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coconutdays · 4 months ago

Text

consume

s. in a world of ghouls and humans, you've got a crush on a really hot guy with tattoos, but that doesn't mean he's a ghoul right?

w.c. 5.9k

w. fem! reader, ghoul!sukuna! x reader , fluff!, smut!, cannibalism!, gore!

a/n: this is a continuance on this thought of mine :)I just wrote this to get this out of my system :/ don't think I cooked as I usually do! but feel free to indulge in ghoul sukuna to at least scratch the itch.

"is that him y/n?" your friend's eyes widen and she grabs you by the shoulders, staring into the void of your soul "go up to him. now."

you came for drinks with your friends just a couple minutes ago. and you were so unaware until now, that across from you is the random hot guy you always see on your way home.

your friend, the one bolstering you to go up to him, has heard of this crush. considering you can't spend a day without talking about the hotness of this man.

"I-I, " you start to stutter, "I shouldn't. I see him all the time around the neighborhood and he's never so much as bat an eye at me or acknowledged my presence."

"and I do not care," she huffs, turning you around and beginning to push you in his direction at the bar, "no guy is capable of rejecting your beauty when its waved right in front of their face."

you hear her huffing and can probably make out how flushed her cheeks are from going against your planted feet on the ground, scared to go up to the man nearing you, even though its you coming closer. you feel your heartbeat quicken by at least 50 beats and the adrenaline from such a simple act is rushing through your veins.

until you're there. and he's doesn't even move to face you, his eyes just dart to you.

"hi." you manage to choke out.

he smells like like leather and stone cold vanilla. it's a smell you won't be able to get out of your head tonight.

he looks like he's about to sigh and say something to send you walking away, but you speak again before he can dismiss you, possibly, "I think you're handsome and I wanted to talk to you."

"you looking for a quick fuck?" his voice rumbles so nonchalantly as he takes a sip of his whiskey

"no." you answer in a heartbeat, quickly moving your head from side to side as a sign of your counter to the idea, "I don't think I would be this nervous if I was just looking for that."

"Then what are you looking for?" He's suddenly looming over you, body now turned to face you and his early stance of dismissal gone. although you don't know if that's what you prefer now considering this is so much more intimidating. he's squinting his eyes at you just a tad and you can tell he's biting his cheek.

"something that doesn't hurt me." is all you can speak into existence, softly.

he stares at you

he stares at you for a long while, his brown eyes so light, they're almost red. it's intense and you don't know what he's playing at.

he gets up abruptly, the chair that was beneath him screeching, face unnerved when he reaches a hand out expectantly, "your phone."

your eyes widen and you fumble around for your phone before planting it in his hand.

"what's your name," he says as he presses what you suppose is his contact information into your phone.

you hear a ring coming from his back pocket when you answer, "y/n"

"sukuna," he replies back curtly before handing you back yours and moving to shut off his phone. he then takes out a ten dollar bill and puts it on the countertop before turning to leave, "stay with your friends, it's not safe on your own out there."

you hadn't noticed at all that your friend had left you to talk to the familiar stranger, sukuna now, at some point during the interaction. when you turned around, your group was staring between you and the ominous figure leaving as if they were watching a thriller movie and needed a bowl of popcorn to shove their hands into.

when you were on the way home by cab that night, you received a text, that seemed a manifestation due to how hard you prayed for the next buzz from your phone to be from him.

it was a curt reminder that he would meet you outside your apartment--that he also asked for the address of--the following morning so he could take you out. and nothing more. it was so curt, that although he was still inviting you out, you made it your mission to dress your most attractive the next morning.

you notice he's already outside of the door when peek your head out the door early, doubtful of how early he would be, which he was. sukuna had gotten there ten minutes beforehand, at the least. and although you weren't that mentally prepared to be out with him, you sucked it up and tried your best to confidently walk out the door when he noticed you.

"looks like we're both early," you joke a bit shyly, fiddling with the straps of your purse

"if you need more time you can go back up," he says, having straightened his posture from leaning against the wall and now looking at the busying street, as if to stay aware of his surroundings

"no it's okay, I've been ready for about half an hour now," you smile meekly in embarrassment

the comment makes him flick an eye to you, "should have told me."

"for?" you blink up at him, unaware

"for me to show up earlier," he clicks with his tongue before looking to the left and motioning for the both of you to start walking

it's about ten minutes into your silent walk to who knows where that you hear him speak again without previous poking, "you eat breakfast?"

"yes, actually! it was a lot so im still pretty full, considering the time."

"alright," he nods before locking eyes on something and placing a surprisingly gentle hand on the small of your back to maneuver you to your left, "it's here."

and the small entrance he guides you through leads to an immediate splash of greenery

a garden, a large one, surrounded by something you couldn't make out

"it's a bookshop."

and now you could make out the shelves through the surrounding windows

there's a number of different flowers surrounding you and you can't help but dash to a rather beautiful spawn of peonies.

"they're so beautiful!" you bite your lip in excitement, like you'd just seen a puppy. and that's when you spot a small pathway leading to a shrouded bench.

and you get an idea, "do you think they have Takatsuki in there?"

sukuna quirks a brow at you, "you like that insane shit?"

"I like creepy stuff." you blink at him, shamelessly stating the interest of yours

"come on," he juts his chin towards the far end of the garden, where the entrance was

moments later, you come out with a hardcover edition of The Black Goat's Egg you'd been vying for for months, purchased by sukuna, who asked, "that the one you want?" when you said yes, he plucked it from your hands and paid for it at the register.

"thank you." you say in appreciation when you set your purse down next to you on the bench, and flip to the beginning page of the book while sukuna adjusts himself next to you.

the handsome giant says nothing and instead drapes an arm over the side of the bench behind you and flicks his eyes towards the book, waiting for you to read like you'd promised so.

"you'll like it," you smile at him before subconsciously sinking just a little into his personal space and adjusting the book comfortably onto your lap, "ahem..."

you had been reading for about an hour and a half now, and sukuna showed no signs of distaste for the book. he hadn't said a word since the moment you started reading, listening and skimming over the book with you.

"mother's hands carved out the veins beneath his chest, not me. from her nails came the rotten smell of hardened blood. oh this is my favorite part. but I could feel the pulsing of his lungs on my hands. how his heart still beat when I had opened his chest. the breath of life beneath my palms, inhaling and exhaling. my excitement brewed, a woman's touch knew nothing of the enthrallment this brought me-"

grrrrrrrrrr

embarrassing

there's no way in hell your stomach just did that in front of him. you try to mutter a quick sorry and pick back up where you left off, but the moment you open your mouth again after the quick apology, sukuna interrupts you.

"it's time for you to eat."

why did he say that like you were some sort of pet.

he was such a serious speaker sometimes.

while you start to gather your things, sukuna already stands up and reaches a hand out for you to stabilize yourself on.

"I don't think its time time," you say while taking his hand, not wanting to go back to your apartment yet and finish reading yet, "I won't cook normally until another half hour from-"

"you said you liked the same type of pasta the guy was eating in the book right," he cut you off, levitating a hand over your shoulders that simply wooed you into stepping next to him at a comfortable pace while he moved for the both of you to cross the street.

"yeah..."you agreed, catching another whiff of his cologne in the breeze

and that's how you wound up with him ordering a full plate for you and a boring cup of coffee for himself moments later at a restaurant.

"you sure you're not hungry?" you questioned worriedly, eyes searching for any illness on him, scared to grab the fork before you

"I'm cutting, I'll cook at home." he shrugged

"cook what then?" you almost pout, feeling bad that you were going to be feasting in front of him while he merely had a coffee

he looked you dead in the eyes and said before taking a sip of his coffee, "steak."

"ghoul." you shot back while reaching for your fork and making towards the pasta

for the first time, you saw irritation on sukuna's face in the form of a twitch of his nose, "beef. steak."

he seemed so serious and you couldn't help but stick your tongue out playfully, "I know, but you might as well be one if you're that built from so much protein. heh."

sukuna let a tsk out and took a sip of his coffee, "eat your food."

you wound up getting walked home by sukuna later after the meal, a full stomach and new book, both provided by him upon your return.

"thank you again for the book" the corners of your lips quirked up a little cutely, "and for the meal too."

"you still need to eat something later tonight."

"I will" you nod and look up at him earnestly before reaching for his hand and gesturing for him to be level with you.

"goodbye," you land a quick peck on his cheek and let go of his hand, already rushing towards your building door and entering the code in as fast as possible. you couldn't look back, and didn't .

this pattern of dates repeats itself quite often after. sukuna's taken you to what seems like every bookstore in the city and purchased whatever makes your fancy every time. he's had you read for him. he's bought you every sweet and dessert you've wanted. he's brushed a crumb of a macaroon of your lips, carried you bridal style to avoid getting your shoes wet in a large street puddle, the most endearing things, albeit stoically, but

he's never kissed you

you think it has something to do with how stoic he is. maybe there's some sort of damage with him. he's so immersed whenever he's with you, learning and observing you, but it's always felt as if he's keeping part of himself watered down with you.

a hint of snarkiness has left him before, you saw so when a little girl in a park punched an older boy for yanking on her pigtail.

and he never takes you out at night. he hasn't specifically said he doesn't want to go out during the late hours of the afternoon or night, but he always manages to schedule your outings to end before so.

it's why you bite the bullet, and make today's lunch, into a dinner hosted by you, with the convenient excuse that your work asked you to come in for finishing touches on a project you'd be presenting next week and couldn't make it to lunch.

sukuna agreed with no qualms, that you couldn't see through the screen of your phone of course, and even asked if you needed any ingredients.

your chicken had already been in the oven for about twenty minutes when he had knocked on your door--you had texted him the code to your building earlier.

"hi." you breathed, opening the door for him to come in, "I put this chicken recipe I found online to bake. it's supposed to be healthy."

sukuna walked further into your apartment and analyzed his surroundings while you yapped away.

"it's probably not like the steak you eat, maybe less in protein, but I think you'll like it. I don't think I could make steak that good for someone else on the first try..."

"your hand," he slightly quirks a brow up and gestures towards your right hand, two bandages on your middle and pointer finger.

"tomato dicing mishap," you give him a sheepish closed mouth smile while raising your hand up, "it's a bit more annoying than a paper cut. bleeds more than one."

"I could order for here-"

"no! it's okay. I'm done anyway. I need to take out the chicken in a bit anyways." and you move to grab the controller to your tv, "do you have anything in mind you want to watch?”

“the news.”

you slightly furrow your brows, but accommodate to his request then leave the controller on the coffee table, "you see something happen?"

"just don't like not knowing what's going on," he huffs gruffly while eyeing the ongoing news report for the day.

"A ghoul has atrociously murdered and consumed various members of our community. last night's victim is unidentifiable, but his age can be estimated to be about thirty. surveillance cameras near the area show no capture evidence of who could have done this, but reports and evidence point to it being the same perpetrator of the last couple of murders this month-"

you walk to your oven to get the chicken out and start to put on your mittens, "at least it's not girls."

sukuna's eyes flicker towards you, interested in what you're saying, "you should be scared."

you're setting the hot pan on the countertop when you look back at him, eyes clean of any fear, "but he's been eating shit guys."

sukuna turns his body to you and crosses his arms, as if he's about to chew your ear off for saying that, but you continue, moving to plate the food for both of you, "all the bodies they've reported are all well distinguished low life perverts, some have even tried to chase me down when I say no. one of them tried taking a picture under my skirt once."

you place the plates on either side of the dining table for the both of you and sit down, "whatever ghoul that's getting his full with them doesn't scare me. we know he eats a lot, if those guys weren't enough, he'd go for girls already. and before you bite my head off for not being scared, you should know by now that I rarely go out at night, especially not without someone with me. now sit, food's ready."

sukuna eyes moves towards the dining table and eyes your dish a bit wearily as he slides his chair out for him to sit on.

when he sits, you speak again, "I got the recipe from one of those super healthy bodybuilders, so it should be good enough for you. plus, I'm a good cook."

sukuna still stairs into the void, where our plate should be, but he makes for the knife and fork you put for him, "thank you."

and he enjoyed it, you think. he didn't say it was good, but he finished his plate diligently. if he hated it, he would have said something, or shown it on his face.

