#okay it’s now 2:00 in the morning | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

julymusings · 1 month ago

Text

dark chocolate cherry

i want to bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. i want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

or; your boyfriend shows up when you just want some alone time [3.2k]

jason todd x fem!reader; reader gets her period and describes painful symptoms; just fluff; jason "words don't come easy so here's acts of service" todd this is earlier in the relationship which is why he's still a little shy but she knows he's red hood? idk man. i was just going with it; can you guess what inspired this? (everything is awful)

The day started at 2 AM when you woke to shooting pains in your abdomen and blood everywhere. It continued until 2:45 while you cleaned yourself, changed clothes, put on a fresh pad, took some painkillers, and changed the sheets. It paused for about an hour until you woke up again at 4:00, courtesy of Gotham’s patented night-life that had taught you to completely tune out the sound of police sirens. Tonight, however, they weren’t tuning out.

The sirens quieted at 4:10, by which angry tears collected in the corners of your eyes as you flopped around in bed in an attempt to get comfortable. No matter what you did, there was always something wrong; the pillow was too hard, the blanket was too scratchy, the position hurt your arm.

From 4:11 to 4:12, you screamed into your pillow.

By 4:15 you had settled in front of the TV with a bowl of dry cereal (it took everything in you not to cry over the lack of milk in your fridge), a heating pad, and your favorite comfort show queued up.

At 8 AM you managed to drag yourself to work, where you half-assed the day’s tasks, took a 15-minute break to cry in your car, then dipped out a half-hour early.

Now, at 5 PM on a Friday evening, you’re curled into the fetal position in front of your TV with your comfort show resumed and your trusty heating pad cranked to the highest setting. Prepared to spend the entire night here, you already changed into pajamas and kept a couple blankets within reach. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, and you stretch to reach it, careful not to lose your comfortable position or roll off the couch.

Jason About to leave Be there in 20

You groan out loud. You want to throw your phone across the room, but decide against it because no amount of hormones from hell are worth six hundred dollars. You’re still angry, though, for being so stupid as to forget about the date you had planned for tonight. Scrolling up to earlier messages, you see another text from today wishing you a good morning and telling you he was excited to see you tonight. But, too down to bother checking any messages today, you had missed it.

You I can’t tonight anymore I’m sorry I don’t feel great

After hitting send, you place your phone on the ground, not even having the energy to reach for the coffee table again. Or the energy to lift your arm back up, apparently, given how it hangs limply over the edge of the couch. You feel guilty about cancelling, but you are in no state to go out tonight. You’re used to the symptoms of your period hitting so hard. As much as you and Jason care about each other, you’re not sure you’re ready for him to see you like this. You’ve managed to plan your relationship around your hormone cycle so far, but today it came early.

Your phone’s buzzing is muffled by the rug, and you almost don’t hear it. Jason’s photo is displayed on the screen.

Your hanging hand clicks ‘answer’ and puts it on speaker so you can take the call without moving from how you're curled up.

“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine, I just don’t feel up for going out tonight. I’d rather stay home.”

“Did something happen?”

“No, I just got my period so I’m not really in the mood.”

“Okay, we can stay in tonight. What do you feel like eating? I can pick something up.”

“No, Jason…I want to stay home alone tonight.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line.

“Okay…did I do something?” His voice comes out a little smaller.

“No, you’re fine, I promise. I just don’t feel like seeing anyone right now.”

“…Not even me?”

Your hand presses against your temples to soothe the building tension headache. The self-doubt in his tone brings the anguish of the entire day bubbling up your throat. You feel like the worst person in the world. Exactly how you don’t want him to see you.

“Jason…it’s not you. I just…I feel like shit right now, honestly. Everything hurts, I’m miserable and sad and angry at everything, I’m breaking out all over.” You feel yourself welling up at all these little stresses coming out. “I’m craving everything but feel too sick to eat anything…I feel pretty disgusting right now, and frankly, I don’t want you to see me like this.” You finish your rant with a sniffle. You wipe your nose, trying to hold back the sob that’s threatening to break through. But at his silence, your worst, most improbable fears claw their way to the surface: he hates you now. You scared him away. You exhale heavily into your sleeve as more tears spill.

The phone is quiet for a long moment. Then; “I could never find you disgusting,” he says, gently. “But if that’s what you want, then we’ll reschedule.”

“Thank you. And sorry.”

He speaks with a tone you can’t quite parse. “Don’t apologize. Just feel better.”

It’s one hour after your phone call, and at the first knock, you know who it is. Who else could it be? With that soft, somewhat hesitant, one-knuckle rap on the door. Only one person knocks on your door like that.

“Jason, I told you not to come here,” you say a little more cutting than you intend to, but your back and shoulders feel like they’re about to snap under a phantom pressure and the frustration of your request being outright ignored leaves a burning bitterness that channels itself into a violent wrenching open of the door.

He jumps a little at the abruptness of your greeting. One look at your face and he visibly deflates.

“I’m sorry…I know you said not to come, but…” his gaze casts downward to his hands. You follow; he’s clutching a reusable grocery bag. Peeking out of the top is a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream. The ice cream carton’s condensation seeped through a small patch of the cloth bag and dripped onto the other items; a bushel of greens, among some other fruits and vegetables, as well as a parcel of brown paper that was fastened closed with a twine string. You return your gaze to his face.

“I think—” he cuts himself off, free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Then he drops his hand and sighs. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. You told me not to come here and I ignored you, but I thought…” he trails off, probably hoping you’ll say something so he can gauge your reaction.

You just stare at him.

He shifts his weight back and forth. His hand twitches.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll—”

Then, you burst into tears.

Jason’s eyes widen. He reaches out to touch you, then stops himself. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, this was stupid. Please stop crying, I’m so sorry—” He’s panicked, trying to calm you down with apologies and soothing assurances that he will leave immediately and never go against your wishes again. All the while you stand in the doorway, blubbering like a toddler with a skinned knee, new tears forming faster than you can wipe the old ones away.

He once again raises a hand towards you, before it stutters, then clenches into a fist as if it takes all his strength to fight against the instinct to be close to you, fighting against the string that tethers him to you. He drags his hand down his face, then it falls back to his side.

“Okay, I—I’m leaving now. I’m leaving. Do you…want this?” He holds the bag out to you.

With it now in front of you, its further contents are visible. You manage to tamp down your tears enough to get a few words out.

“Did you—hic—buy me groceries?”

“Yeah…” There’s a wince in his tone, as if he’s only now realizing that his gesture is not translating as he intended.

You look back up at him with pursed lips and knitted brows, sniffling. Sure, the ice cream you can understand, but…you have no idea what to make of the rest.

The bag drops back to his side. “I figured…it’s just— it’s the stuff that you’re supposed to—” He strokes his palm over his mouth, eyes screwing shut for a moment. He huffs at himself, then continues. “I mean I’m sure you already know all of this, so maybe you already have all these things, and now I’m realizing how unnecessary all this was, and I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Jason,” you say. Your upset has since been overshadowed by something else, though you can’t tell what it is. And your crying has stopped, but its lingering effects have you feeling congested and a little foggy. You’re half expecting this to be a fever dream that you’re moments away from waking up from in a cold sweat.

“—because obviously you know what helps you feel better much more than I do—”

“Jason.”

“And you— yeah?” His eyes are a little harried when they find yours again. But off your tired and still-confused look, he gets the message and collects himself.

“Right, yeah, I just thought that…maybe I could bring you some of the stuff with all those minerals that are supposed to help women when they’re…menstruating.” He briefly breaks eye contact at the end of his sentence, red rouge creeping up his neck.

You can’t help it; you start to giggle. You can’t remember the last time you heard a man use the term ‘menstruating’ in a non-medical context. And the fact that he’s so shy about it— upset as you may be (though not at him), there’s no denying how adorable your boyfriend is. His head shoots back to you as your laughter intensifies. He blushes harder.

“It’s not that funny,” he mutters.

You step away from the door, finally closing the space between you, and wrap your arms around his torso. Your head nestles into his chest. He gently drops the grocery bag on the ground and reciprocates your hug. He rests his chin on your head, which fits perfectly under his. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. You breathe him in.

“Sorry I’m such a mess,” you murmur into his shirt.

He breathes into your hair. “You have nothing to apologize for. And you’re not a mess.”

You look up, chin resting in the space between his collarbones. He looks down at you with a small smile, but some wariness is still etched into his features. Fear of unwittingly upsetting you again. He brings up a hand to push some hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. His hand remains there, toying with the hair that falls below your shoulder.

"Thank you for the food,” you whisper. The moment feels too intimate to speak any other way.

“I’m sorry for not listening to you. I just…” He imitates your quietness, like his admission is also too vulnerable to say loudly. “I really wanted to see you. And I hated the idea of you feeling bad about yourself, or being in pain. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Your eyes feel wet again. The first instinct is to hide your face, maybe press it to his chest once more. But, for some reason, you don’t. You want him to see you like this, messy and emotional and upset. You want him to see every part of you, and you want to see every part of him, the good and the bad.

“You didn’t.” A tear slips past the effort to keep it at bay. He shows no reaction to it, eyes never leaving yours, other than a quick swiping away with his thumb. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. That’s why I was crying. Not because you showed up.”

“That doesn’t seem right. This is nothing. You deserve even more.”

With no words to fully, adequately communicate the blooming in your chest, you stand on your toes, reaching up to him for a kiss. But given his stature, your lips only reach his chin and brush over its underside.

At your quiet whine, he chuckles and leans down to meet you in the middle. The kiss is soft; filled with the innocence of fresh blossoms in the spring, and the sweetness of its borne fruit.

You pull away when a vicious cramp roots you back to the present. Your limps tighten around Jason with a groan.

“I need to go back inside. I’ve been away from my heating pad for too long.”

His shoulders sag when you step away from him. “Oh, um…do you still…want me to leave?”

With a simple exhale of humorous disbelief, you grasp his hand in yours and tug him to your front door. He’s like an excited puppy, eyes brightened and perking up as he grabs the grocery bag and happily trails after you.

He goes straight to the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the counter for you to settle into, then sets the bag on the counter. The ice cream carton has dampened most of the cloth by now, and likely the rest of its contents, but rather than attending to the groceries, his first action is retrieving your heating pad from where it rests on the couch. He unplugs it from the wall outlet and brings it to you. You curl up on the chair with it pressed flat against your lower stomach. It only takes a minute for the pressure in your hips to abate.

Then he moves to the groceries. The ice cream immediately goes in the freezer, and he unloads what’s remaining onto the counter, one by one, and you take note of each item. There’s spinach, carrots, apples, oranges, dark chocolate, some kind of meat wrapped in brown paper, and, strangely enough, an entire block of cheese.

You give him a quizzical look, picking it up to read the label. “You got me…cheddar cheese?”

He retrieves a cutting board and knife from its spot next to the sink, then takes the cheese from you. “Good for certain symptoms.” He slices open the plastic wrapping and cuts out some cubes with skilled efficiency. He does the same with an apple. “They all are,” he says, referring to his entire haul. He completes the makeshift charcuterie board with a couple squares of dark chocolate and slides it across the counter.

