#even though he struggles to believe any of that himself........
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fandoms-x-reader · 3 days ago
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Eldest Sibling! MC
Headcannons
Requested By: @ainmunaqadh
Summary: The brothers' reactions to an MC who is the oldest sibling but is also the shortest sibling, and they have some self-esteem issues because of it. The Seven Brothers x Reader Word Count: 1,524
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Lucifer is on your side one hundred percent of the time. He knew how frustrating it could be at times when you were the eldest sibling.
You felt responsible for your younger siblings and that responsibility made it all the more aggravating when your siblings didn’t listen to you.
Likewise, it was easier for you to understand some of the decisions that Lucifer made, even when none of his brothers could understand his reasons.
And he was grateful to have someone like you in the House of Lamentation. It was a presence that he was sorely missing from his life.
There have been times when he caught you giving lectures to his brothers when they’ve done something particularly rambunctious and he’s never been so proud.
In his head, he’s encouraging you to give them the scolding of a lifetime. But, he won’t step in. He’ll just admire you in action.
And if your self-esteem issues ever come up, he’ll do everything in his power to try and dispel them.
You were an excellent eldest sibling and you were great at being in charge; and, he would make sure the whole world knew it.
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Mammon would relate to you the most out of everyone. He understood what it was like to be an older sibling but not get any respect from your little siblings.
You were the shortest out of all your siblings and because of that, sometimes they didn’t treat you like you were the eldest and that gave you a lack of self-confidence sometimes.
Mammon was always battling with his younger siblings. He did his best to come off as confident and self-assured as Lucifer was, but he was constantly made fun of by his little brothers and that led to him having self-esteem issues.
He’ll know how to comfort you when you’re feeling down on yourself more than anyone else because he’s speaking from experience.
And, if you ever get snippy with his younger brothers, you’ll ignite a new sense of confidence in Mammon.
He’ll think of the two of you as a team, and unlike Lucifer, he’ll verbally encourage you with your scolding.
He’ll wear a prideful smirk the entire time and endure the glares from his younger brothers while you finish your lecture.
And when you’re done, he’ll give them a pointed look, silently telling them not to mess with either one of you again. But, really, it’s just you the demon brothers don’t want to mess with. They could care less about Mammon being there for the lecture.
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Levi struggled with being an older sibling sometimes. He knew that as the third-born, he was supposed to be looked at as one of the leaders when it came to his family.
But, he struggled with the pressure of making decisions and having strict rules which is why he typically kept to his room and did his own things.
So, it’s a bit of a comfort for him to see that you, an older sibling, also struggled sometimes with your siblings. It made him feel like less of a disappointment.
You had seen how determined and intimidating Levi could be in his games sometimes and you believed that if he could bring that out of himself in real life, he could be as intimidating as Lucifer to his younger brothers.
Levi didn’t care too much about real-life situations though. What he cared about was the way your assertive nature came out when the two of you were playing games.
With the way you could take charge in games, he thought you must be the best older sibling in the world.
Levi would be another one who would be good at helping you with your self-esteem issues and you were just as good at helping him with his.
He even took charge of his brothers a couple of times, surprising himself with his words. He was stunned when his little brothers actually listened to him and he was certain it was because of your encouragement. 
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Satan’s reasons for not liking Lucifer weren’t because he was the eldest sibling. It was because everyone compared him to Lucifer.
So, the fact that you’re the eldest sibling doesn’t bother Satan one bit.
In fact, he enjoys the way you’ll put yourself in charge and handle the situations that come up during your time in the Devildom.
It takes a special person to be able to adapt to a life full of demons and you took the challenge head-on and exceeded everyone’s expectations.
Satan couldn’t help but wonder if your siblings helped prepare you for your adventures down there. Maybe your siblings acted like demons - so to speak.
Whatever it was, Satan was grateful for it. He adored watching you when you were being assertive and had a small smirk whenever one of his siblings was taken aback by it.
Here they were, Avatars of Sin and some of the most powerful demons in the Devildom and they were being intimidated by you.
Everything about your personality impressed Satan, and if anyone dared to not show you the proper respect, he would step in.
That included if your siblings decided to tease you about being the shortest one.
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To put it simply, Asmo liked it when someone could be dominant.
And since you were the eldest sibling, you tended to have your moments of dominance.
They would make Asmo swoon every time.
It was the way you presented yourself that made Asmo fawn over you.
You could act so sweet and innocent at times and then whenever someone crossed a line, you would be giving them a lecture that competed with Lucifer’s.
It was exciting for Asmo to see both sides of you so he didn’t mind your “eldest sibling” personality one bit.
In fact, in true Asmo fashion, sometimes if he caught one of his brothers doing something wrong, he would call on you just so he could see you give them a good scolding.
The first time he found out that you had some confidence issues due to your height, he was shocked. How could you of all people have self-esteem issues when you were so perfect to him?
But, if there was anyone who could help with confidence, it was Asmo.
He would shower you with compliments until you believed him.
And if your siblings ever made fun of your height in front of him, rest assured he’ll find a way to ensure they never do it again.
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Beel might be the second-to-youngest out of his siblings, but he had a very mature personality and sometimes acted more like an older sibling than some of his brothers.
And because of how mature he was, it was easy for you to get along with him.
Beel never got into any trouble or tried to stir up issues. The worst he ever did was eat all of the food - but that was to be expected of the Avatar of Gluttony.
But, whenever you needed help lecturing one of his brothers, he was the perfect helping hand.
There had been multiple times Lucifer called on Beel to help him punish one of his siblings and Beel never questioned it as long as there was proper food compensation.
And the same went for you. If one of the brothers did something that made you mad or was deserving of a lecture, he would hunt them down for you and make sure they stayed still as you taught them a lesson.
And he didn’t even do it for the food. He just did it for you because he cared about you. And because maybe he enjoyed it when you were in charge.
He would make sure to never be on the receiving end of your lecture. And, when he found out about your low self-esteem, he would do everything he could to help you come to love your height the way he did.
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Belphie is the least pleased about your “eldest sibling” personality. But that’s mostly just because he has a hard time getting along with Lucifer.
It wasn’t that he necessarily thought that Lucifer was a bad person - it was just his nagging was something that irritated Belphie beyond belief.
It got to the point where Belphie would actually dread seeing his brother sometimes, knowing that a lecture usually came with him.
So, naturally, he expected you to be the same way. Always on his case about something. 
And it was easy for you to see Lucifer’s side of things when it came to Belphie. Sometimes, the eldest sibling has to make tough decisions for their own good.
But, you never flaunted it the way Lucifer did, which was a huge thing for Belphie.
And although you could have your times when you scolded the brothers, you always knew how to lighten up and have some fun with them.
That was something that seemed impossible for Lucifer to do.
So, although he’s a bit wary of you at first, he can see that you aren’t just Lucifer 2.0 and because of that, he grows closer to you all the same.
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casscainmainly · 2 days ago
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if you had a graph with the x axis being from "doesn't view batman as a father" to "views batman as a father" and y axis being from "doesn't view bruce as a father" to "views bruce as a father", where would you put each batkid?
btw, i love your recent metas <3
This is such an interesting ask!! Here's my rendition of it:
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I'm going to add a little reasoning because these are contestable!
Dick: I personally don't think Dick separates Bruce from Batman the way some other Batkids do. Even if he did, Dick has been with Bruce so long, is so steeped in both his vigilante and civilian lives, that he's Bruce's son in any identity. Their bond transcends any 'Bruce vs. Batman' division.
Tim: Similarly, I don't think Tim separates Bruce/Batman, especially since he came into his life knowing both identities. The reason he's lower than Dick is because Bruce wasn't his dad originally; I'm a little biased since I'm now reading Batman: Contagion, but the presence of Jack Drake in much of Tim's tenure as Robin prevents Tim from being as strongly attached to 'Bruce/Batman = dad' as Dick.
Cass: Of course Cass separates Bruce and Batman very clearly, as she does with many people, such as herself and Babs as Oracle. For the early part of their relationship she didn't know Bruce, nor did she care; Batman is her father, Bruce is just the guy Batman happens to be sometimes. (I think this is less true recently, but she still thinks of Batman first and Bruce second).
Damian: Struggled with him because he definitely thinks of Bruce as his dad under any name, but I do think it's Batman that matters to him. He is the 'blood son' but it's the Robin mantle that establishes his relationship to Bruce (Robin, Son of Batman, not Damian, son of Bruce). This may have changed recently with the current Batman and Robin run, but for the majority of Damian's time I think it's fair to say he thought of himself as the son of Batman, not Bruce. (He is not anti Bruce though, which is why he's not that low).
Jason: Jason for sure thinks of Bruce as his dad - the entirety of UtRH wouldn't have happened if Jason didn't believe to his core that Bruce loved him as a son. That belief is so strong that Bruce overshadows Batman, in a way. Jason spars with Batman on the moral front, but his conflict is ultimately always with Bruce, which is the name he consistently uses in UtRH. This is the one I'm least sure about though because I've not read lots of Jason's runs.
Stephanie: Like Cass, Stephanie didn't know Bruce at all, so a lot of her relationship to him is Batman-only. She definitely doesn't think of either Bruce or Batman as a father - her desire for Batman's approval has shades of him being a father-figure, but it never goes as far as an actual desire for a father-daughter relationship. The only reason she's higher than Duke is because of the somewhat complicated way he echoes a father (and she, to Bruce, echoes Jason).
Duke: Duke doesn't really care about Bruce, and he cares about Batman only as a mentor. He basically tells Bruce he's only useful as Batman; even then, Duke doesn't have a super deep emotional attachment to Batman. He also loves Doug, who's still alive (though MIA), and wouldn't replace him in any scenario. He explicitly calls Batman a 'mentor' and 'friend'.
These are just my takes, I'm sure there are other interpretations of every single one of these. It's one of those questions that highly depends on your preferred dynamics for the characters, where canon can go either way. Even if this is horribly incorrect, I hope it was interesting! Thanks for the ask <3.
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velvet-n-lace · 3 days ago
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NSFW Alphabet (Lucifer Edition)
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Series: Obey Me!
Genre: Smut/Headcanon
Word Count: 1.7k words
Pairing(s): Lucifer x Female MC
A/N: This has probably been done before, but I wanted to throw in my two cents. I made some for the other brothers too ;)
Original Template by @/the-coldest-goodbye 
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A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Lucifer is both sweet and caring. He would leave you a bit sore, but he knows how to soothe the pain and patch up some wounds. He would clean you up and then hold you in his arms so that the pleasure lingers. He is gentle and possessive when he traces your skin and leaves goosebumps behind.
B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)
For Lucifer, it’s his arms and hands. Without them, he wouldn’t cuddle with you or perform some sadistic desires on your body. His favorite part of your body is your pretty face, specifically your lips and blushing cheeks. He loves tracing them with his thumb and kissing your lips passionately.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)
Lucifer cums huge loads, and he cums multiple times in every position. He especially loves watching you swallow it or when it leaks down your mouth like frosting. Sometimes, it’s a bit much and spills over your face, or it’s leaking out your quivering pussy. His cum is bittersweet; its saltiness reflects his personality~
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Y’know how Lucifer ties up his brothers to the ceiling as a punishment? He does that out of love, if you could believe it. As for you, though, it’s simply for his pleasure; sometimes, he punishes you for the littlest things just to see you bounded with rope, all helpless and vulnerable. He admires his work well with a wicked grin the more he sees you struggling to break free. The tighter the ropes are, the more you will be writhing in frustration; Lucifer lives for that.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Lucifer is very experienced, as expected, but he won’t tell you how he got these experiences. Obviously, he punishes his brothers and ties them to the ceiling; that explains his sadism, but the sex is a mystery. It’s off the charts, so maybe deep down inside, he’s just a built-in sex god.
F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)
Any position where he looks down at you with fear and pleasure in your eyes. Kneeling, giving him a blowjob, fucking you from behind, fucking you against the wall, or getting fucked beneath him give him his power. He also loves the positions where he restrains your limbs besides bouncing on his dick. Riding him could be its own form of pussy torture, but that’s only if you're getting punished.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)
Serious, of course he is, but he can be very teasing. If he’s in the mood to fuck the brattiness out of you, he will push your buttons and then punish you for it. He knows the game, and you almost hate him for it.
H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He’s very well-groomed. You can tell he keeps himself clean for any occasion, even when he doesn't need to be. The carpet matches the drapes perfectly, and he keeps it well-shaven and trimmed.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)
Lucifer is so sweet; the affection he gives you practically seeps through your skin, and he knows that the more love he gives you, the more pleasure you will be drowning in. His touch is firm but laced with pride and passion, especially in the aftercare.
J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)
When Luci started falling in love with you, there were times when he had to relieve himself in unexpected ways. Of course, he locks the door to his room and jacks himself off, but there have been days when jacking off in his office was more exciting, especially when you walked in and did something unintentionally sexy in front of him. Getting a boner in the middle of the day is always so bothersome for him since it’s so obvious. He would just imagine your mouth on his cock as he pumps himself hard. Having you so close yet unaware of his desires was once thrilling until he finally got to feel your body against his.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Bondage and S&M are his prominent kinks. If it wasn’t clear already, having power over you is what he lives for. If you are comfortable being his slave, you will be collared and bound in rope or leather. He won't be able to control himself when you tap into his praise kink, especially when you call him “Master” or “Daddy.”
L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)
His room and your room, but also maybe his office. Fucking you into his bedsheets is fun, and having you fucked over his desk is risky; but damn, he always fantasized about doing it to you. If there is an empty classroom, he might try that, but that’s even more risky.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Anything you do can give him some type of desire, especially if it’s unintentional, like bending over to pick up something or reaching for something across a desk. Acting like a brat would definitely have you over his knee for a spanking; the sharp sting on your ass is a constant reminder of your place.