"I'll wash the dishes," he said when you were about to reach for his plate and instead he took both of yours and got up.

"oh, okay," you observed as he turned on the faucet, his back to you, he looked out of place in the small spot, "I can start putting a movie, you liked when I read Howl's Moving Castle, I have the movie for it."

You looked for a response, and you received one in the form of a nod, so you stood up and sat on the couch, looking through your streaming services.

sukuna finishes faster than you expected

"I need to take a piss," he says as he walks towards the restroom

"okay," you responded without hesitation as you tried to restart the movie considering your streaming service was glitching on you and the movie was already in the ends credits--you watched it that often.

you solved the problem quicker than you thought, because when sukuna comes back from peeing, you've already got the movie paused at the beginning, waiting for him to sit so you can press play.

and when he does sit, it's at a distance from you, which you don't make a comment about because hey, maybe he's just a guy with boundaries.

and it's halfway through the movie that you have barely even paid attention to your favorite movie of all time. the music you always enjoy and look forward to seems to have never reached your ears. the funny antics by Calcifer don't elicit a giggle from you.

"why haven't you tried to kiss me?"

is he even attracted to you? because you have boundaries and you're a woman, but

you want his hands on you for more than just protection or help. you want to know what it feels like to sit on his lap, that you're sure is more comfortable than your couch considering how meaty and large he is.

and now you're in silence, even though the tv must be at more than the recommended volume setting.

"do you want me to?" sukuna asks, still watching the movie, but you can tell his attention is entirely on you

"I wouldn't be saying anything if I didn't want you to..." you breathe, cursing yourself for bringing such an awkward situation upon the both of you. the movie seems as if its not being processed by your eyes even though you're staring at it, too scared to look at him.

the need to backtrack overcomes you and you feel like you need to overexplain your lack of manners and how he should disregard what you're saying when-

he's tilted your chin towards him

and his mouth is on yours

its beyond sensual and you can feel your thighs shift against each other, but nowhere is it an intense roughness.

he's a godsend, you think, right as he pulls away and gets up.

you're dazed and confused as he walks to your door

"I preferred when you read the book to me," he states monotonously while he shrugs his leather jacket on and opens the door.

"I'll send for a dessert for you later." he's halfway through the doorway and his back is to you, "don't finish it all if you still feel full. your cramps get worse with sugar."

"my cramps-"

he shuts the door and you're left dumbfounded in your living room

oh. he must've seen the packaging of your pad thrown in the restroom bin.

later that night, there was a large helping of warm churros that a guy delivered to your apartment building.

you img_786 thank you, they're really good

sukuna don't finish all of it

you I won't <3

and then he's gone

for a month you haven't heard from him

you shouldn't be rotting in your bed this often, but you are. you don't want to frequent out unless its with him. the few bookstores you did know before him, and went to after with him are sickeningly wrapped in the ambience of him.

going out at night reminds you that he didn't like when you were out at night, sending punctual texts about whether you were home or not

the walk home, where you got excited to even see him for a second is a disdainful reminder of him.

and you feel so ridiculed

the last time you talked, it was because you technically asked for a kiss that he ended up giving

but then walking away and going home.

it hurt your ego

you ran out of matcha tea a bit before sundown. it was a calming drink for you, something you'd been finding comfort it especially during this time.

so you left your apartment to go to the grocery store in your neighborhood. it was a weekday, so the streets weren't all that crowded, everyone was already on the way home.

it was a quick trip, you came out with a tin of matcha and a tub of ice cream, but the sun was halfway through its descent back into the night.

nothing would happen. ghouls don't lurk the moment the sun sets.

your apartment is around the corner when you hear a familiar voice.

"don't move unless you want me to eat your kagune."

why does that sound a lot like him?

there was a sort of mushy sound that followed, then a painful groan

or screech, you couldn't tell the the difference from how pained it was

"please sukuna! I-I didn't know-"

a scream followed, along with a grotesque noise

he said sukuna's name? is that-

"AHAHAHAA LOOK AT HOW FUCKED UP YOUR LUNGS ARE! BASICALLY SHREDS IN MY HANDS!"

it's undeniably his voice, but you've never heard him like this.

if you could just get a look, turn your head over the alleyway just a little

you almost vomit at the sight.

the man you had been moping over for the past few weeks had four large tentacles for a kagune, bright blood red and pinning down the man beneath him, who's lungs unmistakably were in sukuna's hands.

he was eating it like it was something easy, like a slice of ham

the other man-ghoul's intestines were spilling out onto the ground

and all you could do was stand still.

"I didn't know she was off-limits!" the ghoul cried, tears running down his half eaten face considering he was missing a piece of cheek.

"doesn't matter," sukuna retorted, digging a hand in again and taking out what looked like a liver, "what were you going to do to her huh?"

he took a bite and spoke with a full mouth in his face, "I know what lowlife creeps like you like to do to girls like her."

"and how are they supposed to stop coming if I let every creep that wanders near her live?"

and upon further inspection, you realize that the guy underneath him spoke to you this morning on the subway. he made uncomfortable conversation about your skirt and you got off the moment he started getting too close to your personal space

unbeknownst to you, you start shaking and your breath hitches

sukuna hears it

when he turns to face you, where the noise came from, his eyes are red this time, the whites blackened. he's breathing hard as he stares you down.

"go. home." is all he snarls menacingly

and no matter how hard you want to plant your feet and say no because you're mad at him, you run back home. the minute that was left in walking home became twenty seconds.

how you wound up at your apartment that fast was a wonder to you. but all you know is that so many things are making sense, but not at the same time.

that ghoul was going to come for you if it wasn't for sukuna. was sukuna the ghoul from the news? had he eaten all those men? god, you can't even remember all the times you've been cat-called or bothered on the street. how long had he been doing this?

"open the door."

you're back to reality at the sound of sukuna behind the door to your apartment

maybe if you pretend you're not-

"I can hear your heart beating, open the door."

"I don't want to!" you try not to yell, speaking as firmly as you can so as to not garner unwanted attention.

"if you open the door," he starts to speak with irritation that so tells you theres a just as irritated smile on his face, "I can explain to you."

"why do you want to talk now?" you stomp your foot on the ground, praying that the inertia stops the tears building on your waterline from falling down your cheeks

"open the door and I'll tell you y/n." he says, patience still wavering

he stares you down menacingly when you abruptly open the door, but you've got your own look to challenge, brimming with almost tears and an anger like no other at how he hurt you

"I told you to not go out at night."

"how long ago was that huh?" you retort

sukuna bites his cheek and enters your apartment, planting himself in the farthest corner of your living room to argue with you.

"you still know better." he gestures a hand to the window, outside, "I don't care if there's still a couple minutes before the sun sets. don't go outside."

"why not, you'll be there to eat anyone who lurks near me."

your nose is scrunched at him in anger and for the first time, it looks like he has nothing to say

"were you the ghoul from the news the other night?" you sniffle

sukuna looks at you with dead irritation, like he has a million things to say, but none at the same time.

"are you trying to keep me to yourself? to eat me on a rainy day, like a special treat? is that why you couldn't bare to date me? because I was just food?"

"no." he bites back, arms crossed, tongue poking through his cheek while his head moves to face the other way

"then?" you waiver, hands dropped to the sides of your body in fists.

"I'm a ghoul," his red eyes dart to you, pinning you under his gaze," you're a human."

"you can't stand that I'm a human?" you step back, hurt

it seems your words confund him to irritation again when he responds, "you just saw me eating someone's lungs."

"he was going to eat me." you reason

"you're an idiot..." he scoffs, tapping his foot impatiently on the ground

"then why are you still here?" you bite back

your retaliation seems to have set him off, because he soon starts walking towards you and pins you under his body and the countertop behind you

"I was born to eat you," he snarls close to your face, "I will find a way to break you. it's nature. every single day, all I can think about is how much I want to sink my teeth into your flesh. does that not scare you?"

"maybe that's because you never tried to take out your urges on me in other ways." you murmur defiantly

the comment makes him stand still, leaving both of your breaths as the only sound in the room.

"you don't know what you're saying." his nose twitches

"neither do you, you've never tried."

his hands are gripping the countertop so hard, you can hear a slight crumble.

but then sukuna's breathing grows ragged and it would have alarmed you, were it not for his following actions.

his arms brings your entire body towards him when he envelopes you in a nasty kiss.

this

this was sexual

his chest grumbles when you stick your tongue into his mouth and he sucks on it painfully

the bliss is so entrancing, you can't even distinguish the metallic taste.

one of his hands goes to envelop your ass and the grip he has is so strong and painful that you think he's made finger sized holes in your jeans.

the moan that leaves you is far too sinful, but he pulls you impossibly closer and grabs you by the back of your legs to pull you up. sukuna then starts walking to the only other door that doesn't lead to the restroom. to your room.

he'd just bitten your lip to the point where you're sure it'd be bruised within an hour when he threw you onto the bed and yanked your pants off. you don't know if he tore them off or genuinely took them off, but all you know is that the sight when he takes off his shirt next is magnetizing. his body is sculpted and defined everywhere, his pecs are huge, his abs scrumptiously lining his abdomen, and his v-line makes you eager to jump on top of him.

but his tattoos, they're the cherry on top. there's two ragged lines, almost as if fangs scraping down his abdomen, and they seem as if they have brothers and sisters reaching to do the same down his pecs and on the small of his neck. you know about the others on his arms, but not these.

"take off your shirt before I rip it off and you start whining about it." he growls while he fiddles with his belt to push down his pants

you follow orders, no care for if he did rip your shirt (in the moment), but eager to have him

the hard on you're greeted with is just below terrifying.

were all ghouls this gifted?

you have a feeling this was just sukuna

"still feel like you can take it." sukuna snarls as he pushes you further up the bed and positions himself between your legs.

you don't even get a chance to make a comment on what he's about to so intimately do before he tears through the fabric separating your pussy from the outside and delves in without so much as a second thought.

not even ten seconds in and your legs are shaking furiously, with no stop to it so as long as he was on top of you

his tongue is penetrating you so deeply and you don't even have time to question if that's a biological feature on ghouls. all you know is that's it's wet and oh so stimulating, so much so, you're screaming and whining

there's no words you can say, you're screaming so much from the pleasure that you instinctively start to pull away from him, but he growls and keeps you in place

he's been staring at you this entire time

with those eyes

mercy be

it's just enough to drag you to the tipping point and your relief washes over you and him, while he drinks it all up ferociously.

you think he's going to stop when it feels like he's licked you clean from your mess

until he doesn't

he goes on

and he goes on for what seems like an hour

you feel you've gone insane, you can't even count how many times he's made you cum since. you've never been destroyed this way.

your voice is gone when he comes up and stares at you, caging you between his arms.

you're not going to tap out, you try to say with your eyes

and he understands, as it seems, hiking up both of your legs to your chest and beginning to run his fat tip across your folds

"remember, you asked for this." sukuna mutters meanly when he pushes in in one go

you thought it was a lie when some girls said their boyfriends were so big, that they could feel their veins rubbing against their insides

it wasn't

even his tip is being molded to by your pussy

"oh my god," you moan painfully, "I can't-i'm gonna-"

"you can," he retorts, starting to pull back and the mere drag has you keening

you think you have the same effect, considering how labored his breathing has gotten and there's nothing left for you to do besides pull him in for a kiss to sedate yourself from the intensity happening below

the single beginning of the contact illicits sukuna's start of a ruthless pace

your moans seem to make him suck on your tongue punishingly every time. and your hands can't find nothing else to do besides drag painfully down his back. you think you might have just hurt your own hands from how hard his skin is.

sukuna stops kissing you while he pummels inside of you to speak

"scream for me."

command or not, you were still doing so

"filthy little slut," he groans through each stroke, "tightest fucking pussy I've ever fucked."