You look down at the cutting board, thinking about everything he’s done for you; everything you never even had to ask for. The words sit on your tongue, encaged by your clenched teeth; an admission that coils itself around your spine and squeezes tight, restricts your breathing and pumps your heart at thrice its speed. But you feel yourself welling up again, and the first bout of tears already exhausted you so much that all you can manage is, “I don’t know what to do with all this. I don’t have the energy to make anything good.”

But he just smiles and says, “That’s what I’m here for, honey. Can I make you something?”

You nod. He gets to work. The immediacy of his actions, how he takes no time to decide on a dish or find a recipe, makes you think his previously stated intentions of ‘just dropping this off’ were less genuine than he lead you to believe. Nevertheless, you munch on the snacks he laid out for you and watch him work. The cheese and apples are a surprisingly cohesive combination, the meshing of sweet crispiness and savory creaminess eliciting a contented sigh from you. You try to ignore the way Jason smirks in the corner of your periphery. The chocolate is incredible, yet unfamiliar. You read the label on the packaging: 80% Dark Chocolate with Cherry and Almond Filling. Even if you hadn’t tasted it yet, the quality of the packaging itself would have been enough to let you know that this chocolate is extremely high-quality. Like, special-order-from-Europe quality. Not stop-at-the-grocery-store-on-the-way-home quality.

“Where is this from? Did you buy this today?” You ask him through a mouthful of the rich, melting chocolate.

He doesn’t look up from the carrots he’s dicing. “Uh…no.”

Anyone else would attribute his avoidance of eye-contact to standard kitchen-knife caution. You are not anyone else. You could blindfold him, spin him around ten times, put a sharp knife in his hand, and he could still pull off a perfect julienne. You look closer. His cheeks are dusted with pink.

You let out a laugh. “Jason, you’re not embarrassed about liking fancy chocolate, are you?”

“No! Not at all,” he says, ceasing his chopping. He looks up, but not quite at you.

“Then?”

“‘Then’ what?” He asks.

“Then why are you being so shifty right now?” You try to catch his gaze.

“I’m not!” He defends. “It’s just chocolate! Do you like it? I’ll bring you more.” He’s stealthy with the way he avoids your eyes; you almost can’t notice how hard he’s trying not to make eye contact.

“Jason!” You reach across the counter, having to rise off the chair slightly, and take his face in your hands, making him look at you. When he does, he wears a sheepish smile.

“It’s…” His removes your hands from his face, holding them in his. He mumbles something, turning his head to the side. But you catch the tail end of it, a goading grin already creeping up your face.

“What was that?” You tilt your ear towards him, exaggerating the action.

“It’s Bruce’s.” He, in turn, exaggerates the enunciation, rolling his eyes at your simpering. “I…found it. In his pantry one day. And I liked it, so I took it. And then I…kept taking it. Every time I visited.”

You pout teasingly. “And you’re ashamed to admit that you think he has good taste in something?”

He doesn’t say anything, only hiding his face in his shoulder. You pull on your intertwined hands and he gets the message, skirting around the kitchen counter to come closer.

“You are so adorable, you know that?” You say. You reach up and pinch his cheeks. He swats your hands away, but there’s no mistaking his broad, childish grin for anything but affection.

He breaks off another square from the chocolate bar and holds it to your lips. You bite off a small portion, then push it back to him. He takes the remaining piece in his mouth and his eyes close for a brief moment as he savors the sweet, tart, and nutty flavors. You simply watch, entranced by him. Then, he kisses you. You lean into it, hands sliding up his shirt to grip the fabric and bring him even closer. His hold finds your waist.

He tastes like cherries and dark chocolate.

He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead on yours, and you want to tell him that. That, and so much more. But from the look on his face, the way his eyes find yours and the tips of his ears have a similar heat to the one in your chest, you can tell he already knows.

when it comes to jason's post-pit-repressed-teenager characterization (aka despite being older he's still as inexperienced and confused and insecure about the world outside of vigilantism and w/ women as a 15 y/o would be) (aka my favorite characterization tee hee), i think that he's mature about periods, knows they're normal and not gross or shameful etc, but still gets shy about saying the actual word, for no other reason than the 'shy around women' part always makes me giggle

also bruce is keeping the chocolate stocked specifically because he knows jason likes it and will keep taking it because he loves his son even if his son doesn't love him (he does he's just in his angsty teen 'i hate this family you don't understand me' phase rn)

divider is from here

quote at the beginning is pablo neruda <3

2K notes · View notes

with-my-calamitous-love · 5 months ago

Text

WHAT IF I CANT HAVE US?

katsuki bakugou x reader

texts katsuki struggled to send you.

part 1/3

different than what i usually write, but i thought i’d try it out

inspired by down bad

11:06 pm

kats: hey, idiot

kats: i’m sorry

11:10 pm

kats: i messed up

kats: happy?

11:18 pm

kats: ok im sorry again

kats: i just got jealous when i heard you went out with icyhot, thats all

kats: i know im the one that broke up with you

kats: but that doesn’t mean i was okay with seeing you go out with some other guy

kats: i know thats fucking stupid you don’t need to tell me

12:01 am

kats: i know you’re still mad at me

kats: i shouldn’t have freaked out like that when i saw ur instagram story

kats: shitty hair’s making me type most of this shit btw

12:53 am

kats: ok we’re alone he went to bed

kats: i can see ur online

kats: do you still have me saved with ur dumbass nickname

kats: i kinda hope you do

1:02 am

kats: i regret not texting you more often

kats: im sorry i was so dry

kats: but you’re the only person i’d ever text back

kats: i actually liked hearing from you

kats: im sorry

1:17 am

kats: i broke up with us bc i wasn’t treating you right and i went home everyday feeling like a shitty boyfriend. you deserved better

kats: i did it for ur own good, idiot

kats: especially after what i did to you

kats: i can’t ever make that up

kats: the guilt was killing me

kats: and after that i knew you deserved more

kats: but i miss you

kats: and im sorry i didn’t tell you the truth

kats: i take back everything i said

2:00 am

kats: are you asleep?

kats: whatever you’ll read this in the morning

kats: you left your moisturizer here

kats: i wish i could call you. i fucking miss your voice. im sorry

2:49 am

kats: you know ur the only person i want

kats: theres literally no one else

kats: and idk what i’ll do if i can’t have us

kats: i was an idiot to let you go

kats: im sorry about freaking out about that half and half bastard but im so much better for you

kats: i make you laugh

kats: i bet you were faking it with him

kats: even if you weren’t. lie to me

kats: i miss you

3:33 am

kats: you’re the prettiest person i have ever seen

kats: did i tell you that enough?

kats: well i’ll tell you now

kats: even if you slam the door in my face i’ll still tell you ur beautiful idc

kats: you’re so pretty it makes me angry

kats: i saw a photo of you in my gallery

kats: my mom says she misses you

3:51 am

kats: is ur apartment cold

kats: im sorry i never fixed your heater

kats: i should’ve made the time

kats: but i liked when you came to me for warmth

kats: maybe i didn’t fix it on purpose

kats: if you don’t take me back i’ll still fix it

kats: i love you like that

4:04 am

katsuki (do not answer) : have i told you that enough? that i love you?

katsuki (do not answer): im sorry

katsuki (do not answer): for not telling you i love you enough

katsuki (do not answer): for not telling you how god damn pretty you are

katsuki (do not answer): for not buying you flowers

katsuki (do not answer): for not treating you how i should have

katsuki (do not answer): i know i messed up

katsuki (do not answer): but i wanna make it right

katsuki (do not answer): you’re my whole fucking world

katsuki (do not answer): and i do love you

katsuki (do not answer): so open the door, im outside

part two soon! 🪽

2K notes · View notes

i-am-hungry-24-7 · 8 months ago

Note

Read your post about something other than angst for Simon so I have a thought that needs to get out. Morning routine with Simon. Obviously, the man is military and has a strict routine but that all goes to shit with you. Sleeping in, lazy lunch, all that cute couples shit but with Simon.

hello! tyvm for sending this idea! cute and silly couple’s domestic fluff is sweeettt!! I hope you will enjoy this :D 💖

A Day of A Cute (and Silly) Couple - Simon Riley*Reader

[6:00]

Simon doesn’t need an alarm, he automatically wakes up at 6 am.

Jogging is an important part of his morning routine when he’s on leave, a nice way to maintain his stamina, and to keep him from getting too loose.

“Where you... going...”

Oh, he forgets he has an unavoidable barrier, between him and his morning jog.

Simon looks down at you, clenching at the hem of his shirt. Your eyes aren’t even open, you just catch him in instinct and now refusing to let go.

“Go for a jog, you know it, love.” The calmness of morning makes him explain in a soft tone unconsciously.

“Stay... please...”

“You can hug your blåhaj first, I will be back soon, yeah?”

“You feel better than blåhaj...”

“...”

It’s too cruel for him to just leave you here, not when you choose him over that bloody shark you always squeeze against your body.

Simon secures the curtain so the room won’t be too bright after the sun fully rises, and lies back on the bed.

Your limbs immediately twine around him when you sense his figure is nearby, and scoots closer to him.

Jogging is important to keep him from getting loose... it’s a must for him to be strict with his morning routine...

The voices in his mind are gradually replaced by the little snores of yours as he drifts back to sleep.

[12:00]

“Can we eat fries for lunch?”

you yell at Simon who’s preparing lunch in the kitchen.

“No”

“WHYYYY!”

“UNHEALTHY!” He shouts back so his voice won’t get covered by the noise of the range hood.

okay then... you feel a bit disappointed, but you can’t come up with a convincing reason, so you just back to sweeping the floor.

just as you’re cleaning the last few spots, a scrumptious smell catches your attention, it’s not those chicken breast or salad or scrambled eggs that Simon deems healthier.

“Do you make fries?!” You knock open the kitchen door with excitement.

What you see is Simon sprinkling some salt and pepper on a bowl of fries, and he turns to you when you rush in like an energetic child.

“A few fries are tolerable” He shows you the bowl, and you can’t wait to reach out and take a bite on the crunchy and golden fries.

“Thank you, baby.” You press an open mouth kiss on your lover’s cheek.

“Don’t kiss me with your greasy mouth...”He growls, but you’re already leaving the kitchen, lilting an off-key song with the bowl of fries in your arms.

Simon just shakes his head and starts cleaning the countertop. If some fries can make you this happy, then fuck those healthy diets.

[18:00]

You two sitting face to face on the couch, the air is full of tension when you speak first.

“Mushroom”

“Mango”

“Oreo”

“Orange”

“Egg”

“g...”

“It’s over 2 seconds! Go take out the garbage, silly!”

“Fucking hell...”

Snickering at Simon’s loss, as he grumbles and on his way to grab the garbage, you add another star under your name to ‘the winner of the week’ sticky note that’s pasting on the fridge.

[23:00]

“Time to sleep.”

“but I want to watch this movie.”

“You can watch it tomorrow.”

“pleassee I want to watch it nowww Simonnn”

“...Fine.”

(00:00)

Simon looking at you sleeping like a log, whole body leaning on him and tangling him like an octopus, totally ignoring the wretched screaming from the movie, sighs and turns off the TV.

He leaves a night lamp for you, in case you need to get up for water during the night, and adjusts you two into a more comfortable posture.