N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Seeing you making pacts and flirting with his brothers made him slightly jealous. It wasn’t phasing him at first, but the more he wanted you, the more possessive he became. Sharing you is a massive no-no unless maybe Lord Diavolo was invited to your little twosome. Anything that causes him to lose any sense of power or control over you is not nearly as bad as sharing you, but he prefers being the one on top.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He prefers receiving it from you. It’s probably one of the only times you could take charge as you worship his cock and have him writhing in pleasure before he shoots his load down your throat. His skills with giving are god-like. He would eat you out and finger your pussy, only to stop and leave you begging for him to go harder and faster.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
He’s slow and sensual if you prefer vanilla sex; he doesn't mind if that is what you like; his cock would reach your cervix anyway. When you’ve gotten used to his length, it’ll feel like the first time with more flare. When he goes rough and fast, you will be climaxing with a scream.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He doesn’t prefer them, but there are days when he wants you on his cock in the middle of class. When he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into an empty classroom, that means he’s desperate and knows he can get away with it. He’ll be fine; he knows what he wants and will leave you wanting more throughout the day.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)
If you like it a little bit rough, Lucifer can bring in more challenging positions or some more intense BDSM. Fucking in the office or an empty classroom is a risk too, especially if you are loud.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)
Lucifer can go for a long time if there is enough preparation. Usually, he stops if you’ve had enough of it for one night; he wouldn’t want to destroy you completely. Sometimes, he’s a bit exhausted from the student council work and dealing with his brothers, so there are days when you have to be the one taking charge.
T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
Lucifer owns a whip, for some reason~ He’s got some rope to tie you up with, and at times, he can just use anything around him to spank you with, like a leather binder or a ruler. If he owns anything else, it’s probably something he bought to use on you~
U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)
He would tease you if you were being extra bratty. He’s a serious demon, so he would always maintain a professional demeanor if you two were in public. The teasing is subtle, like when he gives your thighs a light caress or when he sneaks his fingers under your skirt to rub your clit through your panties.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He knows how to set his volume low; his grunts and moans are like a whisper on your skin, making you shiver. His breathing is also soft and deep; it always puts you in a trance. Some of his moans can be guttural if you tighten around him or deepthroat him. You can always just make him loud ;)
W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)
He can let you take charge at times; he loves you so damn much that he can let you be the one ordering him around or pleasuring you~ It was a bit humiliating at first, but it didn't matter anymore; if anyone had to order him around, it either has to be Lord Diavolo or you. You are his Master, after all~
X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Lucifer’s cock is huge. It’s veiny and long with a crimson tip. He can grip his shaft in his hands, and its veins add to its girth. It’s almost overwhelming to look at, and you can't help but wonder if Lucifer is proud to have such a massive tool. He is very much proud~
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
His sex drive is mildly high, but he knows how to control it as if it’s not there. He can never show it around anyone; otherwise, he reveals his weakness to you. If his brothers ever found out, he would be livid.
Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)
When the aftercare is over, he will make sure you are comfortable in bed with him. He will fall asleep shortly after you fall asleep.
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adddddiiii · 1 day ago
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Hi! Could I request a Damian x femreader where her parents don't accept Damian because they think he is a playboy like his father and because they don't want their daugther to have a boyfriend to distract her from her studies, so they force them to break up amd now Damian need to gain their approval so her parents will let them date
Winning Their Approval
Contents: Damian Wayne x reader
Warnings: One use of y/n
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The first time Damian met your parents, he’d thought it went well—at least on the surface. They were polite, though your father’s firm handshake lingered just a bit too long, and your mother’s smile seemed more rehearsed than genuine. You had reassured him afterward that they simply needed time to warm up to him.
But time hadn’t helped.
When they sat you down one evening to announce their decision, it hit you like a ton of bricks.
“We don’t think Damian is the right fit for you,” your mother said firmly. “You’re so focused on your studies right now, sweetie, and we don’t want anything—or anyone—distracting you from your future.”
Your father chimed in, his tone sterner. “Besides, Damian comes from a… colorful background. His father’s reputation precedes him, and we have no reason to believe he’s any different.”
You’d argued, of course. You’d told them how Damian wasn’t like Bruce, how he was caring, loyal, and supportive. But they wouldn’t listen. By the time you called Damian to tell him what had happened, you were in tears.
“I don’t care what they think,” Damian had said, his voice low and firm through the phone. “They don’t get to decide who you’re with. If you want to keep seeing me-”
“No, Damian,” you interrupted, your heart breaking. “I can’t go against them right now. Please, just give me some time to figure this out.”
For the first time since you’d met him, Damian had no response. The line went quiet for a moment before he finally whispered, “Okay. But I’m not giving up.”
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You tried to move on, to focus on your schoolwork and avoid the ache in your chest, but Damian was never far from your mind. Late at night, you stared at the messages you wanted to send him, your fingers hovering over the keyboard before deleting them.
Unbeknownst to you, Damian wasn’t just waiting on the sidelines. He was strategizing.
One Friday evening, your parents called you into the living room and your stomach dropped when you saw Damian sitting on the couch, his posture perfect, hands resting on his knees. His expression was calm, but you could see the tension in his shoulders.
“What’s going on?” you asked, glancing between him and your parents.
“Damian requested to meet us,” your father said, his tone unreadable. “He wants to… prove himself.”
Your eyes widened, and you looked at Damian. He met your gaze, his green eyes filled with determination.
“Y/n, I meant what I said. I’m not giving up on us,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that made your heart clench.
Your mother cleared her throat, pulling your attention back. “Damian asked for a chance to prove that he’s serious about you—and about respecting our concerns. We decided to give him an opportunity to try.”
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Damian’s efforts were nothing short of extraordinary. He volunteered to help you study for your exams, often coming over to your house and sitting with you for hours. He was patient when you struggled and quick to clear your doubts.
When your parents observed him, they couldn’t deny his dedication. He wasn’t a distraction — he was an ally.
One evening, after helping you solve a particularly challenging problem, Damian leaned back in his chair, smirking.
“You’re brilliant, you know that?” he said.
You rolled your eyes, a blush creeping up your cheeks. “You’re just saying that because you want my parents to like you.”
“Not true,” he replied, leaning closer. “I’d say it even if they didn’t exist.”
Your laughter filled the room, and for a moment, everything felt normal again.
But Damian didn’t stop there. He invited your parents to a formal dinner at Wayne Manor, where Alfred prepared an exquisite meal. Damian made sure to engage them in thoughtful conversation, so he could truly show them how much he cared about you.
“I want your daughter to succeed just as much as you do,” he told them while they were all waiting for dessert. “I don’t want to hold her back — I want to be someone who helps her reach her potential.”
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One evening, as you and Damian were studying in the living room, your father called him aside. You watched nervously as they disappeared into the kitchen.
“I’ve been watching you,” your father said, crossing his arms. “You’ve done everything we’ve asked and more. But I need to know one thing — why are you so determined to be with my daughter?”
Damian didn’t hesitate. “Because she’s the most important person in my life. She makes me want to be better. I care about her, sir. Deeply. And I’m willing to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”
Your father stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “All right. You’ve earned my respect. But remember — if you ever hurt her, you’ll answer to me.”
Damian’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Understood.”
When your parents finally gave their approval, you could hardly believe it. You threw your arms around Damian and hugged him hard.
“I told you I’d win them over,” he murmured, holding you close.
“You’re amazing,” you whispered.
“I know,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “But so are you."
And from that day on, you faced the world together, knowing that nothing—not even the initial disapproval of your parents—could keep you apart.
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nowimjustastranger · 2 days ago
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Has Lee (or any Stan ever) had to restrain STCMO Ford from going feral/lethal on another Ford?
If so, how would they go about that? Would they have to do a hug type of restraint? Would they simply have to get between them? Would they pick him up? Or throw him over there shoulder? Crocodile tears to get him to come fuss over them?
I figure they wouldn't be afraid of him cause they(or Lee would at least) probably know he wouldn't purposely hurt a Stanley
In the beginning, Lee absolutely had to grab at Ford to keep him from acting on his homicidal impulses. However, as they grew closer and got more attached to one another, Lee wouldn't need to physically restrain Ford anymore. Usually, just a sharp bark of his name is enough to get him to back off.
Sometimes, Lee will have to give Ford an ultimatum though. Either Ford can fuss over Lee (who is very good at acting like he's in distress) or continue to be a murderous pain in the ass. It's fairly obvious which option Ford always goes with. Lee is absolutely not afraid of Ford, doesn't find him intimidating at all after Ford brings him on a mission soon after they meet (Ford kidnaps him) where Ford keeps a Stan from freezing to death in his car.
As for Stans in general, they usually only feel the need to restrain Ford if he goes after their brother. One instance in particular was absolute chaos, with Ford and his counterpart getting into a bloody scuffle after Ford brought Stan to the Ford's doorstep only for the Ford to turn Stan away.
Ford had made himself known by launching himself at his counterpart, the two hitting the floor in the entryway in a tangle of flailing limbs and shouting. Even when Stan separated them, Ford pursued his counterpart through the house. Ford ended up getting tackled by Stan before he could get his hands on the Ford a second time, Ford's struggling tapering off as he went limp and pliant under Stan.
Ford is often blinded by emotion when it comes to Stans (or Lee), growing frustrated with his counterparts because they don't know how good they have it.
They have a brother who loves them more than anything and all they can focus on was their own problems and pain, writing Stan's suffering off as deserved. Nothing gets Ford more riled up than those selfish and self-centered Fords who believe that Stan owes them or that they're entitled to being a shit brother just because of what happened at the science fair.
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candyheartedchy · 2 days ago
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Part two of this, so if you want more context on this analysis, please read the first part!
In part one I went over the struggles of SpongeBob’s desire to fit in and how he falls into this perfectionist nature. And because of this, he also falls into being a people pleaser A LOT. Where he’ll put the needs of others (mostly his friends) before his own. He also gets tricked and manipulated constantly by folks for their own personal gain and selfish reasons. Not to say SpongeBob doesn’t have any himself, but he tends to put his own on the back burner in order to please his friends. Again, he’s a people pleaser, he wants everyone to like him. The episode “Not Normal” is another example of him worrying he’s not normal enough and changes his personality and appearance because he thinks he’ll be better. He also worries what his own parents think of him, even though his parents don’t mind his energetic nature and childlike wonder.
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Once again trying to prove himself to people. But the question still stands, will he ever “grow up” and “be mature”?
Well, that’s where Coraline (my self insert) comes in.
Coraline is a sea monster. Her species is well known for being scary and dangerous. But she’s not. She’s an outcast. Spending her entire youth bullied by other sea monsters due to being seen as “sensitive” and “weak”. And once old enough, she leaves her trench. Going from town to town trying to find a place to call home, before finding herself in Bikini Bottom and ends up working for Plankton because no one else will hire her. Already sealing her fate of crossing paths with SpongeBob. And once the two do meet, SpongeBob of course wants to befriend her, offering to show her around because he wants to make a good impression. But due to Mr. Krabs threatening him when they find out she works for Plankton, the sponge once again puts others before his own needs, causing Coraline to get stood up by him. And then SpongeBob ends up having to apologize later on.
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[More context of this in the first two chapters of the fanfic about them here!]
Eventually he forms a friendship with the sea monster, almost in secret from his own boss.
Right away the two hit it off, discovering that they share a few similar hobbies and interests. But the two also start to notice that they share the same struggles as well. People pleasing. SpongeBob does it to avoid being alone, while Coraline does it to not be seen as a threat. Unlike SpongeBob, Coraline accepts her loneliness, purposefully avoiding folks and will sometimes deny the sponge’s offers in fear of scaring him off, but because she wants to keep peace, she keeps accepting them.
But SpongeBob is scared. Not because Coraline is scary. He’s afraid of being tricked and disappointing his boss. With Mr. Krabs filling his head with the idea that Plankton is using Coraline to get to him to get to the secret formula, SpongeBob starts to get paranoid. While Coraline on the other hand feels trapped because she has to do what Plankton tells her or else she loses her job. But because she’s honest, she’ll let SpongeBob in on the plans, allowing the two to be one step ahead of their bosses to avoiding any conflict between them. The two then start to make a game out of it, sneaking around and being very tongue in cheek whenever they have to “confront” each other during work hours. But once the two starts to catch feelings for each other, it gets messy really fast.
Coraline believes she’s a mistake. Believes every time SpongeBob is nice to her is out of either pity or as a joke. She wants to avoid him but can’t, SpongeBob is stubborn, but so is she, so it’s a constant push and pull between the two. SpongeBob genuinely enjoys her company. He never met anyone who treated him gently before and he doesn’t want to mess up whatever they have going between them because he’s afraid he won’t find it again.
Skipping forward to them dating. For another analysis post on the whole thing about SpongeBob and dating can be found here!
Neither have any dating experiences. The only time SpongeBob had form “relationships” was with a boat, a spatula and a krabby patty.
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With “Spatula” he had to get a replacement in order to continue his work and the episode is kinda treated like a “cheating” allegory in a way that SpongeBob chose his work before the spatula, later in tears asking “Spatula” for forgiveness. Again we could see this as an internal battle SpongeBob most likely have that he himself worries about being replaced and sorta acts the scenario out. I know this (and the other episodes) is played for laughs, but I’m making this deeper than it should because I like him to have depth dammit!
“Boatie” comes from SpongeBob’s loneliness of everyone leaving town and once again starts to believe the boat has it out for him while he talks to a puppet of Patrick, again most likely acting out a scenario he most likely fears will happen to him one day. I could also go on about the whole “National No Spongebob Day” subplot at the end of that episode, but that would end up being a rant…
Heck even Bubble Buddy plays into this since SpongeBob created him out of loneliness due to all his friends being busy (before it’s revealed that the bubble is alive).