"pussy's fucking mine, you're never going to touch anyone else. if you even try, I'll kill them."

he keeps going like this, on and on and all you can do is nod and agree with everything he says, because let's be honest, who were you to even glance at someone else after this?

you notice purple indents forming where his hands are on your thighs when he leans down to your face and says, "whaddya say princess, you like being mine?"

"mhm," you nod ernestly, and gather the courage to speak, even if it is hoarse, "love it so much sukuna."

"gonna blow a huge fucking load in your pussy," he murmurs to himself more than anything

"plea-please." you moan needing to be as close to him as possible, feeling an idea surface to your mind

"bite me."

if sukuna weren't so depraved and lost in you, he would have stopped. but he keeps going and instead leans closer to hear you

"bite me," you breathe, almost screaming at the end, "just enough for it not to scar."

sukuna keeps staring at you while he destroys your insides, giving no indication as to if he was going to do follow through with your wishes, until he leans down to your chest

you scream in pain and a delicious ecstasy

there's a small little pool of blood coming from your skin and his mouth when you look down. his hips start stuttering too, and it makes you think that this might be his tipping point.

you're so fucked up that it's yours too

before you know it, his pace grows so erratic that you start cumming and pulsating around him sporadically, unable to contain yourself from the pleasure.

and he starts cumming too.

sukuna lifts himself up from your chest and captures your mouth in his, making you taste a part of yourself you never thought you would. he grows weak in the kiss too, while his cum seeps out and pools into you. it lets you nibble on his tongue, an action that him sinking into your body while he gives you a last few weak thrusts.

"ow," you giggle after a moment of silence

sukuna brings his head up quickly, eyes slightly wide and in worry

"how am I gonna wear a bra over that," you laugh, observing the bleeding bite mark over your boob

sukuna looks down at it, "just don't wear one."

"boobs bring perverts."

sukuna rolls his eyes in exhaustion and dips his head into your chest, licking your wound, "you're not going anywhere without me there anyway."

#sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x you #sukuna ryoumen smut #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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lumibuns-blog · 2 months ago

Text

Ghost x Soap's roomie

Ghosts and Gaz stay the week and Soap's apartment. Ghost falls head over heels for you and can't seem to think of anything else.

its just two idiots in love at this point and also Soap and Gaz are there too lmao. I have more for this concept on my page or under the tag if you like it💪

Dinner was finished quicker than Simon would have preferred considering he still couldn't get the image of your sly smile out of his head, not to mention the piece of food he was sure was stuck in his throat from the laughing fit you had sent him and Gaz into with your well timed nut-tap. You were intoxicating to him, it was almost insufferable how unable he was to get your voice, your face, your figure, everything, out of his head. He could swear that he's never felt this way before about anyone, ever. It was like the moment he set eyes on you, his mind had made itself up and all he could do was let himself fall even further and further in love with you.

So he now watched as you forced a very upset Soap to do the dishes, not without great effort.

"aw 'bon why tha' hell do I have'ta do this shite it's fuckin feechie" he whined

"'cause I do the cooking, that's the deal we have" you bit back "plus, I've cleaned our bathroom before" you turned to face both Simon and Kyle, Simon couldn't help but notice he was the one you locked eyes with "you wanna see nasty, use the shower when he's finished" you sighed

"oye! Not fair" Johnny warned, an accusing finger pointed towards you "you shed more than a hound when 'ure in there, ya clog the damn drain"

"excuse me! I clean up after myself at least, any hair you find in there is yours!" you yelled back, clearly embarrassed

"nae, ma' hair ain't long with split ends, er' whateva' the hell 'ure always moanin' 'bout in there"

you had half a mind to hit him across the face for that, "I don't know, hairs getting a little long there princess" you teased, gesturing to his grown out mohawk "need to get it trimmed? or you worried they might leave you looking bald again like last time?" you grinned

"awe no way!" Gaz grinned "you got pictures?" he ran over to you. Simon was curious too but didn't make a show of it, settling to sit back with his arms crossed instead, surveying the chaos.

"sure do" you beamed, ready to pull out your phone

"Naw naw!" Johnny scrambled to intercept his friend "nae happenin'"

you flung the phone behind you, out of his reach "then wash the fucking dishes man" you scoffed, shoving the sponge into his chest "thought they called you Soap for a reason?"

"feckin whatever" Johnny groaned, returning to the sink and flicking the tap on

you beamed and turned to head towards your room, calling out your dibs on the shower. Not before holding your phone up to Kyle and Simon, mouthing an 'I'll show you later' before slipping out of view.

"cheeky little mother fucker..." Soap mumbled, the half smile on his face turning into a look of disgust as he touched some wet food.

"so...." Gaz started after a moment "Never did decide where we 'going to be sleepin' mate?"

"well 've only got two beds" Johnny said, back turned to his friends "an' mine can only fit one a you's plus ma'self" he continued "an' like -ell I'm not going to sleepin on 'ma own bed while 'm home , so one ya will have-tae take the couch" he paused "unless the other one wants to bunk up with 'er" he laughed

Simon froze simply at the idea, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable in his slacks at the thought of being right up next to you while you rested. If you were closer would be be able to put his hands of you? trace the contours of your waist with his finger tips, burry his nose in the back of your head and wrap his hulking arms around your smaller figure? Feel the curve of your ass as you pressed against-

he bit the inside of his cheek and gripped the counter top so hard his knuckles turned white, "I'll take the couch" he huffed "'ure smaller anyway" he gestured to Kyle

"Whateva' mate" Gaz rolled his eyes, taking his friends jab in stride.

You had claimed dibs of the shower first because you were well aware that three, probably filthy, men (all of which had to be over 6 feet) were bound to need to use it as well and it would be pointless to try and wash your hair after that disaster.

"I'm done!" you called absentmindedly from the hallway, a towel wrapped around your body, wet hair sticking to your neck and back. Simon had found a very interesting part of the ceiling to focus on while you went back to your room, "try to not blow the thing up, I've got a down payment on this thing" you said, closing the door behind you.

silence fell over the room once again, as all three men glanced between themselves. Gaz was first, he took off at a run towards the bathroom door, determined to be second. Soap started off not more then a moment after him,

"aye ya prick, it's my house this?!" he grabbed for Gaz who held on steady to the door

"exactly mate! we're the guests!" Kyle chided "so be a good host 'an bugger off!"

"Nae 'm not lettin' you's skimp me outta a hot shower" Soap yelled attempting to pull Gaz back, but the man had such a a tight hold on the door he might've pulled out the hinges first.

you reopened the door after hearing the chaos, still in only a towel "the hell is-?" you were cut off almost immediately by ghost stepping in, he grabbed them both by the back collars of their shirts with what seemed like minimal effort, and pulled them off each other.

"Gaz you go first," he growled "Johnny, at least finish drying the bloody dishes before you go runnin' off" he shoved your roommate back into the kitchen

"Lt.! 's no fair he's goin' first! Why do you get to decide?" Soap griped

"on base 'er not, 'm still in charge." Simon said plainly, narrowing his eyes towards his friend, "just be lucky I'm the one yellin' at you for tusslin' around inside"

"In 'ma own home!" Johnny threw his hands up in defeat as Gaz pumped his fist before closing the bathroom door.

for a moment, your eyes met Simon's as you peaked from behind your door and they lingered there. His gaze was so was piercing as he glared from above his mask, that he had (unfortunately) put back in after dinner. His eyes only remained that way for a moment however, for as soon as they met yours, they softened. The harsh lines fell away instantly and his pupils began to dilate when they met yours, not aware you had been watching the whole ordeal.

'why did his eyes have to be so pretty?'

He coughed quickly, tearing his gaze from you before returning to the kitchen himself. Leaving you awe struck, fanning your face behind the closed door of your room.

When it was finally time for him to take a shower, Simon allowed himself a moment of respite in the bathroom before actually cleaning himself off. Away from Johnny's teasing glances and their incessant banter that he hated to admit he had come to be too fond of to reprimand them for, and they knew that all to well. Above all else though, it was a moment to internally process seeing you in nothing but a towel because when he had tried to think it over out there, the evidence of that was all too noticeable. You had looked so fucking good, wet hair, glossy skin, that towel that did absolutely nothing to cover up the swell of your tits as you pressed it to your chest. Even the simple fact that your cheeks still flushed from the heat of the shower sent his whole body into overdrive.

'shit- right, the shower.'

He broke from his thoughts to finally enter the shower but that did nothing to aid him in his situation. On the ledge was your shampoo and various other soaps, much like how your side of the sink was covered in various products and bottles he couldn't name even if he tried. Johnny's side had a toothbrush that was joined by Gaz's wash bag, and that was it. In the shower however, he only saw what were clearly your products. He grumbled and opened the door just a crack,

"Either 'a you got any shower gel?" He yelled through the crack, rather embarrassed at his current situation, "lef' mine at base."

"jus' use 'er's!" Johnny called back from his spot on the couch "'s what I do anyway..."

"You what?!" you yelled from across the flat

"dumbass" Kyle scoffed

"kidding, kidding!" Johnny laughed "Mines the one with the green lid mate, ya don' see it?"

"Fuckin hell...neva'mind!" Ghost responded, closing the door again. He swore he wasn't seeing straight. It didn't help that the whole bathroom already smelt like you, your intoxicating scent invading every breath he took. But to use your products? That was some shit couples do, and he had to stop his mind from getting away from him with that fantasy.

Stepping into the shower once more he located Johnny's soap. Spring rain?, no fucking wonder he hadn't noticed it, who would've thought Soap would use something like this? He quickly washed himself and got dressed, rubbing his hair dry with a towel as he exited the bathroom.

You stood in the kitchen, a large sweatshirt dwarfed your frame. You seemed to be waiting for the kettle of the stove to heat up as you noticed his presence.

"oh I can take that" you smiled, walking over to him and holding out your hand to take his towel from him.

He very reluctantly gave it to you, worried it would smell bad or have something gross on it he hadn't even realized. "was just about to start another lode anyway" you chimed, opening up the closet door and throwing it in the machine before starting it.

Simon couldn't help himself "Colors I'm assuming?" he joked

you whipped around to face him "Now don't you start" you scolded, but the smile and deep red of your cheeks was unmistakable, "Johnny's enough to deal with on his own" you headed back to your kettle

"'m sorry, I'll try to be less of a pain in the arse to ya than he is" Simon chuckled

"that's a low bar" you laughed dully "but thank you"

Simon found conversation to flow freely with you, like it does with the rest of his team but only after he had gotten close to them. He had only known you for a day but still found it so natural to speak to you (if he ignored the deafening sound of his heartbeat and the massive lump in his throat).

"want any tea?" your offer broke the silence as you grinned and held up the now boiling kettle.

"uh- sure" he nodded, was his heart getting louder?

you tossed open one of the cupboards "pick your poison" you chirped, gesturing the stocked shelf of teas.

he rounded the island to inspect the selection, peering over you in such a way that his form eclipsed yours and forced you to move back against the counter top. You held your breath.

"'ere" he handed a small tin containing a non-caffeinated herbal blend down to you and stepped away "is it any good?" he asked, pointing lazily at the tin that you now held.

you tried to shrug your flustered feelings away "Better be, 's what I'm having" you turned to grab him a mug from the shelf.

Simon smiled to himself at the knowledge he picked the same type of tea as you purely by coincidence. Moments later you were handing it to him, "here ya go Ghost" you said placing the hot mug in front of him

"Simon." he responded plainly

"Hm?" you tilted your head a bit

"Simon's fine, ya don't need to be calling me that 'Ghost' shit 'ere" he was staring holes into the kitchen island, wondering if it was weird for him to be asking you to call him by his given name.

"Alright, Simon it is then" you beamed, not missing a beat

christ his name sounded so good when you said it

"sorry guess it was just habit, seeing as thats what Johnny calls you whenever he's home"

"'s fine" he mumbled, a brief pause hung in the air as you both took your first sips of tea. You were right, it was good.

