#i suck at fluff

[zephyra-in-the-house]

Progress Report on Second Chances

Chapter 27 is coming soon to a theater near you 👀🎉

[mylittlesyn]

So I'm entering needy mode in the night/end of my leutal phase... So who's going to be a dear on anon and dick around with me? Or do I need to reblog another ask thing? Or do I need to just stop being so needy and write more fan fic?

[zephyrchama]

(obey me!) moments where they fall in love with you all over again

---01

It’s dinner, and you’re talking about mundane things that happened during your day. You saw a cool bird, got some gum stuck on your shoe, and bought a new flavor of toothpaste to try. Everyone is listening intently. If only they would pay this much attention in class.

Lucifer knows the way his brothers look at you all too well. It’s a look full of respect, admiration, and fondness. It’s a look that’s often reflected on his own face when in your presence. At first he never really understood why you put up with his siblings, as the option to ignore them and be on your way was always there. Yet you continue to make time for them anyway. How unusual.

Moments like these where everyone is together and you don’t treat them as the Seven Rulers of Hell, you just treat them as your dear friends and family. That’s what makes Lucifer soft. He tries to imagine a long future of things staying just like this.

---02

Mammon’s hesitant to lend anybody money, even you. It takes a few minutes to butter him up and fluff his ego before he relents. At last, he hands you the crispest bill in his wallet. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” he kids, knowing full well he’d do just that if he was in your shoes.

He’s curious what you plan to buy. It never dawns on him that you have no intention of spending the cash. Half an hour later, he finds it on his desk. The exact same bill, now creased and folded neatly into an origami bird.

He picks it up to wiggle the little paper wings, entranced, then looks around frantically and catches your eye. A playful smile graces your face and tugs at his heartstrings.

---03

Leviathan is not typically one to make mistakes when it comes to anime. But even he’s not perfect.

He had it set in his mind that the new show premiered at 6:00pm, which left plenty of time to prepare the ultimate solo viewing party after school. He was humming quietly to himself when you walked over. “Isn’t your show starting soon?”

You specifically took an interest in his hobbies. You remembered that it started at 16:00 (four o’clock), not 6:00. Leviathan wondered, how could he make such a egregious mistake? You were the one who dashed back to the House of Lamentation at full speed by his side. When your human stamina started failing, he unconsciously picked you up so you’d both make it in time. You made it with two minutes to spare.

Sweaty and out of breath, still in uniform, you were able to watch the premiere together. It wasn’t until after credits rolled, you went elsewhere, and the live reactions on social media started calming down that Levi realized what a big deal this was to him. What a big deal you were to him.

---04

Satan wasn’t expecting you to be spacing out in his favorite armchair. He had plans to read in it that evening, and considered asking you politely to move. But the way the lamp light shines on your skin, the thoughtful expression on your face while pondering ideas unknown. The way your lips part ever so slightly and your eyes gaze off into nothing. It captivates him. You look like a painting. His breath gets caught in his throat, and in clearing it he manages to break your trance.

“Oh, hey. Welcome home, I didn’t realize you were there.”

You go to get out of the chair, but Satan insists you stay. It doesn’t look right without you anymore. He doesn’t feel right without you anymore.

---05

Asmodeus does not have wardrobe malfunctions often. His outfits are of the highest quality and a lot of care goes into putting them on. Still, things happen.

When his fans rush forward out of nowhere, sometimes they are successful in tearing his clothes. A fistful of shirt here, a mouthful of pants-leg there. Being in the center of a lust-fueled stampede can make even the most collected people lose their minds, but you are steadfast. You shout at the rabid demons, shaming them for their disrespect. You believe you can chase them off all on your own, not knowing that the Avatar of Lust behind you is exuding a killer aura and warning his fans to back off with a powerful glare.

As you sloppily stitch up what remains of his shirt so he can walk home without the incident repeating, Asmodeus is smiling from ear to ear. You’re so focused on genuinely helping that you don’t even notice the bedroom eyes he’s flashing. The scene of you waving your arms and trying to chase off a pack of demons as if they were stray pigeons is permanently ingrained in his memory. Just as your existence is ingrained in his soul.

---06

Beelzebub knows what he likes. He knows what will catch his interest and is pleasantly surprised when a new one crops up.

One thing he likes is you. Another is food. Both are in the cafeteria. He piles a tray high with carbs and goes looking for you at lunch time, finding you seated in the middle of a long table at the edge of the room. He calls your name.

