baby into a human — on john winchester's old journal.

THE WORLD SLIPS AWAY !! lore is a bank of knowledge when she comes to life. she is made up of every thought and scribble and scrawl. whereas baby is learning the ropes of humanity, a lot of john's ideologies & thoughts are embedded into lore's psyche. because of this, there are few things that need to be taught to her about the world & all of its dark and sinister secrets. the downside? a lot of her thoughts and knowledge comes from john winchester's research, including bias & theories that centered from him.

DROWNED IN PERMANENT INK !! like baby arrived in only a leather jacket, lore arrives in a faded, worn brown jumper, similar to the one sam's iconic bomber jacket that he often sported around in the beginnings of the reunited brothers' hunting journey. though, beneath the sleeves of hers is something more surprising than the fact a journal became a woman. her skin was littered in dark ink; rough sketches john did in his research of creatures and monsters and everything in between, alongside some off-handed doodles in the blank spaces. it is not known if the ink extends beyond her arms & over the rest of her body, but it is a theory that dean encourages sam to find out.

AN ANGEL WITHOUT HER WINGS !! if baby was lovingly deemed the hellion of the growing collection of insentient objects becoming mortal, lore was the angel on the winchesters' other shoulder. she is quick to want to help them, offering any information that she has in any instance she can. sometimes, it is endearing how desperate she is for their approval and validation. other times, her diluted knowledge on things ends up sending them down wrong paths or simply being more of an irritation than help — but at the very least, it is known that she only means well.

FRAGILE HEARTS !! the last thing sam winchester wanted was another baby trailing the brothers & their journeys around the country. though lore proves to be less of a hassle and chaotic disaster than her car companion, it isn't easily that sam opens up to lore, even though baby had the idea to spring her to life for sam . . . and because she wanted a girl best friend. as closed off as sam is from her in the beginning, it's hard to fully shut out a girl who knows how to weave her way into his heart, even when it still feels so broken from the losses he carried.

GIRLS, GIRLS, GIRLS !! lore and baby are polar opposites in every way, but that does not stop the two from getting along as easily as anyone could. it turned out that, yes, sometimes baby was right, and a lot of her overwhelmed frustration could be solved in having someone next to her that was in the same boat. even though that meant the winchesters now had two object-turned-girls to watch over, it was much easier when lore seemed to domesticate baby's impulses, and baby was overjoyed to show off all of the fun exclusive features that came with being human.

—ㅤㅤㅤREAD HER TALE !! ㅤ ๋࣭ ㅤ ⭑ ㅤ ⋆ ㅤ ⭒ ㅤ ˚ ㅤ ｡ ㅤ ⋆

. . . or, the chronological timeline of journal!reader. full map, including anecdotes, to be written soon! ㅤ — ㅤdiscuss journal!reader nation here !! official join the roadtrip post coming soon.

journal!reader, interactive version, only found on c.ai. soon!

01. TBD.

—ㅤㅤㅤANECDOTES !! ㅤ ๋࣭ ㅤ ⭑ ㅤ ⋆ ㅤ ⭒ ㅤ ˚ ㅤ ｡ ㅤ ⋆

. . . or, the pinnacles of thoughts and headcanons about journal!reader. join the discussion in the link above !!

ㅤㅤㅤ✎ᝰ TBD.

notes. i wanted to introduce u guys to my beloved lore asap even though i have nothing written for her ( clearly ) because she's been living in my head !!! just like baby!reader !!! i hope u all agree it is very baby-like to get lonely and manipulate dean by being pretty to go and take her to another witch to make another girl. this is honestly his & sam's fault for telling her how she was made !!! can't blame baby ever !!!

biggest shoutout ever to @jollyhunter for bringing up this concept & for helping shape it !!! what an angel girl we have brought to baby!nation <3 !! and of course once again layout inspired by my pookie twin @deansbeer <3 !!!

tags. @titsout4jackles @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @theosaurous @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @aileenunfiltered @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @misatxox @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @couturewinx @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra + all of the rest of baby!reader nation hehehe

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

Gojo Satoru x older reader (7 age gap) headcanons

Synopsis - as a.normal adult that lived a stressful life , who thought she'll get a reason to live, pushing all the stress aside.

Warnings ⚠️ - f!reader , older reader. Reader is 28 and he is 21! A university student.

© not canon this is just a work of fiction, fuck off if you are pissed.

♡ Younger gojo - You first meet Satoru at a café near his university, where you often stop by after work. He’s loud, effortlessly charming, and annoyingly persistent when he notices you.

♡ Younger gojo - He overhears your conversation with a friend about work stress and, in typical Gojo fashion, inserts himself into the conversation with a teasing remark.

♡ Younger gojo- He starts showing up at the café more often, making playful comments about how it must be fate that you always run into each other.

♡ Younger gojo - He shamelessly flirts with you, dropping cheesy pick-up lines like, "So, how does it feel to be my ideal type?" or "You're a whole seven years older? Damn, you’re basically my cool, sexy senpai."

♡ Younger gojo - He teases you about your ‘serious adult job,’ acting mock-impressed whenever you talk about work responsibilities.

♡ Younger gojo-Despite his playful nature, you notice he actually listens when you vent about work. He remembers little details,your annoying coworker’s name, your favorite way to destress,and brings them up later in thoughtful ways.

♡ Younger gojo -You hesitate at first because of the age gap. Seven years may not be huge, but you still see him as a reckless, flirtatious university student.

♡ Younger gojo You remind him, "Aren't you too young for me?" only for him to smirk and reply, "Nah, you're just too perfect for me to ignore."

♡ Younger gojo - He works hard to prove he’s not just some immature kid. He’s persistent, but not in an overwhelming way he gives you space while making it clear he’s serious.

♡ Younger gojo - He loves calling you "Ms. [Last Name]" just to see your reaction. You roll your eyes, but he sees the small smirk you try to hide.

♡ Younger gojo-He lives to fluster you, whispering teasing things in public just to see you struggle to keep your composure.

♡ Younger gojo-He insists on paying for dates even though you earn more than him. If you tease him about it, he pouts dramatically: "Let me be a gentleman, okay?"

♡ Younger gojo-He loves stealing your work shirts or sweaters, claiming they ‘smell like you.’ It’s his comfort when he’s drowning in university assignments.

♡ Younger gojo-You’re more level-headed, but he has a way of making life exciting. He drags you out of your routine, making you loosen up and have fun.

♡ Younger gojo-He’s surprisingly good at giving emotional support. If you ever feel overwhelmed by work, he makes you take breaks and does something stupid just to make you laugh.

♡ Younger gojo-But he’s still Gojoz,immature at times. He complains dramatically when you act too much like an ‘adult’ “Babe, stop being so responsible and come play with meee.”

♡ Younger gojo-You find yourself being the one reminding him to study, eat properly, and sleep on time. You joke about babysitting him, but deep down, you don’t really mind.

♡ Younger gojo - He casually talks about the future with you, dropping comments like "When I graduate, we should move somewhere nice."

♡ Younger gojo - You worry about how people might view your relationship, but he never lets it get to him. "Who cares what they think? I have the coolest girlfriend ever, i mean mommy-" you smacked him.

To the ones Asking me if gojo was my favourite NO he is not ☹️ my suguru bby is, why do I create so much fics about him then?

Alright so Cannonically I m similar to gojo YES I m , like seriously. When I first saw gojo , I was like , he is me , I m him. So it's like , i know myself better than anyone else, that's why I make gojo fics more often, some fics are based on real life incidents 🫦

[taeaura]

Thomas Hewitt | Possessiveness, Desperation, and Jealousy

Yeah...Thomas has attachment issues lololol

Thomas' possessiveness is really just a progression of his desperation. For example:

Stay with me, I don't want you to leave

Mutates into

You're my possession - Of that, my love, there really is no question

Okay, yeah, I'm using lyrics to get my point across, so what?