He hears you mumbling something like donuts or maybe your favorite character, and chuckles quietly at how silly you are.

He already knew you would fall asleep during the movie, so that’s why he gave in, and time proves that his prediction’s correct since he’s looking at your serene face now.

“Goodnight.” Satisfied with you resting safe and sound in his arms, Simon plants a kiss on the top of your head and closes his eyes, hoping for a sweet dream that has you in it.

a/n: blåhaj sorry I love u I don't mean to harm u

#cod imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley fluff

1K notes · View notes

eternal-evergreens · 2 months ago

Text

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Into the looking glass."｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Post format: Multipart series

Pairing: Yandere!Male!DoL x Fem!Isekai!Reader

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: You gain the chance to wake up in the world of one of your favorite games. Unfortunately, the 'favorite game' happens to be one about rape, violence, and stalking. Not only that, but the game seems to be rigged against you. All you want is to find a way home and put this all behind you, but is that even possible...?

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Attempted Non/Con, Stalking, Violence, Age Gaps, Teacher/Student, Caretaker/Ward, Bullying

Color indicator: Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible

Another dull morning, you think to yourself, rolling over to turn off your alarm. You pick up your cellphone and blearily swipe your screen as you clamber out of bed. It’s embarrassing to admit, but you really didn’t notice anything was wrong until you stood up and looked in the mirror. You blink, poking at you face and staring where your reflection should be, but isn’t. You wave your hand in front of the mirror. Nothing.

You look around, only to realize that your surroundings are different, too. The room you’re in is plain, cramped, and completely devoid of character. It’s almost liminal, in a way. Eerie in its emptiness.

You need to get out of here.

You nervously reach for the door and twist the handle. The doornob moves with you, but the door remains fixed in place. Your phone buzzes, and you fish it out of your pocket, quickly turning it on. You’ve gotten a text, but the number is blank.

You have not chosen an avatar yet. Please choose one from the mirror before leaving your room.

Well, that woke you right up. Is someone watching you? You swerve your head around, checking the ceilings and corners for cameras. You try the door again. You go in circles, turning the whole room upside down. You try the door. Nothing. You check your phone. The same message appears as soon as you open it. You swipe it away out of habit, but it refuses to budge. Freaky. The time hasn’t changed since you woke up, either, though you’re sure you’ve been at it for more than fifteen minutes by now.

You decide to take a peek at the mirror again. You try to remove it from the wall to look behind, but your vision goes white the second you make contact with its’ surface. Your vision clears, and in front of you is a grey figure of ambiguous gender. It looks almost made of clay. Your phone buzzes.

Player avatar selection.

Select a sex. Sex cannot be changed after starting the game.

1.) Male 2.) Female 3.) Hermaphrodite

Well, you’ve either fallen asleep or been drugged. Not knowing what else to do, you choose female, watching in horror and fascination as the figure morphs to accommodate your choice.

>Next

Other customization options soon come up. You give the figure your ideal height, weight, and features. You change her skin tone, hair color, texture, and eye color. You watch as she slowly comes to life as your ideal. The person you’ve always wanted to be.

Your phone buzzes just as you finish touching her up.

Set Name

You’re about to name her when the text fills itself in with your name instead.

Welcome, [First]! 1. Start Game!

You grimace, and hit play.

—————————

When you come to, it’s 07:00 again, and you’re still in that room. You glance at the mirror, only to see your avatar glancing back. You wave your arm in front of it, and she mimics your movements perfectly. You make a lewd gesture, and she does, too. Creepy. Is this really a dream? You’re startled out of your thoughts as your phone buzzes once again.

Welcome to the alpha of Degrees of Lewdity!

If you want to avoid trouble, dress modestly and stick to safe, well-lit areas. Nights are particularly dangerous. Dressing lewd will attract attention, both good and bad.

The new school year starts tomorrow at 09:00. The bus service is the easiest way to get around town. Don’t forget your uniform and backpack!

1. Next

Your face pales as you read the text. There’s no way. You hit next, reminding yourself that you’re only in a dream, and that no one can harm you in a dream. Your phone opens to its home screen, where you see various apps, some of which are labled.

-Characteristics -Social -Traits -Journal -Stats -Feats

You open characteristics and take a look. At the very top is a color chart indicator. description of your body’s appearance and condition, underneath are familiar stats.

Purity: 7/7 You are angelic. Physique: 3/6 Your body is average. Willpower: 1/6 You are fainthearted. Awareness: 3/7 You have a normal understanding of sexuality. Promiscuity: 0/6 You are chaste and pure. Exhibitionism: 0/6 You are coy. Deviancy: 0/6 You are squeamish.

Everything seems to be in line with the stats for the beginning of a playthrough. Everything except one.

Beauty: 7/6 Your beauty is beyond measure.

That’s…not good, if the blaring red is anything to go off of, anyway.

You scroll down. Your skills are all ranked as F, which is actually better than the “None” stat they usually start as. That’s weird, but you aren’t complaining. Your sex skills, however…are all at C. That’s super weird! You aren’t sure what to make of it, so you choose to ignore it instead.

Your overall school performance is terrible, with F’s all around the board. In real life, this would mean you’d picked the athlete trait, but your physique is baseline, and your athletic stat is also at F, so it can’t be that. It must just be inconsistencies from being asleep, you reason. That’s why your stats are all over the place.

Your status is normal, aside from your allure. Which is maxed out at “You look like you need to be ravaged.” You shudder.

You check traits. You have two.

Alien - You aren’t from around here! RPG like elements have been incorporated into your reality for a smoother experience. Virgin - Your purity recovers faster. Your virginity might be worth something.

You open your journal.

It is the 4th of September, 2022.

-It has been 0 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn. -It is autumn. -School term starts on Monday the 5th of September.

Current quests:

Visit Bailey in his office by 20:00 tonight to recover your ID documents and gain your independence.

Failure to complete quest will result in the day restarting

You turn your phone off and look around. Everything seems normal, too normal. You read somewhere once that it’s impossible (or perhaps just very difficult) to read clearly while in a dream. Could you have been drugged? Or did you take something and then forget about it?

You pinch yourself. Ow.

Well, that’s not solid proof. People have reported cases of feeling pain in dreams before it’s just kind of really rare is all. Or, or! Maybe you’re not dreaming. Maybe you’re dying. Maybe you got into an accident somewhere, and now you’re in a coma. People hallucinate during comas, don’t they?

You pinch yourself, again.

It’s not real.

…You might as well see what this quest is about.

You leave your bedroom, and walk to Bailey’s office. You don’t question how you know the way there. You knock on the door and enter.

“I know why you’re here,” he says. “You want me to release you from my protection, so you’ll be an independent citizen. I could do that. But there’s a problem. You’ve been living under my roof without giving anything in return. You owe me. Until you pay me back, I’m not letting you go.” He picks up an envelope and flips through it. Dozens of identification documents are stored within it. One of them is yours. “£100 should do. To start with. I don’t care how you get it. Knock on doors and ask for work. Rent yourself as a footstool. Steal it, even. Just have it a week from now. Or I’ll find a way to extract value from you.”

You nod and leave his office, returning to your room.

Your phone buzzes as soon as you close the door.

Quest completed. New quest added to journal. View Now?

Y/N

You hit yes.

Time-Sensitive:

Bailey wants £100 on Sunday. Find a job and free yourself from his clutches.

That’s great and all, but maybe you shouldn’t leave the orphanage today…or ever. Not until you wake up. You decide to just download some social media apps and scroll for the rest of the day instead. You scroll until midday, when you’re stopped by your stomach growling. Can you get hungry inside a dream…? You feel uneasy as you climb off the bed. Your neck hurts from the uncomfortable position you had been in, but that’s the least of your worries right now.

You leave your bedroom and enter the main hall. A trim girl happens to be passing by your door, so you stop her and ask about when lunch is. She looks at you strangely.

“Whenever you want…? Just go somewhere and get it. I don’t know.”

“I meant here, can we get food here?”

“Sure, if you’re underage. We have to provide for ourselves once we reach eighteen, though. You know that. Everyone knows that.” She leaves in a hurry. You go back to your room to watch “Gootube” videos. It’s not as pornographic as it sounds.

You stay on your phone for the rest of the day. It never seems to run out of charge. Finally, you turn it off and climb under the covers. You don’t bother to wear pajamas. You sleep soundly, and wake up at 07:00 on Sunday, September 4th.

Wait, what?

You look at your journal again.

Journal

It is the 4th of September, 2022.

-It has been 0 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn. -It is autumn. -School term starts on Monday the 5th of September.

Current quests:

Visit Bailey in his office by 20:00 tonight to recover your ID documents and gain your independence. Failure to complete quest will result in the day restarting

But you didn’t fail your quest! You completed it and…

It’s because you didn’t get a job yesterday, isn’t it?

You sigh and climb out of bed. Off to visit Bailey again.

“I know why you’re here,” he says. God, you wish you could skip dialogue in real life. Or in dreams, you guess. Bailey wraps up his speech and you leave, this time heading outside the orphanage to look for work right after.

As expected, you bump into someone almost immediately. A voluptuous woman grabs you. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve seen all week!” She says, lunging for your clothes. You step back, but she catches you, lifting your sundress’s skirt and revealing your lace panties. You try to grab her hand and pull it away, but she’s stronger than you. She pushes you to the ground, and you land painfully on the sidewalk. You let out an involuntary yelp as your elbows scrape on the pavement. Is she really going to try and molest you out in public like this? It would appear so, as she’s currently straddling your legs with her knees, keeping them apart. You come to your senses when you feel a hand on your groin, and scream out for help.

A taut man comes to your rescue, chasing off the woman and helping you to your feet. He treats your wounds and gives you a pepper spray charge. You thank him and go on your way.

The dog pound is probably the best place to start with, you think to yourself while looking at the map on your phone. So you hop on a bus and wait for your stop, but not before a thin man sits next to you and rests his hand on your thigh. You shuffle away from him, and he follows you. You stand up, and he does, too. No one else is paying attention. You quickly walk to the most crowded area of the bus and sit next to a plush woman. She doesn’t look happy, but doesn’t say anything, either. The thin man watches you from his seat. You reach your destination, and he moves to follow you when you stand. Luckily, a tall man stops him, giving you a thumbs up as he blocks the thin man’s view of you. You give him a grateful nod and step off.

Your shift at the dogpound goes on without incident. Thugh the employees tried to get handsy more than a few times, they never took it further when you moved away. You even took your lunch break at the nearby cafe! You’re surprised by how much character the place had visually, considering it comes from a text-based game.

By the time the dog pound closes, it’s nighttime. You pale at the realization. It’s nighttime, and you’re in Degrees of Lewdity. Should you risk taking the bus? Or should you risk the streets?

If you’re on a bus, you’re there for less time, but it’s an enclosed space. If you’re outside, there’s more places to run and hide. But hiding goes both ways.

You elect to go through the streets, sticking to the places that are the most open and well-lit. You get home without incident, though you swear you saw something in the alleys.

You collapse into bed and sleep for ten hours.