It’s unexpected, the way you quickly swing your head up mid-bite. Your cheeks are full and noodles dangle from your mouth, sauce dripping back onto your plate. Your eyes light up as you look at him from below. It makes him stop in his tracks, causing several shorter demons to walk into him. Such a simple action, yet so profound. You hurriedly chew and offer him a seat while Beelzebub powers through his emotions. He takes a seat across from you to offer a napkin, wondering when he’ll see that face again.

---07

It’s late, far past everyone’s bedtime. Yet Belphegor forgot to tell you something during the day and decided now would be a great time. When you don’t respond to the quiet knocks at your door, he lets himself inside. Your sleeping figure looks too comforting to resist and he gets the brilliant idea to crawl into bed with you to whisper in your ear.

The problem is, as soon as he lifts the covers, you fart. It’s loud. You don’t move an inch, remaining fast asleep and ignorant of what just happened.

Belphegor freezes in his tracks to process it, but is soon doubled over on the futon laughing. The vibrations wake you. You sleepily open your eyes to see who is in hysterics and ask the obvious: “what?”

Belphegor is laughing too hard to tell you. He doesn’t want to tell you. It’s too priceless. You groggily smack him with a spare pillow and it makes him laugh harder. While he loves to look at you, that week it becomes difficult for him to meet your eyes without erupting into a fit of giggles.

[celestialwrites]

saying ‘i love you’ without saying ‘i love you’ dialogue prompts

@celestialwrites for more!

♡ “to me, you are perfect.”

♡ "don't you realise? you are my world."

♡ "you brought me back to life."

♡ "the only way i know how to describe what i feel around you is home. i feel at home."

♡ "it's as if my entire life i have been sinking in a storm and you came and pulled me out."

♡ "you know i stayed for you, and frankly, i don't regret it one bit."

♡ "with the whole of my heart, i believe that together we are infinite."

♡ "i never intend on leaving you. you hear me? never."

♡ "thank you for being the shoulder i always needed, even when you hated me."

♡ "i can't live without you!"

♡ "never leave me, my heart couldn't bear it."

♡ "i've spent my whole life waiting for you."

♡ "consumed in darkness, you darling, were my light."

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS!!<3

[emmcfrxst]

LOGAN GIVING HIS PARTNER HIS DOG TAGS AS AN ENGAGEMENT RING SUBSTITUTE 🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣

it happens in the afterglow of your lovemaking, with your head resting on his broad chest and one hand over his heart, fiddling with the hair there. he leans down to kiss the top of your head, warm hand tenderly running up your bare side before the words leave his lips in a rush, quick but fluid like a waterfall.

“marry me.” the tremors of vulnerability in his voice cause you turn your head to look at him with wide eyes, meeting his soft gaze. you stare at him for a few more moments, speechless, before your eyes well up with tears, a warm, genuine smile breaking onto your face.

“yes. yes i’ll marry you.” you whisper, voice trembling, causing a shaky laugh of disbelief to leave your lover’s lips. he cradles your head, thumb rubbing over your cheekbone affectionately before an embarrassed expression takes over his features, his ears turning a soft shade of pink.

“fuck…. i—i don’t have a ring or anythin’… i know it’s not much but—” he cuts himself off by sliding the dogtags off of his neck and passing them over your head, the metal resting between your breasts. the action makes you sob softly, moving to kiss him passionately— you know what his dogtags mean to him; a part of his identity he used to desperately cling onto when he was still searching for the remains of his failing memory. wrapping your fingers around them, you lift them up to your lips, leaving a soft kiss onto the metal before moving to do the same to the back of his hand.

“it’s perfect.” you reassure your lover, the dampness in your eyes matching his as he sniffles and nods, silently letting you know the depth of his gratitude. it is then that you promise yourself to spend the rest of your life guarding the metallic pieces like your most prized possession, just as you promise to love him until the very end of time.

[imababblekat]

Simon sees you sitting curled up in a chair, eyes peering lost at the sketchbook and computer before. He knows that look. It’s a look you often get when the team finally gets some time off, but you brain is stuck in this void of being unable to commit to any hobbies you once enjoyed. You told him about it once, it was offhandedly and you hadn’t delved much into it with due to still being fairly new and not wanting to bother the apparent cold stone lieutenant. Simon paid attention though, and this detail about yourself had been added to his mentail folder of his teammates.