And then there’s “Patty”. He becomes infatuated with a krabby patty and I think the little teasing comments from Squidward about it triggered the attachment into an obsession from SpongeBob. Because if we once again go by the one comment in the episode “The Chaperone” where he never had a date to prom, it’s most likely he never dated in general.
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He wants to feel wanted, but doesn’t know how to get it without it backfiring.
Once getting closer to SpongeBob, Coraline catches on right away that SpongeBob goes to desperate measures to make her happy, which makes her uncomfortable. To her SpongeBob is more mature in her eyes since he has more life experiences than her and she’s the only one who treats him with respect because of it, so once noticing his people pleasing nature, she tries to step in out of concern. Because he doesn’t need to change for her, she already accepts him as is. Which of course throws SpongeBob out of loop because this is what he always does, he has to help others however he can, and he recognizes Coraline’s struggles and wants to help her too. Eventually the pair starts to get frustrated by each other due to this, not realizing that they are both not only forcing themselves out of their comfort zones, but also growing as people from their impact on one another. Causing them both for the first time in their lives to “grow up” and accept being different.
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xechu · 2 days ago
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[Devour] Chapter 2: Yearning
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Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader
Word count: 4.5K
Warnings: please read my blog's rules before interacting. 18+ mdni, angst, eventual smut, hurt/no comfort, explicit sexual content, undertones of misogyny (because the 'olden days'), mature themes, depiction of gore and violence, mentions of pregnancy and abortion. Please note that these warnings pertain to the entire series as a whole, and not just to this specific chapter.
Tags: mini series, angst, smut, Heian Era, true form Sukuna
Summary: Sukuna brings you back to a temple, where he resides. There you also meet Uraume. You begin to doubt if running away was the best idea, but then, Sukuna offers to be your ally. Unbeknownst to you, he has his own ulterior motives for helping you.
A/N: It's here! Not going to lie, I struggled a bit with this chapter. Since this is a mini series, I would say we're already about 35% through the story, things will progress quickly in the upcoming chapters. Based on my planning, I'm looking at about four more chapters. I don't have an exact release date for Chapter 3 like I did with this chapter, but I'll post an update when it's almost complete! If you would like to be added on the tag list for this series, please let me know/leave a comment here. Thank you so much for reading and stay tuned. x
Masterlist: < Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 (To be continued) >
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Sukuna had always deemed love meaningless. It was a feeling that held people back, making them irrational and reckless. Over the years, he had witnessed the greatest kingdoms burn and the strongest men fall, all in the name of 'love.' But the tragedy lay in the fact that, after all was said and done, that love seldom lasted. At the end of the day, people were weak and fickle, rendering love volatile. He often wanted to ask those who sacrificed everything for love: Was it all worth it in the end?
In order to attain his height of power—to become the strongest—Sukuna had given up everything, including his humanity. He had mastered the art of detachment, for attachments only served to tie one down. Letting go of all things was the inevitable cost of power, but it was an easy and insignificant sacrifice for someone like him—who had nothing to lose in the first place.
Yet, despite the King of Curses' strong convictions, there remained one glaring contradiction in his life: you. No matter how hard he tried, he could not detach himself from you. Even after all these years, his burning desire for you was a flame he could not quell, and it only seemed to grow hungrier with time.
Throughout the years, Sukuna had conditioned himself into believing that you were always going to be an unattainable dream—a fantasy that was never meant to become reality. It was better that it remained this way. You deserved to live a peaceful life, and he could continue to live out his days as the King of Curses without restraint.
But what should he do—now that his dream had become reality?
For someone with a wretched life like his, he never believed in any gods. But for the first time in his life, the King of Curses acknowledged that this reunion must have been the universe's divine will—a preordained fate. It seemed that the two of you were destined to be together.
Yes, he thought to himself, since the universe has willed it, then you shall be his exception.
He vowed that as long as he kept you by his side, you would not be a source of his weakness.
At this realization, a dark possessiveness took over him.
This time he would stake his claim.
---
Though you were no longer the little girl Sukuna had once met, he couldn't help but notice how small you were under his hold. Some things didn't change; you were still his little flower.
“It’s me, flower,” he said, urgency creeping into his voice as if he were calling into your subconscious, imploring you to remember.
You trembled in his embrace; the adrenaline coursing through you made it difficult to think straight. His words did not register as you struggled to gather your chaotic thoughts, while your mind screamed at you to run.
You remind me of flowers. The voice suddenly echoed in your mind.
“R-Ryo?” you gasped, finally making the connection.
With shaking hands, you roamed his figure, seeking confirmation in the darkness. Your fingertips softly brushed over his features. Was this a dream? Had you already died? How was it that after all these years, he was finally here—especially in your most dire moment? The surrealness of this situation felt too good to be true.
“I-It really is you,” your voice quivered with emotion. “I-I can't believe it. All this time... I thought I would never see you again."
“I'm here now, flower,” he said, capturing your hand in his. “Come with me; it’s not safe.”
Before you could utter another word, he effortlessly scooped you up, and you instinctively held on to him, tightening your grip, afraid that if you let go he would slip away again.
Sukuna traversed the forest at an inhuman speed. He seemed to know the terrain well, navigating it with ease, but for you, all you saw was unending darkness; the gust of wind threading through your hair was the only sign that you were moving. Your heart raced as he cradled you against his strong body; you could feel the heat radiating from him, evoking a warm and familiar feeling within you—a feeling that you have yearned for so many years.
Moments later, you found yourself in a clearing. Under the clear night sky, vast greenery and towering mountains loomed around you. At the foot of one mountain, a grand tree stood beside an ancient temple. Sukuna gently set you on your feet, and now that you were out in the clearing, you could get a better look at him. Standing before you was no longer the little boy from your memories; he had transformed into a formidable man—perhaps the largest person you had ever seen. He wore an oversized kimono, his bare chest exposed, and his muscular build attested to the life he had lived throughout the years. Your gaze was then drawn to the unmistakable bloodstains on his clothing.
“Are you hurt?” your brows furrowed in concern as your hand ghosted over the stains.
“Nothing worth fretting over; they do not belong to me,” he said, a smile involuntarily curving his lips at the concern you displayed.
Sukuna lifted your chin to meet his gaze. In the moonlight, he could see you with much more clarity.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, a hint of longing evident in his eyes.
Heat rushed to your face at his touch, but you were grateful that the night concealed it.
“How did you know to find me?" you quietly asked.
“The forest and the mountain are my domain,” Sukuna replied, brushing his thumb over your lower lip, as if he was trying to engrave your features into his memory. “You were lucky I found you before something else did.”
Something in your gut told you it couldn't have been mere coincidence, but you decided to keep that thought to yourself. It wasn't the time nor the place for interrogations.
"I see," you smiled wearily. "Thank you... you saved me yet again."
Your words stirred a nostalgic memory within him.
As you continued to stand there in silence, the brave facade you had been putting up began to crumble. All the events that had led you to this moment settled within you, and the feelings you had long suppressed surged to the surface—grief, resentment, confusion, fear, relief, yearning—a tempest you could no longer keep at bay.
“All these years, I’ve been searching for you,” your voice cracked, tears brimming in your eyes.
"I know," he replied, his tone low and hushed.
“Y-You did?"
Sukuna nodded.
"Then why, Ryo? Did you not want to see me?” Your chest tightened at his admission, and tears began to roll down your face.
“It was for the best.” Sukuna's jaw clenched. The sight of you crying evoked a sense of dread within him.
“The best for who?”
A brief silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken words.
“That no longer matters, flower. We're here now, and I won't let you go again,” he said, gently wiping a stray tear from your face.
You knew he was hiding something from you, but that mattered little right now. Your body reacted before your mind, and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.
---
Wooden floors creaked beneath you as you crossed the threshold of the temple, and an inexplicable wave of energy washed over you. It was intense yet comforting, like the warmth of the sun—like him.
The temple was small and modest, but it felt peaceful and comfortable. It was also evident that the wooden interior had been well-maintained despite how ancient it was. The air was filled with the soothing scents of incense and cedarwood.
The earlier conversation with Sukuna loomed over you, leaving so many questions unanswered. While you could still sense a semblance of the little boy within him, he also felt unfamiliar and distant; after all, so much time had passed. You longed to know everything about him, to fill in the gaps, but perhaps that would have to wait.
As you took a closer look around the main hall, your eyes wandered to the beautifully crafted sliding doors at the back, which were fully open to reveal a serene garden that captivated you with its lush greenery and vibrant flowers.
“It’s so beautiful,” you breathed.
Sukuna looked at you under the soft glow of the candlelight illuminating the hall, and your heart began to race under his gaze amid the intimacy of the setting. He watched you intently as if he could hear the intense beating of your heart—
“Sukuna-sama, you’re back,” a gentle voice cut through the air.
You turned to find a young person standing there. Their gender was ambiguous, but their appearance reminded you of winter's first snowfall. They exuded a calm and serene presence.
“Uraume,” Sukuna acknowledged, gesturing toward you. “She is with me. Draw her a bath and prepare some fresh clothes. I’ll get a fire started.”
“Yes, Sukuna-sama,” Uraume replied, hastily leaving for the back of the temple.
You watched as Sukuna stripped off his kimono, revealing his muscular upper body adorned with tattoos.
“Ryo, where are you going?” you asked, trying to mask the fluster in your voice.
Sukuna turned back to look at you with a smile. “I’m going to hunt some game. We’ll fill our stomachs before going to bed.”
---
The warmth of the hot spring quickly melted away the stress of the day. You still could not wrap your head around the uncanny turn of events; it felt like a nightmare turned dream. Instead of being married to Lord Yamamoto, you were now reunited with the one person who had always occupied your thoughts. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you reached for a washcloth to gently remove your makeup. You knew that there would be other matters to address later, but for now, you wanted to savor this brief respite.
Sinking the lower half of your head into the water, you blew small bubbles, and images of Sukuna and the man he had become flashed in your mind, sending a warmth throughout your body.
Sukuna's renown had been spreading in recent years, and you were acutely aware of his reputation. Whispers surrounded him, calling him the King of Curses—the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of the era. There was much debate over whether he was merely a man or a deity, while others believed him to be a demon in disguise. Your village, having a strong aversion to jujutsu sorcery, viewed it as more of a curse than a gift and seemed to believe he was nothing short of a demon.
Regardless, you had only ever known him as Ryo, so you never gave much thought to the rumors. Man, deity, or demon—whatever he was, you would have accepted him unconditionally. Despite the time apart, you still felt an inexplicable tether to him.
I won't let you go again.
Those words stirred an emotion within you when he had initially spoken them, but doubts and hesitation lingered in your mind. Had it not been for your current predicament, you would have been more inclined to stay with him.
You held your breath and submerged yourself entirely beneath the warm water, hoping to silence these chaotic thoughts—even if just for a moment.
---
Feeling refreshed as you stepped out of the temple in a new set of clothes, you noticed that a fire had already been started and that Uraume was preparing some vegetables.
“Uraume-san,” you smiled as you walked over, “is there anything I can help you with?”
“Y/N-san,” Uraume exclaimed, a gentle light in their eyes. “All the preparations are nearly complete. Why don’t you sit by the fire first? Sukuna-sama should be back soon.”
You hesitated and looked to see if there was still anything to help with, but noticing how there was not much else, you acquiesced and made your way to the fire. You watched in awe as Uraume skillfully finished the last touches of their work. Soon after, they settled down beside you. It was a comfortable silence between the two of you, accompanied by the crackling of the fire.
“Have you and Ryo always lived here?” you tried to make conversation.
Uraume nodded, their expression thoughtful. “We’ve lived here for quite some time. I owe him my life.”
You looked at Uraume, curiosity piqued.
“I was at death’s door when he found me as a child,” Uraume confessed softly. “He took me under his wing.”
“He’s always been kind.” You smiled contemplatively.
“Yes,” Uraume agreed. There was a brief pause. “He…has also mentioned you before.”
“He has?”
Uraume nodded. “He said there was once a girl he met who lived in a village not too far from here. She was as kind as she was beautiful, and she reminded him of flowers. When I saw you, I knew you were that girl.”
It warmed your heart to know that he had spoken about you, but it also felt bittersweet.
“Ah, he’s back,” Uraume remarked, glancing behind you.
Your eyes widened at the spectacular sight before you. Sukuna had a deer slung over his shoulder, effortlessly making his way toward the two of you; he trekked as if the deer weighed nothing.
Sukuna dropped the deer by the fire, and Uraume instinctively got up, ready to prepare the meat. You watched as Sukuna slashed the deer's throat, collecting the blood in a bowl. A wave of queasiness washed over you, and you looked away, unable to face the brutal sight. Sukuna settled down beside you while Uraume got to work, efficiently cutting up the rest of the deer.
“Drink every last drop,” he commanded, handing the bowl to you.
“I—I don't think I can,” you put your hand out in defense, the metallic stench making your stomach churn.
“You are malnourished,” he said, grabbing your wrist to examine its size. “Have you not been looking after yourself?”
“I have,” you insisted, attempting to wiggle your wrist free from his grasp. His touch felt searing against your skin.
“You will drink this, unless you would like me to feed you,” Sukuna insisted, handing you the bowl once more, the intensity in his eyes leaving no room for argument.
You took the bowl in both hands, trembling slightly. As you watched the thick red liquid swirl inside, you held your breath and brought it to your lips, tilting it ever so slightly and allowing the liquid to slip into your mouth and down your throat. Just as you were about to lower the bowl, Sukuna's hand clasped over yours, tilting the bowl upward to ensure you finished everything.
“That’s it, flower—every last drop,” he said, his voice low and steady. When he was satisfied that you had consumed all of it, he released his grip and took the bowl from your hands. You gagged at the aftertaste, coughing as a trickle of blood ran down your chin. Sukuna's eyes grew dark at the sight; he wiped the blood from your chin with his thumb, then licked it clean.
“Ryo—!” you gasped, teary-eyed. “N-no more of that, please.”