Because of his low self-esteem, Thomas gets jealous without realizing it. He's anxious about his potential future with his S/O, with constant worries surrounding abandonment and comparison.

What if you get hurt? What if you push too far, explore too deeply and find something you hate? What if turn to hate him? He can't have that. No, no, no, no, not here; Not now.

You really are his special someone. He's in love with you, his Momma'll make sure to tell you. Thomas' favorite thing is how sweet you are with him; Buttering him up with compliments {all of which you find to be true statements, though he disagrees}, and variations of physical affection. One thing that never fails:

"You're so handsome, Tommy."

Goddd, does it make him blush. He gets all giddy and shy - a bit aroused, depending on the situation.

What if that stops? What if when he finally reveals himself, you run away? You scream and shriek in terror? Is he really that ugly?

What if I make you feel sick?

That's a question he asks himself a lot. You're all he has {outside of the family}, and he plans to keep it that way {excluding potential future children}.

I explored this a bit in a previous post:

'You can't leave. I won't leave you leave - I have nothing. I'll prove to you how good I am - How good I can be, I swear. You can live with us on this farm, just like momma always dreamed of. You're not leaving me; Not after you've met momma, not after the countless times you've saved me from callous assholes out here. No - I couldn't..' -- He had to keep you. Keep you here; In the basement; In the barn; Maybe in a spare bedroom - His bedroom. It didn't matter. You could would not leave.

_____

At the root of his issues, Thomas is a scared, concerned, insecure man who's been starved of proper connection. Healthy, reciprocated emotions that don't burn out when he does something wrong. Once he's found someone worth opening up to, he'll treasured them. After years of believing they'd never meet, here they are.

Are you an angel? Have I been rewarded?

Or has the Devil sending one of his succubi to ravish me down to the rings of Wrath and Ptolemaea?

Although Thomas' thoughts are not as religiously-driven as those above, he often treads in waters of similar questioning:

Do I deserve this? - Am I being tricked? - They'll leave eventually..

--

Overtime, his anxiety turns to desperation - And soon, that desperation turns into jealousy.

Someone could compliment you, and it'd set him off. Especially if it's a man. He's so scared you'll find someone better than him, and he's envious of how easy it is not only for you to interact with people, but how easy it is for them to interact with you. He wants to interact with you so badly! He wants to tell you how beautiful you are, how grateful he is for you {even if you two aren't in a relationship yet}. He wishes he was approachable - Not that he's comfortable with causal conversation, but he wishes it was plausible in his situation.

--

One afternoon, a {soon to be} victim complimented you; 'Called you 'attractive' in whatever fancy way they put it. You scoffed a bit, albeit amused, followed by a small 'thank you.' - Boy, Thomas couldn't've been more peeved. How dare you? After all he's done to make you comfortable? Really, this is how you repay him?

He had to take a minute to himself, realizing how irrational he sounded. How were you supposed to know the sacrifices he made? It's not like he could tell you..though he wishes he could, just so you would be proud of him.

After his anger calmed down, he was left guilty and worrisome - It wasn't anyone's fault. The stranger couldn't have known his feelings for you, and he doubted you're aware either. That being said, that 'charming' victim made a delicious dinner that night ;)

_____

Thomas thought he had his emotions under control, but he was greatly mistaken. Momma had sent you out to grab things from the {wilting} garden just a few minutes prior; You'd gained enough trust from her to be left unsupervised outside - Though, she kept tabs on you though the windows.

Thomas was just finishing up in the basement when he walked up to the main floor; Oddly enough, he was looking for you. One random evening {a day he couldn't quite remember}, he'd overheard you talking to Henrietta about a locket you had once - A dainty one that complimented your skin ethereally. One of the victims, a nice gal from out of town, had a locket similar to the one you described; And he planned on giving it to you.

As he searched around the home, he found no trace of you. His anxiety quickly picked up; What if you'd left? No, Momma wouldn't lose you that easily, you'd have to be somewhere. He made his way outside, carelessly throwing the front screen doors open, albeit a bit aggressive. After a few minutes of pacing, he finally found you in the garden - Just as you were supposed to be.

The knot in his stomach relaxed, just as his shoulders did. There you were: Safe and content. He clutched the locket within his right hand, the chain dangling from his stressed fingers.

Unbeknownst to you, Thomas stood a few feet away, just..staring. His mind raced with incoherent thoughts: Would you like the gift? What if you were confused, or even worse, disgusted? What if the locket wasn't to your liking? He was quickly pulled from his thoughts when you finally noticed him.

"Hi, Thomas." You acknowledged, he really was just some big, awkward hunk, huh? "Did you need something?"

He quickly shook his head, bringing his hand forward. He twisted his wrist so his palm could face upward, revealing the locket.

You wiped some sweat off your forehead with your dirt-covered gloves and stood up. Your knees had gotten a bit dirty, but your pants provided a solid-enough layer between skin and soil.

"Is this for me?" You naively asked. Of course it was for you, he wouldn't just hand something to you that he intended on keeping.

He nodded, slightly nudging his hand closer as if to say 'take it.' - Which you did.

"Might be a bit difficult to put on, the jump ring's a bit small."

Were you..asking him to help? Was that it? He wasn't too sure, but he took the chance anyway. He gently grasped the split chain, folding it cautiously around your neck. He fumbled a lot with the chains..he didn't know how to handle such a small mechanism despite his sewing hobby; But eventually, he connected the jump rings.

You adjusted the locket to your liking, turning to face him with a thankful smile painted amongst your face.

"Thank you, Tommy."

Oh god..there it was. You knew he liked being called 'Tommy', you must've. He felt teased, just a bit. Mostly shy, though. He swallowed and gave a small nod.

Gosh, you were gorgeous, at least he thought so. He wanted so badly to tell you - Just like that piece of shit victim previously had. Okay..they weren't that bad, but he didn't want to acknowledge that. His jealously started to fester again, soon overriding his yearning.

God fucking damnit, why do I have to be so restricted? He thought to himself, an anger bubbling beneath him.

"Are you alright?" You hesitantly asked, tilting your head just a bit.

Was he alright? No, he was not 'alright.' He felt silenced. Restricted in his own body. How hard could it be to tell you how much he liked that locket on you?

His throat strained, trying to make any sensible noise - Yet all that came out were gurgles and incoherent mumbles. He shook his head, obviously overwhelmed and fed up. Instead of straining too hard, he pointed at the necklace and nodded - He really did think you were the most beautiful creature in the word, the locket only amplified that.

"You like it?"

He nodded once more.

"Aw; Well, thank you, Tommy. That's very kind of you."

He nodded a final time, making a mental decision: You were never going to leave him. He'd do anything and everything to make you happy, including small things like this.

That piece of shit nobody couldn't treat you like I could; They'd only make you happy chopped up, seared, and served right at the dinner table.

He'd make sure that would never happen to you. That no one besides him or the family would make you laugh, cry, smile; Not like he could. You two would be one, one way or another - Even in death. He'd make sure of that.

_____

Boo lame boo 🍅🍅🍅

I'm not too proud of the one-shot but my brain isn't giving me anything different.

We will, however, get more possessive Tommy as I finished up pt. 2 of Proprietorial 😈

[c4tluver02]

the perfect gift <3

warnings: none!

wc: 1.6k

Summary: You love books and Steve just happens to get you the best gift of all time!

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。☆。*。☆。

One of the things Steve loves about you is your love for reading. Whenever he calls and asks what you were doing it's always reading. His favorite is when you read aloud to him. Your soft voice saying the words always calms him down. Steve himself wasn't much of a reader at all before he met you but somehow someway you got him into it. If you read a great book you would immediately recommend it to Steve. In a way you read every book in hopes of giving it to Steve for him to read. The thought of you two having your own little book club made you so happy, so of course Steve had the perfect idea of getting you a book. A book that was not only read by him before you got to it but annotated. All of his thoughts that he would share to you once you had both read the book would now be on a page. 