—————————

It’s 07:03 when you wake up. You have school today, so you look through your wardrobe for your uniform. You find it, but…why is it so skimpy? Sheer tights, short plaid skirt, tight shirt, platform mary janes and loose socks. You put it on, but the shirt is so tight it won’t button all the way, leaving a sizable amount of your cleavage and lace bra visible.

Speaking of which, aren’t you only supposed to start with plain underwear? Why is all of yours lace? And why does it clasp at the front? You spend twenty minutes looking for a jacket, different shirt, or other way to cover yourself, but find nothing. Bailey bangs on the doors around the orphanage to wake the orphans up. You sigh and put your clothes back into your wardrobe before leaving.

You bump into Robin on your way out. Literally. He nearly runs you over.

“Hey!” He says running towards you. He doesn’t slow down in time and plows right into you. You help him up. “Thanks,” he says, looking a bit bashful. “I didn’t see you yesterday. Remember, you can visit me in my room anytime you want. I have something to show you. I’m so excited!” He runs off, and you realize you’ve forgotten your backpack, so you head back in and find it. It takes you another ten minutes to realize you’d put it behind the door. By the time you’re ready, it’s already half an hour past seven. You decide to see if Robin is still in his room.

You knock, and hear some crashing. Before you can ask if something’s wrong, Robin opens the door and hugs you. “Look,” he says, pulling you inside. Your eyes immediately land on the shiny new game console in the corner of the room. “I’ve been saving up,” he says. “What are you waiting for?” He pats the bed beside him and you hop on. You watch him play for a few minutes, and the two of you walk to school together.

Though it’s literally your first time meeting him, you feel safer around Robin. Though you know he can’t fight to protect you, having someone by your side does a lot to ease the mind. Plus, he’s one of the only decent people in the game. You’re glad, but at the same time, you’re uneasy. You wonder if he notices you’re not his childhood friend. That you look like her, sound like her, but you aren’t her. You wonder if he’d hate you, should he find out.

“Is something wrong, [First]?” You snap to attention.

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. I’m okay,” you say. “I was just kind of busy yesterday, came home exhausted but couldn’t sleep, you know how it is.” You wave your hand dismissively at him as you pass the school gates. “Where are you heading? I’d like to go with you, if that’s alright. Since I didn’t see you yesterday, and all.” Really, you just don’t want to be alone here. But there’s no need to say that.

Robin smiles, and the two of you hang out in the rear courtyard. It’s nice, but you can feel him glancing at you when he thinks you’re not looking. It makes you uncomfortable. Has he caught on? You excuse yourself and head to the library. Maybe you should acquaint yourself with the other non-crazy person on campus. At least you won’t have to lie about your identity to Sydney.

You walk over to the counter near the back of the library. A tall boy with a strawberry blonde ponytail and glasses is stamping books behind it. You smile as you approach him. “Good morning…” He says, yawning. “First time at the rental counter? You can rent out one book at a ti-” Sydney yawns.. “Time. You can also buy school-approved clothes here. Headmaster Leighton’s marked the prices way up, though. Students with a good record get special discounts.” He seems excited, though you can’t place why.

“Books can be rented out for two weeks at a time. You can renew your rental at any time…” He looks down. You look down. Sydney has stamped his hand. You smile.”...Let’s call that a demonstration of what happens if you return a late or damaged book. My name’s Sydney, by the way! Pleased to meet you.”

“I’m [First],” you respond. You and Sydney spend some time chatting. You notice that he’s oddly red.

“Are you feeling okay?” You ask, raising a hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up! Let’s get you to the infirmary!”

“W-what? No, I’m okay…”

“No, you’re not,” you say, pulling him up by the forearm. You drag him to the infirmary, and he has to bend down to allow it. No one pays you much mind, though you’re sure you look a little silly, holding onto the forearm of someone much taller than you. You reach the nurse, who informs you that Sydney is perfectly healthy, though tells him to take a rest on one of the beds upon seeing the bags under his eyes.

“See?” He says, smiling. “I didn’t realize you were such a worrier.” You flush, embarrassed. Is pure Sydney supposed to tease people? His face softens. “Thanks…for worrying about me, though” he says, then checks the time. “You should probably get to class.” Right, you’d nearly forgotten you were at school. You thank Sydney for reminding you and leave as he waves you off.

You go to your science lesson. Despite your grade being at F, the lesson is actually pretty easy to follow, some of this you remember from your own highschool lessons. The bell rings and you leave the classroom, only to get shoved into a locker immediately. A boy with blonde hair covering one eye looms over you. You recognize him immediately.

“Don’t get in my way again,” Whitney says, pressing his knee against your crotch. “Or I’ll put you in your place.” He releases you, but you know that won’t be the end of it. You hurry to math class, hoping Whitney will skip today. You’re tense for the first twenty minutes of class, but slowly begin to relax upon realizing Whitney probably isn’t going to show up. Nearly half an hour into class, the teacher River steps out for a moment. And with the kind of timing you’d only see in movies, Whitney waltzes in, his jacket thrown over his shoulder. You try to look away, but it’s too late. Whitney makes eye contact with you and grins. He walks over to the mousy girl sitting next to you.

“Move,” he says. She does. You turn away from him, but he grabs your hair, forcing you to look at him.

This is unfair, you think to yourself. Whitney isn’t supposed to sit next to you unless you’re dating. Why now?

“Watcha lookin at, slut?”

This sucks. You want to go home. When is this dream supposed to end?

Whitney tugs at your hair even harder. “I asked you a question, slut.”

How did you even get here in the first place? Did you really die? Were you in a coma? Whitney yanks your hair back so hard your body goes with it, creating an awful screeching sound as your chair lurches back. River walks in just in time to see you fall on your back. Whitney is sent out. He turns to make a penetration sign with his hands at you as he leaves.

Math ends, and you head to English. There’s a crowd of students blocking your path. You peer over shoulders and heads to see the source of the commotion, and see a dark haired student on the ground, with two bullies standing over him. Your first instinct is Kylar, but you must be wrong. Kylar’s event shouldn’t happen until a week from now.

You could try to help, but that would probably get you assaulted. Even if you didn’t, your fellow students would think less of you, leading you to getting picked on later, and potentially assaulted more and–

Fuck it, you can’t ignore this. You’re already shoving past students and blocking the bullies’ view of the student. “Leave him alone,” you say. “I won’t stand for this.” One of the bullies, a thin girl, shoves you down.

“Sit, then!” She says, the audience laughs. You pick yourself up and ram into the thin girl and her friend. You knock her off-balance and she falls to the floor, screaming as soon as she lands. “You stupid bitch! You broke my tailbone!” The audience is laughing at her, now. Her friend is helping her up. “I’ll get you for this! Mark my fucking words!” You shiver. Hopefully no one notices. You turn to check on the boy they were harassing, only to nearly bump heads with him. You jump back, and the boy smiles apologetically. There’s something else in his expression, but before you can figure out what it was, you make eye contact with him, and the whole world goes dark.

Tousled black hair, short stature, sickly pale skin and the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen. It’s Kylar. It has to be. “T-thanks,” he says. “I-I’m Kylar.” Your face drops, but you aren’t sure if he saw it before running off. The tips of his ears are red, you notice. You step towards the crowd, which is already dispersing. The remaining onlookers make way for you, though you feel a hand grope your butt as you leave. You turn, but no one’s there.

You head into English class, already exhausted. Kylar watches you from the back. You ignore him. The plump boy sitting behind you sniffs your hair during the entirety of the lesson, so it’s hard to focus. You look down at your notes. It’s an unintelligible mess. Is this what it means to have a grade F in English, you wonder?

Finally, it’s lunch time. You head to the cafeteria, passing by the headmaster on your way there. You swear you saw him checking you out. You shudder and speed up. Upon reaching the canteen, you are presented with three options.

Robin is talking with some students at his table, they seem to be arguing.

Sydney is sitting alone, several piles of books surrounding him.

Kylar is also alone, stabbing at his food with more violence than seems neccesary.

Despite your self preservation instincts, you walk towards Robin to see what the commotion is. The lean boy is accusing Robin of ‘looking at him with disrespect’. Arguing with him would be pointless. So you do the next best thing and smile as you spit in his face.

As expected, he doesn’t take it well, and pounces on you immediately. He tears open your shirt, leaving you only marginally more exposed than you already were. You scream loudly, and Leighton rushes in. You suppress a smirk.

“What’s the meaning of this?!” He shouts, pushing past students to find you exposed on the ground, the lean boy holding you down. He scrambles off of you, and you fix your uniform. The lean boy tries to explain, but Leighton cuts him off and sends him out. Robin helps you up.

“Are you okay?! Why did you do that?”

“I saw Leighton on the way over here. I figured if we caused a scene, he’d be the one to get in trouble for it.”

“Don’t do something like that again! That was really dangerous!” You nod, though you don’t really mean it.

Kylar watches from across the canteen. +Jealousy

The rest of lunch passes without incident and you go to History with Robin. The two of you chat about his game before class starts. You learn some interesting things about the history of the town. Nothing happens during history, and you leave feeling refreshed. You navigate the halls to your swimming lesson and change. You keep your eyes down, but swear you feel the stares of your classmates. You think you hear a camera go off, but when you turn, no one’s looking at you.

A taut boy follows you around the pool, and doesn’t stop trailing until the lesson is over. He keeps his distance, but it still makes you feel uneasy. The bell rings, and you don’t see him again.

You meet up with Robin in the courtyard, but hesitate walking home when you see Whitney hanging out by the gate.

“Can we go out through the back?”

“The back? Why?” You nod your head towards Whitney and his friends, and Robin makes an ‘O’ with his mouth. “I don’t mind, but how will we get out?” You’re about to answer when a realization hits you. Right. You haven’t unlocked the tunnel outside yet, which means you can’t leave unless you climb the fence.

“...Nevermind,” you say. “Maybe they won’t notice us.” You and Robin try to blend in with the crowd, but a hand on your shoulder quickly yanks you into the open.

“Hold it, slut.” Shit. “You didn’t pay the toll.”

You grit your teeth. “What’s the toll?” Whatever, you have twenty quid to spare.

“Flash us your tits.” There’s a crowd circling around you. You notice people pulling out their phones.

“[First]...”

“It’s fine, Robin.” You give him a strained smile as you unbutton your blouse. “Happy?” You ask, turning back to Whitney.

“Not quite,” he says, grabbing the front of your bra and unclasping the hook. Your breasts flop out. “There. That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” You turn and quickly fix your bra, wishing it clasped at the back instead of the front like a normal bra. You and Robin speed away, then find a secluded ally to fix your shirt.

Finally home, you decide to check out some of the apps you didn’t bother with yesterday.

Social

Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible

Primary relationships:

Robin The Orphan Robin wants to be your best friend. Love: 100% Confidence: 0% Trauma: 0% Lust: 40%

You smile. It’s little different than the starting relationship in the actual game, but you’re slowly getting used to the inconsistencies. You’re about to look at the next box when your eyes are drawn back up to the pink text. Wait a minute, doesn’t that mean bad? You check the color chart to make sure.

But, why? Why is that bad? Isn’t it good? Or, is it because his confidence is low? Maybe the key word here is “wants”. Still, wouldn’t that count more as poor than bad? Whatever, no need to nitpick. You’ll check back in on it later. You move on.