"where they at anyway?" Simon tried to fill the silence

"probably giggling under the covers by now" you scoffed "why? trying to get rid of me?" you joked

"'s not it" Simon answered quickly

"I know I know- I'm just teasing" you smirk "Johnny told me you were a bit quiet so don't feel pressured to talk 'er anything"

He appreciated the sentiment, but not talking to you was possibly the last thing he wanted to do right now. "What else does the little twat say?" Simon asked, a little gruffer than he intended to sound, but his reputation was on the line here.

"Oh just stories from all the dangerous stuff you all get up to, usually the ones where he can say he was the hero" you fully laughed and it sounded like music to Simon's ears "That and he complains about all the work he has to do, usually when he wants to get out of chores"

"sounds 'bout right" Simon smiled lightly and you could have sworn it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

At least you didn't think he was some sulking, menacing, edge-lord. I mean he most certainly was most times but he would really prefer it if you didn't think of him like that. Now he just had one more thing to clear up.

"jus' so ya know... I- I didn't use your body wash" he practically had to shove the words out of his mouth he was so tense, but to his surprise you just laughed.

You smiled brightly and waved your hand dismissively, "Don't worry I didn't think you had, I don't blame you for not finding his soap though" you held your mug close to your chest and smiled fondly "He used to use that Head and Shoulder's stuff, you know the one? Anyway, it was nasty so I got him some better stuff and he actually likes it, even if he complains he smells 'like a chick' now" you put that last part in air quotes.

"fair", the soap Simon used on base was Head and Shoulder's. He made a mental note to throw it out and get better stuff the second he got back.

Conversation flowed freely for the next couple minutes as you both finished your drinks, you mostly asked about what it was like living on a military base and he asked about a bit about your graduate studies. Happy just to learn anything about you. When you set your empty mug down on the kitchen counter, he silently glided over with his own and took your mug in his other hand, filling them with water in the sink.

"you really don't have to do that, but thank you" you smiled softly, a yawn escaped you, feeling the tiredness begin to catch up with you.

"don't mind it" he dried his hands off with the kitchen towel. When he looked back at you his heart swelled. you were smiling lightly in the dimly lit kitchen, eyes squinting from even that being too much light. You swayed back and forth slowly, heading nodding slightly every couple of moments. He felt bad for keeping you up but more than that he wished he could just pick you up and whisk you off to bed, curling up next you you and letting you snuggle into his chest. But there was no way he could do something like that, not now anyway, so he settled for the next option

"you look like you're about to fall over love, off to bed now" he said, his voice quiet and gentle as patted you on the back and steered you towards your room.

"aye aye captain" you lazily saluted him and he couldn't help but smile "let me know if ya need anything" you called from the hall "night!"

"yeah g'night" he groaned, shoving himself onto the couch that was much too small for him. He would rather freeze than make you get up to get him another blanket or something. And even though he felt perfectly comfortable he couldn't seem to get to sleep, his heart was just too loud.

*I might make Price come over to give the boys something they left behind just so he can meet/flirt with reader and Simon and get all grumpy and jealous cuz it would be cute <3

Tags:

@sleep101 @urbimom @noisydelusionlove @plk-18 @pinkyfqiry @wwe1rdc0re @vmaxis @jenlvr01 @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @ifsunmibts @callmeluno @nina-from-317 @strawberrygateau @leryg0 @weemansoap @dreamtofus @imjustheretofightforlove @electricmentalitypersona

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readwritealldayallnight · 1 month ago

Text

Learning

Simon ��Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 1k words

warnings/tags: fluff

“Said it would’ve made too much of a mess. Waste o’ his money.” Simon says, slopping another spoonful of pumpkin guts into the large bowl in the middle of the kitchen table. Your usual table cloth has been switched out with an array of this weeks newspaper, the black and white print covered in the sticky remnants of your idea of fun on a Friday before Halloween.

“Not even one?” You attempt to pose the question casually, hoping to disguise the sadness in your tone, concealing the way your heart breaks at the thought of a young Simon Riley having never carved a pumpkin, his father not even allowing him to partake in that simple tradition so many others enjoy.

“S’alright, lovie.” He says, seeing right through you and recognizing the hurt you hold for him, an indication of your longing to only see love and joy in his life. If only you knew that’s everything you give him. “Did watch a mate o’ mine shoot his pellet gun at some pumpkins one year, if that makes you feel any better.”

You roll your eyes at his attempt to make you laugh, digging your spoon a little harder into the sides of your own gourd as if it were the one to have wronged you.

“Well then I’m glad I ignored you and got them anyways.” You declare, giving each pumpkin a loving little pat on its side. Simon had told you outside the grocery store, seeing your eyes land on the bright orange displays outside the shop, that they weren’t necessary.

But the both of you knew he would never deny you anything you wanted, and so he ended up carrying the two large pumpkins under each bicep and to the car himself, not letting you lift a finger.

“How’s the inside of yours looking?” You ask him, coming around to his side of the table, affectionately running a hand through the strands of hair at the base of his skull, glancing into the pumpkin he tilts in your direction for you to see. You can feel a shiver go through him at your touch, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

You’re glad he’s home with you, where he can relax, allow his biggest stresses to be his girlfriend ogling his arms as he carved open the tops of pumpkins and gutted them with efficiency.

“You’d have to tell me, love, but I think that’s as empty as it’s gettin’.” He emphasizes by tapping his spoon on the side of the sphere, listening to the dull, hollow echo it gives.

“Looks perfect. Nice work, Simon.” You tell him, planting a quick kiss to his cheek before hopping back over to your seat, leaving him looking a few shades redder than before. “Know what you’re gonna carve?”

“It’s- it’s just a face, innit?” At your question, Simon finds himself pausing. He might have had a different childhood than most, but he wasn’t daft, he knew what a jack o lantern was supposed to look like. Carved eyes, a wicked grin or large frown, sometimes even a nose in between them both.

He didn’t consider himself to be a crafty person, but he’d been a butcher for crying out loud, he could carve some shapes into a pumpkin until it resembled a face, no problem. So why are you asking him about what he’s going to carve.

“Well yeah, that’s the go to, for sure. A classic.” You reassure him, noticing the slight tension returning to his shoulders. “You can carve a face, my love. Some people just do different, they get creative with it.” Shrugging, you grab the marker you’d set aside, beginning to map out the lines for where you plan on carving your own design. You’re distracted, eyes darting between your sketching and your phone where you’ve got the inspiration photo pulled up for reference.

You don’t notice Simon’s eyes squinting ever so slightly at you before darting to the pumpkin in front of him. ‘Get creative with it’? Is that what you’re doing? Is that what you’re expecting him to do? Hoping he’ll do? He glances over at you again and notices you’ve got a bloody reference photo and everything??

He finds his cheeks beginning to burn for a different reason now, feeling stupid over not realizing you could carve more than the standard jack o lantern faces as a tradition. Obviously, you can carve anything you want into a fuckin’ pumpkin, he just didn’t know, he hasn’t done this before, and now he’s gone from feeling almost confident to worried he’s about to make a fool out of himself over something as childish as this.

“Simon.” You say, always more in tune with him than he realizes. “It’s okay, carve anything you want. I’m excited to see what you make.” You smile warmly at him across the table, a small socked foot going to nudge his ankle as well. “Believe it or not, this is supposed to be fun.”

He scoffs at your joke but doesn’t fight the smile that etches onto his face in return. He accepts your distraction when you ask if you should put on some music in the background, walking towards the record player. As he flips through the stack of vinyls, he thinks about just that, what he could possibly carve into that bloody orange sphere sat on his kitchen table, that would be fun.

Searching through any memories he considers as being ‘fun’, he finds a common factor: you. And there’s one more reoccurring element sewn into the fabric of those treasured memories as well: your laughter.

With that in mind, it’s actually quite easy for Simon to decide on what he’ll do finally. And almost an hour later, after you’ve put your blood, sweat and tears into your own pumpkin carving and deciding that the results ended up being just meh, Simon has decided that he’s undeniably the winner of the evening when he spins his creation around and has you nearly crying with laughter, insisting between wheezed breaths that he’s going to make you pee your pants, only leading to Simon’s own laughter bellowing out.