“That will depend on how well you eat,” a hint of playfulness threaded through his voice.
“Do you drink this too?” you asked, clearing your throat.
"Of course, the blood of a deer is a highly nutritious delicacy. Did you know in some places, it is a drink shared by a married couple on their wedding night?" Sukuna smirked.
You shudder at the thought. This blood drinking experience was something that you hoped would be your first and last. But the slight implication that Sukuna made at the end also made you a bit shy.
Uraume handed a plate of skewered meat to Sukuna, and you marveled at how quickly they had prepared it. You watched as Sukuna stabbed each skewer into the ground by the fire, your attention lingering on the flames that seemed to beckon you.
"I should have whisked you away from the village earlier, had I known you were not being fed properly." Sukuna intently watched you with one of his eyes, sensing your tension.
"Well, why didn't you?" you muttered. The words escaped your mouth before you could stop it.
You were sure he had his reasons for staying away, yet you couldn’t hide your disappointment in him for keeping his distance. So much precious time had been lost, and so many what-ifs lingered in your mind.
It was juvenile, but you often dreamt of how the two of you would grow up together—an inseparable duo, the best of friends. Then, when you came of age, he would have asked you to follow him, and you would have gladly followed him anywhere. The two of you would travel all over the land, experiencing the world side by side. Perhaps, somewhere along the way, he would have asked you to marry him, and you would have said 'yes' without skipping a beat—
"Come now, don't sulk, flower," Sukuna said, breaking you out of your thoughts. "You're here now. We will make up for lost time."
"You speak as if I'm going to be staying here for good," you couldn't help but challenge him a little.
It might have been your imagination, but you thought his expression darkened for a split second.
"It sounds like you have somewhere to go then."
"I—well, I didn’t have too much time to think details. But I planned to make my way to a far out village, where no one will be able to find me."
"That would be difficult," Sukuna hummed.
"It’s worth a try… better than yielding to the fate I was subjugated to." You hugged your knees.
"Enlighten me, what was someone’s bride doing in the middle of the forest?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
There was a hesitation in telling him about your plight, but you knew it was also an unavoidable topic—after all, he had saved you, so an explanation was due at the very least.
“I ran away… from a marriage I wanted no part of.”
“How bold,” he chuckled. “It’s very like you.”
“It’s hardly a laughing matter, Ryo,” you huffed, anxiety evident in your voice.
“But you've successfully escaped. Should this not be a cause to celebrate?” he cocked an eyebrow.
“I don't know if I would consider it successful just yet," you narrowed your eyes. "I didn’t just run away from any man; I ran away from a lord. My village hoped to leverage my marriage with Lord Yamamoto for aid. There will be repercussions for my actions.”
Sukuna listened as he rotated the skewers.
"Hm, I suppose that is quite the predicament. Whatever shall you do then?" His question came out more like a taunt than a show of concern.
"Are you mocking my situation?" You frowned, your expression dropping as self-doubt crept in. You had to admit that you'd been reckless with your decision, and you didn't exactly have a reliable plan. You wouldn’t have even made it out of the forest had it not been for Sukuna.
“Of course not. Don't look so defeated," he softly tsked, smoothing the crease between your brows with his fingers.
You looked at him with a mixture of surprise and hesitation.
"Is there any reason for you to worry if I am going to be by your side?" he returned your gaze, a burning confidence in his eyes.
“It’s not so simple, Ryo. I don’t want you to be caught in my problems—”
“A mere lord and your measly village is not a problem,” Sukuna replied, passing a skewer to you.
You reluctantly accepted the skewer, your fingers momentarily brushing against his hand during the exchange. As divine as the meat smelled, you couldn't bring yourself to eat; your worries and anxiety loomed large over your head.
"It's not going to eat itself if you keep staring at it," Sukuna sighed, crossing his four arms and giving you a stern look.
Taking a tiny bite, your eyes momentarily lit up. It tasted even better than it smelled. Before you knew it, you had devoured the entire skewer, and Sukuna was already handing you another one. Perhaps you were hungrier than you had thought, but his pleased expression did not escape you—he cared, and that alone filled you with immense happiness.
"Do you not wish to stay here?" he asked, breaking the silence.
"It's not about what I want," you shook your head. "What if something happens to both of you because of me?"
"You needn't worry about us, Y/N-san; we are more than capable of dealing with Lord Yamamoto," Uraume smiled at you. Their gentle reassurance only seemed to amplify your guilt.
"We can't be sure of that—"
“Are you not aware of what they call me?”
You sighed, a sense of apprehension filling your chest. "I am..."
“Then if you know my reputation, you should understand that even if Lord Yamamoto and his entire arsenal, along with your village, were to descend upon us right now, they would not stand a chance.”
Sukuna seemed adamant about helping, but that only served to heighten your uneasiness. It wasn't that you doubted his capabilities; but you also understood that your actions would have dire consequences. A runaway bride of Lord Yamamoto wasn't a matter that would be overlooked so easily. Surely, the four men who had escorted you had reported back to their lord that you had escaped. Even if Sukuna could easily deal with them, he would be branded a criminal—forever having to be on the run. He had endured enough hardships in his life, and it felt like you were only adding to his strife. You didn't deserve this kindness from him; his life was fine before you came along.
"This will be your home. You will be safe as long as you stay by my side. So stay here, Y/N.” An unexpected possessiveness laced Sukuna's voice.
You looked up at Sukuna in surprise; you had never heard him call your name before. His eyes silently pleaded with you to stay—shattering your resolve.
"Tell me you need my help, flower," Sukuna urged, looking into your eyes with an intensity that made your breath hitch.
A lingering silence filled the air, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the rhythm of your heartbeat.
"Help me, Ryo…" you finally said.
---
You hadn't felt so full in a long time. Sukuna had ensured you ate your share of food before retiring to bed. Following behind him, you were led to your sleeping accommodations, and to your surprise, he took you into his chamber, which overlooked a small private garden and hot spring.
The temple was modest in size, containing only two bedrooms. It didn’t feel right to intrude on Uraume's private quarters, especially since it was Sukuna's decision to keep you, but he also couldn’t deny he had other intentions.
Before crawling into bed, you turned to meet Sukuna's gaze.
“Ryo… I don’t know how I could ever repay you. If there's anything I can do for you, you must tell me," you said earnestly.
“Hmm,” he paused, feigning contemplation.
You looked at him eagerly, trying to anticipate what he could ask for.
"Anything?" he drawled, rubbing his chin.
You nodded.
“Alright," he smirked, "swear yourself to me.”
Your eyes widened. You weren’t exactly sure what that entailed, but you trusted him implicitly. He most likely needed an extra hand with taking care of the temple and doing some extra work around here.
“A-are you sure that’s all you want? That hardly seems adequate, I am troubling you after all.” You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeves.
"You undermine yourself, flower."
“Oh, well, I do have many skills I could offer, and I promise to be useful around here. I’m quite knowledgeable about plants, herbs, and flowers. I may not be as good a cook as Uraume, but—”
"Staying by my side is enough," he interjected.
There was a sincerity in his voice that was new to you, making your heart do flips inside your chest.
"Ryo..." you spoke quietly, clasping your hands tightly. "I might misunderstand if you're so kind to me."
Oh, what a delight you were. Sukuna felt an intense urge to smother you.
“Well, what if I wanted more than just your domestic skills?” he asked lowly, taking a lock of your hair into his hands.
Your heart raced, and suddenly the room felt hot as you understood his implications.
“Is that… what you truly desire?"
"And if it is?"
There was a brief pause.
Just this morning, you were still in utter despair, wholly expecting to be wedded to a monster. But now, in this moment, it was not Lord Yamamoto before you, but rather the man of your dreams—the only man you had wished to marry. He had long claimed your mind and heart; what more was your body?
"Then take me," your voice was barely above a whisper.
Sukuna’s eyes darkened, but why did he feel so disappointed by your response? It almost rolled off your tongue too easily.
"You would just give yourself to any man, so long as they ask?"
"N-no, you misunderstand!"
Sukuna remained silent, the look in his eyes demanding you to elaborate.
"If that were true, I wouldn’t have ran away from Lord Yamamoto. You're not just any man to me, Ryo. I—" love you. The heat crept up to your ears.
Your timid confession sent a chilling thrill through his body, awakening a primal hunger within him, he could no longer resist.
“Do you truly wish to be mine?” he asked, tucking your hair behind your ear. You felt dizzy under his touch and gaze.
"Yes..."
"Look at me and say it." He hissed.
"I'm yours, Ryo. I want to be yours." You met his eyes and gently took his hand, placing it over your heart, hoping he could feel how violently it was beating against your chest.
“You didn’t need to ask me to swear myself to you; I would have gladly followed you anywhere. I've felt that way ever since we were children.”
Sukuna was rarely caught off guard. The first time he recalled was when you approached him as a child, and the second was this very moment. You had just confessed your feelings for him and expressed a desire to stay with him of your own volition. Nobody else had ever been able to elicit these feelings from him, and the dominion you unknowingly held over him was both terrifying and thrilling.
"Then I will take you, flower—your heart, body, and soul."
Without sparing another moment, he wrapped his hand behind your head and crushed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. The world around you fell silent.
For once, it felt as if the universe had smiled upon his wretched life.
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Writing © xechu - please do not redistribute, translate, or repost any of my works.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the pictures used for the banner.
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Taglist: @paradisestarfishh @ssetsuka
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sunnysidesevenup · 1 day ago
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some Tilly rambling and analysis, since I somehow ramble more about him in DM’s than where anyone else can see it 😭
tagging!! @jadelover69 @kirexa @lallopsyou @jovieinramshackle @b0njourbeach
Tilly, first and foremost, is a liar and a performer, so most of his motivations are usually unclear and misrepresented on purpose. This is true for a lot of stuff—he tends to present himself as a lot shallower than he actually is. He’s actually a pretty deeply caring person, but he doesn’t want anyone to be aware of that basically ever.
For example! When he first met Fellow he actually disliked him. The scam Fellow first attempted to pull on him was one that tends to target vulnerable people, so he automatically assumed that was specifically who he was targeting. Tilly dislikes things like that, which is why he takes money from people who can afford to lose it. This is why he immediately throws it back in his face and gets him in trouble.
In general, for the first three months he harasses Fellow, it’s because he’s actually worried about Gidel. In his experience, adults tend to use, hurt, and abandon kids when it becomes inconvenient to take care of them. He doesn’t initially believe Fellow is genuinely able to care for Gidel, and his “jokes” about “stealing” him are completely serious at first. All his bribes to Gidel of food and toys and whatever else are Tilly’s way of attempting to say “I’d take care of you if this guy doesn’t”.
Tilly in general is very protective of anyone he views as in a similar situation to him. It’s why he lets people pickpocket him and pretends not to notice, it’s why he gives food up to people sometimes, it’s why he will happily hand over a jacket to any struggling kid. When he was a kid he actually started giving some of his food to the street cats and dogs, even when he couldn’t afford to (and it was pretty common for a teenager Tilly to be seen laying in an alleyway covered in cats lol).
This isn’t to say that he’s a good person, because he very much does not think so. His protective nature extends to people he thinks deserves it, and he doesn’t care what happens to anyone who doesn’t meet that criteria. For a while, Fellow wasn’t included, which is why bothering him was him being an actual nuisance and not just harmless pranks. The “enemies to lovers” part of their dynamic is NOT one sided. Tilly disliked Fellow just as much as Fellow disliked him in the beginning, if not more.
Tilly does not dream of any sort of fantastical life. He doesn’t desire to be rich, or to achieve any amount of success, or to have some sort of grand experience. His only dreams are that one day he will not have to fight to survive, but he views that very much as a dream. His only goal that he views as “realistic” is to have fun sometimes. This is directly opposed to Fellow who consistently dreams of a better life and tries his hardest to make it a reality. They are both opposite ends on a spectrum: Tilly who desires nothing and so frequently accidentally sabotages himself, vs Fellow who desires things so much that he sometimes goes too far in trying to get them.
Their argument about Playful Land is a lot deeper than initially assumed, as well!! For one, Tilly is actually VERY ANGRY at Fellow’s actions. Not only is he sometimes hurting people Tilly views as undeserving of it, but he’s working for someone who Tilly personally despises on principal. It’s like a slap in the face—a betrayal of the mutual trust they’d managed to build. He doesn’t say any of this, though, instead presenting his disapproval as him thinking Fellow and Gidel are “better than that”, and the argument suddenly becomes about Tilly and Fellow’s opposing views on life rather than what he’s actually upset about.
Even when Fellow tells him that he’s “too much effort to take care of”, the reason Tilly leaves is not because the words hurt, but because he thinks they’re RIGHT. At the end of the day, he doesn’t want to cause trouble for Fellow at all—he doesn’t want to make his or Gidel’s life harder. He would have stayed (even with all his personal feelings towards the entire Playful Land scheme) if Fellow hadn’t said that specifically.
Even when they make up, Tilly still doesn’t ever talk about how much the argument actually hurt him. Instead, Fellow ends up piecing it together from multiple conversations and incidents and reveals of Tilly’s past, and then apologizes to him himself. The apology doesn’t really go the way he wants, because Tilly has an unhealthy mindset of “no matter what you say/do to me I’ll stay around as long as you want me”, but it’s a start.
Tilly is just a very, very lonely and desperate person. His first taste of a human connection that might be genuine makes him feel like he’s starving, and he doesn’t ever want to let it go. Fellow has to communicate to him a LOT that there’s certain things he’d never ask him to do, that he shouldn’t ever accept from ANYONE, that he shouldn’t endanger himself to make money for them, that he doesn’t owe him anything… it’s a very long process. They are both very broken people who have endured very hard lives, and neither of them are navigating it well.