…You almost move on. Why is his love so high? And his lust, too?! It’s gotta be a glitch, right? Right?

Right. You restart your phone and boot it back up. Nothing’s changed. You put that aside for now.

Whitney The Bully Whitney wants to own you. Love: 50% Dominance: 50% Lust: 100%

Another different one. Also bad. Terrible, even. You aren’t even sure what to make of it. You just met him, and his lust is already maxed out. His love is also surprisingly high, though only half as much as Robin’s is. You make a mental note to sit in view of the teacher during math going forward.

Kylar The Loner Kylar is obsessed with you. Love: 100% Jealousy: 55% Lust: 90%

Another case of inexplicably high stats right off the bat, though you aren’t surprised with Kylar. You move on.

Sydney The Faithful ? Sydney is conflicted. Love: 77% Purity: 44% Lust: 66%

Okay, you’re pretty sure those are all just angel numbers. Or, supposed to be angel numbers. It’s kind of hard to do that with only two numbers. Though 666 is actually more of a demonic number, it still fits the theme. Aside from the strange percentages, you’re also concerned by the question mark next to ‘faithful’, not to mention the fact that his purity is already so low he��s conflicted. You haven’t even flirted with him yet!

You glance at the other named NPC’s. They’re all unremarkable, full of “has no strong opinion of you” aside from two.

Bailey The Caretaker Bailey doesn’t want you to leave. Love: 25% Lust: 99%

Leighton The Headmaster You’re Leighton’s favorite. Love: 10% Lust: 85%

Your stomach lurches. Gross. You are absolutely repressing that shit.

You check your reputation next.

-The police aren’t concerned with you, and have no evidence linking you to any crime. -The atmosphere in the orphanage is calm. -You are considered a normal student by teachers. -Your fellow students desire you.

You grimace at the last one. You make a mental note to buy a more concealing uniform.

Finally, you have your fame. This one should be normal, right? You’ve only just gotten here.

Sex: Unknown Prostitution: Unknown Rape: Obscure. Beastiality: Unknown Exhibitionism: Unknown Pregnancy: Unknown Combat: Obscure Kindness: Obscure Business: Unknown Socialite: Unknown Overall: Famous

What?! Famous?! How does that— Ugh, forget it. You keep reading.

The townsfolk call you Darling. Those in the criminal underworld call you Darling.

…?

What…what does that mean?

—————————

Next>

798 notes · View notes

neferaskingdom · 3 months ago

Text

♡ From Podiums to Playpens | LN4 & OP81

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: Lando and Oscar’s lives take a wild turn when an unexpected baby crash-lands at their doorstep. With zero parenting skills and all the wrong instincts, they bumble through diaper disasters and frantic calls, discovering that the only thing harder than winning a Grand Prix is keeping a tiny human alive!

A/N: Inspired by the fanart @mecachrome did of Oscar and Lando holding the baby, though this is exactly the opposite of what happened in the artwork 😝. Also I can't confirm if this will have a part 2 or not so sorry to everyone in advance for that and the cringey song at the end 🫠.

LANDO NORRIS MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST | OSCAR PIASTRI MASTERLIST

Oscar Piastri had a problem. A big, life-altering, scream-inducing problem.

He was many things: a rising Formula 1 star, a recent Monaco resident, and a man who liked things calm and orderly. What he was not, however, was someone equipped to handle finding a baby on his doorstep.

Yet, here he was.

At 8:00 AM, standing in the doorway of his new Monaco apartment, staring at a very real, very giggly baby girl bundled in pink. She was nestled in a stroller beside what looked like a mountain of baby supplies, completely oblivious to the fact that she’d just detonated Oscar’s entire sense of normalcy.

He stared blankly at the tiny human swaddled in pink, her wide, curious eyes blinking up at him as she gurgled happily in her stroller. His brain was stuck in neutral, wheels spinning but going absolutely nowhere. There was a baby on his doorstep, and not in a cute, ‘aww, how nice’ way. This was in the ‘what fresh hell is this?!’ kind of way.

Oscar re-read the note attached to the stroller for the tenth time.

Oscar blinked, reread the note, then blinked some more. “Tim? Who the hell is Tim?!”

Dear Tim,

I’m leaving the country. You can take care of Amelie now. She’s your daughter too. Good luck.

��Evelyn

This was not Oscar’s baby. Oscar had no babies. Babies did not spontaneously appear in Formula 1 drivers’ lives, certainly not on doorsteps. But there she was, this tiny little bundle of chaos just... chilling. Like she was meant to be there, like this was her grand entrance into his thoroughly unprepared life.

Panic hit Oscar like a sledgehammer. He paced in frantic circles, one hand on his phone and the other on his head, like physically holding onto his hair would stop his brain from leaking out of his ears.

He needed backup. No, he needed a miracle.

Oscar frantically dialed the only person dumb enough to know what to do in a situation like this: Lando Norris.

The phone barely rang twice before Lando picked up, sounding as annoyingly chipper as ever. “Hey, Osc! What’s up?”

“There’s a baby on my doorstep.”

There was silence on the other end.

“...What?”

“A baby. There is a living, breathing baby. On. My. Doorstep.”

Lando laughed, but not the good kind of laugh, the kind that suggested he thought Oscar was messing with him. “Mate, what? You sure it’s not a prank? Did someone send you one of those doll things? Is it like, a fan thing?”

“I’m not joking, Lando! There’s a real baby with a note that says I’m supposed to take care of her. Only, I’m not Tim. I don’t even know who Tim is! She’s right here, staring at me. What do I do?!”

Lando, clearly suppressing laughter, said, “Okay, okay, calm down. I’m on my way. Hold the fort, mate.”

“Hurry!” He said, squatting down, staring at the baby like she was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode into tears, vomit, or... whatever babies did. “Please don’t cry,” he whispered. “I’m not built for this.”

Twenty minutes (that felt like twenty years) later, Lando burst through the door with all the grace of a caffeinated squirrel, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Where’s this mystery baby? Let me see the little rascal!” Lando scanned the apartment and spotted the baby, his face lighting up like it was Christmas morning. “Oh my God, look at her! She’s so tiny!”

Lando immediately dropped to his knees and scooped up Amelie without hesitation, hoisting her into the air like she was Simba from The Lion King. “Aw, hi, Milly!”

“Milly?” Oscar repeated, a horrified expression plastered on his face. “You already named her?”

“Amelie’s too formal for a baby, don’t you think?” Lando said, casually ignoring Oscar’s panicked state. He bounced Milly in his arms, pulling silly faces at her. “See? She loves me.”

Oscar stared at him in disbelief. “Lando, focus! We need a plan! We’re not renaming the baby; we’re getting her out of here!”

Milly just let out a joyful giggle, tiny fists batting at Lando’s face. Oscar’s eyes widened in horror as Lando juggled the baby like a sack of flour, his nerves stretched thinner by the second. “Lando, stop! You’re gonna drop her! Babies are fragile!”

“Nah, she’s tough. Look at her! Strong grip. Good potential for karting,” Lando said, wiggling his fingers in front of Milly’s face. “Who’s a future world champion, huh? You are!”

Oscar grabbed the back of the couch like it was his last lifeline to sanity. “This is insane. We’re not keeping her. We need to call someone. Her real dad. Where the hell is Tim?!”

“Oh, relax,” Lando waved a hand dismissively, “it’s just babysitting for a few hours. How hard can it be? The mom even dropped off all the supplies we might need!”

Turns out, it was really fucking hard

By midday, the chaos had reached DEFCON 1. Lando had somehow managed to knock over a stack of baby formula cans in the kitchen while Oscar was trying to decipher the instructions on how to make a bottle.

“This says... 50ml of water for every scoop of formula,” Oscar muttered, staring at the weird spoon-thing. “But how big is the scoop? What the hell is a scoop measurement?”

Lando, who was now wearing Milly in a baby carrier that he had insisted on trying out, leaned over the counter and squinted at the instructions. “It’s like... a baby science experiment. Just add more water, it’ll balance out.”

“That’s not how science works, Lando!”

“Sure it is!” Lando grinned, opening the microwave to heat the bottle, but then proceeded to accidentally set it for five minutes instead of thirty seconds. How someone even manages to do that Oscar will never know.

Inevitably the bottle exploded.

Milk sprayed everywhere, coating the inside of the microwave in an unholy mess. Oscar screamed. “What did you do?!”

“I thought that’s how long babies need it!” Lando yelped, staring in horror at the milk-splosion.

Milly, blissfully unaware of the carnage, was happily chewing on one of Lando’s shirt buttons.

Oscar stared at the ceiling, praying for strength. “We are going to kill this baby. We’re going to accidentally kill her.”

Lando, ever the optimist, patted Oscar on the back. “Nah, babies are resilient. They’ve got, like, soft heads, right? So they can handle stuff.”

“That’s the opposite of what soft heads mean, Lando!”

Lando grabbed a spoon and casually scooped up some of the spilled milk, giving it a taste. “Hmm. Tastes weird.”

“STOP EATING THE BABY’S MILK, LANDO!”

After the bottle fiasco, they decided to tackle diaper duty. Or rather, Oscar decided, while Lando found new and creative ways to not help. At one point, Lando was making airplane noises with Milly’s pacifier while Oscar sat cross-legged on the floor, furiously Googling “how to change a diaper without gagging.”

“This can’t be that hard,” Lando said confidently, grabbing a diaper and attempting to strap it onto Milly’s squirming body. He failed. Multiple times.

“You’re putting it on backwards,” Oscar muttered, half in disbelief.

“Am I? Wait, which side is the front?”

Oscar was too stressed to even respond, choosing instead to help flip the diaper the right way around. But Milly had other ideas. She kicked her tiny legs, laughing as both boys fumbled with the diaper tabs.

After several failed attempts and at least two accidental kicks to Oscar’s face, they stood back and admired their work. The diaper was barely holding together, half askew and duct-taped in place because Lando thought duct tape “solved all problems.”

Oscar looked like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. “We duct-taped a baby.”

“She seems cool with it!” Lando pointed at Milly, who was now rolling around happily in her makeshift duct tape diaper. “Duct tape solves everything!”

Oscar grabbed his phone. “This is not sustainable. I need to call someone. We can’t keep doing this. I need to find Tim.”

Several hours later, after a very frustrating call with his real estate agent, Oscar finally got a number for Tim—the previous tenant, who, as it turns out, had moved to America.

Oscar punched in the number, already bracing himself for the nightmare conversation ahead. Lando sat cross-legged on the floor, Milly in his lap, reading her a book that was upside down?

Tim picked up after a few rings, his voice groggy and irritated. “Hello?”

Oscar wasted no time. “Timothy?! It’s Oscar. I live in your old apartment in Monaco. Listen, there’s a baby here. Your baby. Evelyn dropped her off with a note and now she’s... well, she’s here, with us. What do we do?!”

There was a brief silence, followed by a sound like a man whose soul had just left his body. “Oh, fuck,” Tim groaned. “Evelyn left her? Again?”

“Again?!” Oscar sputtered. “This is a thing that she does? she just goes around... leaving the baby lying around like a sack of potatoes?”