Not too bad for his first time learning.

~~~~~~~~~~

(The kind of pumpkin I’ve decided Ghost would carve 😂)

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katrafiy · 2 years ago

Text

I think about this image a lot. This is an image from the Aurat March (Women's March) in Karachi, Pakistan, on International Women's Day 2018. The women in the picture are Pakistani trans women, aka khwaja siras or hijras; one is a friend of a close friend of mine.

In the eyes of the Pakistani government and anthropologists, they're a "third gender." They're denied access to many resources that are available to cis women. Trans women in Pakistan didn't decide to be third-gendered; cis people force it on them whether they like it or not.

Western anthropologists are keen on seeing non-Western trans women as culturally constructed third genders, "neither male nor female," and often contrast them (a "legitimate" third gender accepted in its culture) with Western trans women (horrific parodies of female stereotypes).

There's a lot of smoke and mirrors and jargon used to obscure the fact that while each culture's trans women are treated as a single culturally constructed identity separate from all other trans women, cis women are treated as a universal category that can just be called "women."

Even though Pakistani aurat and German Frauen and Guatemalan mujer will generally lead extraordinarily different lives due to the differences in culture, they are universally recognized as women.

The transmisogynist will say, "Yes, but we can't ignore the way gender is culturally constructed, and hijras aren't trans women, they're a third gender. Now let's worry less about trans people and more about the rights of women in Burkina Faso."

In other words, to the transmisogynist, all cis women are women, and all trans women are something else.

"But Kat, you're not Indian or Pakistani. You're not a hijra or khwaja sira, why is this so important to you?"

Have you ever heard of the Neapolitan third gender "femminiello"? It's the term my moniker "The Femme in Yellow" is derived from, and yes, I'm Neapolitan. Shut up.

I'm going to tell you a little bit about the femminielli, and I want you to see if any of this sounds familiar. Femminielli are a third gender in Neapolitan culture of people assigned male at birth who have a feminine gender expression.

They are lauded and respected in the local culture, considered to be good omens and bringers of good luck. At festivals you'd bring a femminiello with you to go gambling, and often they would be brought in to give blessings to newborns. Noticing anything familiar yet?

Oh and also they were largely relegated to begging and sex work and were not allowed to be educated and many were homeless and lived in the back alleys of Naples, but you know we don't really like to mention that part because it sounds a lot less romantic and mystical.

And if you're sitting there, asking yourself why a an accurate description of femminiello sounds almost note for note like the same way hijras get described and talked about, then you can start to understand why that picture at the start of this post has so much meaning for me.

And you can also start to understand why I get so frustrated when I see other queer people buy into this fool notion that for some reason the transes from different cultures must never mix.

That friend I mentioned earlier is a white American trans woman. She spent years living in India, and as I recal the story the family she was staying with saw her as a white, foreign hijra and she was asked to use her magic hijra powers to bless the house she was staying in.

So when it comes to various cultural trans identities there are two ways we can look at this. We can look at things from a standpoint of expressed identity, in which case we have to preferentially choose to translate one word for the local word, or to leave it untranslated.

If we translate it, people will say we're artificially imposing an outside category (so long as it's not cis people, that's fine). If we don't, what we're implying, is that this concept doesn't exist in the target language, which suggests that it's fundamentally a different thing

A concrete example is that Serena Nanda in her 1990 and 2000 books, bent over backwards to say that Hijras are categorically NOT trans women. Lots of them are!

And Don Kulick bent over backwards in his 1998 book to say that travesti are categorically NOT trans women, even though some of the ones he cited were then and are now trans women.

The other option, is to look at practice, and talk about a community of practice of people who are AMAB, who wear women's clothing, take women's names, fulfill women's social roles, use women's language and mannerisms, etc WITHIN THEIR OWN CULTURAL CONTEXT.

This community of practice, whatever we want to call it - trans woman, hijra, transfeminine, femminiello, fairy, queen, to name just a few - can then be seen to CLEARLY be trans-national and trans-cultural in a way that is not clearly evident in the other way of looking at things.

And this is important, in my mind, because it is this axis of similarity that is serving as the basis for a growing transnational transgender rights movement, particularly in South Asia. It's why you see pictures like this one taken at the 2018 Aurat March in Karachi, Pakistan.

And it also groups rather than splits, pointing out not only points of continuity in the practices of western trans women and fa'afafines, but also between trans women in South Asia outside the hijra community, and members of the hijra community both trans women and not.

To be blunt, I'm not all that interested in the word trans woman, or the word hijra. I'm not interested in the word femminiello or the word fa'afafine.

I'm interested in the fact that when I visit India, and I meet hijras (or trans women, self-expressed) and I say I'm a trans woman, we suddenly sit together, talk about life, they ask to see American hormones and compare them to Indian hormones.

There is a shared community of practice that creates a bond between us that cis people don't have. That's not to say that we all have the exact same internal sense of self, but for the most part, we belong to the same community of practice based on life histories and behavior.

I think that's something cis people have absolutely missed - largely in an effort to artificially isolate trans women. This practice of arguing about whether a particular "third gender" label = trans women or not, also tends to artificially homogenize trans women as a group.

You see this in Kulick and Nanda, where if you read them, you could be forgiven for thinking all American trans women are white, middle class, middle-aged, and college-educated, who all follow rigid codes of behavior and surgical schedules prescribed by male physicians.

There are trans women who think of themselves as separate from cis women, as literally another kind of thing, there are trans women who think of themselves as coterminous with cis women, there are trans women who think of themselves as anything under the sun you want to imagine.

The problem is that historically, cis people have gone to tremendous lengths to destroy points of continuity in the transgender community (see everything I've cited and more), and particularly this has been an exercise in transmisogyny of grotesque levels.

The question is do you want to talk about culturally different ways of being trans, or do you want to try to create as many neatly-boxed third genders as you can to prop up transphobic theoretical frameworks? To date, people have done the latter. I'm interested in the former.

I guess what I'm really trying to say with all of this is that we're all family y'all.

#transgender #third gender #hijras #femminielli #trans women are women #trans solidarity #trans rights #transmisogyny #transunity #transunitism #this is what trans unity looks like

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ponderingmoonlight · 4 months ago

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Kokushibo meeting another moon breather and falling hard

Pairing: Kokushibo x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: You were supposed to be another killed demon slayer on his list, nothing but a girl he stumbled upon in the woods at night. But something about you is different. Something stops him from ending your life.

Warnings: Honestly none, a little bit of violence, a little bit of HEAT, this will get a Part 2 if you guys are interested so feel free to interact with that fic! <3

„Leaving again?“

You tilt your head to the side ever so slightly, your katana already lying heavy in your rough hands.

“I have no choice. The order comes from Ubuyashiki-sama himself”, you reply with low voice.

Out of instinct, your eyes wander to the shining orb above, the most faithful companion of your life. Countless innocent nights, you just sat on the grass and took in its beauty inch by inch. But at times like these, the moon being out also means that demons wander on free foot.

“Lucky bastard”, Sanemi mumbles under his breath.

You wouldn’t consider yourself lucky. Not when you know painfully well that all those demons where once humans with dreams, hopes and love filling their hearts. Not when your whole family drowned you with love and affection only a few years ago.

Until Muzan Kibitsuji decided to turn their heads against you by turning them into demons.

“I’ll be back before training starts.”

“You better live up to that.”

Without looking back one last time, you begin your journey to the other side of this haunted land. If Ubuyashiki-sama called for a hashira, the matter has to be serious-minded. And while his crow didn’t deliver a lot of information about details apart from the place being a small village in the south, you know all too well what that means.

A strong demon, maybe one of the upper moons, even. And you, a hashira who was chosen to kill it.

Your eyes roam around the peaceful area, take in how beautifully the full moon lights up the trees around you. A truly remarkable scenery you try to enjoy as often as possible, even though working as a pillar keeps your mind and body occupied most of the time.

But you aren’t alone. An unsettling feeling starts spreading inside of your chest, the instinct of being watched out of the darkness becoming more and more urgent in your mind.

“Are you the one who is responsible for the destruction of the village nearby?”, you question into the dusk.

Destruction? Kokushibo can’t help but shake his head ever so slightly. As if he’d waste his time with something this minor.

The real question is, who are you? The way you walk and talk tells him more than urgently that you aren’t one of those average demon slayers, that you have to be someone special. A pillar, probably. He can’t help but take in your graceful sight, the way you almost float over the wet grass, your eyes lit by the moon oh so perfectly while your hands are tightly grabbing your katana in contrast.

You are beautiful. Enigmatic, powerful, and captivating... truly mesmerizing. In his long-lasting life, Kokushibo stumbled upon countless of women.

But they never caught his attention like you.

“I came here to end your suffering”, you continue calmly, not even your hands shaking by the sensation of meeting a demon.

You must sense it, that he’s far above the average demons you’ve encountered before. You have to feel his presence by the way you tilt your head towards his direction ever so slightly. And still, you don’t waver. Not even a little bit.

“Even if your skill level proceeds mine by miles.”

His eyes widen for a brief moment.

“Why don’t you show yourself, upper moon?”

It’s an instinct, an act out of trance. Kokushibo follows your word and emerges out of the darkness he found comfort in, his gleaming eyes now meeting yours directly.

The upper moon one.

You don’t allow your heart to skip a beat, force your mind to keep its focus. This must be the head of Muzan Kibutsuji’s army, the mightiest of them all apart from himself. The upper moon Kyojuro lost his life to was number 3. Weaker than the man standing in front of you, less dangerous than the man standing in front of you.

And you? You wouldn’t consider yourself stronger than Kyojuro was.

“I am forced to end your life right here and now”, you declare with a calm demeanor.

“You are too weak to even reach me”, Kokushibo replies automatically.

“I have no other choice but to try.”

He tilts his head to the side, watches like in slow motion how the neutral expression on your face hardens ever so slightly while you lift up your sword.

“Moon breathing, third form: celestial silence.”

You release a wave of soundless crescent blades like you always do, emerge him into confusion and darkness to prepare for your next attack.

“Moon breathing. You use moon breathing?”

You are barely able to escape the grasp of his arm that shouldn’t even be able to reach you by letting yourself fall onto the ground. Not even Sanemi is able to see through that curtain of silence, how was he able to react so fast?

A faint layer of cold sweat starts forming on your forehead, your fingers now grabbing the handle of your sword tighter. What did you expect from the upper moon one?

“Fourth form: Lunar precision.”

You can’t allow your thoughts to wander, need to focus on the way your sword feels inside your hands and the series of rapid, precise slashes that crush against his blade without mercy. Each strike is executed with meticulous accuracy, searing for any weaknesses.

But the man in front of you has none.

All it takes him is one minor slash to disarm you. With his other hand, he grabs your wrist tightly. Is he about to kill you? Will this be your last moment walking on earth? You can’t rip your now glossy eyes away from him, can’t even force yourself to look at the moon one last time.

“Who taught you that breathing technique?”

Your mind starts racing, brows furrowing ever so slightly. What is he talking about? And why are you not dead already?

“What?”, you breathe out.

With a swift motion, he puts his sword back in its sheath and grabs your other arm as well, now holding you so close that you can feel his breath dance across your face.

“Who taught you how to use moon breathing?”, he continues visibly aroused.

“I taught myself.”

Confusion, anger and shock roll over his face like a wave while his hands still keep you in place.

Impossible. This means that you mastered sun breathing as well. You, nothing but an average girl with eyes that make it easy to get lost in them. You with that basic sword that doesn’t show a single hint of your abilities.

Do you know what you’re capable of, that you might be a worthy opponent?

Or a mighty demon.

“You need to come with me.”

“Coming with you?”

Your heart now almost pounds out of your chest, arms instinctively fighting for what is dear life. If you go with him, you’ll die. What is his plan? Does he want to torture you, eat you alive? Your usual so collected mind starts falling apart bit by bit with every passing second.

“Stop attacking me”, he warns you.

You fight against his grasp even harder, desperately try to free you from the prison of his arms. You promised Sanemi that you’ll be back before the next training session starts, you promised Mitsuri to braid her hair in the morning. You made so many promises.

And now you might not be able to live up to a single one of them.

“Enough”, the man in front of you grumbles.

One well-placed hit. Then everything goes black.

Kokushibo’s heavy breath hangs in the air, eyes staring at your unconscious figure lying on the floor. He lifts your body off the ground as gently as possible, allows his eyes to regard your face up-close. You look so peaceful while lying in his arms, your features not showing a single sign of your fight earlier on. Apart from a single tear at the corner of your eye, you look flawless. He wipes it away with his index finger, watches how the moonlight reflects so beautifully in your perfect little teardrop. If he’d be able to caress your cheek one time, feel the softness of your hair only once-