A deep breath huffed out your nose, head drooping into your folded arms, when your ears picked up on the sound of light footsteps entering the kitchen area you resided.

“The usual?”, came Simons gruff voice, large hands reaching into the cabinet for your and his mugs.

“The usual.”, you mumbled in reply, staring at your phone and resisting the urge to start doom scrolling.

It was a battle you lost as you reached out to open an app and scroll mindlessly through its feed, the light clinking of Simon making you both tea behind you. You’re not sure how long he had taken, too lost in the endless information of peoples lives and other nonsensical things scrolling past your dulled eyes, not registering a thing you watched or read. At some point though, your phone had been snatched from your hands, replaced by a warm cup of your favorite tea, Simon pulling out the chair beside you to sit with his own.

You couldn’t even bother the smallest fuss at the large soldier for taking your phone, simpling taking a sip and then blindly staring into the liquid void.

“That bad today?”

You nod with a groan, putting your cup down to splay your hands out at the objects you once enjoyed before you.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I thought maybe I was bogged down by knowing I had chores to take care of, but even after finishing those I still can’t get myself to do any of my hobbies!”

Simon sipped his tea, dark eyes glancing up at your downtrodden expression. You thought nothing of his silence, having known him for a while now that his silence was him listening. If he truly wasn’t interested, he would have left, hell he wouldn’t have even bothered to make you a drink.

“I just. . .”, you hold your head in your hands, “I don’t feel myself. I finally get a break, and I can’t do anything I wanted to do. What’s the point of having hobbies if every time I try one of them, I immediately become disinterested?”

The Brit beside you stares down into his own mug now, thinking on your words, a silence filling in besides the muffled sound of Johnny bellowing songs in the shower upstairs. Before, he wouldn’t give two shits about something like this, leaving you to figure it out or not all on your own. Of course, being apart of the 141 it was only a matter of time before you became apart of this oddly dangerous family of sorts, and Simon found himself caring for you just as much as he did for the other three, even if he ever expressed it.

“Maybe doing nothin’, is what you’re suppos’d do.”

You quirked a brow at him.

“You? Telling me to do nothing?”

Simon rolled his eyes, sitting back against the creaking old dinning chair.

“Yeah, shocker I know, but trust me, after years of doing this shit, sometimes you jus’ gotta kick ya feet up and do fuck all.”

You look back to your tea before taking another sip, thinking on his words. He had a point though. As frustrating as it was, wanting to engage in activities that would normally bring you joy, it was only natural to not always be motivated to do them, especially with the grueling type of work you all did.

“Welp,” you shrug, closing your lap top shut and throwing your sketchbook atop it, “guess I’m doing fuck all today.”

A light, deep chuckle came from Simon, him always finding it kind of funny when outlandish vocabulary came from your lips. You never came off as the type to say such words, but then again you also didn’t exactly fit into the picture of the intimidating guys you were so close to.

“Good. Relax, ya earned it.”

You smile up at Simon, your eyes crinkling in the corners something that brought him some warmth.

“We earned it, Simon.”

[wandaspup]

Oh, waking up with Natasha in the morning. She’s a wearing a grey sports bra and tight briefs, perfectly showing off every curve of her cock. As she gets up she reveals her muscled thick ass and beefy back. She’d turn around with a lopsided grin and ask you what you wanted for breakfast. Using her Russian tongue of endearment to make you swoon. Even sometimes she’ll walk around like that for the rest of the day. You’d get a front row seat to her work out, watching the sweat ride down her rock hard abs and big squishy thighs. When she comes out of the shower, she’s completely bare. Her flaccid cock and balls on display as you press her body up against her, feeling her cock harden.

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

more of orca-reader who mistakes sharks-Eclipse/Sun/Moon for fellow lonely whales,,, bc they r my brain worms

[noobsoconfusing]

nasty dog_hamzahthefantastic

gross perv sub hamzah, stalker!hamzah, raging virgin hamzah, dry humping, begging, crying, overstim kinda? weird hamzah pls dont hate

>_<

- if neediness was a person, it would be hamzah.

- if the concept of loser was personified, it would also be hamzah

- now, guess what? if being intense and a virgin at the same time could be shortened to a word, it would, oh! also be hamzah

- maybe it’s the way he’d sneakily steal glances at you from the hallways, or the way he would rush his steps to ride the elevator with you.

- though, you never really noticed his presence. it made him sad. super sad. was he not worth your time? was he not friendly enough? he thought.