His plan started when you called him.

 “Hi sweet girl, what's up?” Steve asks happy to hear your voice

“Hi Stevie, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the bookstore with me?” Despite you asking him to go with, what you really meant is if he could drive you both there. But that was neither here nor there.

“Yeah no problem, I’ll get ready and head over?” He asked.

“Yes, perfect!” You respond with a cheerful tone that immediately makes Steve grin from ear to ear. Anything to make his girl happy!

- 

Once Steve gets to your house he knocks on your door. He steps back a bit and as he does you open the door. You step forward to give him a hug. 

“Are you ready?” Steve asks as you're still in his arms.

“Yep, let me just get my bag really quick.” You reply, giving him a quick peck on the lips. It's enough that Steve got a taste of your fruity lip gloss. 

“So what type of book are you looking for?” Steve asks as he opens the car door for you. 

“Hmm I am not exactly sure I am thinking of a thriller? I honestly have no clue, really anything that looks good.” Steve wishes you could give him a list of books that way he knows he's at least picking one you'll like. But you don't, so Steves on his own and hopefully he can pull this off without you figuring him out. 

You two make it to the bookstore and head inside. Of course you know all the aisles by heart and immediately go to the fiction aisle. Steve is like a lost puppy following behind you just looking around. He feels like it's pretty easy to tell he isn't a frequent customer. He doesn't know all the areas like you do and by the way he grabs onto your belt buckle anyone could tell he hates to be away from you. But Steve bravely decides to go to a spot that had a book you had said you wanted last time you two were there. He not only has to get it without you noticing but he has to buy it without you seeing him. 

“Hey, I think I left my wallet in the car. I am gonna go get it really quick okay?” Steve says playing a normal facade. 

“Mhm ok.” You say completely not listening as you are already on the fourth page of a book you picked up. 

Now is Steve's chance to go quickly, find the book, pay for it and run it to his car. When he reaches the aisle he finds the book and lucky for him it's the last one. He peeks his head up trying to look over the bookshelves to see you still engrossed in the book you had when he left you. Steve pays for the book and runs to his car. How he did all of that without you looking around is a miracle he thinks. 

Steve walks back up to the area you were in the last time he saw you, you weren't there. Steve is officially freaking out now. He must have not been as slick as he thought. Did you see him buy the book? Did you see that he waited in line to pay for it? He wasn't gone for too long was he? A million thoughts passed through his mind as he walked down to look for you in the aisles. He stops in his tracks as you are walking up to the place he just was to buy your book. 

“Steve, someone took the last of the book I was looking at last time.” You pout into his chest. Steve rubs your back relieved his plan had somehow worked out. 

“I'm sorry baby. We can always come back another day when they restock it?” He says trying to give you a positive look on it despite the last copy being in his back seat. 

“Yeah you're right. It's okay I found two books so I guess I'll live!” You say as you lock your hand with his and walk up to the front. 

Steve pays for your books even though you told him he didn't need to. But he will never stop treating you. What type of boyfriend would he be if he did that? 

-

Steve drives you two back to your place and how can he say no when you ask him to stay for dinner? You guys cook a nice home cooked meal and Steve's cheeks hurt from how much he's been smiling. Even something as simple as cooking dinner with you makes him unbelievably happy. He can't wait till the day you guys do this every night. You both make a perfect pair in every shape and form. The happiness that surrounds the kitchen as you cook is something that comes so naturally yet so enjoyed. Steve couldn't ask for anyone better than you. His perfect girl. Once dinner is done Steve decides it's time he goes home and start on your book. 

He doesn't think he's ever read a book this quickly in his life but he can't stop from the excitement he feels of giving this to you. He writes and highlights important things and little thoughts he has here and there. It's funny how much he sees himself turning unto you. The endless calls of you telling him you stayed up so late reading your eyes were burning always sounded crazy to him. Yet somehow here he is sharing the same feeling. Although this book is for you he is enjoying it very much. He's glad he can read something before you versus the other way around. To have something worth sharing is everything Steve wants and more. 

It only takes him a week to finish the book and annotate. Steve truly hopes you like it. He’s never done something like this and you've never voiced that you even like his comments on books. But despite the little voice in his head he is overjoyed to give you this. 

Steve knocks on your door as he waits with the book in his hand. “Steve? What are you doing here?” You ask unknowing that he would be coming over. 

Steve opens his mouth to respond but before he even has a chance to say it you say-

“You found the book I wanted!” Steve is already glowing from happiness at your reaction as you jump in pure excitement. You can't believe he went out of his way to get it for you. 

“Yeah, I uh, made a few edits to it though.” Steve says sheepishly, scratching at his neck. A little bit of anxiety is finally creeping up to him as he gives you the book. 

You look up at him in surprise as you take his hand and drag him into the living room. You feel like you could cry. The act of him buying a book you mentioned you wanted more than a week ago was enough to get you emotional. But the fact that he did something to it was even more heart wrenching. You open the cover to see a note from him. As you flip through a few more of the pages you see his handwriting scattered on the pages. Tears welled up in your eyes at the sight. You can't believe how compassionate and thoughtful he is. 

“Oh Steve.” You say barely getting a word out, too full of emotions.

“If you don't like it we can go get you a new book. I dunno I thought it would be cool but maybe it’s-” You stop him mid sentence with a big hug.

“It's the best gift I've ever gotten.” You say as you give him a kiss. Your hands are holding his jaw and all the fear leaves Steve. He is so happy that you're happy and enjoy your gift. 

“Good. I’m glad you like it.” He says smiling.

“Oh I don't like it, I love it. I can't believe you would do something like this for me. I know this took some time.” You say holding his hands. 

“I bought it last week. I was the one who took the last copy.” Steve's smile turns into a giggle as he sees your face drop. 

“Oh my god! You sneak! You didn't go to find your wallet at all did you?” You say giggling as all the pieces click together. 

“Nope! I bought the book and ran to put it in my car. I think it was the most stressed I've ever been.” Steve responds in a playful tone. His hand clutched against his chest in dramatics. 

“I was so deep in the book I didn't even realize.” You gasp as you finally see his whole plan come to life. 

You give him a big hug. Extremely thankful you have him as your boyfriend. “Thank you so much baby.” You say hugging him even tighter.

Steve picks you up a bit just enough to allow you to put your legs outside of his. When you let go you pepper his face in a million little kisses. Within each kiss an ‘i love you’ comes out.

"Anything for you." Steve says before kissing you back.

[rollofthed1ce]

y/n cookie is kidnap by cookie kidnappers and they want to get y/n cookie money or they crumble y/n cookie

What will be the ancient cookies reaction (i’m pretty sure rage, mad, and committing murder)

Pure Vanilla:

Immediately goes into panic mode, unable to find you in your hiding spots in his room.

When he finds out that cookies have taken you for ransom. 

He didn’t take it well.

we will go into a murderous rampage, causing absolutely chaos as he attempts to find you.

When he does find where you are held at, he  will “politely” as the cookies to leave so he can crumble them later

After that, except lots of cuddles and kisses when you get back to his castle. 

He will also make a massive sort of nest made of pillows and blankets in his library for the both of you. (Food and drinks are off to the side)

Hollyberry:

Now Hollyberry won’t immediately know you got kidnapped. Instead think you ran off.

But when she finds out, she skips the preparations and goes straight to hunting mode

But here is the thing: the outcome is different if she find you within haft an hour

If she does then she’ll charge straight into the poor souls that thought they’d get money

If she did… barbecue, anyone?

Either way, it ends the same. Stuck at her palace for a while and security increased. But overall, not that bad

At least it’s a welcomed prison home

Dark Cacao:

…oh boy, where to begin?

Well for starters, you royally screwed up when you even touching Y/N. But kidnapped? That’s a death sentence right there.