He shakes his head ever so slightly. No, he needs to focus on what’s in front of him, needs to find out what lend you that power. Are you just like him? Are you maybe the only person on this planet who understands his silent suffering?

The second you open your eyes again, everything is still black. What happened? Are you at home? The demon…

Your eyes widen in an instant, dart around the poor-lit area in a haste. Where is the upper moon one?

“It took you quite some time to regain consciousness.”

His cold voice cuts through your bones with ease. There he sits, only a few meters away to your opposite. You swallow hard, scan your body for any injuries.

But you aren’t injured. Not even a single scratch decorates your skin.

“Why did you allow me to stay alive?”

To be honest, he doesn’t know. Muzan Kibitsuji made it more than clear that all demons are forced to kill every single demon slayer who crosses their path. Especially pillars like you. He stares at you without saying a single word.

“Are you going to kill me now?”

It is his responsibility to do so. Not even the fact that you use moon breathing should be enough to change that fate of yours, not when you’re a hashira, a dirty demon slayer. Again, he keeps his mouth shut.

When you open your mouth again, not a single sound escapes your dry lips. The countless questions that linger through your mind make it hard to form a logical thought. What are you supposed to do? Is there any way out of this? You need to fight, need to stay strong until you die.

“What do you know about moon breathing?”

“More than you”, he gives back.

He’s beautiful. Despite the unpromising gleam in his orbs and that number one than reminds you oh so urgently that this man is the highest ranked upper moon, you can’t help but let that thought sink in. There’s no doubt in the fact that he was once a truly handsome man.

The two of you sit opposite of each other, plainly staring in your faces without saying another word. You never felt anything apart from sorrow for those creatures, never allowed yourself to get lost in their features or to ponder about what they might have become. But this man…

“Did you use this breathing technique when you were still human?”

In the blink of an eye, the upper moon one draws his sword. Sparks fly, the air around you suddenly so hot that you almost feel like choking. What is that immense power of his? Are those…moons? Out of instinct, you grab his arm. For support, to stop him? You don’t know anymore.

“Stop”, you cough out.

“Please…stop.”

He lowers his blade, his free hand now grabbing your back and pulling you towards his chest.

“I was the only user of moon breathing for countless centuries. Until you showed up”, he clarifies distantly.

“Tell me how you conquered sun breathing. Tell me how you taught yourself this technique.”

His face is only inches away from yours, forces your breath to get stuck in your throat all over again.

“It just happened.”

“You will come with me.”

He starts dragging you along with him, the unusual flaming touch of his hand almost driving you insane. Just a few hours ago, you were on a mission to free a small village from the cruel hands of a demon. What about those innocent people? What about those poor souls who might get slaughtered at this very moment? You can’t just follow him like a lost puppy.

“Only under one condition.”

Slowly, the upper moon one turns his face towards you.

“You set conditions?”

“Free the village I was assigned to from those demons or otherwise…”

With a swift motion you draw your sword and press it firmly against your very own neck.

“Or otherwise, I’ll make sure I won’t be able to answer all of your questions.”

You find yourself devoured in his arms and pressed against a cool stone wall before you finished blinking once, now staring straight into his dangerous orbs.

“I don’t negotiate with something like that”, he presses out.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt @virtual-202 @blunderland

@strawberry784

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weirdmarioenemies · 3 months ago

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Name: F.L.U.D.D. (Flash Liquidizer Ultra Dousing Device)

Debut: Super Mario Sunshine

F.L.U.D.D. was Mario's first ever Platforming Buddy! Unless you count the Lakitu Bros. from 64, but they just operate the camera and don't affect Mario's platforming moveset, so I do not. So really, F.L.U.D.D. is- hold on, I really don't want to write every individual period each time I write its name. I'm just going to leave all the periods at the end of the post and you can put them where they belong yourself, or anywhere else you think is funny. Or you can keep them, I don't mind. Put them on a bagel and tell a friend they're poppy seeds!

FLUDD is a big deal. A landmark for the series in terms of mechanics. Not that these specific mechanics returned, but the concept of a buddy granting Mario some new abilities has become a recurring thing. FLUDD even talks, and is fully voice acted! In a robot voice! Like mine! A cute and silly little robot buddy for Super Mario.

So then... why don't I absolutely LOVE it? I feel like I should! But I'm just not getting that urge to imagine it driving a kart or playing tennis like I do with far less important characters. Does it work so well as a Tool that I have a hard time viewing it as a Character? Let's See!

I think FLUDD's design is honestly kind of perfect. The two massive screws that evoke eyes are really clever, and especially great is that they give it + shaped "pupils"! Aside from that, the nozzle's funnel shape is an extremely funny shape for a mouth, and FLUDD does indeed speak out of there. Excellent head! Though I feel like the excitement fizzles out once you look past the head, because the rest is much more "equipment" than "character". That's fine, this IS a piece of equipment! It just makes it feel less like a character, when I'd like it to have a bit of a balance of both. Maybe if the handles also functioned as little feet that it could walk around on? I don't know. Maybe that would be stupid... but I do love when creature designs are stupid!

FLUDD was made by E. Gadd, but that's all the backstory we get. We never learn why it was just there on the Delfino Airstrip, and that's really weird! The perfect tool to combat the game's main conflict is just there immediately when Mario arrives. It could have been a cool little mystery, but I guess the reality is just that some Pianta ordered it when the Goop Incident happened and got express delivery. Or maybe someone already had it and was just waiting for a calamity like this to happen, to justify the purchase!

I don't need to go over everything FLUDD does, right? I'm not the Super Mario Wiki, it's not my job! I'm here for the Weird. And a weird thing is that FLUDD freaken dies.

During the final boss against Bowser's Hot Tub, FLUDD starts stuttering, as if breaking down. And then in the final cutscene... it Dies! Mario goes to it, it tells him it hopes it was of assistance, and it dies. And Mario is sad, because this was his friend. But then in the very next scene FLUDD is back! Some Toads fixed it and it's fine now. So this ends up having the emotional impact of Mario needing to change the battery on his TV remote.

Even though it's our and Mario's friend, FLUDD is still an object, a product. It's technically not just FLUDD, but A FLUDD, one of many, mass produced. I have to wonder if it actually formed any bond with Mario, or if it was a one-sided friendship. Is it even capable of friendship...?

Whatever the case, the others absolutely consider FLUDD a friend, and well, that's just so sweet. During the credits we get to see some extremely compressed pictures of Mario and friends enjoying their real vacation, and FLUDD is there with them! It's not even on Mario's back anymore, or always WITH Mario, for that matter. Sometimes it's hanging out with Peach and some Toads, sitting there independently. I think it is safe to say FLUDD is a real true friend, and likes to just Hang Out sometimes! Even better, maybe it wasn't originally sentient, but learned how to love over the course of the adventure. Such a wonderful robot thing to do!

As expected, thinking in depth about FLUDD has absolutely endeared me to it. Hooray! It's about time. Well, it's too late for FLUDD to be relevant again, probably. I'm not saying it should be a driver in Mario Kart, but I AM saying there should be a kart based on it, and I'm also saying that this kart should canonically be the FLUDD, now upgraded. This feels like something that should have happened long ago!

This has been a long post, but it is far from all FLUDD has had to discuss! So next time, I will post about FLUDD once more, and its various appearances during the GameCube days and beyond! There is milk involved at some point. Get excited to learn what milk has to do with any of this!

Here are all those periods you were promised! I hope you like them.

....................................................................................................

#fludd #mario #super mario sunshine #mario allies #mod chikako

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ironunderstands · 7 months ago

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These Aventurine, Topaz and Jade comparisons are getting out of hand…

As much as I adore both of them, I think it’s very disingenuous to compare Aventurine and Topaz’s lore and be like “but they are the same!!!! If people like Aventurine and dislike Topaz that’s just misogyny!!! and like… no?

Topaz’s whole thing is that she doesn’t know the extent of the IPC’s evil, and believes that what she’s doing is genuinely the right thing to do. Even if she never had a choice in joining the IPC, she (incorrectly) believes what they did to her and her planet is justified, logical and moral, and for those reasons she stands with them. Part of this is likely IPC brainwashing, as she was probably very young when she became an indentured servant to them, and someone living on a planet on the brink of destruction would likely view anyone who stepped up to save them as heroes (imo the IPC likely waited for the point of no return to establish contact so her people had no other choice to except).

However Topaz got best end of the proverbial stick, her planet and its people were deemed useful by the IPC, and didn’t fight back, even if in the end they were still exploited.

Unfortunately, we have seen through Boothill, Belabog and Aventurine what happens when that isn’t the case.

Boothill’s planet got bombed and people genocided because they had a resource useful to the IPC, but were unwilling to cooperate with them or hand over their home, so the IPC decided to eradicate them.

Belabog had a debt owed to the IPC that was ridiculously high and very unfair to expect them to pay back, and had Topaz not convinced the higher ups to give them some time (which she got demoted for), the IPC would have taken Belabog by force

That leaves us with Aventurine, whose story is in no way on the same level of bad as Topaz’s. Unlike her, he has witnessed and experienced firsthand the truly awful shit the IPC can do.

They took custody of Sigonia and promised to offer the Avgin aid in their fight against the Katacans, at the very least protect them from harm. (Sidenote, since the IPC held control over Sigonia, they should have stopped the fighting in the first place). However, they simply stood by and did nothing, resulting in the deaths of around 6,000 Avgin, with around 3,000 went missing (or injured, I don’t remember, either way it’s bad).

But wait! It gets worse! Aventurine when he was still known as Kakavasha referred to the IPC as “the men in black/the men in black suits”, and his first master says he bought Aventurine from “the men in black/the men in black suits”, likely mocking the way he referred to them. Therefore THE IPC TOOK PART AND LIKELY EVEN CREATED A FUCKING SLAVE TRADE IN SIGONIA

Look being made into an indentured servant isn’t fun, but idk personally I’d take that any day of the week OVER BEING ENSLAVED

That’s not even to mention how horrible of a reputation Sigonian’s have in the galaxy, one likely spread by/resulting from the IPC themselves, as at least on Aventurines planet they do not have the mobility to make a name for themselves. (Honestly it’s a mini theory of mine that Aventurines scam is what partly contributed to this reputation, and his status as a slave is something the IPC conveniently left out in their broadcast about it-)

But, you might be saying, didn’t Aventurine have a choice to join the masked fools and leave the IPC, isn’t he free now? And to that I say, it’s complicated.

Considering the amount of suicidal shit Aventurine has done while being part of the IPC, he clearly hasn’t been having a fun time as a member of one, so why does he stick around, especially with the Fools invite? Even if he was a slave, does that absolve him of the crimes he’s committing now? What could justify his actions?

Revenge, plan and simple.

This is going to delve into some spoiler territory for the end of the Penacony 2.2 quest, something which I didn’t feel like mentioning earlier because I’m sorry but everyone and their mother already knows Boothill’s lore. Now, let’s get into it.

Aventurine accepts Jades offer to join the IPC, and when he becomes a Stoneheart, the first thing he asks about is the fate of the Avgin, to which he then learns that besides him, they are all dead. You see, from birth Kakavasha was pushed onto a pedestal as the savior of the Avgin, but now that there are no more Avgin to save, his primary motivator in becoming a Stoneheart (beyond not being enslaved anymore) is gone.

So what does he do now?

Simple, try to kill the motherfuckers behind it.

That’s why he takes on such risky gambles still, and why he wagers and wants Diamond to promote him to rank p46. The higher Aventurine gets the closer he gets to his goal of taking down the IPC for good.

Which is why his meeting with Boothill is so meaningful. I think Boothill is going to “kidnap” him and together they are gonna take down the wicked bitch that is Oswaldo Schneider for his literal crimes against humanity.

Mark my words, an IPC downfall is going to happen, and I think Topaz, Aventurine, Boothill and Ratio are going to be at the forefront of it.

However, Topaz and Ratio (and by extension the rest of the galaxy) have to learn/realize the true horrors of the IPC (although I can sense Ratio doesn’t really like them, and he’s learned a lot from Aventurine, I doubt he knows the full extent of the situation or is in any way happy about it). Therefore? Topaz mental breakdown arc? Ratio lore? PLEASE??!? The IP3 compliment one another so well and god I can’t wait for that to come to fruition.

I really want to see a Topaz and Ratio centered story leading up to an IPC smackdown, and I think we are gonna learn a lot more about how shitty they are in the later half of 2.2 and in 2.3 when the interlude and Jades release arrive.

As for the aforementioned Jade, she’s gonna need a Aventurine squared amount of trauma or reasoning behind her actions to seem in any way sympathetic, because right now she just seems like an evil bitch (in a semi good way, I will always respect the commitment to the bit) who loves her job and would make Machiavelli weep over how hard her ends are trying to justify her means.

#honkai star rail #dr ratio #aventurine #topaz #ip3 #aventiopaz #its not necessarily a ship post it’s just these three are an inseparable unit made perfectly for one another and should kiss #Anyways I can’t fucking wait for future updates #DOWN WITH THE IPC we all screamed #jade hsr #2.3 is gonna be peak #2.2 spoilers #boothill #Also this has made me like avenhill #Avenhill #Kill those cunts!

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pinescent-and-gingerbread · 5 months ago

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˖✧ The Jackpot