- living in the same apartment complex as you made him notice many things… he was very observant! that, or maybe, he did his research just fine

- he quickly picked up on your schedule…

- you were not very social, never leaving your apartment if it was not needed, the only times he’d see you in the stairs or elevator was when you went grocery shopping

- hamzah adores to peak outside to your side of the hall from the peephole on his door

- if he’s lucky enough, he’ll catch you grabbing mail or fixing the welcome mat you have on the floor

- and he was not so discreet about it. his breathing was loud and erratic, and sometimes by the closeness of the apartments, you could hear it behind the wooden door..

- at first, he got nervous. his heart stopped when you’d pause your actions to look around, shrugging as you dismissed the situation

- ugh, it makes him so stupidly horny how clueless you are, how you never notice his long glances and the lewd gross intentions he means w them

- hamzah’s hidden album on his photos app is full of pictures and videos of you :(

- sometimes normal pictures of you entering your apartment or videos of you running up the stairs…

- the thought of you being naive made his heart flutter, it was almost endearing how his imagination could really flow with all the pictures he had taken of you doing mundane stuff ……

- he’s also the type to steal your clothes from the common dryer the apartment complex has down in the basement in the laundry area

- loves the scent of your softener, but actually loves your natural scent even more. he craves your attention and taste and wonders how soft your skin must be, how pretty you look always, how desirable your lips are to him.

- hamzah is pretty much losing common sense each time you wander his mind. or when he sees you around, he loses the ability to act normal.

- now,,, just as he is utterly lovesick, he is also fucking weird and gross

- jerks off with your underwear (the ones he steals from your laundry basket) and absolutely feels no remorse after finishing

- even after he cums a first time, he keeps going on and on until he pretty much can’t get to physically cum anymore :(

- quite literally passes out, shaking and shivering from the stimulation.. thinking of you is enough to make him want to milk his nuts dry #rip

- now, hamzah is loud. yeah, but when he thinks of you while doing it, he gets a tone or two louder. just hoping you’d hear him and magically appear inside his room to help him up :(

“y/n, y/n… please…” his head was thrown back into the pillows, eyes shut and a bead of sweat slid down forehead. “oh my god, y/n, just….yeah, just like that..”

- actually imagines his own hand is yours, it helps him finish, not quicker, but just more intense.

- spills load after load, the puddle of cum adorning his lower tummy and part of the sheets, but somehow he can’t get to stop :c not when his imagination does wonders while thinking of his pretty neighbour, you.

- when he feels like he’s getting too loud, meaning, when his common senses start kicking in, he’d shamelessly just use your previously stolen panties as a gag to muffle his moans.

- unhinged as this man is, he is also the type to clean his cum up with your underwear T_T pathetically shivering at the touch of the thin fabric against his skin, gathering the drippy fluids and smearing them up

- yeah, he knows he’s gross and weird, but somehow can’t get himself to stop.

- something about doing all that lewd stuff behind your back makes him warm inside, a crude excitement fills him up each time he touches himself to the image of you

- blushes extremely hard the morning after his doings, when he not so accidentally runs to you on the hallway

- not a single ounce of shame inside that perverted body of his…….. -_-

- there’s times when he can no longer use your belongings to cum, practically unusable after jerking off w them repeatedly #•_•

- so he opts for the pillow. just slowly thrusting his hips to gather a touch, the fluffy fabric barely in contact with his boner makes him feral

- he is so stupidly desperate is so embarrassing

“s-shit… owwww!” hamzah bit his lip down so hard he swore he drew a bit of blood, “please, please, y/n let me- fuuuck, let me cum please? can i- just..”

he doesn’t even care if nobody is listening to him let alone you, he still asks for your permission because he wants to be good so bad

- humps the pillow like it’s his last day on earth.. the squeaking of the bed gets repetitive as his movements get clumsy and fast while chasing his high

- maybe the neighbours from the floor below will finally think he got to get laid. shame is, that’s just his pillow.