So after turning the Citadel from “spotless” to  “ok you had to be trying to get to this”, he does find out…

And He

Was

P   I   S   S   E   D 

Good luck to trying to stop a berserk Dark Cacao from getting those cookies absolutely mole-

After retrieving you, you two just stay cooped up in his room for a long while. Doesn’t matter how cooperative you are either him.

Golden Cheese + White Lily

Short answer:

P  R  A  Y , hope you will go to heaven

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Can I request Matt and Frank with a neurodivergent reader who rocks to self-soothe when they’re overstimulated/anxious

Hello darling! Absolutely you can. I’m sorry it took me so long to respond, it’s been a WEEK. Wayyyy too many thoughts below the cut.

Let me just say, I think both Matt and Frank would be fantastic partners to someone who is neurodivergent. They both understand the constant frustration and sense of injustice and all that.

Matt

It would take a few weeks for Matt to even realize what you were doing, I think. He can hear the movement, but it wouldn’t really seem off to him, given how much time he spends with Foggy–who never STOPS moving.

Because he doesn’t have much experience with people who are neurotypical and not stressed beyond belief, he’s sort of used to people fidgeting and doing what they can to calm themselves.

I don’t think he would bring it up without someone else prompting. Maybe Foggy or Karen says something offhandedly, catching you by surprise. You hadn’t even noticed you were doing it at the time, swaying your weight to your heels and back to the balls of your feet, your body rocking with the movement.

“Don’t worry, sport! We’re coming.” Foggy laughed, shoving his arms into the sleeves of his coat as the four of you prepared to grab lunch.

You froze, suddenly regaining your self-awareness and immediately choking on a wave of embarrassment.

“Ready to go?” Matt’s voice startled you out of your stupor, making you jump

“Uh yes. Sorry.” The apology was instinctive, habitual. A symptom of perpetually feeling like your innocuous stims were troublesome for others.

“Why are you sorry?” Head tilting in the signature way it always did when he was concerned, Matt’s hand came to rest on your arm as he scanned you for evidence of harm.

“Nothing. We should catch up.” You murmured, hurrying out of Matt’s office to follow his business partners out of the building.

He’d let you deflect, but he’d set the thought in a special corner of his mind, privately vowing to bring it up at a later time.

After Foggy and Karen had escaped the pile of paperwork in the conference room, hesitantly allowing you and Matt to sort through it without them, he’d leap on the opportunity.

“Out with it,” The command is tender but stern, very classic Matt.

“Out with what?” Playing dumb worked sometimes, easier than an outright lie in front of a breathing polygraph machine.

“You’ve been biting your tongue since before lunch.” Apparently your go-to strategy wasn’t going to work this time. “What happened? Did I say something?”

The fear simmering below his concern caught your attention immediately. You had to answer now. “No nothing like that, Matty. I just..got in my head.”

“About what?” His wandering gaze is so earnest, you cave immediately. You tell him everything. The way you always felt different from those around you. The confusion and constant frustration when you inevitably misunderstood people. The pile of issues you had with various sounds and textures. The need to rock back and forth in place when you were nervous or overwhelmed, and the shame that forced you to stop when someone laughed or criticized you.

As always, Matt listens. Asks a question here or there, to help himself understand, but he seems to get it. There’s no judgement in his eyes, only total acceptance and a blaze of protective fury.

Once he knows about the stim, he would fiercely defend you in public. Scold people for staring and encourage you to do whatever you needed to do to feel comfortable.

Frank on the other hand would notice it VERY quickly.

This man is capital O Observant so he spots the rocking before you’re even together.

He has weird fidgety things he does too so he’s not judging whatsoever. He’s not interested in dissecting the root cause if it’s not hurting you or anyone else. So he jots it down in his mental notes about you and moves on past.

I think he’d also pick up on the soothing nature of it, notice that you seem calmer when you allow yourself to stim. So when he catches you in a bad mood or in a stressful moment, he’d pull you flush against his chest, one hand cradling your back while the other cups your head, and he’d rock the two of you together. (If you need to rock alone, he’d absolutely let you. But this personally would be nice for me so I’m including it lol)

If anyone ever commented on it, they’d find themselves on the other side of a MURDEROUS stare, urging them to quickly apologize and move on with their day

[elene78-blog]

TGR SPOILERS and THEORY ABOUT KEVIN AND JEAN

Am I the only one who found the contrast between TSC's "nice" Kevin and TGR's "rude" and slightly douchebag Kevin weird?

 Yes, Kevin had his moments of kindness, but he went from asking Jean to breathe, with his head in his hands, to roughly slamming him against the wall to calm him down before the interview in a threatening tone. He went from holding Jean's hand gently while he was in bed to "I know you hate me sometimes. I don't care."

 Okay, yeah, Kevin sends Jean a new postcard and all, and they have a very revealing conversation, but the contrast kept me pretty mad at him overall. Furthermore, in the interview Kevin was also quite rude compared to how he usually appears. Honestly, I saw Kevin as a real asshole compared to TSC. I found this change very strange. And I just thought about something about that, something that has already been exemplified in the original trilogy, and my theory is that...

 Kevin has always been this jerk (I call him that affectionately, you know what I mean) even on TSC, but Jean was describing him with the eyes of a person who idealizes another. This makes a ton of sense because Kevin was all the kindness Jean knew. Just Kevin and his tough love. The only person he's ever been "in love" with... until now.

That's why in TSC Kevin is so soft, because we see him through the eyes of a Jean who only knew that "kindness", of a Jean who continued to idealize him even though he also hated Kevin. A Jean who says "he has earned the right to be arrogant" without hesitation because Kevin continued to be his reference in terms of conflicting feelings.

 But this is no longer the case, is it?

 Now Jean knows what kindness is outside of The Nest. Now Jean has started to develop feelings for someone else, and no one has treated him like Kevin has, with that harshness at USC. Jeremy, his partner, has never treated him like that either. That's why TGR's Kevin is tougher in contrast to TSC and much less kind, because Jean is starting to stop idealizing Kevin now that he knows the genuine kindness of people who haven't been to The Nest. He sees the difference between Kevin and his current friends, and starts to go crazy because... Has Kevin always been like this, or did Jean see him that way because he didn't know anything else? 

In other words... Jean is "falling out of love."

Let's look at this a little more closely from when Kevin arrives to when he leaves: 

1. - Kevin arrives and helps Jean get dressed. Jeremy sees how Jean lets herself go and his eyes even shine a little. Some people say this shows that Jean is still in love with Kevin. I think it shows Jean's idealization of him, and a reflection of his own history (I think Jean stopped being in love with Kevin a long time ago, but Kevin was one of the few good things Jean had in The Nest, so he holds onto those few good memories tightly). 

2. - Kevin starts drinking and Jean loses his temper. Try to attack him. Kevin shakes him roughly and Jean relents. Why does Jean attack? Because the Kevin he knows, his idealized image, doesn't drink or have problems. He outgrew The Nest. He's better than that. Here Jean's image of Kevin begins to fall and that makes Jean not understand anything and gets angry. Kevin has to be perfect because KEVIN CAME OUT OF THERE. But Kevin doesn't seem like it and Jean starts to get more and more nervous about it. 

3. - Jean's nervousness increases during the interview. We see Kevin being quite blunt with the interviewer and, although Kevin is protective of Jean, Jean's descriptions of Kevin's actions are quite distant. Maybe because of nervousness, who knows? But when Jean comes up to breathe, Jean says something revealing.

Jean doesn't care who accompanies him outside. He doesn't care if it's Kevin or anyone else. Jean is clear that Kevin can't do anything at this point. Kevin has failed in this interview and in his task, which was to make everything go well. 

4.- They return home with the taste of failure. Jean and Kevin talk. Kevin reveals that he needs the help of alcohol because therapy isn't always a help. He reveals that he still hears Riko in his head continuously. To put it another way, Kevin shows weakness to Jean and Jean is shocked.