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earthlyruins · 8 months ago
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seeing people mischaracterize sanji will forever boil my blood but seeing people mischaracterize LUFFY and say that he only has sanji on his crew because he can cook actually has me wanting to kill someone HOW can you be that stupid. no genuinely how
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archivedcoach · 2 years ago
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beard being a pessimist but so deeply wanting to be an optimist......yeah.
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kindacreepy-kindaugly · 10 months ago
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haven't been sad like this in a long time
#doll#did i get lovebombed again#it's been ages since he last even tried that w/ me...#but. the more i think abt it the more it makes sense.#the others were suspicious from the start but we couldn't figure out what the ulterior motive could possibly be#cause it was so out of character for him. suddenly wantin to make us more official when he'll usually avoid any trace of actual commitment#i guess he knows i dream about a more....traditional relationship. exclusive for both instead of just one way.#white picket fence etc#so it was easy to spin it into that when rly he just wanted to stake his claim in a more visible way#(not a proposal just a promise ring type of thing on a necklace so i thought it was him tryin to compromise)#so now i just feel stupid cause i bought into all the stuff he said. bout the way he wants this to be forever.#when it rly was just another way to mark me.#i'd be fine w/ it if he just said that's what he wants! he knows i don't mind wearin his name or w/e even though i don't rly get it#but tryin to mask it as smth else that he knows i want but would never ask for cause he doesn't do that stuff#it's not ok#everything he does we deal w/ as it comes but. not the fucking mind games again. he can't/doesn't wanna force me to do things (anymore)#so now he's tryin to trick me into em instead?#i don't feel like i can trust anything he's said now#n if i try to have an actual adult conversation about it he's just gonna talk circles around me til i'm dizzy again#i was rly startin to trust him. i don't understand. what happened?#did i do something? have i been so flaky he feels he needs to do this stuff to keep me in check?#he just told me that he's happy if i even just drop by for a little while but. i'm not sure i believe that now either.#i mean i shoulda realized cause it'd only affect me anyway. i don't think he even mentioned wearing one himself.#i've been so happy ring shopping for days n now i just feel sick. messing w/ consent is a whole Thing for him so#chances are he wanted to keep me content w/ an empty show of commitment while he gets off on what it really means#i shoulda known it was too sudden n came out too easy for him. he never talks about feelings stuff so easily it's always a struggle#i think it's all bc he's afraid of losin me but....i rly thought we were past this stuff. i rly thought i could trust him now.#i'm just rly rly upset n sad n disappointed#spdrvent
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xythlia · 1 year ago
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› it won't fit bf vs I'll make it fit gf
𓏲 ࣪₊ mdni. size kink. riding him like your life depends on it. begging. crying. f!reader
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it's not that nanami doesn't know how big he is but he doesn't really know until he watches your body struggle to take even just the tip of his perfect cock.
he always fills you up so well, stretching your pussy to accommodate his girth and it makes you feel like he must be all the way in your tummy even though he's barely halfway in. but he's also the type that would never, ever do anything to hurt you. when he's got you on your back, your legs spread and your arms laced around the back of his neck, and he hears you choke on your sharp gasp as he slowly presses into you it forces him to pause.
when you plead with him it makes his brows furrow, unwilling to potentially force your body to take all of him so he'll simply tell you in a low, matter of fact murmur that he just won't fit. he'd never push you, never make you take more than you're capable of and he's happy to satisfy you in any other way under the sun.
and while you adore how sweet he is, how painfully considerate of your limitations, he doesn't know just how badly you ache for him. so you take matters into your own hands, sweetly maneuvering him on his back as you start straddling him. your lips are quick to stifle his concerns, cutting off his words of caution as your tongue slides against his and you line him up with your soaked cunt.
as you sink down on him he knows he should stop you, with his hands gently caressing your sides to steady you and his eyes fixed on the way your mouth drops open and the way your eyes get teary feeling every inch of him. he's about to as he sees your bottom lip start wobbling... until you start moving.
even while your hands splay against his chest, fingernails scraping his skin, as you moan and whine about how big he is, how you can't handle it, you're still taking him in deeper with every rise of your hips and bounce of your ass against him. nanami knows he should stop you, at least get you on your back again so he's the one in charge of how much you're taking, but he just can't bring himself to. it's mesmerizing, the most heart stoppingly attractive thing to grace his field of vision in all his life.
feeling the way your warm walls throb around him, how incredible it feels every time you slide back down to bottom out and split yourself fully on his cock makes him feel dangerously close to delirium. his hands cup your ass, his fingers dig into the plush fat, urging your movements to take on a more frantic pace and you're mewling, pleading for him to give you more, more, more.
when he pulls you down against him in a harsh grip, hips slamming up to recklessly give you just what you asked for he tastes the tang of saltwater in your kiss. tucking your face against his neck to stifle your sobs for him to go faster, harder he loses himself fully in the feeling of your pussy clamping down on him, the way your body's doing everything in its power to milk him for all he's worth.
he almost can't believe he's been so stubborn, trying to tell you your own limits when clearly you know yourself far better.
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rafecameronssl4t · 5 months ago
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My say || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: an argument between reader and rafe about having a nanny for your son.
Warnings: heavy angst!!! Mentions of breastfeeding
Word count: 1,283
A/n: I hope this kinda gvives you a better insight of what reader x rafe's relationship is like!! I AM SO EXCITED TO CONTINUE WRITING FOR THIS AU!!! send thru any requests you might have :)
MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)
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divider by @h-aewo
“Y/n, you can’t be serious,” Rafe says, his voice laced with disbelief as he stares at you, searching your face for any sign that you might be joking. But your expression remains unyielding, eyes steady as you readjust Leo in your arms, his small hands clutching at you as he feeds. “I’m serious,” you say, your tone casual as you shrug, though the gravity of your words lingers heavily between you.
The tension in the room is palpable. Rafe scoffs, a bitter sound escaping his lips as he shakes his head in disbelief. Without another word, he pushes himself up from the couch, his movements stiff with frustration. He crosses the room with purposeful strides, heading straight for the bar cart. The clink of the whisky bottle against the glass is sharp in the silence, followed by the harsh slam of the glass hitting the cart, the sound echoing through the stillness of the room.
“He hasn’t even turned one yet, and you’re already considering leaving him in the care of someone we don’t even know?” Rafe’s voice is strained with disbelief, his eyes narrowing as he struggles to grasp your logic. . “What is this really about? You want more time for yourself? To get your hair and nails done, meet up with your friends, take boat rides?” His voice is laced with incredulity, each word carrying a mix of accusation and frustration as if he can’t believe you would even consider such a thing.
“You want to hand him over to a stranger—someone who doesn’t know his little habits, his cries, the way he needs to be held to fall asleep?” Rafe’s words tumble out in a rush, his voice thick with a blend of incredulity and concern. It’s as if he can’t even comprehend how you could entertain the idea, the very thought seeming impossible to him.
You let out a soft, disbelieving snort, shaking your head. “And you do, Rafe? You think you know him better than anyone else?” Your voice drips with sarcasm as you meet his gaze, your eyes daring him to challenge you. “When was the last time you were the one pacing the floor at 3 in the morning, trying to calm him down? When have you spent hours figuring out his cries, trying to understand what he needs?”
Rafe stares at you, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. “You’re his mother—” But before he can finish, you cut him off, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. “And I’m trying, Rafe! I’m trying so hard, but it never feels like enough. I can’t seem to get it right, no matter what I do.” Your voice cracks as the weight of your words hangs between you, the raw vulnerability in your tone cutting through the tension like a knife.
“I’m 21, for heaven’s sake!” you exclaim, your frustration boiling over. “I’m still figuring this out, and every day feels like a battle. I’m doing my best, but it’s like I’m constantly failing.” The words spill out in a rush, your voice wavering with the pressure of trying to live up to expectations that feel impossible to meet.
Rafe’s eyes narrow as he leans forward, his voice biting, “Don’t sit there and pretend you weren’t raised for this,” Rafe says, his voice cold and cutting. “You knew from the moment your parents arranged this marriage that your role was to be a mother. They didn’t raise you to chase dreams or find yourself—they raised you to bear children, to fulfill your duty as a wife. So don’t act like this is some surprise or burden you weren’t prepared for.”
You feel a sharp pang in your chest as Rafe’s harsh words sink in, his coldness taking you by surprise. For a moment, you’re too stunned to respond, the sting of his accusation cutting deeper than you expected. You roll your eyes, more out of defense than annoyance, trying to push the hurt aside. Exhaling slowly, you steady yourself, refusing to let him see how much his words have affected you.
“Leo will have a nanny,” you say, your voice firmer than you feel. “This isn’t up for debate.” The words come out with a finality that leaves no room for argument, though the hurt lingers beneath your resolve. “End of conversation.” Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose, his frustration boiling over into raw anger.
“No, he will not!” he snaps, his voice sharp and intense. “I won’t have a stranger looking after our son—my son!” His words are a burst of anger, his eyes blazing as he struggles to contain the fury coursing through him. You roll your eyes again, your patience wearing thin as Rafe's anger fuels your own frustration.
“You’re being dramatic, Rafe,” you retort, trying to keep your tone steady despite your mounting irritation. “In my family, we all had nannies before we were even four months old—” But before you can finish, Rafe’s voice rises in a harsh yell that slices through your words. “This is our family, Y/N!” he shouts, his frustration exploding into full-blown anger.
“Our family! Not just yours. We don’t have to raise our children the way your parents did!” His voice echoes with the force of his rage, the intensity of his glare adding to the weight of his outburst. His voice reverberates off the walls, filling the room with a palpable tension as Leo starts to fuss.
His soft whimpers quickly escalate into full-blown cries, the sound piercing through the charged atmosphere. You flinch at the noise, your heart tightening with a mix of anger and frustration. “Will you lower your voice?” you snap, your own frustration surfacing as you hastily adjust your top, trying to soothe Leo by bouncing him gently in your arms.
Rafe runs a hand through his buzz cut, letting out a loud, exasperated sigh. His shoulders are tense as he plants his hands on his hips, watching you with a mixture of frustration and disbelief while you struggle to soothe Leo. “Look what you’ve done,” you say sharply, your voice cracking with frustration as you glare at him. “He was perfectly calm before you started yelling.”
Rafe’s eyes flash with irritation as he retorts, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, blame it all on me,” he snaps, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He turns and heads towards the door, clearly ready to escape the charged atmosphere. As he walks past you, you reach out and grip his arm, the strength in your hold betraying your desperation.
He stops and looks down at you, his expression softening slightly as he registers the plea in your eyes. “Please, just don’t argue with me right now,” you say, your voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “Leo will be better off with someone who knows what they’re doing.” The earnestness in your plea hangs heavy in the air, cutting through the tension.
Rafe takes a deep breath, the anger in his eyes giving way to a more contemplative look. “I get to choose who the nanny is,” he says, his voice still firm but less harsh. You nod slowly, a quiet resignation in your expression as you release his arm, allowing him to leave.
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velvetcrimsonkisses · 6 months ago
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Blind Gojo adjusting to his new life…
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The fight against Sukuna took a lot from everybody. With everyone making sacrifices, it was only right Satoru did too. He wanted to win, he was the strongest right? He had to win, no matter what. Losing the six eyes was just the mere cost of winning the battle. It was worth it right?
Satoru believed he didn’t deserve to live, but he had too now for everyone who died. Ultimately, deciding to now live his life as Satoru Gojo and not "the strongest” anymore. Losing the six eyes initially lead to frustration and anger, as he tried to adjust to being blind. He felt useless for a while, not being as efficient as he was. But over time, this loss lead to his personal growth. Gojo developed a deeper sense of humility and empathy for others, finally understanding the struggles of those who are not as gifted as he once was.
It wasn’t until he met you that he started to feel a sense of normalcy. And here he was at almost 30 learning how to live as a human for the first time. You taught him what true genuine love was and you patiently taught him how to reciprocate it back to you. He learned how to express his feelings to you instead of bottling them up inside. You created a safe space for him where he could unveil the true side of himself. Trust and intimacy forming between you two. Both of you navigating the complexities of loving each other.
He also didn’t know exactly what you looked like, not that he cared. His other senses were still in top shape and keen allies to him. That’s why his hands are always on you, he could feel you. Feeling the warmth of your body against his fingertips, large cold hands always coming to your face. He liked tracing your bone structure with the pads of his fingers, caressing your cheeks, and especially savoring your lips against his own. With each caress, he discovered new assets of your beauty, not defined by your visual appearance but by the sensations that awakened within him.
He could also smell your scent. He knows when you walk into a room when the sweetness of your perfume fills his nostrils, causing it to twitch like a bunny. He buries his nose into your hair because he loves the fresh fragrance of your shampoo. He loves when you bake him all his favorite sweets, the aroma of brown sugar lingering on you makes you smell even sweeter.
The sound of your voice. Satoru could never get tired of it. For once in his life, Satoru found himself not being the talkative one in a relationship. He cherished all the words that would leave your lips, each word a symphony to his ears. In the mornings Satoru would always lay in bed until you woke up waiting for the sound of your voice to be the first thing he heard each day.
All these aspects combined Satoru knew he was finally living the life he finally dreamed of. Every touch, every word, every moment was filling his deepest desires. In your presence, he found the reason why he deserved to live. He found peace and joy, a sense of completeness that he had long yearned for all in one person.
Even though he couldn't see anymore he felt things he didn’t before. He made up his mind that he didn't want to waste any more time. Satoru was now certain that his blindness didn’t stop his ability to love or to commit fully to you and he was more than grateful that you showed him that. It wasn’t long before you both decided to marry.
“She’s perfect…” you utter softly, handing the baby gently into an anxious Satoru’s arms. He cradles the baby just like you taught him, careful to not get too excited and accidentally hurt her. The baby babbles as she feels the comforting warmth of her father.
“The little sounds she makes are my favorite thing to hear,” he says, poking the baby’s cheek. “Describe her again to me, will you?” Satoru looks up from the baby, trying to decipher where you were.