- hamzah thinks a screw came loose inside his mind when he gets the sudden urge to knock on your door to make his presence known

- but not exactly to introduce himself

- his hands are sweaty and shaky when he fidgets with the lewd object between his fingers but smiles to himself as he thinks of how beautiful and precious your surprised face would be ^_^

- after knocking twice, loud enough for you and the whole damn building to hear, he runs ungodly fast back to his apartment, ready to uncover the peephole and watch your reaction

hamzah smiles when he admires how you slowly open your door with a greeting smile, one that disappears after you realise there’s nobody at the door.

your big puppy eyes get wide at the expectation of seeing someone maybe around the halls, but when you turn your head both ways and see no one, hamzah bites his lip, feeling the know inside his stomach get tight with anticipation.

god you’re so fucking pretty. so naive.

when your sight glances at the floor, your eyebrows furrow confused, you bend your knees to the ground and kneel infront of the object placed on your welcome mat. huh?

“w-what…?” you murmur, and hamzah lets out a tiny moan when your soft voice leaves your lips.

“oh my god!”

you yelp when you realise that in fact, it is your long lost panties right there in front of you! however something doesn’t sit right when you grab them from the floor…

why are they damp and sticky?

hamzah observes behind closed doors, he wishes he could just go out and admit his nasty crimes, but how could he? if he can admire you from anonymity.

how could hamzah ever show his true self to you? oh, you’re just so innocent, so blind and clueless. he loves how dirty he feels when thinking of you.

- a few days later, he makes sure to do down the laundry room at the same time as you usually do, hoping to see you there.

- to his surprise, there you are! sorting out your dirty clothes and throwing the wet items into the dryer.

- he hesitates to say hi, just a polite good morning! or maybe a damn that’s a lot of laundry! but decides to shut up.

- instead, his eyes widen in surprise when you are the one to speak up at him for the first time….

“hey, sorry to bother, could- umm, could you maybe lend me some of your detergent? please?” your eyes looked glossy and shiny and he just wanted to devour you right there

he gulped and swallowed hard. suddenly his hands started sweating abnormally. however, he put up with a gentle smile.

“sure, use as much as you need.” he passed you the bottle. your fingers brushed and while you didn’t really mind, hamzah felt like he was about to bust.

“thank you! im double washing and ran out of my own detergent, but i’ll make it up to you! thanks a lot!” you explained, and he found it so endearing how you took the time to explain even when he didn’t need an explanation.

i’ll make it up to you! your words engraved into his brain. for real. he had many, many ideas of how you could make it up to him.

“it’s fine, don’t worry, i really don’t mind sharing, hah.” he reassured you. then he swallowed hard again, getting closer to you. “why are you double washing for?” he tried to make small talk.

you stopped your actions and looked at the ground.

‘oh well, someone likes to steal my underwear and nut on it! that’s why!’ you thought. then quickly laughed it away.

“just because.” you said. “better to be clean, right?” you friendly bumped his shoulder and he giggled.

hamzah knew damn well.

“yeah, right.”

- after that interaction he a 100% couldnt keep his hands off his dick for a week straight, just thinking about the way you carelessly speak, how you move and how you exist

- he’d fantasise about you talking him through his orgasm…. he’s obsessed with your voice so fucking much.

“owww, fuck! yeah, yeah…. just… fuck, yeah thank you, thank you, thank you, y/n…”

his chest heaved with shaky breaths, he was exhausted. jerking off was exhausting when he couldn’t stop to rest, just kept going and going until his mind was blurry and could no longer even think of you.

he imagined how your pretty voice would praise him, how you’d caress his hair as he spilled over and over his hand. ugh, he was so needy.

- hamzah’s obsessive curious feelings towards you keep growing even more when you start greeting him in the halls

- or when you hold the elevator door open for him

- and he can’t help but think, that if he hadn’t cum on your panties, you would’ve never noticed him. ever.

- how cool is that? hamzah thought, very fucking cool.

>_<

i hate this BUT i had been writing this since last week i just needed to LOCK IN. bye sorry this sucks byeee

[arttsuka]

Caption here

[gwumfu]

kiyoomi who can't stand the idea of touching things that aren't meticulously placed by his own hand. he knows exactly if it's clean, what surface it's touched, and how long it has been sitting there.

luckily everyone has their exceptions- in his case it's you. kiyoomi can grab onto your sleeve to guide you toward your guys' destination. kiyoomi who can cup your face between his hands, as he gazes down at you fondly. but... he still won't grab your hand unless he knows you've washed it. god forbid he kisses you before either of you has brushed your teeth. everyone has their limits.

[cranberrv]

dallas winston and girly!reader activities ♡

[iceman-soup]

ghost x soap

Of course it's fucking raining now that Soap and Ghost finally on leave. Sure, it's not unusual Scottish weather (they're staying in Johnny's small flat in Glasgow), and it's not like they were gonna do much today anyway, but still. It has them waking up in an already lazy mood, Simon shuffling to cuddle into his boyfriend closer and groaning.