 "You should be better."

 The idealization of Kevin practically disappears with this phrase, and what happens next demonstrates it.

 5.- Cat hugs Jean, almost crying for the loss of Elodie. Jean sees here Cat's kindness versus the kindness that Kevin has barely been able to give him because Kevin doesn't know what kindness is either. This scene is very powerful because this is where Jean's change begins. This is where I think Jean begins to recognize his people. Kevin can't do more because Kevin is Jean's equal, not someone superior like Jean has always believed. If Kevin is just like Jean... That means Kevin is also "weak."

The idealization ends. Now everything depends on Jean. And from here on, the protective Jean appears because Jean understands that, if the immovable point that was Kevin is not such a thing and everything has been a lie that has been created in his own mind, only he himself can protect and help his people. 

The Nest's psyche begins to crumble because number two, second only to Riko, is just like Jean. This psyche begins to crumble because true kindness is that of "his people", not that of The Nest. If Kevin is not immovable, anything can happen. 

6.- And then Jean hits Bryson to protect Jeremy and his own home. 

Does it make sense?

[georgiapeach30513]

With Your Touch, Part 9

Summary: Lloyd has a decision

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, D/s dynamics, restraints, unprotected sex, creampie, teasing, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.2K

Previous

Series Masterlist

“Lyla Bee,” you smile at the sweetest little baby you’ve ever seen. Her head turns to look at you. Her mostly gummy smile with two bottom teeth cheeses up at you. Lyla’s cheeks squish up so high that her eyes are squished as she giggles.

You give her smooshing kisses onto her cheeks over and over again, “Tell daddy good morning.”

“Lalalalalalala,” she repeats over and over again before cracking herself up in laughter. Looking back up before turning back towards you.

“No, tell daddy good morning.”

“Mamamamamamamamama,” more repetitive syllables, but not what you want her to say.

“You gotta tell daddy good morning.”

“Da!” She squeaks, smiling at you before looking back up. “Da! Da! Da! Da!”

“That’s my girl! You said it!” You can’t stop kissing over her squishy little cheeks, ready to cry at her being able to screech Da! Turning back towards the front you smile at your phone, “Good morning, daddy. Me and this sweet Lyla Bee had a late morning, huh?” Lyla jabbers along with you, telling her side of the story. Smart angel baby.

“But today we’re going to plan her first birthday, and I’m not taking no for an answer. I don’t care if it’s just us two and the baby girl, we’re having her a beautiful birthday. You could always invite Ari,” you know when he gets a chance to watch this video he’s going to be cocking up an eyebrow. He both loved and hated when you brought up his partner in crime.

“Tell daddy bye. We’ve got to make some breakfast for this bumble bee. Ooh! Note, maybe we should do a bumble bee theme for her birthday. Ooh, since daddy thinks you’re the queen bee, maybe that should be your theme,” Lloyd chuckles as he watches the video. You had said bye, and now are off on a tangent talking about her birthday that she wasn’t allowed to have because he didn’t want her to get older.

It had nothing to do with not allowing people to celebrate his daughter, and everything to do with keeping her this little and cute. And you look positively delectable being a mom. The things he wants to do with you once Lyla goes to bed is animalistic. He has claimed you in every way that he can think of. And your obedient self trusts him to not hurt you. Both physically and mentally. That thought fills him with so much pride and need for you.

He’s unaware if you know exactly how much power you hold over him, nor does he care. He doesn’t think you have it in you to be a manipulator. You hold the power, but you also guard it. Are protective in your way for Lyla and him. He’s never had someone be protective of him, and it makes him feel — things. Things he can’t fully comprehend.

“Are you watching that again?” Lloyd locks his phone, and glares up at Ari. His giant friend just smirks as he looks at him. “Oh, you’re acting like seeing that fine piece of ass with your daughter doesn’t turn you on?”

“She is a fine piece of ass, but she’s more. That’s not why I’m…”

“Yeah, you’re in love with her. You don’t have to tell me. It’s quite obvious, and I won’t say anything to anyone else. Your secret of being in love is safe with me,” Ari is aware that it’s not a prideful thing, it’s a protection thing for you and Lyla. The less people knew, the less you became a target, “What’s this I hear about sharing her with me.”

“I didn’t say that,” Lloyd glares at him. “It was a heat of the moment pillow talk.”

“Talking about my dick to your girl seems a bit weird, no? How is my dick making it into your pillow talk?”

“We are talking about our daughter’s first birthday. Not what I say to make her squirm,” Ari starts to open his mouth, and Lloyd makes a buzzing sound, holding up one finger. “Eh! If you can’t contribute to the plans of Lyla’s party, I want you to keep your flopping jaw closed.”

Ari chuckles, shaking his head. The teasing is definitely over. Lloyd can be funny when he gets flustered and pissy, but when it comes to you and Lyla, he’s insufferable. “So what are you going to do with Roman?”

“I want him to see just how in love, respected, and safe his daughter is,” Ari’s interest piques as he lifts his brows, and leans closer. “He thinks I am only using his daughter for sex, and while the sex is impeccable, there is more to us than that. And one day that beautiful woman is going to walk around with me, and I’m holding Lyla, and the other hand is on her swollen stomach. Roman will see the two of us in love, and realize that his daughter is worth more than he ever could have imagined, and that’s when I will destroy him. I will make him regret the day that he ever thought he or any man could make her feel inferior.”

Your submission should always be a choice, and not a demand of fear of retaliation. Roman was a bastard that treated you as a commodity. The Verb was a prick for thinking he could lay his hands on you. It didn’t bother him in the slightest that you hadn’t thought of a viable way to dispose of him. Maybe it’d do The Verb some good to see you growing with Lloyd’s seed. Give you something that he never would have been man enough to do.

Maybe seeing you happy could do him some good. Lloyd takes a deep breath as he leans back, “I’ve got the perfect idea.”

“Are you going to show The Verb a sex tape of you and your gorgeous Dolly?”

“Why are you calling her gorgeous?” Lloyd’s eyes narrow as he leans in closer to his friend. “She is.”

“I noticed,” Ari’s grin turns devilish as he leans back in his chair. “Just ravishing.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh, no. I saw you, heard you. Those teasing words. Are you looking for a third so early in your relationship?” Ari’s chuckle rumbles out of his chest as Lloyd rolls his eyes, and turns in his chair. “I mean, if you need help showing her how to get stuffed.”

“I don’t.”

“Then don’t offer what you won’t deliver,” the two men sit in silence for too long as Lloyd stares at nothing at all, and Ari just smiles at his friend. His irritation quickly turns into visions of Ari just watching your wrecked face. You are too much of a good girl to ever let him touch you, weren’t you? But making him watch you, Lloyd might be able to get on board with that.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” Ari asks, interrupting Lloyd’s thoughts.

“What?”

Ari nonchalantly shrugs. It is long past having this conversation with Lloyd. He couldn’t keep you and his daughter, and live this life. Lloyd has more money than he could ever want. Investing smart. Everyone knows the high life he enjoys having, he needs that security. “In five years, where are you in life?”

His eyes go blank. Visions of you, Lyla, another toddler girl, and a swollen belly dance in his mind. He’s with you every day. Away from the city, away from the killing and uncertainty. Just his family.

“Yeah,” Ari interrupts Lloyd’s train of thought, and he gets a pouting glare. “Just as I suspected. You realize the risk you give both of them by continuing this life.”

“This is what I know. And I didn’t ask for them — this.”

“Neither did they. But isn’t that how the best love stories start? Unexpected and raw, but also real?” Lloyd sighs, nodding his head. Yeah. It truly was the best love story. Completely unexpected, and the two of you knocked him off his feet, and made him feel things he never thought he would.