Tim let out a frustrated sigh. “Listen, man, I’m in New York, okay? I got stuck with this job, corporate America’s been eating me alive. I’m lucky if I can get ten minutes of daylight. I haven’t even unpacked yet and now you’re telling me Evelyn just dropped Amelie off without a heads-up?”

Oscar’s jaw was clenched so tight he thought his teeth might crack. “She didn’t just drop her off—she basically abandoned her and ran! What am I supposed to do with her? I’m a Formula 1 driver, not... not a babysitter!”

Lando, overhearing this, piped up helpfully, “We duct-taped her diaper! Worked like a charm.”

Tim screeched on the other end. “You what?”

“Look, it was either that or she’d be laying around butt naked,” Oscar said, rubbing his temples as he paced. “Focus! I need you to come back and get her, like, now. Please.”

“Man, I wish I could!” Tim sounded frantic now, as if the weight of the universe had just been dumped on him. “But I’m up to my neck in work! I’ve got back-to-back meetings, deadlines, projects—I can’t just hop on a plane!”

“Are you kidding me right now? You can’t just leave your baby with two random blokes! What kind of corporate job is this? Are they holding you hostage?”

Tim let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh yeah, might as well be! Thanks, late-stage capitalism. I’m chained to a desk, and Evelyn’s probably off somewhere sipping cocktails while you two... duct-tape diapers together?!” He sounded like he was spiraling. “Why is my life like this?”

Oscar was losing his grip on sanity. “What are we supposed to do, Tim? We’re trying here, but we can’t even heat up a bottle without blowing up the microwave! She’s going to be in worse shape than we are if this keeps up!”

Tim let out an exasperated groan. “You think I’m not freaking out here? I don’t want to leave her with you two! But I can’t do anything about it! I’ll have to talk to my boss, and that’ll take days—corporate policies, you know how it is.”

Oscar slumped against the wall. “Tim, I swear to God, if you don’t get on a plane soon, Lando will start raising her to be the next world champion, she’ll probably know more about tire degradation than I do by the time you’re back!”

Tim started to ramble, sounding more unhinged by the second. “Oh, I’m gonna kill Evelyn. I swear, if I ever make it out of this job alive, I’m flying back just to wring her neck. She’s gonna pay for this, and I’m gonna—”

Oscar interrupted him, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tim, focus! Just tell us what to do. You’re the dad, for God’s sake!”

“I DON’T KNOW!” Tim practically shrieked, his voice going full meltdown mode. “Change her, feed her, keep her alive! That’s all I’ve got. Just... just don’t screw it up!”

“Don’t screw it up?!” Oscar was losing his mind. “That’s your parenting advice?”

Tim sighed heavily. “Look, I’ll try to get there as soon as I can. Maybe two weeks, tops. In the meantime, you’re it. You’re her only hope.”

Oscar stared at the phone, incredulous. “Two weeks?!”

“Yeah, yeah, two weeks. You’ve got this, man,” Tim said hurriedly, like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone. “You’re a driver. You’re adaptable. Just, uh, adapt to... fatherhood.”

Oscar hung up, staring blankly at Lando, who was now trying to teach Milly how to fist bump.

“So... what did he say?” Lando asked, not looking up from Milly’s tiny fist.

Oscar felt like his life was spiraling out of control. “He’s not coming back for two weeks.”

Lando, completely unbothered, grinned. “So… we’re keeping her?”

Oscar buried his face in his hands. “We are not keeping her. This is temporary. I am not a dad, and I’m not about to become one!”

Lando shrugged, giving Milly a finger to grab. “Relax, Osc. It’s just babysitting. We’ve got this.”

Oscar collapsed onto the couch, defeated. “We’re screwed.”

Lando grinned, still blissfully optimistic. “Nah, we got this. How hard can it be?”

Famous last words.

By the time evening rolled around, Oscar was teetering on the edge of a complete nervous breakdown. His hair stuck out in every direction, dark circles framed his eyes, and he was sporting the look of a man who had seen too much in one day. Meanwhile, across the room, Lando was in his own little world, completely oblivious to the chaos he had helped create.

“Please fall asleep,” Oscar muttered, his head in his hands as he slumped into the couch. He shot a pleading glance at Milly, who was, of course, still wide awake, her big eyes blinking up at him like she was in on the joke. “Please, I am begging you.”

Milly giggled in response, showing no signs of slowing down. If anything, she seemed to be gaining more energy as the night went on. And Lando, ever the optimist, had decided the solution to everything was a lullaby.

A lullaby that had nothing to do with actual lullabies and everything to do with... Formula 1.

“Alright, alright,” Lando said, grinning like this was the best night of his life. He cradled Milly in his arms, swaying back and forth like some deranged nanny. “You wanna hear a song, Milly? ‘Course you do.”

Oscar groaned into his hands. “Lando, for the love of God, just—”

Too late. Lando had already kicked into full performance mode, belting out a song so chaotic and nonsensical it would’ve made any sane adult bash their head into the wall

He bounced Milly with every line, and to Oscar’s absolute horror, she loved it. She giggled like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard, her little fists grabbing onto Lando’s shirt as if demanding more.

“♪ Ohhh, race cars and pit stops,

Tires go screech, engines go vroom!

Zoom around the track, don’t look back,

Lap time’s dropping, we’re gonna attack! ♪”

Oscar rubbed his temples harder, as if somehow massaging his skull would stop the growing headache. “Why are you like this?”

But Lando was in the zone, not stopping for anything. He twirled in a circle with Milly, who was now laughing uncontrollably and continued the absolute madness.

Oscar looked on, his mind unraveling. This wasn’t a lullaby. This was... some kind of fever dream. Lando, still dancing around the living room like he was in a one-man musical, clearly had no idea how to get babies to sleep.

“♪ Pit lane’s calling, gotta switch the tires!

Box, box, baby, we’re dodging all the fires!

Fuel up quick, no time to chill,

We’re racing to bedtime, going in for the kill! ♪”

“Lando,” Oscar said through gritted teeth, “she’s supposed to be winding down, not revving up!”

Lando shot him a cheeky grin. “It’s working, mate. Look at her. She’s loving it!”

Milly squealed in delight, grabbing onto Lando’s face and pulling at his cheeks, while Lando just kept on singing like it was the most normal thing in the world.

We’re gonna celebrate with a chicken dinner! ♪”

“♪ Final lap, we’re almost there,

Through the checkered flag, feel the air!

Who needs sleep when you’re almost a winner?

Oscar could only groan in despair as Lando finished with an overly dramatic spin, still holding Milly like she was some kind of victory trophy. She clapped her tiny hands together, thoroughly entertained, while Oscar’s sanity crumbled just a little more.

Lando grinned as he plopped down on the couch next to Oscar, baby Milly perched on his knee like a royal princess. “See? We’ve got this.”

Oscar’s eye twitched. “Lando. Why do you keep saying that?”

Lando shrugged, completely at ease. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Oscar stared at him, wide-eyed, as if trying to mentally telepathize all of the worst possible things that could happen, starting with the fact that they were two twenty-something Formula 1 drivers responsible for a baby for the next two weeks.

Milly, still very much not asleep, gurgled happily and slapped Lando’s cheek, clearly delighted by the chaos she had caused.

Oscar leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling in defeat. “I’m not going to get a single second of sleep these two weeks, am I?”

Lando beamed at him, completely unfazed. “Nope. Welcome to fatherhood, mate.”

Oscar groaned and pulled a cushion over his face, muffling his scream as Milly giggled uncontrollably at his suffering.

This was going to be the longest two weeks of his life.

401 notes · View notes

hdmsbsna · 22 days ago

Note

Hiii, me again 🙄

I thought of a Paul x wife, who already have a family, bone a daughter older than 4 years, and a 2-year-old son and a newborn baby🫶🏻

And if you also dare, to do something of smut, also of x actress reader, if you can, I'll leave that free, as you want 🫶🏻

REQUESTED: i wrote this up last night instead of doing my finals. it was also like 3:00 A.M so if this is shit bare with me😭 this is a really short one though soooo...

pairing: paul mescal x reader (fluff)

warnings: none unless you don't like happiness.

description: reader is managing life with three kids while her husband is gone away for shooting, one more week until he comes back...or so they thought.

word count: 1,499

title: beautiful creations.

paul was gone away at work again, he’s been working on this project for about six months now. it’s been about a month since he was last home, you were used to his crazy schedule having to deal with it for so long but…the kids? they were far from used to it.

you and paul had decided to get married about three years ago. it was quite a small wedding, only family and friends, your eldest daughter, kiara, was about two when the ceremony happened. everyone discouraged you to let kiara come to the wedding considering her age but you guys made sure she was there to share the special moment, she was a part of it after all.

after a year of being married, you and paul welcomed your second child to the world…a boy. paul named him kieran, and although you weren’t a huge fan of the name at first, you admit it has grown on you. he is now two years old, and he’s such a funny little human. he is a perfect image of how his father is, when him and paul are together it’s pure chaos.

the last time paul was home was actually for the birth of your newest addition, another perfect baby girl. she was born the second week of paul’s stay back. labor with her was extremely difficult, it was unlike any of your other births. thankfully you were able to have paul by your side the whole time and about twelve hours into labor, amelia, your second daughter was born. no complications whatsoever, or at least not for her.

in my honest opinion, i think being a father was paul’s destiny. those kids are his pride and joy and he is truly an amazing father to the kids, he knows just how to talk to them and care for them. it’s truly incredible and now with three kids you have found that it’s his most attractive quality. when he’s not around, it’s not the same. which is exactly why you’re having to deal with tears from your children at 6:37 in the morning.

“BUT MOMMY I WANT TO SEE DADDY!!” yelled kieran, he may only be two but that has never stopped him from expressing his big feelings.

“you stupid, dad’s working.” your eldest replies, understanding the situation a bit better.

“hey now, kiara. we don’t call people stupid.” you sternly say.

“then why do you call daddy stupid?” she quickly retaliates.

just as you were about to respond, you hear your newborn crying through your baby monitor. you quickly walk upstairs to go get her, you figured she would be hungry so you grab her bottle on your way there. she stops crying and starts fussing once she senses your presence, you pick her up and immediately put the bottle to her mouth. you then walk back out to the kitchen where the kids are still arguing over the absence of your husband. you immediately step in once you hear your daughter call your son a “little bitch”.

“okay okay, that is enough from the both of you!” you raise your voice. “kieran, honey, your dad is going to be back very soon. just one more week, only seven days. go bring me two pieces of paper while i talk to your sister.” kieran leaves with his little frustrated stomps, you then turn your attention to kiara.

“now kiara, you know we don’t call people names especially not your little brother. what do i tell always say about working as a team?”

“sorry mommy..” kiara says with a small pout. “i just miss daddy so much” you aren’t going to lie and say that didn’t break your heart a little. all of this arguing and anger because they miss their father, usually it’s never this hard on them.

“here mommy.” kieran says as he hands you the pieces of paper.

“thank you, sweetie..” you grab the pieces of paper and you hand one out to kiara and kieran. “i want you each to write five things that you love about daddy, understood?”

“yes mommy” kiara responds.

“can i write more than five things?” kieran excitedly asks.

“you can write as many as you want, as long as there’s five things on that list.” you respond.