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: You join Arthur and the boys for a job on the Grand Korrigan riverboat where you act as Arthur’s lap girl. The man in question is more than excited about this decision. ✦ Warnings: Guns, mention of shooting, swearing, SMUT, oral (reader receiving), edging if you squint, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 3,8k ✦ a/n: A big heartwarming thank you to @zae-heeyyy!! Who took the time to correct my dumb spelling and give me her thoughts on this before publishing it! Please go check her work, I swear it won't disappoint! Also: pictures are not mine! I usually try to use a pic for Arthur from my own playthrough but I'm fcking stuck on Guarma rn. Found them on Pinterest.

Dim lights are flickering all around you, making the golden ornaments of the luxurious place you're in shine like a thousand stars. You couldn't believe this gigantic reception room, gratified by a bar, a grand piano, and of course, three elegant poker tables, was actually floating on water right now, as you were on the Grand Korrigan boat, the jewel of its kind, den of the richest gentlemen in St. Denis, in search for some amusement and of course, even more money.

Trelawny and Herr Strauss had plotted a well-crafted deal that could earn a lot of money for the gang. Along with Javier disguised as one of the guards, Arthur would act as a new wealthy businessman who had just made a fortune in oil. Strauss would give him signals during his poker game, which guaranteed him to win considering Trelawny had made a friend out of the dealer.

You? You'd play his mistress, sitting on his lap during the game to make the scene look more convincing. On top of that, you had been able to hide a little gun in a hidden pocket in the underside of your dress, guaranteeing some extra protection, which wasn't a bad idea considering the Grand Korrigan was heavily armed and neither Arthur, Trelawny nor Strauss had one.

So here you were, thriving in your role, comfortably sitting on Arthur's lap, hands wrapped around his neck, both legs hanging on his left side. His arms were enveloping you, hands resting on the edge of the table as he was focusing on his cards.

Well, more like trying to focus, actually.

Maybe it was because you two had started a quite passionate relationship a few weeks ago, sneaking in each other's tent, simple kisses and whispers in the night quickly turning into something more, the both of you having cravings to fulfill.

Maybe it was because Trelawny, the damned man, had chosen a particularly suggestive dress for you to wear, comforting your play considering wives weren't allowed at the poker tables, only work girls and such, your cleavage on full display for his immoral eyes.

Maybe it was the way he could feel the round and warm flesh of your ass even through the fabric of your clothes, right where he wanted to, making his brain impossible to function properly, desperately trying to keep the hardness between his legs to stay in line.

Either way, Arthur had to make enormous efforts to focus on the job and was frankly relieved Strauss was telling him what to do; despite being a pretty good poker player, he would never have been able to win the easiest of games in this state.

Strauss told him to go all-in. He did. You smiled, you would have lied saying you weren't enjoying yourself right now. You had known far worse jobs than playing Arthur's lover. Much to your surprise, he had played a really convincing character through the night too, his usual mumbling far gone, replaced by a bright and confident speech and a cheeky grin that was making you want to kiss it even more. In fact, you wanted to take care of him just to see this cocky smirk flatter under your touch, replaced by a pleasured expression on his handsome face.

It was easy to say both of you were acting pretty good, but inside felt like two teenagers in love.

Arthur had won another hand, men were starting to leave the table, angry. It was only you both and the target now, an opulent man known as Desmond Blythe, loaded with money thanks to his hosiery business.

You pulled a cigarette out of Arthur's pocket along with a match, and you felt his breath hitch for an instant when you slipped your hand in it. Rubbing the match against the wood of the table, you lighted the cigarette casually, little flame illuminating a thin grin on your lips. You took a small drag on it to make sure the tobacco had plainly burnt, then you placed the cigarette in front of Arthur's lips, holding it for him between your index and middle finger, so that he could smoke on it while keeping both his hands on his cards.

It was downright one of the hottest things anybody had done to him and he was starting to lose it. Wrapping his lips around your offering and smoking a long drag, he allowed himself to avert his gaze from his opponent for a few seconds, planting his turquoise pupils into yours.

His eyes were half-lidded, long lashes accentuating the languorous gaze he was giving you. Your heart started racing. The power this man had on you was insane, but if only you knew what you were doing to him in return. You had a glimpse of it though, right there in the depths of his two blue diamonds, this so distinctive dark glow of him, direct window on the sinful pit of his urges.

You were sure your own eyes were mirroring it. And it got worse when, after exhaling some smoke, he quickly kissed the palm of your hand, indicating he had smoked enough, the warm sensation of his chapped lips on your skin giving you goosebumps. His eyes went back to Blythe, and you exhaled as if you had been holding your breath during the whole time you had locked eyes.

You retrieved your hand, taking a drag yourself on the cigarette after him, loving the idea of sharing it with him, of putting your lips right where he did a few seconds before, your biased brain telling you you could taste sweet remnants of him there.

Another all-in, another hand won by Arthur who couldn't stop himself from smiling this sly cocky smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Shit, shit!" Blythe shouted, hitting on the table with his fists furiously.

"I guess ma luck held... Is that you done?" Arthur asked him, his tone triumphant while bending over the table to gather his not-so-well-deserved chips. "Or, do you got somethin' else to play with?" He added more lowly, his baritone voice almost making you shiver just hearing it.

"Meaning?" Desmond questioned back, visibly frustrated. Looked like frustration was a popular feeling around this poker table tonight, about the game or other things...

Arthur had gotten up from his chair and you too, now standing by his side, partially glued to his body as he had snaked an arm around your waist while finishing to put in order his chips. He answered using the same taunting, arrogant tone as before.

"Well, I heard there was some big boys on this boat, maybe that's not you, no offense-"

"Sit your and your whore's hillbilly asses down." The rich men cut him off, voice dark and serious.

You felt Arthur's hand grip tighter on your waist. For a faint moment, you thought that his cover would collapse, considering how tense he had gotten hearing him calling you a whore. But the way he was still smiling was almost even more scary, it was a false, threatening one. The kind of smile that hides a cold anger, boiling silently inside.

"Why?" Arthur simply answered, tone brilliantly contained considering the way his muscles were flexing on their own under his fancy suit.

"I got a watch... An expensive one, swiss... a Reutlinger no less. It's in the safe, upstairs. It's worth more than you."

You forced yourself not to cross eyes with Arthur. Your target. He had just confirmed what you were all here for. Perfect, just a bit more of this whole play and Arthur would be able to access the strongbox.

"Okay, I trust ya." Arthur consented while sitting back on his chair, placing you with his two big hands back at your place, on his lap. You were definitely loving this job. You'd have to thank Trelawny for it, someday.

The rest of the game passed just like before, your outlaw ultimately winning once more thanks to your colleague's little trick. Desmond was furious, and you obtained your goal.

Arthur happily got up once again, gently helping you stand, one of his hands naturally resting on your shoulder. Before following the gentleman who was supposed to bring him to the safe, he bent over to you, head brushing against yours, his stubble and hairs tickling your cheeks. He whispered in your ear, voice deep and hoarse, this one voice that was always making your head turn.

"When we're finished here, I'm gonna take care of ya, darlin'."

You sighed, cracking up a sly smirk, your cheeks turning a bit red. These simple words were enough to make the heat between your thighs make itself known; crying out for attention. Being so close like this was allowing you to breathe in his scent, its combination on top of his breath on your ear was a dangerous mix for your sanity. You took the opportunity of having his skin so close to your lips to place a small kiss on his neck, right below his own ear.

Arthur smiled at you, his bright blue eyes sparkling as he took a last look at you before walking off. You sighed softly again, already missing his presence. The wait for some time alone was only making your own needs grow.

You were only hoping the job would end up smoothly.

Of course, it didn't.

Desmond, sore loser, had accused Arthur of cheating. That and the fact that the guard Javier had knocked off to steal his clothes had appeared out of nowhere yelling to shoot him had set things on fire on the Grand Korrigan, the boat now witness to a heated shooting the Van Der Linde Gang was known for.

You had instantly pulled out your hidden gun and helped Arthur clean up the place thanks to Javier who had thrown him a rifle. The night had ended with your incongruous team jumping straight in the water, swimming back to the shore, a quite odd and armed to the teeth fish shoal. At least, everyone was alive, and you even had obtained a pretty decent amount of money, not even mentioning the watch Strauss had authenticated as a real Reutlinger. Arthur had quickly taken back the precious object from his greedy hands, "well give it back then", which made you laugh to yourself.

True to himself, your cowboy had instructed everyone to separate and get out of the shore, as always after a job. You were all quite a sight, soaked to the bones. As you were greeting everyone a good night, Arthur silently walked to you and grabbed your hand. Even with the water you both had leaking from your clothes to your skin, you could feel how warm his hand was, contrasting yours which was completely freezing cold from having swam in the icy waters. You wondered if this man was even human.

"But you, Miss, are comin' with me." He playfully informed you, not leaving you any choice.

It was not as if you wanted to go anywhere else anyway.

"Really now? What d'ya have in mind, cowboy?" You asked him with an equally mischievous tone on your own, your eye glued to the way his hair looked completely soaked, subtle rivulets sliding all the way from it to his neck.

"Maybe we could pay ourselves a well-deserved night in town..." He proposed, voice turning more and more into a low growl as he was letting his desires take the lead on his reason.

"I would love that." You simply agreed, before getting closer to him, tilting your head up to bring your lips to his. He gladly let you, one hand still holding yours, the other gently landing on the side of your face.

The walk to the La Bastille Saloon was supposed to be a short one, but you both looked like you couldn't wait to be there before teasing each other. You would sometimes stop walking to just attack his neck, lips merciless as you sucked and kissed him there. Your taunting acts were often met with his equally heated answer, one of his palms ending on your ass, or your thighs, your wet clothes transparent and glued to your curves not helping him to keep his touch away from these places of your body. Arthur's breath sharpened as he called you his lil minx, and no, darlin’, we can't just do it on the streets.

Finally, after having shocked the barman by arriving at such late hours in completely soaked clothes, which honestly just made the both of you laugh mischievously, you reached your love nest for the night.

And what a nest! Silk sheets, canopy bed, sumptuous decor glistening with the dim lights of the chandeliers. Even the floor looked comfortable, carpeted with some fancy patterns, matching the couch and bed's color. Red, just like passion, just like lust. Red, like the color of your cheeks right now as Arthur had closed the door and was already on his knees, placing you on the edge of the mattress. Red, just like what Arthur was seeing right now, hungry hands pulling your dress up, positioning himself between your thighs.

You looked down at him, his darkened eyes looking at you. You noticed he had ripped off his fancy tie, needing to breathe properly, the heat between you both already making him suffocate. In those moments, his beautiful pupils were always shining with a more murky color, his usual sky blue turning into a more cobalt one. They were staring intensely into yours, expression questioning. A silent demand. You nodded positively, quietly answering. Dooming yourself.

The moment you did, he buried his head between your legs, left hand resting on your hip, holding you gently. His lips started kissing softly on the fabric of your undergarments. His other hand quickly came, helping him in his task by pulling it to the side, granting him access.

The moment his lips met your folds, you let out a moan, unable to resist the feeling he was giving you. He was loving it, his ears getting redder as he was more and more aroused himself. He was so big between your thighs, his shoulders were spreading them almost completely open.

He licked in a long, slow movement all the way to the top of your pussy, making you sigh in pleasure already, hips jerking against his head, begging for more.

"Easy, girl... I've got ya." He soothed you hoarsely, left hand holding you more firmly to prevent you from crushing him totally. Nevertheless, he took your eagerness into account; he couldn't deny you anything. Not when it came to sex. Not when you were so beautiful in this ostentatious dress. Not when he had grown more and more found of you, even if he was refusing to admit it to himself completely for now.

He brought his lips on the top of your core, tongue gently circling around this so special knot of nerves, his stubble scratching pleasantly against your skin, bringing you even more sensations.

It was already so good, Arthur's mouth showing you no pity, licking, sucking, kissing, as if you were becoming the only food he could ever feast on, the only oxygen he could breathe with. The sight of his broken nose buried beneath your skin, as if he was searching to go even deeper within you was almost too much for you to handle. Your hands that were gripping the sheets had now found the top of his head, spurring him to continue, please please please, Arthur, more, or you could have died right here on the fancy bed of the La Bastille Saloon.

Arthur's tongue answered your begging call, lapping your sensitive spot faster, harder. How the Hell was that man so good at pleasuring a woman? That, sinful, dirty man, just like the sounds you were letting out right now.

Your vision started to blur, the back of your head sinking onto the mattress, your back arching deliciously, and you were going to let him know just how close you were until he stopped all of a sudden.

"A-Arthur!" You protested, head snapping back at him, eyes pleading, tone both offended and needy as his name had sounded more like a whine when it had felt from your mouth.

He smiled cockily at you from where he was, his mouth looking wet with your arousal. He loved it, he loved being responsible for it.

"I'm here, girl... I jus' need ya too much right now. Lemme just..."

His voice was now a low rumble, coming from the depth of his chest. You watched as he quickly ripped off his clothes with little care for them. Trelawny would have shouted at how he was treating one of the most expensive suits he had ever brought.