”Have you ever asked her what she wants? Surely she doesn’t just want to be an au pair,” Lloyd grunts. It’s the tenth time Ari has pissed him off in one conversation. “I’m sorry, a mom. What if she wants a bookstore, a flower shop, a…”

“She can have it,” Lloyd says with no hesitation.

“A coffee shop that the mister and missus run together. Lyla, busy helping when really she's just playing. A cute little baby bouncing around in a swing because you two can’t stand the thought of being away from each other. Or what was it you wanted to do when you were a boy? A professor,” Lloyd scoffs, rolling his eyes at the stupid ideas of a too young boy. Life happened, and he just rose up the ranks of the life of crime.

“I’m sure your pretty little wife would love to see you bend her over a desk. Punishing that pretty ass before you fuck her stupid.”

“Get out of my fucking fantasy,” both men release an airy laugh. Lloyd looks at the desk in front of him. He couldn’t continue on with this life. “I could do it, you know?”

“I know you could. Just as much as I can join your freakish little fucking games with your girlfriend. And I do mean fucking,” Ari gives Lloyd a wink, who returns the gesture by throwing a pen at him.

“Shut up.”

“You brought it up.”

“I was teasing her. Seeing her get all embarrassed and heated is,” Lloyd glares at Ari. “Oh, shut up! I like to see her squirm.”

“You have a sick need to humiliate, but she likes it,” Ari shrugs. Who is he to judge yours and Lloyd’s kink.

“Yeah, you don’t get to come home to her fucking a copy of my dick while I eat dinner,” his eyes grow distant again. Imagining his favorite show to watch while he eats. Seeing you get off, while simultaneously begging for his real cock, and to just fuck you is the best form of entertainment.

“You should invite me over one night,” Lloyd’s foot goes in between Ari’s legs. Connecting to the seat of his chair, he pushes the chair back causing an uproar of laughter from Ari. “You really are a bastard.”

“You offered!”

“I wasn’t serious.”

“It’s just new. You’ll change your mind,” Ari chuckles as Lloyd walks away from the conversation. Annoyed. Intrigued. Irritated. Turned on? No. Definitely not. Maybe not. Maybe a little.

——

Lloyd opens the door to his home, and quickly turns the alarm back on. It is too quiet. He worked late. Really it was having time to think about what Ari had questioned him about. Being your cute self, you left a dinner plate in the fridge. He isn’t hungry. Just hungry for you.

With a bit more gusto in his step he heads towards your bedroom. He’ll check on Lyla after he wakes you up with an orgasm. It’s been such a long day, and he could use something sweet on his tongue. The peaceful sound of your sleep sounds plays softly under the door.

Now, he could burst through the door, and wake you up with fear. He could crawl up the bed, and plant himself between your thighs, or he can make a trail of kisses up your body before he melts into you. Forgetting the work he does while basking in your warmth. It didn’t matter to him what he did because it was going to be with you.

Opening up the door, he slinks closer to the bed. Starting to peel off his clothes, until the most perfect and beautiful sight he’s ever seen comes into view. Lyla tucked so close to your body while your arm drapes over her. Cuddling the baby into your body. It’s cruel he didn’t get to fall asleep with the two of you.

Seeing just how quickly you took her into your life, and made her yours eases his darkened soul. You didn’t birth her, but you are the most integral part to her raising. He has missed so much time with her, and you. And each day he chooses to live in this life is another day that he misses his family. One day could potentially miss everything. The risk of the job is becoming too real for him.

He could miss her first sentences, her first steps without assistance, her personality coming through. He might miss out on her first day of school, the first person to break her heart, the first date. He shudders thinking of that aspect. Lloyd could risk the possibility of making more adorable babies with you. Forgoing the chance to have a family with you. The ability to give her siblings. It’s a risk he isn’t fully willing to take anymore.

He had too much here. Right in this bed is his life. Not the money, the thrills, the heavy rotation of women. This is the most comfortable and fulfilled he’s ever been. It isn’t worth it anymore. Ari is right.

“You could put on your pajama pants and get in the bed with us.”

“You could meet me in the shower.”

“Lloyd, the baby is sleeping,” playfully he sighs. He’ll take a quick shower, and get back to you. It isn’t worth it to stay away from you. Or her. How did he get here? To a time where he got excited about going home, or wanting to get to work late because he is too busy spending extra time with his girls.

His mind is set. He doesn’t need the job. Investments have been made. He can live an honest life. Maybe. The two of you could have a store. Or do absolutely nothing for a while. Just enjoy each other.

Stepping back into the bedroom, he slides into the spot behind you. His arm moves over your hip, and he lays a hand on Lyla. Her lips pucker out a bit before wiggling close to you, and you give her a kiss to her forehead. “You smell good,” you hum.

“Stop wiggling your ass on me.”

“But you’re warm, and smell good.”

“If you want to keep snuggling our daughter, you better quit. Because I will make you take her to her room, so I can fuck you long and hard,” gasping, you peek behind you to look at him. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not a threat.”

“Fine,” you exhale, starting to close your eyes again. It just feels so much more comfortable when Lloyd is in the bed with you. There’s a rightness to it.

“Is there anything you wanted to do before you got here with us?”

“An art gallery,” whispering, you give Lyla another kiss. It’s a simple answer, and if Lloyd did any light digging into your college degree, he’d know you wanted a life in the art world.

“I will buy you an art gallery,” you snort out a laugh, and his hand moves from Lyla to your breast, and he pinches your nipple. You bite your tongue to not make too much noise. “I’m serious. What if I let all this go? It’s just you and I. A very chic art gallery. Lyla growing up around this rich and creative life.”

“You’re serious?” Did he really say what you think he said? Give it all up.

“Yeah. I don’t think I can continue to be away from you. I’d like to think we’ll have another baby bee or two. I can’t do that if I’m dead. I don’t want to continue to bring all this ugly fear and possibilities into our home. I have enemies, and lots of them. I put you and our children in danger. I can’t have both that life and you. And it’s you and her that I have to choose.”

Lloyd’s face buries into your neck. Nipping along your sensitive skin. Feeling at ease with his decision. He’d get everything situated. He’d give you your dreams, since you have given him his. Being out of this life, and everyday with you, just makes complete sense.

“You sure you don’t want to put Lyla Bee in her bed?”

“No, hers seeping. And hers is really cozy and comfy and warm on her mommy.”

“I love hearing you talking like this,” he shifts slightly, placing his mouth at the shell of your ear. Exhaling just enough to awaken your core, “But I will wake you up with my dick inside you.”

“The baby,” your voice trembles as you try to remain still. You just never know with Lloyd. It’s what makes him so exciting.

“I’ll get her all cleaned up, fed, and in her own bed. I know why you have her in here with you. My needy sweet girl. You are so touch starved, and I love giving you attention. Especially touching you,” how are you supposed to fall asleep now? How can your body get turned on that quickly, and now how are you going just left to drift off. “Get some sleep. You’ll need it.”

“You can’t say things like that, daddy.”

“Shhh…”

Frustrating. He can whisper those things in your ear, setting you on edge. Making sure you wake up horny and ready to take him. Fine. You’ll just wait for when he gets Lyla fed and asleep in her own bed. Like he could be stealthy enough that you don’t wake up with them.

—

You failed.

You failed miserably. You slept through Lloyd waking up, and tending to Lyla, getting her in bed, all while you slept. “Lloyd! Untie me!” His grin turns sinister as he shakes his head no. “Daddy,” you make your voice weak, hoping it entices him to do just that. Not being able to hold him is just cruel.

“Don’t daddy me. You earned this. Do you remember your safe word,” narrowing your eyes, you nod once. “Then say it,” you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “There’s my stubborn girl.”

His boxers are so tented. Straining from his hard length, and if he’s just going to stand there, making you drool over his cock that is pressing so hard against its confines then he is cruel. Your lower lip puckers out as you look down your body. At least you’re still dressed. “Daddy.”