You walk over to join him on the couch. “Of course, she has your beautiful blue eyes…” You noticed Satoru smiling, still holding his daughter close to him. “And your white hair…” you continue, Satoru’s finger coming up to her head, feeling the softness in her hair.
You describe every detail you could about the little baby to Satoru. You tell him about how her eyes seem to gaze into his soul full of love, and the way her tiny nose wrinkles when she sleeps just like his. A lone tear falls down Satoru's face, filled with heartache knowing that he will never be able to see her with his own eyes.
In that vulnerable moment, you hold Satoru close, letting him know that you were there. He smiles at you as he feels your touch, sniffling. There was determination in Satoru’s eyes. He was going to cherish every moment with his family.
"I'll be there for both of you," Satoru whispers, his voice filled with quiet resolve. His words carry a promise.
Thank you @suguwife for this lovely idea and the discord server as well!
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rinnstars · 2 months ago
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jealousy jealousy!
when hes just a little (very) jealous of someone else
bllk boys (nagi, rin, reo) x reader: insecurities, fluff!!!!!!!, established r/s except for rin (but you two get into one by the end!), nagis part was deleted and rewritten TT, not proof read + likes n reblog r appreciated <3
nagi seishiro:
“eh… you cleared this level already…? i thought you were struggling with it..?” nagi’s voice muffled against the pile of blankets his face was smushed in, looking up at you confusedly from your phone, displaying the game level cleared.
its not that he doesnt believe you cleared it all by yourself, if anything youre pretty good at this game despite only playing it for him. its simply because you were complaining on call with him about it, and all of the sudden youve finished it? he doesnt quite believe it, hes gone through that level too and he knows its pretty challenging, taking a little more energy than it really should have even for nagi himself.
“ah.. my seatmate cleared it for me this morning when he saw me playing it!” its strange: your bright voice always wakes him up a little, bringing light into his otherwise dull and boring life. yet this time, he feels his heart pang a little.
its troublesome. he doesnt like feeling this way: his heart tightens at your words, he unconsciously grips your phone a little, only realising when the screen protector cuts him a little, and he feels as though hes getting all fired up strangely the same way he gets on the field. if anything, nagi doesnt even know who this mysterious seat partner is, and he sure doesnt want to know: its troublesome to socialise with others after all. and yet, if there’s anything he’s now set on doing as though his life depends on it, as though your relationship with him depends on it, as though his ego depends completely on this: he wants to confront this guy and challenge him in an actual game competition. he knows he’ll win, he has spent his entire life in bed playing mobile game or spending late hours of the night on grinding back to immortal on different variety of games from valorant to league of legends to overwatch. he’s covered his grounds he thinks, that maybe all those time wasn’t wasted at all other than the fact that you weren’t with him during those time: lending him your lap to lie down on when he plays his switch or phone, lending him your support when you sit on his lap on his chair squirming to keep it a challenge to win and carry his team still, even more lending him your accounts when he plays with you, helping carry you in any game you want or even just building your islands together on animal crossing or minecraft on more chill days.
nagi doesn’t get it - really, its the same ego that drives him in football, not wanting to lose. his eyes flicker with sudden fire and intensity that only burns whenever he plays games with you: whether that be when you die in a pvp game and him immediately straightening his back to avenge you, earning aces for rounds straight until the screen flashes with victory, or when someone talks bad about you in the voice channel and is immediately reacted with nagi’s voice that defends your honour as if he’s your knight in shining armour, or even simply the way his hands click on the mouse quickly whenever he sees a zombie go near you in the dark cave whilst playing something as chill as minecraft. if anything, nagi think it might just apply to real life too: his hands tugging at yours as though on instinct in record speed when you trip on another branch to prevent you from falling, his glare at others whenever they bother you too much that is visible through the awkward smile you give and your hands finding its way to fiddle with his shirt.
and the same ego is clear to him now: he doesn’t want anyone else to be yours, he wants to be the only one to help you. selfish maybe, but he’ll deliver - the way he tracks your figure in the map from valorant to minecraft to even genshin, the way he fights to protect you from the enemies, his hands animatedly clicking at his mouse and the other navigating his keyboard all at the same time in order to garner the best and most successful result that he knows will get you to smile oh so brightly that makes his heart pound, or even the way he charges his old switch just to help you play animal crossing on his own account, maintaining your village and neglecting his all to make a cute little house for you inspired by your pinterest board even though it takes him all night.
and to you, its clear: he’s upset at what you’ve done with the way he deflates even more than he already is. and it clicks. a routine and cycle you’ve unintentionally broken - you complaining about a level or rank you can’t get out of, he’ll listen and ask you about it the next day when youre back at his house, and he’ll fix it just as he always down: an unspoken agreement really.
“sorry sei… i still can’t clear the next level.. help me seiiii…” and suddenly he’s back lying right on your pillowy thighs: the way his eyes that was just seconds ago filled with intensity that you think simply doesn’t fit his face closes with comfort as you massage his scalp again with his fingers, the way his face smushes against your thighs comfortably rather than the weird feeling of him hovering on your thigh as though he wanted to get up, the way his hands no longer grip your phone tightly and instead holds your hand, fitting it right in perfectly.
“kay… its not bothersome with you..” he says, a confession of love from himself. he’ll never find it annoying if its you: he thinks he would play the dinosaur game from having no internet for hours on end if you liked watching him play it, he thinks he’d fight against the same boss for even days straight if you said you needed the materials for it for your character, and he knows he will most definitely help you finish any level you can’t. and something he wont say, a quiet confession springs in his mind: he loves you and most definitely he loves to play for you. and based on you willingly passing him your phone, maybe, just maybe, he wont give in to his impulses and actually find that guy - only shooting daggers at him that sends a shiver down his spine when he waits outside your class for you to release after school.
rin itoshi:
its not the first time rin felt this pang in his chest: he felt it when his older brother kicks the ball to any other member of the football team to shoot for the goal, he felt it when his teammates seems to be able to shoot he ball even more accurately than he does, he felt it when his brother praised yoichi instead of him. he’s always regarded that feeling as something football related: he’s never felt too much emotions outside of his passion and hobbies either way - but lately, he thinks he feels it a lot whenever he’s with you. perhaps, the seed from before blue lock has started blooming: the day you boarded the bus with him to the facility that was hours away from yours and his house that made his cheeks stain with pink as he sits right beside you, eating the filling breakfast you made for him, beaming at him so brightly as you wave him goodbye that makes him hesitate for the first time in his life.
and right now, he doesn’t get it. its not like there’s a lack of chocolates at his desk, if anything its quite the opposite. there’s practically a mountain of chocolates of different variety that would surely fulfill his secret sweet tooth - from dark chocolate in a heart shape mold bought from a fancy shop, from milk chocolates in squares sprinkled with heart shaped sweet bits on top, or even strawberries dipped in white chocolate. and yet, if looks could kill, that guy who’s holding YOUR chocolate box would have died, guts spilled right on the classroom door like those cliche horror games he plays. rin doesn’t get it: its not as if youre close witht that guy,youre his seat partner for all the years you’ve spent together since kindergarten, and he’s sure that that guys no one special right? and its out of character when rin thinks harder about a nobody in his class: do you like band kids like that lame guy? (he did learn the guitar for fun when he was younger, should bring it out from under his bed again?) do you like guys who are a little better at math? (maybe he should study for this weeks math quiz he thinks) or do you like guys who have leadership roles? (he’ll ask to be captain of the football team, its obvious anyways, he’s the best in this dull football club in his school)
usually, when he feels this same pang in his chest, he ignores it, keep mum about it and just work harder instead until the glass shards leave his heart - and yet he can’t do that strangely despite the routine between you two staying: where you and him sit together at the back of the class, playing your phone at the back oops the class unbeknownst to the teacher, giggling and whispering about whatever, your feet kicking his occasionally from the lack of distance that makes his face a little pink. yet, here he is eyeing that last chocolate underneath your table, its unlike the others he noted - unlike the mini chocolate cup you passed to that guy who he wishes to punch simply because of the smug smirk that was plastered on his face, unlike the small chocolate bars you presented to the other girls in the class, and even more special definitely from the chocolate candies you sneak into both his and yours mouth during class. its heart-shaped, reminiscent of the other chocolate now angrily thrown into one plastic bag that he plans to eat whilst crying about this the second he reaches home, a ribbon tied messily clearly with much effort too, and even pasted mini heart papers.
and its not until recess when youre alone with rin in class as per routine, everyone leaving for lunch does he do something about it for the first time in his life about this nagging and tugging feeling that makes him feel like a little kid again. and it just might have been the universe way of telling the two of you how connected you two are: as you struggle to find the courage to give him the slightly burnt chocolate brownies inside the heart shaped box.
“i.. like you.” “f-for you rin..!”
its simultaneous, at the exact same time, where the clock struck 1:00pm.
the confession he’s kept all these years, since the first day he’s met you at kindergarten where you two practically were fixed at the hips ever since: seat partners since primary school all the way up until now where youre both now seventeen and about to go to university and him to become a professional football player soon. ten years - ten years of looking at you as if he’s so far away when youre with anyone but him as he feels the friendship bracelet around his wrist for reassurance, ten years of writing confession letters after confession letters and poetries only to rip them all apart, yelling into his pillow and kicking his feet like a maiden in love, ten years of looking at you pass chocolates every single time during valentines except to him. its unlike rin, he’s never been good at expressing himself, believing in action over words - the way he carries your files and extra bags after school, the way he always listens and remembers what you say and even buy things you’ve mentioned offhandedly with his own pocket money, the way he never hesitates to carry you back home even when his leg is all jelly from football practice that he doesn’t tell you.
and its the same for you. the valentine gift you’ve made for him all these years: spanning from chocolate chip cookies you’ve made, to macrons you bought for him from his favourite bakery, or even his favourite blueberry pie your mother bought you - and yet all left underneath the table, secretly placed back in your bag for you to eat it whilst crying about your cowardice. and you hate it: these ten years of watching him carry a plastic bag full of physical confessions without any interest, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even when youre staying over and opening a pack of these chocolates when you’re hungry, these ten years of looking bitterly at the friendship bracelet that is nothing more than a bitter reminder of how you’ll never be more because of your own cowardice, these ten years of looking at rin accept everyone’s chocolates but yours.
and for the first time in years, rin thinks it’s just right - when he places his lips on yours, melting into this sweet kiss with the brownie in his mouth. and he thinks you might just taste sweeter than the brownie melting between the two of yours mouth.
reo mikage:
he doesn’t get this tight feeling wrapping like thorns around his heart - seeing you so close with a classmate, smiling as he seems to be teaching you something through the windows of your classroom. it’s clearly not the exhaustion from climbing all the way from his class at the first level to yours at the fourth with this being the millionth time hes done this like a instinct every time the bell rings, its not the way your hands seems to linger so close to his practically touching someone’s else hands that gets reo sweating cold beads of sweat down his neck, and its not jealousy at how someone else might just be better than him. realistically he knows, you’re probably just having difficulties in your academics, a normal human thing but he can’t help the bitter bile that rises to his mouth - he can teach you too evident from the library dates where he helps you go through your homework and teach you the same concepts like hes made for it and hes definitely better than that classmate right? hes smarter, he tops the class every single exam without fail with his name always plastered on the results sheet as number one, he’s much more charming he would like to believe with your smile always reaching your eyes that he adores, and he’s much more useful with the way he can teach you whilst helping you with other things like while buying you food on his phone, fixing your broken pens, or something. he swallows the bitter bile, walking into the practically empty class with just you and that.. classmate, scruntising his every detail in his mind all whilst putting on the charming facade hes too used to having on - one that you can tell by the furrowing of your eyebrows at him as he grabs a chair and slides it beside you as though looking at your homework.
“haven’t i taught you this before?” its petty, he knows, its quite literally a new chapter, one that he knows your class just started on. but he thinks it does the job when he sees your classmate suddenly feel uncomfortable - perhaps its the tone of his voice that underlies irritation clearly meant for him, perhaps its the subtle passive aggressive smile aimed at him, or perhaps its the intimidation of having reo mikage right next to you clearly upset with you. he doesn’t really enjoy the title placed on him, if anything sometimes he loathes the reputation that comes with his family name, with people looking at him as only that and never as reo - but just this time does he thank the stars for his luck.
“huh?” he can tell, youre confused, and he thinks youre just so oblivious or maybe hes just weirdly jealous of something so insignificant that even your brain can’t comprehend him at all. but he doesn’t mind it as he glanced sideways at your classmate - awkwardly and quickly packing his bag, leaving just you and reo sitting at your desk.
and its awkward silence, with him looking at your homework that he just received just an hour ago and hasn’t started on too, and you looking confused at him. its not unfamiliar to see reo in your class, its practically routine at this point, except he usually just stands outside until youre done with packing your bag, taking it right from your hands the second you step out of your class.
“so.. who was that?” he cant help the way his voice suddenly sounds so soft, as though its about to crack, as if hes about to cry. he tries to clear his throat to even it out, and even so, he definitely sounded a little too out of character - out of character for how he presents himself: nothing short of perfect. and he knows youve caught it, the cats out of the bag, when he sees the sides of your mouth tug up a little as you zip your bag.
“just a classmate reo really…” your voice a little teasing, looking at him knowingly, as his hands tug at your bag, slinging it around his right shoulder where it should belong. and he thinks its alright: the way you ruffle his hair that feels just so right that he leans in even closer and even bends down a little like a dog desperate for a pat, the way you beam at him that he knows is meant only for him that shifts the rest of your class to be nothing more than just a blur, the way your bag fits snugly on his shoulder as it was meant to be.