“YAY!” kieran yelled. both of them start writing, kieran can’t write very well but he’s still trying. he’s even drawing pictures for the words he can’t write. you look down, almost forgetting your baby girl was still in your arms, her bottle is laying on her chest and she’s just staring at you. you flip her vertically and put a towel on your shoulder as you start to burp her. you roam around the house and up upstairs just walking down the hallway burping her. it’s been about five minutes and she’s completely out, you go into her nursery and lay her in her crib, you set up the baby monitor and decide to just sit there for a little.

that was until you heard kieran and kiara laughing, you were interested in what they had gotten themselves into so you make your way downstairs. youre at the top of the stairs when you see paul tossing kieran up in the air, he catches your gaze and smiles. he sets kieran down back on the floor.

“hey baby girl, im home.” he says smiling. you start walking down the stairs and give him a hug, you slightly pull away to give him a peck.

“EWWWW!” your children yell in unison.

“what? am i not allowed to love your beautiful mom?” the kids just giggle and you pull away from the hug. you’re on the side of him with his arm wrapped around your waist.

“DADDY! LOOK!” kieran yells as he starts doing cartwheels around the kitchen and eventually going into the living room. “wow bud, that’s amazing!” paul says. kiara comes stands next to us. “i taught him how to do them daddy.” kiara looks up at her daddy, expecting some praise.

“well you did an amazing job sweetie” he says as he reaches down to pick her up, one arm still wrapped around you and the other holding kiara.

eventually kieran’s cartwheels come to a halt and he’s found himself extremely dizzy, tumbling and falling as he heads towards us. you walk away from paul’s arms and go to pick him up, “mommy my head..” kieran says clearly not feeling well. “yep buddy that’s what happens when you do too many cartwheels” paul says as he goes to sit on the couch with kiara. you go ahead and sit on the couch as well right next to him, you sit kieran next to paul and he climbs onto his lap right where kiara is. both children is his lap, you admire them for a bit.

all of a sudden, you hear a static cry coming from the baby monito that you set on the counter. “oop, look at that. she senses you’re here.” you say as you walk upstairs to go retrieve the last of the bunch. you walk into her nursery and pick her up from her crib, her crying immediately stopping. you walk downstairs with her and sit on the couch right next to paul, holding your baby in your arms. kiara moves off his lap and sits on the other side next to him. “here bud, im going to carry your little sister for a tad okay?” paul says, moving kieran to stand on the floor. he reaches over for his baby and you happily hand her to him. you outreach your arms to kieran so he can sit on your lap, he opens his arms and you grab him as he nuzzles his head into your chest. he’s clearly tired from all those cartwheels he had just done not but five minutes ago.

paul speaks “gosh we really did make some beautiful children, didn’t we?”

“the most beautiful.” you respond turning your head up to him, he looks down a perks his lip and you kiss him. you look over at kiara and she passed out on paul’s arms, all three of your babie now fast asleep.

“you’re such an asshole, you know that right?” you tell him with a playful smile on your face.

“i wanted it to be a surprise.” he says nonchalantly.

“the kids were having such a rough time without you.” you inform him.

“god, if only they knew how i was doing. i’ve missed you guys so much, especially you my gorgeous.” he says.

“i’ve missed you too, baby” you say resting your head on his shoulder, he reaches his lips down and gives you a kiss on the top of your head.

“i’m taking you guys everywhere with me from now on.” he whispers.

“that’s the best idea you've ever had, i love you so much.” you whisper back, letting a yawn out.

“i love you so much, baby girl.”

hope you guys enjoyed this, decided to keep it short and sweet. requests and dms are opened, feel free to get in touch. love you all!

#paul mescal x reader #paul mescal #fanfic #cute #fluff #imagines #imagine #one shot #x reader #sweet

171 notes · View notes

simp-ly-writes · 1 month ago

Text

My Love Mine All Mine

─────── · · Skyfall (pt.2)

Pairing: Alexander "Jackal" Duggan x Fem!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Alex had stayed in your apartment, he stayed in your heart, in your mind and took over every aspect of your life. So much so that you feel empty at his lack of presence after weeks... but is the "Jackal" every truly gone?

─ · · TAGS: second person perspective used, female-pronouns used, depictions of blood, gore, guns, and violence, usage of pet-names (ex. love, sweetheart, etc) swearing, fluff, HEAVY angst, hurt/comfort, dark romance, mentions of stalking , threats, and obsession.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 3,226 | PART ONE

─ · · A/N: This gets... kinda dark... hope you all enjoy lol

─────── · ·

You new that the Alexander you grew up with, played with, fought with (and bullied), was not the same man that was currently waiting for you in your bed. But you could see glimpses every time you touched and saw him smile.

Sighing and pressing your forehead against the wet tiled wall, you let the shower head rain down on the scalp, soothing your on-coming headache. You watched as the blood dripped off your hands, the stains on your tiles removed and sanitized before you shut off the water and stepped out onto them.

Patting yourself dry, you took a look through your smoky mirror and looked down to see parts of what looked to be prosthetics in your trashcan... what the fuck kinda job has Alex gotten himself into... and did I even wanna know? You thought to yourself before putting on your pyjamas and throwing your scrup's into the washing machine as your haired dried.

Checking the clock in your kitchen, it was nearing 4:00 AM as you groaned and started to pick at your salad before a voice was calling from the bedroom... it was like work never left you as your few minutes of sitting had you now rushing to the bedside.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, flinging the covers off and searching for any changes, you pick up his chin, inspecting his eyes and feeling around his head before shaking your head as he smiles, "It's been 10 minutes."

"Oh fuck off, Alex. I'm eating. You're a grown man, just wait," you lecture him, throwing the covers back on and shutting off the light. You feel his stare as you leave, stomping back and reheating the kettle again. You watch as it bubbles as you stretch out your back and shoulders. Tonight is going to be a LONG night....

Getting into bed beside Alex felt like deja vu from the sleepovers you could have at his house in order to escape your family... it felt natural how his arm snuck about your head and the way that your fingers intertwined with one another.

"Do you love me?" Alex asks, catching you off-guard. You contemplate your answer, your head not sharing what your heart speaks, "yes." He sighs out contently, "I love you too."

You listened to his breaths even out as you laid there awake... waiting for what you did not know but you stared at that rifle in your hallway, discarded in favour of... you. The metal gleamed in the moonlight, capturing its cold essence that had you shivering underneath the blankets. "Go to sleep, love," a groggy tone called out from behind you, a kiss being planted to your shoulder that has you forcing yourself to relax. Who am I laying beside?

─────── · ·

When you have woken to the sunlight coming through your sheer blinds and a record being played in your living room, you were rising in a moment, forgetting to place your slippers on as you padded your way down the hallway and towards the kitchen where an Alex was cooking eggs and pouring out coffee.

"Morning, sleepy," He teased, picking up a mug and giving to you. You warmed your hand, closing your eyes to feel the smoke upon your face before bending to look around your old friend, the dishes were done... "Thank you, A. You didn't have to do those, I mean you are injured," you say, giving him a pat on the arm before gently shoving him away to finish the cooking.

─────── �� ·

By the time your done and turning back around, the sniper rifle is disassembled all across your dining table as you place plates around its pieces. Looking at the various compartments as Alex cleans them, you take a seat across from the man, watching quietly as you sip your drink and cross your legs.

"You'll need to take another dose of pain relievers with your meal in the next half hour," you say as he only nods, continuing his... work. "Alex," you call out softly, this time he looks at you, eyes waiting as they dip towards your lips and up again.

"Yes, love?"

"I...hm, why come to me now?" You ask, foot tapping underneath the table, anxious for a proper answer. You watch his nose wiggle slightly as he stares at you, "don't lie to me, Duggan."

"I wasn't planning on it," he tries to gaslight you. "Bullshit," you call out, "I know you, Alex. If you like that fact or not. And I know when and how you lie no matter what fucked up shit you put yourself through to end up like this at my doorstop. So I'll ask you again, why. are. you. here?" you ask more coldly this time, eyes sharp and cutting through the masks he tries.

He sighs, setting down the muzzle in his lap, "I knew that you could... help. I have been keeping tabs on you, making sure your safe-"

"And why wouldn't I be?" you say with a glare, "I know the profession I choose has its faults, but what are you not telling me, Alexander?"

"I just need to know it for my own sanity. I need to know where you are, who you're seeing, what you're doing day by day," He says- you start feeling sick, that coffee rising up in your throat- burning. "My work... it does not work out for people who know any part of me and I know that you know the most... and I know that I don't have it in my to remove you so I must watch instead."

"Remove me?" you raise your voice slightly, standing, chair screeching against the wooden floors, well there goes my security deposit... Alex continues, disregarding your statement.

"But thats not your question, what is it I do? Well I am a contractor. I take a job, whatever it takes, and provide my services in exchange for cash." You slowly blink, walking further and further away as he looks more comfortable and confident in his seat- as if he has you right where he wants you.

"And that involves, a gun and being shot at?" you counter, hands shaking as that little boy running around your mind blends in with your darkest of thoughts. You can feel his blood dripping down your arms again, feel his kiss on your neck.

"Yes," and with such a simple word it can have you falling over and coughing, gripping your shirt. Alex stands, walking over and crouching, rubbing your back. For a minute you accept the soft touch before shoving him away.

"You could ruin my career, fucking everything I've worked for if you're seen with me! You kill people for money!" your mind swirls with all the news articles and announcements that play in the lobby. You grip your head, everything I worked for, gone. You look up with dead eyes mirroring his own cold and calculated ones. "Yes. I kill people for money. But I also protect. That's why you are going to help me and make sure I'm not seen," Alex tells you, hands gripping the knees you bring up to your chest. You nod watching as he smiles, "thank you, love." You now hated that word.

"Now, where's those meds?" He helps you to stand, following behind you and moving into the bathroom, deja vu again... as he sits on the bathtub, throwing his head back with a glass of water before you check his stitches and clean up the minor cuts across his hands.

He watches are yours tremor still, he holds them, bringing them to his face as silent tears stream down your cheeks. He shushes you, pulling you closer, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Everything's going to be fine, just let me do everything and you, take care of me."

─────── · ·

Your morals were out to kill you, was all you could think while running around your usual shift as you treated the never-ending wave of patients and their problems. Your eyes burned from your unrestful sleep, your heart hammered in your ears and you stumbled into the break room and crashed against the table. You should have not taken that call-in...

You took an oath to helping the people, to helping the public and providing care and assistance. But that oath was coming after you as you entered back into your apartment as Alex was holding a plank with his shirt off. "You know what I'm going to say," you begin, slamming the door closed and kicking your boots off.

Alex doesn't even look your way, just staring at an imaginary dot, his form unwavering. You scoff yet your eyes still check his side, wincing at the bead of sweat that nears your work, infection! screaming in your ear as you head towards the shower. "Can I join you?" Alex is drying the sweat off his chest, smiling down at you. "No."

─────── · ·

As time would go on and until Alexander was fully healed. You had made zero progress on understanding any more details to his work as he somehow knew everything about you, ordering in your favourite take out, knowing just how you liked the bed made and just the right ways to hold you after work.