“How much does she need me,” the infuriating thing about this man is his need to talk about you instead of to you. His knee presses into the mattress and yanks your thighs apart before crawling in between your legs. Noticing the glint from his knife too late as he cuts away your satin shorts, and moves up to your shirt. He could have just unbuttoned that. But why would he do the easy or normal thing? No, he just likes to cut them off.

“Shh, I’ll buy you some more,” he whispers, running the blade down the middle of your body. The icy coolness from the metal leaves chill bumps in its wake.

He peels the shreds off you, and drops them onto the floor, before his darkened eyes peer up at you, “No panties?” Your response is a glare. Wishing he’d just get a move on it. “Hmm,” he settles between your legs and gazes up at your weeping cunt. “What has got her so wet? My, my, my. She is soaked. I wonder if it’s me or just being tied up. Or,” he glances up at you with a murderous smile.

Sticking his tongue out, he licks a strip up through your center, moaning in satisfied hunger. “I knew it,” he does it again, but keeps his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he pulls up. A string of your arousal connects the two of you as he keeps those blackened eyes on you. “You’re ovulating.”

You shake your head no with a smile. He’s crazy. Insane. You are on birth control. “Are you so filled with lust you don’t even remember what we decided?” Oh. That. “We decided you would stop taking your pills. Now, here’s where we are now. The chances are higher for you to get pregnant. Before we get started, and you’re filled with desire and not brains, do you want me to come in your cunt, on you, or your mouth. It’s a big decision, I know.”

It is a big decision. Because his warmth inside of you feels so good. He snaps his fingers, “Don’t go into that space. You’ll get fucked regardless. But where am I putting my cum?”

“I don’t — I don’t want to decide.”

“Then I’m wearing a condom.”

“Why?”

“Because you aren’t in the right mind frame to make this decision. You’re acting on just your body‘s feelings,” he’s right. But there are other options of birth control. It doesn’t have to just be pulling out.

“Come in me, and then a morning after pill,” Lloyd nods towards the dresser. Of course he’d have one ready. “You’re not questioning me?”

“Why would I?” Yes, you get the contradiction. You stopped birth control, and now are using an alternative. But you just can’t think past wanting to feel him. “When you’re not tied up, and spread eagle, maybe you’ll think differently. But you just want me to fuck you and fill you with my seed, huh?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“I do really like looking at this pussy though. She looks gorgeous, all wet, and ready to take me. Lyla is dozing off with her lullabies playing and you are just ripe for the taking.”

“So take me,” your threat or warning, whichever, is enough for him to position himself. Lloyd runs his aching, throbbing cock through your folds, while you stare at him sheepishly. “I can’t touch you.”

“I just enjoy seeing you squirm,” he responds before crashing into your warmth with no warning. Leaving your head to lean back as the utmost pleasure of having his length fill you up with a sharp pain. Taking him is a hard task. “Don’t you ever get used to me, Dolly,” he grunts before pulling out, and spearing hard back into you.

You whine as he bottoms out. Jerking on your restraints as you try to ground yourself with his body. “It’s a bit of an effort,” he starts to pull out again, and slams into your wet heat. Your toes curl at such a harsh intrusion, and you want more. “But I still think your pretty little cunt was made to take me.”

His hips piston into you quickly. Over and over he pounds into your body, and you can’t do anything, but take it. Take his heavy cock. Take every inch of him. Every jolt of his body pushing into you, you take. “Such a good sweet girl. You’re not even arguing with me. You like my cock too much, huh?”

“Uh huh,” with that admission he fucks into you so hard you feel him in the depths of your soul. His body becomes one with you. The most vulgar way that you can think of to accept that the two of you are one. You are a team, never to be split. Together forever. This is the man that you will live for and die with. The man that will burn the world down if it means saving you and his family.

He’s it.

He’s everything.

And yes, you do take him so well.

Even the slight tinge of discomfort feels amazing as your cunt stretches to accommodate him. You will get to experience him, this life, a new life, all of it forever. Have more adorable babies. Have a life you’re happy in. A life you’ve dreamed about. Away from the violence and secrets. A life that you’ll be okay with raising a family. A life different than the one you were raised in.

This is it.

All you’ve ever wanted.

Right here in this home.

Right here in your body.

“Stay with me, Dolly. Don’t you go all dumb before I come inside you.”

“Daddy, I love you.”

“Love you, too, baby,” he’s so deep into your body, you feel his head swell as he empties his load into you. “Mmm,” you sigh as his warmth fills up your swollen pussy.

He leans forward to kiss on your forehead, while his hands undo your cuffs. Your arm drop free, and you pull him close to you. His lips still press warmly against your cheek as he starts to pull away. “Don’t go.”

“I was getting the pill.”

“It can wait,” he shuffles to lay beside you, but pulls you on top of him instead. “It can wait until next time.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Then don’t worry about it.”

“What — changed your mind?”

“Just this once. Once a month,” his brow cocks up, and he smiles. “Once a month you get to have unprotected sex. The rest of the month, you pull out,” he says your real name, but you cover his mouth. “Unless you don’t want to. Then you can wear a condom,” Lloyd shakes his head. “Would you be okay with it if I happened to get pregnant?”

“Dolly, I’m okay with whatever you want to do. My life is yours, and pretty sure it has been since the first moment I saw you. I’m all yours. However you want this to go. Just don’t tell me to go away.”

“I’d never.”

And you wouldn’t. Not ever.

He is yours, and you are his.

And with your touch, you changed his entire world. His entire being.

Forever.

The End, friend. Or is it...?

Next

Masterlist

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[suzieloveships]

Cybertron Pre-Sentinel's betray

AKA High Guard x B99 au

Part 1/Part 3

Starscream: no big deal, I'm not afraid to be alone with my thoughts, my thoughts are awesome. Action holofilms, traveling to another planets, gigantic cubes of energon, my mother never loved me, I'm going to die alone Starscream: oh boy, that happened fast ------ Starscream: How are we looking? Skywarp: Sexy, but not like we're trying too hard. Like, sure we're trying, but it's almost...effortless? ------ Starscream: Megatronus got injured during our last mission. Megatronus: I’m not injured, I was just lightly stabbed. Prima: I’m sorry, you were stabbed! Megatronus: LIGHTLY stabbed! ------ Starscream: So, what, now I'm just supposed to do anything that Shockwave does? I mean, what if he jumped off a cliff? Megatronus: If Shockwave were to jump off a cliff, he would've done his due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry, so yes. If you see Shockwave jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff. Starscream: You jump off a cliff. Magatronus: Gladly. Provided Shockwave did first. ------ Starscream: I refuse to believe anyone here is a mole. Here, watch this. I know what everyone's gonna do tonight. Skywarp is going to pratice teleporting again. Skyfire's gonna be going over his weekly budget. Thundercraker is going to write his fanfics and if I run and leap at Soundwave, he will most certainly catch me in his servos. Coming in! Soundwave: No! I'm holding energon! [Starscream jumps and Soundwave lets him fall] ------ Thundercracker: Skyfire, do I look like Starscream to you? Skyfire: What? Thundercracker: do I look like Starscream to you?! Skyfire: No? Thundercracker: then why are you trying to screw me?!  ----- Starscream: The question is: Who here does the best impression of Megatronus Prime? You'll be judged on voice, body language, and overall lack of flair. Everyone will perform the same scenario: Megatronus eating a sweet cube for the very first time. Let the Prime-off begin! Soundwave: What is this non-nutrition monstrosity before me? Shockwave: The sugar in this is quite sweet. Thundercracker: Ooh, mm-hmm, mm-hmm-hmm-hmm! Starscream: That's your Prime impression? Thundercracker: I can hear him doing that. Skywarp: Looks like a sticky pillow. Starscream: I don't care for it. Classical music. Megatronus: What's going on here? What are you doing? Starscream: Captain, hey, nothing, just eating some sweet cubes. Care for one? Megatronus: Sweet cubes? [eats it] Hmm. Hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm! Thundercracker: I knew it! ------ Megatronus: What happened? Starscream: Well... remember when you told me not to burn the ship down? Megatronus: You burned the ship down?? Starscream: No, I had the fire put out immediately. This is a success story! ------ Starscream: Oh... I’m so tired. I can’t keep my optics open. Here, I need you to slap me. Megatronus: I’m not gonna do that. Megatronus: [Slaps him hard] Megatronus: I thought perhaps the element of surprise would help. Starscream: It did! ------ Starscream: I'm gonna go take another crack at that Quintesson's spy we captured. Skyfire: You've been in there, like, five times. What are you gonna do? Annoy him into talking? Starscream: Ha, ha. Very funny. *Later* Starscream, sitting in front of a spy with a guitar: 2, 3, 4! Starscream, strumming randomly on guitar: *Pterodactyl screeching* ------ Starscream: Alright, you’re clearly not listening to me. I can say whatever I want. Soundwave: Tell me about it. Starscream: I murdered Thundercracker as revenge. Soundwave: I feel you. Starcream: Now that I realize how easy it is to solve problems that way, I can’t stop murdering. Soundwave: Been there.