The bed is too comfy and warm to get up, and Si doesn't want to move away from Soap's sleepy embrace. They're both conscious, quietly making incoherent noises of complaint at that fact back and forth at each other. Eventually, Johnny presses his lips to Ghost's forehead and rolls them over, sitting up on Simon's stomach to look out the window like a curious rabbit, then leaning down and littering his unmasked face with pecked kisses.

Simon laughs, running his hands through Soap's mohawk. Raindrops patter against the window as he flips them over again, hugging Soap tight then sitting up opposite him, pulling on a pair of comfy military-issued socks and one of his hoodies. The Sergeant sits up too, also pulling on one of Si's hoodies, and much fluffier socks with little skull prints all over them that Gaz had bought him as a gag gift which he ended up adoring.

"Mornin', love," Soap smiles, voice deep and groggy as he leans forward to rest his head on Ghost's chest, who hums in response and nuzzles his cheek against his hair. After a couple moments just sitting like that, the two reluctantly flop out of bed, padding their way over to the tiny kitchen before realising they barely have a scrap of food in the flat, only just having a few general ingredients and a small selection of tea and coffee.

Simon groans again, scanning the fridge as if something new is about to spawn in, before turning around, picking his boyfriend up and setting him on a counter, then passing him flour, eggs, milk and some oil, and getting out a frying pan for the stove.

"What're we making?" the shorter man asks, swinging his legs and playfully kicking Ghost whenever he gets in range.

"Secret," is the only reply he gets, but it's quickly obvious by the way Si mixes some flour, milk and two eggs together, creating a thin batter which he splashes into the pan, just about remembering to put oil in first so as to not completely fuck it all up. Then Chef Riley takes charge, and suddenly Johnny is being bossed around, ordered to get plates and get cutlery and cut up a lemon and put some caster sugar in a small bowl and set it out all pretty on the tiny dining table. In his own home, he complains lightheartedly.

The first pancake served is happily accepted by the Scot along with a quick kiss. The shit weather had only gotten worse, but that meant a perfect background noise for them to eat (although it did make conversation a little difficult). Once the batter is all used up, Ghost puts Soap on washing up duty, whilst he dries and puts everything away. And then it's essential to curl up on the sofa together, wrapped in one of Johnny's blankets, watching a randomly-selected war film and criticising even the slightest inaccuracies to make each other laugh.

[eiraeths]

in the early stages of ghost and soap’s relationship, utterance of, “i’ll kill for you,” were common place. “i’d die for you, lay my life on the line if it means you get to live other day,” are the simple devotions of a soldier. it’s what they’re trained to do. it’s the only way they knew how to show their love exists.

but what is a declaration of love and adoration if it’s what is already done?

over time words of intrinsic carnage change into fighting against their very nature. “i’ll survive for you. i’ll put down my weapons so we can live in our happy ending.”

[kenjakusbraincum]

Walls

Sukuna x Reader

A small addition to Vows

Synopsis: Two scenes exploring the first times reader and Sukuna respectively break down in the face of reader's terminal illness. Tags/Warnings: sick!gn!reader, master/pet dynamics, angst, hurt/comfort. (Chronologically takes place after reader and Sukuna talk about him taking new pets in the original fic!) Word count: 1.2k Author's note: This is probably as vulnerable as I'll ever write Sukuna :3

You tried to be strong. So long, so hard you tried to be untouchable. You knew sukuna hates weaklings. But you're in so much pain. You can barely swallow anything properly with how sore your throat is from the coughing. It takes so much out of you, physically and mentally, to pretend that this harrowing illness is nothing, and that you're somehow okay with it and ready to die. You're not. You don't want to die. You don't want this life that you've built with Sukuna to end. At least not as abruptly as it seems it will happen. One day you just can't pretend anymore.

Sukuna always asks if you're doing okay. He hopes that one day he'll hear you say yes. But you don't. You mutter a quiet no, and hope the topic would quickly. Not quickly enough. Because you break down crying. It starts small, your usual, timid little crying, but as you talk through it, the weight of your illness presses down on you like a rock - and you break. Loud, helpless. Hysterical bawling, the crying that leaves you breathless, the crying that drains you of everything you have and more.