“yeah? it better be!~” he chirps, jealousy no longer gripping onto him like a chain tugging at his neck, reminiscent of the feeling he feels in his stuffy and restrictive home. and he knows it’ll be that way until the end of time: the way your hands tugs at his tightly as though you never want to let go either, the way you look at him as though he’s your entire world, the way you understand him even through a few words. soulmates, maybe, and perhaps he has no reasons to ever feel this bitter feeling that burns his throat.
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butterfliesandwendigos · 3 months ago
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𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪. BEFORE — Josh Washington
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SUMMARY — a rekindled romance with Josh Washington leads to a night of pleasure and requited feelings for one another.
W/C — 6k.
NOTES — written in 2nd person POV, includes smut, smut, SMUT, lowkey a bit of fluff, considering writing a part two involving josh’s psycho prank reveal.
PART ONE | PART TWO
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The tension in the room escalates as a heavy silence settles over the group, and the cold air reflects the unease on everyone’s faces. The atmosphere grows thick with unspoken words, and the other friends exchange worried glances, unsure how to intervene in Emily and Jessica’s argument.
Standing in the centre of the room, Josh senses the confrontation spiralling out of control. He takes a deep breath, determination flickering in his eyes as he steps forward, his voice attempting to cut through the mounting anxiety.
“Mike, why don’t you check out the guest cabin? The one I told you about,” he suggests, trying to redirect the group’s attention away from the simmering conflict.
Looking at Jess with an eagerness that masks his concern, Mike jumps at the chance to shift gears. “Yeah, alright. Want to go do that?” he asks Jess, his tone light but tinged with hope.
Still bitter and glaring daggers at Emily, Jess responds with a sharp edge. “Any place without that whore,” she retorts, her voice dripping with disdain. Her eyes flicker to Emily, who stands rigid, hurt and anger swirling in her gaze.
Emily’s fists clench at her sides as she takes in Jess's words. “Wow, Jess. Classy,” she fires back, her voice strained as she struggles to maintain her composure.
Caught between the two, Josh tries to keep the mood light, though disappointment hangs heavy in his heart. “It’s right up the trail,” he chimes in, glancing nervously between them, desperate to diffuse the situation.
Mike, feeling the weight of Jess’s glare, takes her hand and pulls her gently away from the tension. “Let’s go,” he says, leading her toward the door, eager to escape the simmering conflict behind them.
As Jess and Mike step outside, the door clicks shut, leaving a heavy silence in the lodge. The warmth from the fireplace feels suddenly distant, and the atmosphere is charged with unresolved tension. Emily stands frozen for a moment, her heart racing with betrayal and anger, her body trembling as she processes the sting of jealousy.
Josh shakes his head slowly, disappointment etched as he watches Mike and Jess walk away. His eyes linger on Emily, concern flaring up as he witnesses the distress radiating from her. The remaining friends exchange uneasy looks, each uncertain how to navigate the sudden rift that has opened.
Matt, Emily’s boyfriend, stares at her with concern and confusion. He’s distressed by her jealousy, feeling her emotions pressing down on him. “Em, are you okay?” he finally asks, his voice hesitant, trying to bridge the gap between them.
Emily's expression hardens, turns on Matt, frustration spilling out in a flood. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’ll let her treat me like that! And do you know where my pink bag from the rodeo is?” she demands, her voice rising with agitation.
Matt is caught off guard and hesitates before responding. “Uh, I don’t know… I thought you had it with you,” he replies, unsure how to react to her outburst.
Emily’s eyes flash with anger. “Well, I don’t! So we need to find it. Now!” she insists, her tone leaving little room for argument.
With a heavy sigh, Matt nods, resigned to her request. “Okay, let’s look for it,” he replies, attempting to keep his voice steady, even as uncertainty lingers in his gaze.
Across the room, Sam, sensing the tension, tries to control her situation. “I’m going to have a nice, warm bath,” she announces, her voice breaking through the thick silence. “Maybe some relaxation will help.” She gives the group a small smile but does little to ease the tension.
As the air in the lodge remains heavy with tension, Josh takes it upon himself to bring some warmth back into the space. He moves toward the fireplace, fumbling with kindling and logs, determined to ignite a fire that can literally and metaphorically chase away the chill. He strikes a match, watching it flicker momentarily before it catches, the flame dancing to life.
His eyes search yours, filled with a mix of hope and vulnerability. At that moment, the noise of the lodge fades into the background, and it feels like the two of you are the only ones left in the room, standing on the precipice of a more profound connection amidst the chaos of friendship and rivalry.
Meanwhile, Ashley and Chris sit together in the corner of the room, their eyes darting nervously around the space. The silence between them stretches, filled only by the crackling of the match against the wood.
Ashley fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater, her cheeks flushed slightly. “It’s pretty intense, right?” she replies, trying to keep her tone light despite the seriousness of the situation. “I never thought it would get that heated. We’re supposed to be here to have fun, not fight.”
“Yeah,” Chris agrees, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s like, one minute we’re all friends, and the next… everyone’s at each other’s throats.” He glances over at Josh, who is still wrestling with the logs in the fireplace, trying to coax a flame to grow. “You think he’s going to be okay? I mean, he’s trying so hard to keep things together.”
Ashley nods, her eyes following Josh’s movements. “I hope so. He’s a good guy, you know? He wants everyone to have a good time. It’s just… hard to watch everyone fight like this.”
Chris, sensing a moment of connection, leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I appreciate how you always try to keep things positive. I wish I could be more like that sometimes.”
Ashley looks at him, her heart fluttering a little at the compliment. “Thanks, Chris. That means a lot,” she replies softly, a shy smile creeping onto her face.
Before they can delve deeper into their conversation, Sam returns down the stairs, a towel draped over her shoulder. She looks a bit flustered, running a hand through her damp hair. “Hey, guys,” she calls out, her voice bright but tinged with frustration. “I just checked the bath, and the gas is off, so the water’s cold. Great, right?”
Josh is still focused on getting the fire to catch and grimaces. “Seriously? That’s not what I needed to hear right now,” he mutters, finally coaxing a small flame into existence.
Sam rolls her eyes playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, let’s just add it to the list of things going wrong tonight.”
Josh, however, takes the news in stride and turns toward you with a spark of determination in his eyes. “Y/N, how about we go to the basement and check the gas? It shouldn’t be too complicated, and I could use the extra hands.”
Ashley and Chris exchange glances, their conversation momentarily forgotten. “Do you think you can fix it?” Chris asks, his brow furrowed in concern.
Josh nods confidently, but there’s a hint of uncertainty beneath the bravado. “Yeah, it’s probably just a quick adjustment.”
Sam shrugs, a smile returning to her face. “I’ll keep an eye on the fire for you guys. Just don’t blow anything up, okay?”
“Promise,” Josh replies, flashing a grin as he heads toward the basement door, glancing back at you. “You coming, Y/N?”
Josh’s hopeful gaze offers a chance for distraction, perhaps even a moment to connect without the chaos of the others hanging overhead.
“Yeah, I’m in,” you respond, pushing off from your seat. You can’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline at the idea of stepping away from the drama and into the unknown of the basement with Josh.
He smiles, a mixture of relief and excitement crossing his features. “Awesome. Let’s go.”
Together, you head toward the basement door, the creaky wood floorboards echoing softly behind you. As Josh opens the door, a rush of cool air greets you, starkly contrasting the lodge's warmth. The darkness beyond is thick, with only a few dim lights flickering in the distance.
“Do you have a flashlight?” you ask, glancing back at him.
“Yeah, I got one,” he replies, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, rugged flashlight. He flicks it on, illuminating a narrow staircase that leads down into the gloom.
You descend the stairs together, the light casting long shadows against the stone walls. The air grows more relaxed, a bit musty, filled with the scent of old wood and dust. As you reach the bottom, the beam reveals an assortment of old furniture covered in sheets, boxes piled high, and the occasional rustle of a rat scurrying away.
“Welcome to the dungeon,” Josh jokes, trying to keep the atmosphere light as he sweeps the flashlight across the room. “Quite the sight, huh?”
You chuckle, appreciating his attempt at humour. “At least it’s not filled with creepy dolls or something.”
Josh nods, stepping further inside. “Let’s see if we can figure out what’s going on with the gas.” He moves to a panel on the wall, inspecting it closely. “It shouldn’t be too complicated. Just a valve adjustment, I think.”
You step closer, watching him with a mix of admiration and concern. He looks determined, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration as he kneels to get a better look at the mechanism. The moment feels profound and fragile as you and Josh exchange lingering glances. But the sudden crash from the living room jolts you back into the present. You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts and take a deep breath.
“I think it came from upstairs,” you reply, your pulse quickening as your heart races. “Should we check it out?”
Josh hesitates, glancing toward the stairs. “Maybe we should finish with the gas first? If it’s nothing, we don’t want to leave it unattended.”
You nod, trying to push aside the unease creeping into your thoughts. “Right, let’s focus on this first.”
With renewed determination, you both turn your attention back to the valve. After a few moments of adjustments and checking gauges, Josh finally gives a satisfied nod. “I think that should do it. Let’s head back upstairs and let them know.”
As you return to the stairs, the unsettling feeling in your gut lingers, amplifying the sense that something isn’t right. The sounds of the lodge—laughter, tension, muffled voices—float down to you, becoming a mix of reassurance and dread.
Just as you reach the top of the stairs, another loud noise reverberates through the lodge, a sharp sound like something heavy being knocked over. You exchange worried glances with Josh, both of you feeling the shift in the atmosphere.
“What was that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know,” Josh replies, his tone serious as he tightens his grip on the flashlight. “But we need to find out.”
With that, you both step back into the main room, the previous tensions overshadowed by an unfamiliar fear. The crackling of the fire is drowned out by hurried footsteps and raised voices, the friends agitated by whatever’s happening.
“Did you hear that?” Josh asks, his eyes darting around the room.
You nod, feeling the weight of the unknown pressing down on you. “We need to stick together,” you suggest a quiet resolve forming between you.
“Stay behind me,” he replies, stepping closer as you prepare to confront whatever lurks in the shadows. The night is far from over, and the real challenge has only begun.
Just as you reach the bottom of the stairs, a sudden flash of colour catches your eye. Before you can react, Chris bursts into the hallway, wearing a ridiculous, oversized bathrobe with a floppy hat and fuzzy slippers. He strikes a dramatic pose, grinning widely.
“Behold! The Phantom of the Lodge!” he exclaims, his voice booming as he swings his arms for effect.
You jump back, letting out a surprised yelp. Instinctively, you grab Josh’s arm, clinging to him tightly as your heart races. “Oh my God, Chris! You scared me!”
Josh chuckles, his initial shock melting into laughter as he steadies you. “Seriously, man? This is the best you could come up with?”
Chris leans into his performance, spinning around in the robe and throwing his hands up. “What? You don’t like my haunting style? I thought I’d bring some fun to this dreary evening!”
You can’t help but laugh, the night's tension momentarily dissipating as you release Josh’s arm, albeit reluctantly. “I mean, if the ghost you’re trying to scare is one of my nightmares, then sure, it’s working!”
Josh shakes his head, still smiling. “You need to get better at hiding, Chris. That was way too easy.”
Chris pretends to be offended, placing a hand over his heart. “Easy? I’m a master of scare tactics! Just look at my costume!” He twirls again, the robe billowing dramatically around him. “If I were a real ghost, I’d have you all quaking in your boots!”
Josh rolls his eyes but can’t help but smile at Chris’s antics. “You might want to reconsider your career choices, buddy. You’re more likely to make us laugh than scream.”
The lighthearted banter creates a much-needed distraction, and the tension from earlier seems to fade a bit. You take a deep breath, feeling more at ease, though you still chuckle as Chris prays around in his ridiculous outfit.
“Okay, okay, you’ve had your fun,” you say, finally regaining your composure. “But seriously, let’s focus. We must check on the others and see what’s happening.”
Chris drops the act, his playful demeanour shifting to concern. “Right, right. I just thought a little laughter would lighten the mood. Things have been pretty intense tonight.”
“Yeah, they have,” Josh agrees, his expression turning serious again. “But let’s get back out there and have some fun.”
As you enter the main room, the lingering echoes of laughter from Chris’s antics fade into the background, replaced by the familiar tension that still lingers among the group. You glance at Josh, feeling the weight of your unresolved feelings.
“Hey, Josh,” you say, lowering your voice to ensure Chris doesn’t overhear. “Can we talk for a second? Like… about last year?”
Josh’s expression shifts, a mix of curiosity and concern. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I just… I feel like we’ve both been avoiding it. Everything that happened before...”
His gaze softens, the vulnerability in his eyes mirroring your own. “Before my sisters disappeared.”
Just then, Chris, standing a few feet away, suddenly perks up. He catches Josh’s eye and raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. “Uh, I’ll be waiting over there,” he says, gesturing to a corner of the room. “You two take your time.”
You can’t help but smile at Chris’s teasing, but Josh rolls his eyes, a hint of embarrassment colouring his cheeks. “Thanks, Chris. We’ll try to keep it brief,” he replies, trying to suppress a grin.
As Chris saunters away, you turn back to Josh, feeling a rush of nervous energy. “So, where do we even start?” you ask, glancing around to ensure no one else is listening.
“I guess we start with the fact that I missed you,” he admits, his voice low and sincere. “When everything happened, my only focus was on finding my sisters. But I’ve thought about you a lot and regret not saying anything sooner.”
You feel your heart flutter at his words. “I missed you too. I didn’t want to complicate things when you already dealt with so much.”
“I know,” he replies, his expression pained. “And I appreciate you allowing me time to heal with my parents. Last year was such a mess. I’m just glad you had nothing to do with Hannah’s prank,” Josh admits, stepping towards you.
“Never, I could never have anything to do with that,” You say softly, giving him a warm smile.
He nods, his gaze unwavering. “I know. It would’ve hurt me a lot if you did.”