[fel-09]

Howdy! Hello! Thanks for answer my last request so quickly! It was amazing and your writing is wonderful to read!

I had another request if you are interested? Another Thranduil x Reader, except in this one Reader can’t feel pain? Like not a situation where they have a high pain tolerance but they have a medical condition that makes it impossible for them to feel pain!

And who will protect you?

Sorry for the mistakes, I'm very tired.

You were used to curious stares.

Humans, elves, dwarves-anyone who recognized your secret gazed at you with apprehension, doubt, or even disgust. You felt no pain. Not at all. Since birth. It was not a gift, not a blessing, but rather a curse. Deprived of your natural self-preservation mechanism, you have been on the brink of life and death many times.

Thranduil learned of this by accident.

The battle was fierce. Arrows bursting, screams, the smell of blood. You fought alongside the elves of Licholesia, twirling among your enemies, not noticing the blades cutting through your skin. Only when the battle was over, when everyone held their breath in the deafening silence, did Thranduil notice you - bloody, with wounds that should have rolled you off your feet.

- Why are you standing there? - His voice was cold, but wariness lurked in his eyes.

You shrugged.

- It's not fatal.

His gaze slid to the deep cut on your side. The blood flowed in an even, dark line, and only the absence of a grimace of pain proved your words. He didn't believe it at first, but when you looked up at him with a calm, even indifferent gaze, something in his face changed.

Thranduil was an elf who saw everything, felt everything. He felt the rustle of leaves as they fell from the trees. He felt the warmth of the fire, even if he didn't touch it. His world was made of sensations, and you... you were devoid of them.

He couldn't understand that.

- So you don't feel pain. - He'd said it once, watching you bandage a fresh wound on your arm.

You nodded.

- How do you know you're not feeling well?

You hesitated.

- By the blood," you answered simply.

Thranduil stared at you for a long time, too long, as if trying to figure out something impossible.

- It means you could be hurt, but you wouldn't know it.

You nodded again.

- 'It makes you vulnerable.

- It makes me strong,' you parried.

He grinned.

- No. It makes you a mortal who doesn't realize the limits of her body.

You didn't answer, but a strange emotion flared inside. You'd never thought of yourself the way he said.

Thranduil was watching you. You saw it out of the corner of your eye, felt his presence in the shadows of the trees, in the remoteness of the palace corridors. He asked questions no one had ever asked before.

- Are you afraid of death?

- No.

- But if you can't feel pain, then you can't tell when it's time to stop.

- That's right.

- It scares me.

You looked up at him sharply. The king, whose mask of unwavering confidence never fell, was admitting fear?

He stepped closer, slowly, as if he feared breaking the thin line that separated you.

- I don't want you to die.

You smiled.

- 'No one does.

He frowned.

- I want you to live.

Those words penetrated your heart. No one had ever said it to you like that before, with such feeling. People have wondered, feared, but not cared. No one tried to protect you from yourself.

One day he reached out and touched your palm.

- Can you feel it?

You shook your head.

- But you realize I'm there for you?

- Yes.

He squeezed your hand tighter.

- Then you can feel, just differently.

You didn't know what to say.

With him by your side, you began to realize something different. You didn't feel pain, but you felt the warmth of his hands. You didn't feel hurt, but you felt his eyes on you. And for the first time in your life, you wanted to feel pain to see if it was real.

But the pain didn't come.

Only something else came, the feeling that you didn't have to be with him.

didn't have to be the one

he didn't feel. Because he felt for both of them.

You expected it.

Thranduil didn't say anything out loud, but you knew it would happen. When the King of Licholesia made a decision, no one could change his mind. No one, except perhaps time itself.

- You will not go into battle.

His voice was calm, but steel lurked in that calmness.

You froze, clutching the bandaged blade in your hand.

- I have fought before.

- And you won't again.

You gritted your teeth.

- Thranduil, this is not your war.

- This is not your war. - He stepped closer, and you could see the anger glittering in the depths of his eyes, cold and icy as a winter night. - You go into battle without realizing your limits. You could bleed out and not notice.

You clenched your fists.

- I know my limits!

- Lie. - He raised his hand as if about to touch your face, but stopped at the last moment. - You don't even know where your body ends.

You didn't answer.

He took another step forward, and you felt the tension in the room become as palpable as a bell.

- I forbid you.

Silence.

You stared at him, incredulous, irritated, but deep down.... you were afraid.

- You have no right.

- Yes, I do. - His voice was firm. - I am your king.

You wanted to hit him. You wanted to claw at him, make him realize he couldn't decide for you.

But he'd already made up his mind.

You unclenched your fists.

- Is it because you're afraid?

He didn't answer right away. But when he did, there was something different in his words.

- Yes.

You felt the ground slipping away from under your feet.

- If you felt pain, you'd know when to stop. - His voice got quieter, deeper. - And now I have to do it for you.

You turned away.

- You don't understand.

- I do. - Thranduil leaned down to look into your eyes. - You're used to living on the edge. But now you have something to lose.

You didn't know what to say.

You could have thrown yourself into battle, gone against his will, proved something, but... в

this time it was different.

Thranduil wasn't just forbidding.

He was protecting you.

You felt the tension in the air become almost palpable.

Thranduil stood across from you, his gaze piercing you, but not with anger, but with something much deeper. Anxiety. Fear. Something he probably never allowed himself to show.

You wanted to say something, but he didn't give you time.

Warm palms rested on your cheeks, and before you could blink, his lips touched yours.

The kiss was deep, but not desperate. It was firm, but not demanding. It was... protective.

Like he was trying to convey to you through that touch everything he couldn't put into words.

When he pulled away, his forehead remained pressed against yours. He was breathing heavily, as if he had to fight for this moment.

- I know you want to protect people," his voice was quiet, but it was so strong that you felt as if the words were imprinted in the air. - But who will protect you?

You didn't have time to answer.

His hands slid down your back, enclosing you in an embrace. They weren't hard or overbearing. They were strong, secure, like he was trying to keep you safe from the world.

- Except for me," he whispered. - I'm your only defense...

You froze, feeling him press you into him, as if that weren't enough, as if he was afraid you'd disappear into thin air if he loosened his grip.

- I'm afraid... - he breathed out this confession into your hair, so quietly that if you hadn't been so close, you might not have heard it at all. - I don't want to admit it, but I'm afraid I'm going to lose you.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

You're used to fear, but not like this.

You're used to being afraid for others, but not for yourself.

And now, in his arms, you realized - for the first time, someone was afraid for you.

Not because you were weak.

But because you were important to him.

You hugged him back, pulling him closer.

- Then let me stay close.

He

didn't respond with words. He just squeezed you tighter.