And Sukuna doesn't know what to do - usually telling you to stop would work, because you would obey his every word, no questions asked. But this is different, this isn't your usual crying about something small, something you aren't allowed to do or something mean Sukuna said. This is a honest, heart wrenching breakdown that has been impending for a while. And he can't tell you to stop - because you can't stop. All he can do is hold you tight, and remind you to breathe.

There's nothing he can do. Healing you is a double edged sword, that provides relief, but at the cost of crashing hopes when the symptoms return. They always return. How useless of him. He can't properly comfort you because he's so detached from human emotions and interactions, he can't save you from this hardship... And he can hardly make it any easier. All he can do is sit with his guilt, little weeping you curled up in his arms, and... that salty drop of liquid that just escaped from his eye to his lip. What was that? Is he?... No, it's impossible.

Of course, reader falls asleep quickly after this. Sukuna stands up to leave, but he finds himself unable to part his stare from the bloody napkins and abandoned crochet projects by your bed. Tea gone cold and plates still full of food and sweets that you didn't have the strength to consume. Clothes untouched, folded neatly in your closet - you don't change out of your sleepwear anymore. The doorknob to the terrace, the one that leads to the garden you love so much, gathering dust after days, weeks of being unopened. You used to go into the garden every day. Your descent is slow, like that of a flower, whose petals slowly dry and detach, until none are left. His favorite flower, the one he loved to admire every day, at every opportunity. The type of flower that grows, blooms once in a hundred years and more.

And Sukuna is a stone, was a stone, stoic and unshaken for the longest time. But he is not as he was before. Love spares no one. Love leaves no one unchanged. He breaks.

You're in his lap in the garden, during one of the last sunny days of autumn. He stares into the distance, lost in thought as he often is, but... his face looks different. Tense, with his brows furrowed and his lips tight. He looks worried, almost sad. You ask him what he's thinking about, and he hesitates. There's a lump in his throat, and you hear it in his voice when he finally speaks. Nothing. He should've said nothing. What a fool.

He tells you he struggles to imagine life without you. And then he looks at you, and you feel it so vividly. A punch to your gut, a knife to your heart. Oh. You know you're dying, but if you had even the slightest of doubts, it's gone now that Sukuna is opening up to you. Sukuna and vulnerability don't exactly go hand in hand.

You sit up and plant a kiss to his shoulder. You tell him what you believe to be true - that the pain is fleeting, and that one day he will be complete again, alone or with someone else in your place. He frowns at you, once more unwilling to accept that scenario. But you want that for him. You truly, wholy believe that he is worth your - and anyone else's love. That he's beautiful, he keeps you safe, provides for you, pleasures you, listens to you - what more can anyone ask for? There's a thousand humans who would die for a chance to be loved like that, who would be just as genuine and grateful as you - and he crumbles, telling you to just shut up! He turns his head in another direction, facing you with the veins popping in his neck. He should've known you would try to make it better. He should've known you wouldn't let him wallow in his misery.

You crawl closer, reaching your hand for his face and trying to pull it towards you, but he doesn't budge. He holds his breath. He really doesn't want you to see him like this. Weak, pathetic.

Sukuna. You call him by his name. So intimate, forbidden. So personal you don't think you've ever called him that outside his bed, and even then it was pried off your lips, pulled from the depths of your conscience, out of your control. Anyone else would've paid for the mistake of uttering his name with their lives. But it's nothing new that you have privileges others don't.

Sukuna. You wrap your arms around him and lean into a hug, and he accepts it, squeezing you so tight he almost leaves breathless. You kiss up his neck, his cheek - wet, and his lips, almost trembling as they touch yours. There's so much more you want to tell him - but he shushes you. Kisses you again, tells you to forget it, it will be fine. You're not sure if he's saying it to you or to himself.

You tell him you know, that's what you've been trying to say the whole time. Then you smile at him, that angelic smile of yours, and smooth your hands over his face, wiping the frown off of his face. What a magical little being you are, he thinks to himself as he savors your beauty. You always had the power to take his anger and turn it into love.

No, Sukuna doesn't think that he could ever scoop up another little human like you out of the crowd. For a moment he thinks maybe it's better that you die, simply because he fears how far he would keep falling for you if nothing stopped him. He thinks maybe he would've become a different man. A better man. But your fate is sealed, and with it, any and all hopes for a changed Sukuna. Soon you will breathe your last breath, and Sukuna will once again be a monster, unbound by anyone or anything. Free of the confines that you've passed upon him - the heaviness of a human conscience. Closer to the man he was before he met you. But never, ever the same again.