But he didn't care about the suit. And neither do you, as your eyes were devouring every inch of his flesh that was appearing under them. The sight of a completely naked Arthur always had the same effect on you, no matter how many times you already had seen it.

His muscular body looked like it had been carved by Angels. No, more likely by an angry, dark God, who would have sculpted him from a hard and brutal material, his many scars and blurs a remnant of it. You could almost picture his tools molding your lover's broad chest and shoulders with sharp, furious hammer blows. His powerful arms and legs had received the same treatment, as if the deity wanted to pass on all of his brutal force into his creation. And his cock was definitely no exception to it.

And yet, this massive force of nature was blushing under your gaze. He couldn't have resisted the hurtful sensation of emptiness around his shaft, one of his hands now giving himself a few strokes to try and relieve some of it. His eyes closed in a frown for a few seconds, your pussy burned at this unholy scenery he was offering you.

You were in such a state of need it was almost depraved. You quickly got rid of your own clothes, tossing them somewhere on the floor of the room, needing to share this intimacy with him, to feel his skin against yours.

"Oh, please... Arthur, jus' take me..." You asked yourself before he could probe your adequation. You knew him well now, you already knew the next words he was going to speak would be another demand to make sure you truly wanted this.

He seemed to enjoy how you had forecasted it, his eyes opening again to look at you, his cock hardening even more, precum slowly leaking from its top, wasting all the efforts he had done to relieve it a bit.

"If that's what you want darlin'... I'm your man." He answered in a growl, climbing next to you on the bed.

You weren't sure why but his last words had made your heart swell in your chest. You were sure, deep down inside of you, that he meant it in another way. He really had become yours, and you, his. Lost in your thoughts, you let him handle you gently, placing you on your belly against the silk sheets, lying himself on top of you, legs between yours.

You slightly moved your rear up against his erection, earning a grunt of pleasure from him. Saying he had loved it was an understatement; he had been thinking about doing this with you since you had sat on him on the riverboat.

Using his right hand, he placed his cock against your entrance, and finally started pushing, your pussy already ready for him thanks to his ministrations, your mouth mewling at the sensation. Your perfect, hot walls were finally enveloping him, and he tried his best not to come just from that intense feeling alone.

He was so big and tall behind you, his head could reach yours and he buried it onto the crook of your neck, his hair still wet offering you a cold feel, contrasting with his whole hot chest pressed on your back, making you feel as if a literal inferno was burning it. He slowly started to pull back, only to shove himself in you again, starting a slow but intense back and forth.

"God, damn it... 'Feel so good girl..." He mumbled against your skin, his arms encircling you from both sides, caging you under his tall figure.

You sighed at his praise, wanting to answer something to compliment him back, but he snapped his hips just at the same time, making you shut your eyes close, and moan louder than before. Your voice was starting to crack under the amount of pleasure he was bringing to you, hard shaft brushing this deep spot within your core every time his hips moved, hitting just right where you needed him to.

He had noticed, and it was only making him lose his mind even more, unable to keep his pace slow, letting his body unleashed. He had waited this whole night to bury himself in you, listened to this moron calling you names without having the right to punch his goddamn idiotic face. He couldn't hold anything back anymore.

He started thrusting more frantically, pistoning his cock in and out of you so fast and hard he was now fucking you onto the bed. His right hand grabbed a fistful of your ass, the feeling of it colliding with his pelvis with every thrust making him insane, the other one next to your left shoulder, preventing him from crushing you completely.

You could feel it, the familiar feeling, the divine relief, building more and more thanks to him, the pace increasing your pleasure. Feeling how impossibly hard his sex had gotten in your cunt, you knew he was close too. This simple fact was the last push to your deliverance.

"A-Arthur! God, yes!" You screamed, unable to form any coherent thoughts, existing simply for this, for this moment with him, naked on the bed of this saloon. Just you and him.

"Oh, darlin’, shit!" Your orgasm had made your walls clench even more around his dick, exploding his limit. He quickly removed himself from you, and finished at the last second on your back and ass, his burning release painting your skin in flaming spurts. His very own sinful art piece.

The room felt silent again. The air stifling from your lovemaking, the only sounds being heard were your sharp, quickened breaths. Arthur took a few seconds to collect himself, feeling better and so satisfied, almost euphoric. Turning your head to the side, you took a glimpse of your lover's gorgeous state. Hair messy, cheeks and ears crimson, sweat dripping everywhere on his skin, chest rising and falling in big, profound exhales.

He then grabbed a piece of fabric from one of the wardrobes to gently wipe off his seed from you, and tossed it away, wanting nothing more but to rest against you now. A perfect contrast, from an agitated, stormy sea to a quiet, secret cove. As if you were the only one who could see him like this, vulnerable, loving even.

You watched him lay by your side on his back, your head still feeling dizzy, slowly coming back from a world of fantasies. You snuggled against him, resting your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you, feeling spent but so, so happy. And you felt the same. Still naked, skin against skin, heart beating together, just the two of you.

Tonight had been quite something, and despite having won a few thousand dollars, it was definitely not money that was making Arthur feel like he had hit the jackpot.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #pinefic #red dead redemption #arthur morgan smut #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 smut #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fic

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writingsbychlo · 6 months ago

Text

SPIDER | tom riddle

summary; tom riddle has a peculiar way of showing his affection, but he's nothing if not protective.

word count; 1625

notes; I woke up this morning with inspiration and I grabbed my laptop and banged this out before even getting up. if you hate it, I literally don't care <3

The flames of the fireplace flickered soothingly, the last warmth spilling out towards you in a subtle glow, hiding the reflections of the lake that danced around the room. Several other students were also still milling around, the Slytherin common room was never truly empty, not unless it was the summer break. Pulling the blanket a little tighter around your shoulders, you snuggled down a bit further, only stilling when the cold sense of someone else crept down your neck.

This was a familiar chill, though. You were aware of someone else’s presence, and yet no part of that was threatening. A familiar cologne reached your nose, and before you’d even turned, you were greeting the man who stood behind you, “Hello, Tom.”

“Why are you down here?” He cut right to the point, never one for formalities, and your lips flickered up at the edges as he walked around the edge of the sofa and into your view. “You’re never up at this time.”

Always so observant. Your smile formed a little more every time he revealed something extra he’d noticed about you. That you liked a particular table in the library, that your favourite biscuits were chocolate hobnobs, that you didn’t usually stay up this late. Tom Riddle had a peculiar way of showing affection. Most people assumed he was cold, unfeeling, harsh. They couldn't be more wrong.

Tom Riddle was a walking, talking, bleeding heart. He was an open wound, snapping like an injured animal when anyone came close. Tom Riddle was full of emotion, it just happened to be hidden behind a thick stone wall. But if you were allowed close enough to look through the cracks, the true Tom Riddle shone like golden light within.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You teased, and he rolled his eyes, taking half a step closer to you and perching on the arm of the couch elegantly.

“You know I go for walks at night.”

“And where do you go for these walks? What do you do on your oh-so-mysterious nightly walks?” You turned your body further towards him, the blanket slipping down from its place around your chin, and those calculating brown eyes tracked its fall along your arm.

“That’s none of your business, and you’re avoiding the question.”

“You’re avoiding mine.” You retorted, and he simply gave you a dry look. Reaching out, Tom lifted the edge of the blanket back up and over your shoulder, securing it back into place.

“Answer me.”

“Fine,” You sighed, head rolling across your shoulders and back towards the fireplace, watching the growing flames once again, “I saw a spider in my room. It crawled down the edge of my bed right before I could get in, and now I don’t want to go to sleep.”

You could feel Tom’s stare on you, the silence stretching between you both as he let the confession settle. There was half a chance he’d scoff, and half a chance he’d simply walk away now that he got his answer. He seemed to be debating between which one to go for. “Why didn’t Pansy get it out for you?”

Another question, not an option you’d considered, but not a surprise from him. “She’s not here, she’s at Luna’s tonight.”

More silence, and you took the chance to observe him instead. Tom Riddle was not one to cower away from a stare, and so as you watched him, he watched you too. Finally, he broke the silence, “I’ll get it for you.”

Now, that was a surprise. “You will?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Does it matter?” He shot back, standing once again, making it clear to you that you were to do the same, or he’d leave without you. Dropping the blanket down to the couch, the enchanted item folded itself back up and into the storage trunk you’d taken it from, as you smoothed out your jumper and followed Tom’s already retreating steps.

“It doesn’t matter, but I’m curious. Humour me.” You caught up with him, and he cut you a glance from the side of his eye. “You should also know that I’m very grateful, whether you choose to tell me or not. Thank you.”

The rigid lines of his shoulders softened a little at that. Should you know how to, Tom Riddle could be played like a fiddle. You smothered a snicker at the rhyme in your head as he let slip a small sigh. “I don’t want you to sit in the common room all night when I can perfectly easily take care of the problem.”

Your smile was full now, following him silently through the halls as he guided the way to your dorm. Opening the door, he was respectful enough to ignore the piles of mess on your roommate’s side of the dorm, looking straight towards your untouched bed, and the mug of now cold tea sitting on your bedside table.

“Which side?”

“The far one.” You mumbled, tension creeping back into your body. What if it wasn’t there anymore? What if it had crawled elsewhere, and was now hidden somewhere in the room, ready to strike, or—

The screech of your bed frame moving snapped you from your thoughts as Tom pulled it away from the wall. It moved again, jarring along the wooden floor. Tom remained still, eyes moving for a second, two, before he suddenly strode forwards, ducking down and his hand shot out. He straightened a second later, with his hands cupped, and turned to you.

He nodded his head towards the window, and you scurried across the room ahead of him, flinging open the window and backing far away as he neared. That made him scoff, rolling his eyes at your behaviour once again. He held his hands out of the window, shaking them off and letting the spider fall through the air, before pulling back, and clicking the catch back into place. He double-checked it, before casting his eye over the rest of the room.

“Let me check for any more.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Your words fell on deaf ears, as Tom shifted your bed back into place, before peering behind both desks, your dressers and the wardrobe, and finally, the bathroom. He methodically checked each and every space within your dorm for you, leaving you to sit in the centre of your once again safe bed, watching him with a soft smile. Before leaving the bathroom, he washed his hands clean of the creature that had been crawling within them, before returning to you.

“No more.”

“Thank you, Tom.” You whispered, his chin tucking in a single nod, but a frown on his face.

“You already thanked me.”

“There’s no law saying I can’t thank you twice, or as many times as I please, for that matter.” Your smirk made him press his lips into a line, but he had no comeback and hated not having the final word. He was calculating, something else to say, something to spin this back onto you—

“Your tea is cold. You should reheat that, so you don’t waste it.”

Your gaze flickered to the mug, and back to him, shrugging. “I don’t feel like having it now.”

His sigh sounded frustrated, and he took a few more steps into the room, towards you, instead of the door. His voice had softened once again as he took you in, looking down at you with a gentler gaze than most ever saw. “Will you go to sleep now?”

“Soon, I think I’ll just read for a while, I’m not too tired yet.”

He nodded. His jaw clenched as he glanced towards the door, but made no move to leave. The clock in the corner ticked, seconds passing by loudly in the space, and then, “Would you like to join me on my walk?”

His words were fragile, a rare show of vulnerability from him. Uttered quietly into the air that hung between you both, and your gasp almost startled him. “Really?”

He glared, answering your question with a fitting answer. Tom never said things he didn’t mean, and you knew that. Everyone knew that. But he’d never let anyone go on his walks before, it was a hotly debated topic and a running joke within the group about what exactly took place on these walks, and what nefarious things he likely got up to.

“I’d like that.”

“Then put on some proper shoes, and quickly.” You did as he had, rather gruffly, commanded, swapping out the comfy slippers for some boots, and throwing on another jumper for extra warmth. Tom waited for you at the door, holding it open for you to step through. “Do you like the lake at night?”

“I’ve never been out to the lake at night.”

He made a quiet sound of acknowledgement, a hum under his breath. “Then that’s where we’ll go. You’ll like it. It’s… peaceful.”

His hand flexed at his side as you walked together, and after clearing the common room and entering the silent corridors, you slipped your hand into his own.

He stiffened, for only a second, before his fingers wrapped back around yours, and a smile pulled on his lips as he ducked his head. You and Tom had been dancing this line for years now, something more but not quite enough.

Not yet.

But you’d get there, someday. His actions told you enough. Enough to know that he felt what you did too, that you were certainly headed somewhere, on a collision course together. You belonged to Tom Riddle as much as he belonged to you.

So, for now, holding his hand as you walked the lake, and letting him chase spiders out of your room was enough.

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle/reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle/you #slytherin boys #harry potter #christian coulson/reader #christian coulson x reader #christian coulson/you #christian coulson x you

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