After a few moments, you poke some fun at the tension lingering from the past. “You know,” you say playfully, “I couldn’t have possibly been part of Hannah’s prank. Thanks to you last year, I was too busy being in a compromising position.”
Josh raises an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh really? Care to elaborate on that?”
You can feel the moment's weight hanging in the air, the tension from earlier dissipating as you lock eyes with Josh. The connection between you feels electric, and for a fleeting moment, the chaos of the lodge fades into the background.
You raise an eyebrow, a smile creeping onto your lips. “Are you trying to charm me, Josh?”
“Maybe,” he replies, leaning slightly closer, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve been known to have that effect on people. And honestly, what sane woman could resist it?”
Josh glances back to ensure no one is watching before he reaches out, gently brushing your arm with his hand. “Let’s go upstairs,” he says, his voice low and inviting.
As you both make your way toward the staircase, a voice interrupts your moment. Chris and Ashley round the corner, eyebrows raised in unison.
“Hey! Where are you two sneaking off to?” Chris calls out, a teasing grin spreading across his face.
You exchange a glance with Josh; both are caught off guard. “Uh, just... checking out the view from upstairs!” you manage to say, attempting to sound casual.
“Yeah, you know,” Josh adds quickly, “the top floor has the best spot for stargazing. I just wanted to make sure we don’t miss it.
Ashley leans in, her expression sceptical. “Right. Because you two need alone time for stargazing.” She smirks, clearly not buying it.
Josh nods, his grin still plastered on his face. “Yeah, we just want to hang out for a bit. You know how it is—sometimes you need a break from the chaos.”
Chris and Ashley exchange a knowing look, and you can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up under their scrutiny. “All right, all right,” Chris finally concedes, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply, rolling your eyes, a grin breaking through.
With one last playful eye-roll from Ashley and an exaggerated sigh from Chris, they leave you and Josh standing at the base of the stairs.
You and Josh make your way down the dimly lit hallway, the faint sound of the wind howling outside, barely breaking the heavy silence. The air feels cold against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You instinctively lean closer to him, and he responds by wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in a little tighter to keep you warm.
“Is it just me, or does it feel like this place gets colder the further we walk?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood despite the chill.
Josh chuckles softly, glancing down at you. “Yeah but don’t worry, I’ve got you.” He squeezes you gently, his warmth radiating through his skin, making you feel more at ease.
As you approach his room, the door looks more inviting against the shadows filling the hallway. Josh stops just outside, looking down at you with a hint of nervousness in his eyes. He turns the handle and opens the door, revealing a cozy space with warm lighting, the comforting scent of wood, and something faintly sweet. As he steps inside, you follow him, and he quickly shuts the door behind you, locking it with a soft click.
Once inside, the atmosphere shifts. The hallway's darkness is replaced by the warm glow of a bedside lamp, illuminating the room and casting soft shadows on the walls. It feels intimate and safe here.
Josh’s gaze drops to your lips briefly, and everything shifts in that instant. The air between you crackles with electricity, and before you can process it, he closes the distance, cupping your face gently with his hands.
Time seems to slow as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach flutter wildly as your heart races. And then, his lips find yours, soft and tentative at first, as if testing the waters.
You respond instinctively, leaning into him, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate as the tension and unspoken feelings from before surging to the surface. It feels natural as if this moment has been building for far longer than the few minutes you’ve been alone. The warmth of his body envelops you, and you lose yourself in the sensation, the world outside fading entirely from your mind.
When you finally pull away, breathless, you look into Josh’s eyes, searching for the same emotions you feel swirling inside you. His cheeks are flushed, and his gaze’s a look of wonder.
Your warmth intensifies as your lips meet again, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, a blend of pent-up emotions and undeniable attraction. Josh’s hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. The world outside the door fades entirely, leaving only the sound of your heart beating in sync.
You feel excitement as he deepens the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a newfound hunger. His hands explore your back, fingers brushing against the fabric of your sweater, sending shivers down your spine. You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer, the kiss growing more heated with each passing second.
"God, I've wanted this for so long," Josh murmurs against your lips, his breath warm and heavy, making your heart race even faster.
"Me too," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, the thrill of his admission sending a wave of excitement through you. As if sensing your need for more, he deepens the kiss, and you melt into him.
You feel his hands explore your sides, fingers brushing against your skin, igniting every nerve ending. The sensations swirl around you, and you lose yourself in the sweetness of his kiss, his intoxicating taste. Josh pulls you closer, the pressure of his body against yours, heightening the tension. You can feel the heat radiating off him, pulling you in like a magnet. The kiss becomes more frantic and desperate, as if you're afraid of what might happen if you stop.
When you break apart momentarily, Josh’s eyes dark with desire. "I can't believe it took us this long to do this again," he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sends shivers through you, and you lean into him, craving more.
Without breaking eye contact, he leans in again, capturing your lips in a soft and demanding kiss. You feel the fire between you intensify, and you sigh softly as you return the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you can feel his warmth against you, making it hard to think. The world outside ceases to exist; the two of you are wrapped up in this moment.
"Y/N," he murmurs, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, desires flickering in his gaze. He gestures towards your top, tugging at the bottom of it. “Can I?"
Your heart races at the question, but the answer feels instinctual. "Yes," you reply, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions.
With a spark of determination, Josh slides your t-shirt over your head. His hands slide down your back, gripping your hips as he pulls you closer, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He pulls you down with him, guiding you onto his lap.
As you settle onto his lap, the heat between you grows palpable. Josh's hands remain firm on your hips, grounding you in the moment—his gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, filled with hunger and tenderness.
With a swift movement, he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing toned muscles that glisten softly in the dim light. The sight sends a rush of excitement through you, and your breath catches in your throat.
He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I want to see you." The request ignites a thrill of anticipation within you.
Josh's fingers trace the delicate curve of your spine as he gently removes your bra, letting it fall to the floor unnoticed. His gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he takes in the sight of you. The room is quiet except for your joint breaths, each heavier than the last.
"You are so beautiful," he whispers, his voice a low, husky rumble that sends shivers down your spine.
He doesn't wait for a response. Instead, his hands slide around to cup your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You gasp, arching into his touch, your head tilting back instinctively.
"So responsive," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your jawline as he moves closer to your ear. "I love how you react to my touch."
His words tingle your skin, and you can feel the heat pooling between your legs. You want more of his hands, mouth, and more of him. You nod, unable to form words through the haze of desire clouding your mind.
With a wicked grin, Josh shifts his grip, one hand still playing with your nipple while the other slides down to your waistband. He tugs at your leggings, pulling it down your hips until it crumples at your thighs. Your panties are now exposed, and he wastes no time reaching under them, his fingers brushing against the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs.
"Spread your legs for me," he commands softly, his voice firm but not unkind.
You obey, parting your legs slightly, allowing him better access. His fingers continue their journey upward, dipping just inside the edge of your panties before finding their target. You feel the pad of his index finger glide over your clit, a slow, teasing stroke that makes you bite your lip to stifle a moan.
"That’s it," he encourages, adding another finger to circle your clit faster. "Let me hear you."
The combination of his dirty talk and touch pushes you closer to the edge. You try to maintain some semblance of control, but his fingers on your clit have reduced you to a quivering mess. Your breath comes in short gasps, and you can feel the tension building rapidly inside you.
“Josh…” you manage to whisper, your voice cracking as waves of pleasure begin to crest.
He responds by pressing harder, his thumb circling your nipple while his fingers work magic between your legs. The sensations are too intense, and you know you won't last much longer. Your body stiffens, muscles tightening as you feel the familiar rush of an impending orgasm.
"Cum for me," he orders, his voice laced with authority. "Show me how much you like my fingers."
Those words tip you over the edge. A cry escapes your lips as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you, your body trembling with the force of your release. Josh doesn't let up, continuing to stroke you through the aftershocks, ensuring every ounce of pleasure is wrung from your body.
When the tremors finally subside, you collapse against him, weak and breathless. Josh pulls his fingers away, bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. The look in his eyes tells you this is far from over.
"Now," he says, his voice rough with unspent desire, "it's my turn."
He stands up, lifting you effortlessly and laying you back onto the bed. You watch as he quickly sheds the rest of his clothes, revealing his hard, eager cock. He positions himself between your legs, his hands resting on either side of your head as he hovers above you, maintaining that intense eye contact.
"Tell me what you want," he demands, his tone brooking no refusal.
You bite your lip, considering your answer. The power dynamic has shifted, and you feel thrilled at being under his command. But you also know what you want—what you need.
"I want you inside me," you confess, your voice soft but clear. "Please, Josh."
A smile curves his lips, triumphant and possessive. "Good girl," he murmurs, lowering himself until his cock brushes against your entrance. "This might hurt a little at first. I want you to take every inch."
You nod, understanding the challenge. He slowly pushes forward, stretching you, filling you. The initial sting gives way to a deep, throbbing pleasure as he sinks deeper, inch by agonisingly delicious inch. You clutch at the sheets, trying to anchor yourself as he continues his relentless advance.
"All of it," he growls, his muscles straining as he reaches the hilt. "Take all of me."
You whimper, overwhelmed by the fullness but also by the primal rush of having him entirely inside you. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust, his hands moving to cradle your face as he gazes down at you.
"Are you ready?" he asks, though it sounds more like a statement.
Before you can answer, he pulls out slightly and then thrusts back in, which is more challenging this time. The impact makes your breath hitch, and you can't help but cry out at its intensity. He repeats the motion, each thrust more vigorous than the last, pushing you higher and higher.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he mutters, his voice strained. "So tight."
Your nails dig into his shoulders as you meet his thrusts, your hips rising to greet him. The rhythm builds, becoming more frantic, more desperate. The world narrows down to just the two of you, locked in this primal dance of lust and need.
Suddenly, he changes pace, slowing down just enough to tilt his hips differently. The angle hits a spot deep inside you that makes your vision blur with pleasure. You can feel your second climax approaching, and you cling to him for dear life.
"Josh... I'm close," you gasp, your voice barely audible.
He smiles darkly, taking that as his cue. "Then cum all over me," he says, speeding up again. "Let go."
His words trigger something within you, and you feel the dam break as another powerful orgasm rips through you. Your body convulses beneath him, and you moan his name as you ride out the waves of pleasure.
Josh doesn’t stop his thrusts, making them harder and rougher with each stroke. You begin to feel the slick between your legs turn into a gush, tiny droplets of your heat squirting on his pelvis. He slides out and pushes back in, going deeper each time. You feel his hands on your hips as he thrusts into you harder and harder, your slick still flying onto his abdomen. He looks into your eyes with a wicked smirk, his cock never slowing.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” you mumble, barely coherent.
You feel like you’re on fire, your muscles are so tense they feel like they’re about to snap, your body is clenching down on him so hard it hurts, and you feel yourself pouring like a waterfall.
Josh suddenly stops and flips you on your side, his body following suit as he lays behind you. You feel his arms wrap around your waist, his chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
“You know I’m not kidding when I say you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers into your neck.
You feel him stiffen behind you and realise he’s still inside you. You moan quietly, and he slowly starts to move again. His hands grip your hips, and he picks up the pace, fucking you harder this time. You push back into him, your body desperate for his cock.
“I knew…” he grunts, his movements getting faster and faster. “I knew it the first night we met.”
You gasp at his words and start to feel another orgasm build. His cock hits a different spot inside you this time, and you feel it fill you. You begin to shake and moan as your muscles clench down on him. He lets out a loud groan, and his movements become more erratic.
“I’m gonna cum,” he moans. You feel him pick up the pace and drive himself into you repeatedly. His cock swells inside you, and you feel his hot release cover your walls. His cum floods your pussy as he fucks you through his orgasm. He collapses behind you and pulls out. You feel his cum dripping out of you and look over your shoulder at him. He’s watching your pussy with a look of satisfaction on his face.
Josh wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer into his embrace. “I shouldn’t have left you for so long. I’ve been so caught up with Hannah and Beth disappearing… but seeing you tonight reminded me of everything I’ve always felt for you.”
You stay silent, waiting to hear his following words. A short while later, you feel him getting up. You roll over onto your back and watch as he walks away, naked and utterly comfortable in his own body. He disappears out the door and returns a minute later, holding a box of tissues and a damp washcloth.
He climbs into bed, pressing the washcloth to your pussy. “I want to take care of you. I want to make sure you feel good.”
“I want to take care of you too, Josh,” You whisper, voice barely above a whisper. You’re exhausted but relaxed beyond any relaxation you’ve ever experienced.
“I love that you’re all fucked out for me,” he says. You smile at him and watch as he tosses the washcloth away and opens the box of tissues.
He pulls out a few and gently wipes his cock clean. He looks up at you as he does it, watching your reaction to him cleaning himself. You feel your body start to get warm, and your nipples perk up at the sight. He smiles as he realises what’s happening.
“I’m tempted to go for round 2, but I think it would be kind of rude for the house host to disappear for long periods… even if it’s to spend time with a super gorgeous woman,” Josh says, throwing the used tissues onto the floor and crawling back into bed with you.
“Let’s lay here for a little while,” You tell him, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer to you. He pulls the blankets over both of your naked bodies and comfortably wraps his arms around your body.
“We can lay here, but not for too long; the others will come busting in here and find us naked,” Josh laughs, playing with the hair strands dangling over your chest.
“Fine,” You yawn, feeling yourself slip into a deep slumber, “We’ll only stay for… a little… while.”
Yawn after yawn, your physical tiredness overtook your awakened state. Slowly, your eyes closed, and your muscles relaxed into the comfort of Josh’s mattress.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Josh whispers into your ear, unaware of your sleeping state. He hears a slight, feminine-sounding snore and peers over your body, observing your half-open mouth and closed eyes.
Kissing you on the forehead, Josh slowly gets out of bed and gets dressed. He has big plans for tonight, sadistic, messed-up plans… and he wanted you to have no part in it.
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