[justanofficeworker]

MDNI! NSFW Soft!ghost x y/n First time together

You and Simon had been dating for nearly three years before the topic of sex came up. Between your inexperience and his trepidation towards intimacy things had been taken at an old snail’s pace. You were plain tired of it, experience or lack there of be damned you were going to rock your lover boy’s shit if it was the last thing you did. Which brings you to the present, grinding your hips down on Simon’s lap as he groans into your kisses.

“You’re sure you want to keep going love , you don’t have to prove anything to me” Simon asks breathlessly , his hands gripping your hips to slow your pace. “It’s fine” you say in a huff as you pull your shirt over your head “I’m ready, i want this , i want you. I want you as close as you can get” you finish, hands sliding up Simon’s chest , to his neck to cradle his face.

You can see the shiver as he takes a breath before moving his grip to the backs of your thighs and hauling you up. “Well aren’t you the modern poet” Simon laughs as he walks you to your shared bedroom. He doesn’t even set you down just leans over the bed as to cage you under him. “ if we are doing this , i want to do it right” he whispers into your neck before trailing his lips down your chest, stomach the stopping at the top of your lounge shorts.

“May I?” He waits for your nod before sliding your shorts down along with panties. “Look at her, is this pretty pussy all for me” he whispers in near reverence as he revels you glistening lips and clit. You whine as he blows cool air at it just to watch you twitch. “Just relax for me sweets, i know how to treat a bird right” he promises as he pushes your legs up , resting your calves on his shoulders. Slowly, he licks a stripe up your cunt, from entrance to clit, his warm tongue parting your folds with precision. A small , airy gasp escapes your mouth as he latches on to your clit, sucking softly at first , then harder. He switches between treating your clit like a lollipop and opening you up with his tongue adding fingers to his onslaught when he deems you wet enough.

"You are soaked" he groans as he rises up on his knees , lips catching yours in a blazing kiss that threatens to melt you from the inside out. " God, Simon" you say as you regain you breath. " God has no place in this room, nor between your thighs Love, do you understand me?" he say lowly , almost jealously. you nod dumbly, " good girl" he praises, setting butterflies loose in you stomach. He smirks, gripping his member and dragging it through you slick seam , gathering your pearly essence on it's tip. He meets your eyes before notching his manhood at your entrance.

The first thrust sends both of you hissing at the stretch. While not totally virginal it had been some time since you had had sex and Simon was nowhere near small. Slowly , inch by thick inch Simon pressed on , until he was fully seated inside you , all but pressed against your cervix. "So fu-ucking tight love, just for me. " he groans out slide your hand up his muscular arms to his face, pulling him forward into a searing kiss. You gasp and whine into the kiss, legs tight around his hips. "Please, you can fuck me now. Simon , baby i need you to move." you beg, Simon obliges, slowly pulling out to the tip before sicking back ti the hilt slowly.

With every thrust he picks up speed and strength til he is all but pounding into you. Your whines intermingling with his growls, for a second you hope your neighbors don't complain in the morning , but that thought is swiftly dashed from your mind as Simon slows down a bit. Like a man possessed he only manages one word before gripping the backs of your knees, slipping them from his hips and pushes them up towards your torso. "Deeper" is growled out as he slides back in, the new position unlocking some kind of extra-dimensional space inside you, that Simon will later call 'pussy magic'.

The new space hurts in biblical way, like if you had to cum and also pee at the same time. It burned like sun and yet made you feel as cold as the farthest planet, Simon was faring no better than you. Babbling nonsense, " gonna, gon-naa put a baby in this pussy. Gonna breed this cunt n' make it all mine. Fuuu-ck your all mine baby. Tell me you'r mine, love" . Every promise only serving to tighten the knot in the pit of your belly. you can hear pleas falling from your lips, not even sure what your begging for, the feeling reaching its peak before.

" Simon wait, ahh god Simon. I think I'm going to" you don't even finish the sentence before gush around Simon's cock, wetting you, him, the sheets. Nothing on the bed is spared your torrent. " let go f'me, just like that" Simon hiccups as your climax triggers his own , his thrust don't stop until hes emptied himself into you.

With a sigh, he slowly pulls out and lays his flushed body on top of yours. " you know this means we'll have to do laundry in the morning" he says lowly in your ear making you giggle.