You felt pathetic in his touch, you knew what those hands did, what they were coated in as he played with your hair and kissed your temple with a smile. You hated the way you started to relax into his embrace and how a small part of you looked forward to his company at the dining table but that was just it... company, that you desired...

So the hurt you felt for loosing yourself combined with the lingering loss of his presence as you had not seen Alex in weeks. The last moment you shared together cuddling in bed before a kiss was planted to your forehead and he was gone, not a trace of himself left in your apartment.

Taking a day off at work, you decided to treat your own loneliness as you put on your eye-liner and flattened your dress against your form with a sigh, breathing in your perfume. All you needed to do was forget it ever happened, pretend it was all in your imagination...

You had lived without Alex for nearly three decades... the rest of your life could be a walk in the park if the guy you were meeting up with tonight clicked. James Ferdinand Vanderbilt, He was an art auctioneer and philanthropist, charming you with his smile and words when attending one of your hospitals charity auctions.

He was well-off, could support you and a future family. He was estranged form his family, building a name for himself and his own business and had multiple college educations. Locking the door behind yourself and calling for a cab, you looked out the window, skies were clear with a light wind, the long daylight hours offering its light as kissing of warmth against your face as you closed your eyes. Whatever happens tonight happens...

─────── · ·

Arriving to the venue, James was already waiting outside for you as he placed a kiss to each of your cheeks. You smiled, holding his arm as you both walked into the restaurant and got lead upstairs to a private table. "Thank you for organizing this, James," you say sitting down as he pushes you towards the table before taking off his jacket and letting it hang off the back of his chair.

He pulls his sleeves up to his forearms as you view the tattoos on display, a symbol of a snake in a circle sparks a memory you can't seem to remember as you smile at one another. "It is really no worries, I wanted us to have privacy and you some peace. I know how hard your profession works." you nod and smile before turning your head down to the menu, James orders you both a bottle of wine to start as you make small talk.

Sharing favourite vacations, movies, and things you like to do in your spare time. You find James to be a bookworm and surprisingly, an ex-military officer as he points to his tattoo. "I thought I had seen that symbol before," you extend your hand, hovering over the ink as he chuckles. "Got family or friends in there now?"

You pause for a second, your smile wavering as he takes your hand, eyes soft, "you don't have to answer that, sorry that was rude of me. I have a few... friends deployed right now is all. Its hard, I know," he says as you nod again, not finding the right words before he thankfully moves conversation on. Yet a little birdie keeps pecking at your head, telling you that something is not quite right as the meal progresses.

You take a look out the window, squirting through the sunbeams glare. "Everything alright there, love," your head snaps over at the last word before you settle your features. "Sorry, thats what my... ex used to call me."

"I am really making a fool out of myself tonight, I do apologize-"

"No! Its me, I'm sorry about this all. My minds just elsewhere with work and-"

"Its mutual then?" He offers with a hand as you grab it and laugh softly, "yes, mutual fault." You both continue to dessert as you try bites off of each others plates. You have been enjoying yourself, watching as Jame's eyes have not left your face the entire time, your cheeks warm from the booze in your system.

"I don't want tonight to end," James starts to say as he picks of the bill and offers you his coat. You shrug it over your shoulders, bringing to stand, "who's saying it-" but before you can finish your sentence you hear a scream, ears ringing as glass shatters, and then your realize that scream is coming from yourself as James lies head down on the table, a bullet through the side of his head.

You rush over to his side, looking over the scene and feeling around his head. His blood is bleeding all over your hands, covering your dress and skin... he's not going to make it, as you scream from an ambulance to be called. he's not going to make it, you feel his last breath against your arm.

You cry, shaking, confused, scared. You turn to look outside the window yet can't see anything. A voice screams out to you, everyone is running outside the restaurant. You rip your dress and run, nearly falling down the stairs, knocking your head against a wall before kicking off your heels and making a dash for the back exit

Your vision is blurry as you run through the narrow space and off onto the street. Cars are swerving, trying to get out of the way as blaring lights come crashing onto the scene. You look like an absolute mess, you can feel the blood staining and hardening against your skin, forming gloves that you cant remove as you scratch at them and sob.

You fall to your knees at the corner of the road, you shake your read, James, James, James, you say on repeat before being picked up. You thrash, scream as a voice calls out to you in an even tone, "Hey, love. Shhh, it's alright, its over now. We can go home, the job is over. Thank you for being so good, thank you, my love," they speak into your ear as they dash with you in their arms, an officer points you both in the direction to medical staff.

You feel him nod and as soon as their head tips back to the crowd, you are being turned in the opposite direction. You feel overwhelmingly tired as you grip their shoulders, feeling a suit underneath your fingers tips. "James?" you call out only to hear a scoff, "Alex." the voice tells you off that has your mind jumpstarting.

"Put me, the fuck, down, Alexander Duggan." he hisses, "shut up, don't say anything."

"I'll fucking scream your name out for everyone to hear!" you threaten, being carried into another alleyway you recognize to be behind your apartment building.

"I would love that on any other occasion, love. But not when I'm trying to remove myself from a scene," Alex retorts. Entering through the shipments door and taking the cleaners elevator before setting you down on your feet, keeping an arm around your waist as you place your spinning head against his shoulder with a groan. He unlocks your apartment, you can't be bothered to know how he got a key and bolts the door behind you both before carrying you to the tub.

The Irony, you shake your head, looking down at your hands before Alex grips your chin, forcing you to look upwards. "No," he commands you, "don't look," he says before kneeling before you and helping to wash off what remains on your arms. You silently cry as he shushes you. "You're alright now, all safe. I could not believe it was you with my target. I swore that if I had known, I-I would have waited-"

"waited," you whisper. "yes, waited, love."

"Don't call me that," you spit out.

"But it is what you represent to me," Alex explains, now wipeing down your face and examining where the glass shards cut you. A part of him looks physically pained seeing you wounded. "Are you hurt?" you ask, mind on auto-pilot with the question.

"Not physically," he explains before grabbing your medical kit. "I can do it myself-"

"No. Let me do this... please," please? You think to yourself, as you watch his cold eyes stare and dress your face and hands. His touch on you if feather-light as if worried of damaging you anymore, like he hand't damaged you before. "okay," you whisper, feeling him kiss your forehead, "thank you." You shiver.

─────── · ·

You lay there in bed, staring up at the ceiling fan, unmoving, unfeeling. You hear Alex speaking to someone over the phone followed by a dozens zeros and a "...job well done." You stare, not even looking as Alexander walks back into the room in new clothes, a bouquet of flowers by your beside as he crawls into be beside you.

You feel numb... had already called in to work telling them you were taking an extended leave and left it like that... the news would be covering the "developments" of your story but you would be the only one in the world force with this truth that came into the form of kisses down your neck and curly hair tickling your cheek.

The truth whispers into your ear like a vow as you tilt your head towards the window and look outwards to the world, "Let the sky fall, when it crumbles, we will stand tall, face it all together." Yet his words contrast the melody playing through your apartment from the stereo in the living room.

You close your eyes, becoming enveloped by the darkness as their arms surround you...

"'Cause my love is mine, all mine I love mine, mine, mine Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love, mine, all mine Nothing in the world is mine for free But my love, mine, all mine, all mine.."

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: I have another Jackal fic coming out soon! (thank you for the ask ;) )

175 notes · View notes

mypastdoesntdefineme0 · 7 months ago

Text

Early mornings

Summary:you forgot to put your bra on and when joost comes home he notices

Warnings: make outs, boobs, hickeys

A/n:I know I said I would post Bambie thug hc’s but I accidentally woke up at 4:00 something am and felt like writing for joost😥

Masterlist

When you woke up joost was nowhere to be seen and you thought he must have left for one of his concerts but you thought that didn’t start until next week, after you took a shower and did your skincare routine you decided not to wear a bra you proceeded to go downstairs.

After you made some pancakes and sat down you were texting joost where is he but little did you know he was grocery shopping, you thought of reading some books for a little to cure your boredom but you decided to stay Home and probably call joost all day when he responds.

When he came home you were laying on the couch with your phone watching videos, "joost?" "ja mijn liefste?"(yes my love?) "I thought you were preforming" you said with confusion "And I thought I told you that starts next week?" "Well you did but I thought you left early"

"Je weet dat ik dat niet zou doen"(you know I wouldn’t do that) "yeah" you say with a smile and a sigh "now can you help me with these groceries?" "Mhm", while you were filling up the fridge joost noticed that you didn’t have a bra on but you had completely forgotten about it.

"Hey joost does this go into the fridge or the cabinets?" "I-um I think the cabinets" he can feel his face turning red while looking up and down at your boobs and your face "what what’s wrong?" You say in confusion "het is niets mijn liefste"(it’s nothing my love” you noticed him looking up and down and then you realize you don’t have a bra on.

But you decided to play along, after you guys were done with the groceries you chose to hug him "I’ve missed you so much joost" "I missed you too y/n” you could feel him warming up "uh hey y/n" "yeah joost" you said as you propped onto the counter "do you have a bra on- you kissed him and then another few times.

But he didn’t want to stop there "hey joost I was thinking of mayb- he smashed his lips onto yours and then he finally asked "of what?" "Hickeys?" You could see his eyes hanging low he responded "sure but let’s go to the bedroom" you followed him like a lost puppy but soon you found someone on your neck grabbing your boobs "fuck..ow!" He took small breaks in between to ask if he was hurting you in anyway "ben je oke?"(are you okay?) "yeah it just hurts a little" "then it’s working”

You were on top of joost’s lap, you never found someone in your life so lovable but yet so comforting, after joost was done he made about 3 or 4 marks but only 2 were visible from the neck the other two were on your boobs, when it was his turn you were hesitant at first "hey joost do you want me to make hickeys on your neck?" A moment of comforting silence before he responded "it doesn’t matter if the fans see them what matters is you. Do you feel comfortable with them seeing?" "I mean I don’t mind-

"besides I have makeup artist that can cover them up, there’s nothing to be worried about my love" he reassures you. You decide to start with his neck and work your way down. He would Signal you if it hurt he’ll squeeze your boob lightly or mutter behind his teeth, after you were done you made 2 on his neck and 3 more on his torso.

You guys took a long nap and accidentally woke up at 2:00 am

(I got lazy😔)

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein x you #justice for joost #joostice #europapa #eurovision #joost x reader

372 notes · View notes

maeedrg · 2 months ago

Text

GOJO X SICK READER

ᯓ★

Part 2 : sick gojo x reader

Synopsis : In which you catch a cold, and try to hide how bad you feel in front of you boyfriend, not wanting to be a burden to him. Until an accident happens, and it’s hard to pretend anymore.

Words count : almost 4k.

Warnings : fluff, slight angst, a bit of blood, angst with comfort, happy ending, pet names, death mention.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : English is not my first language, this is my second fic on tumblr ! Hope you like it.

݁ ⊹ ୨୧ ˖ ࣪ . Enjoy. ⋆ 🩹 ⇅ ˖

｡⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚｡⋆♡⋆｡⋆ ˚｡⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆｡⋆✧⋆˚｡⋆⋆ ｡⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚｡⋆♡⋆｡⋆ ˚｡⋆⊹⋆

January. What a month. It was the beginning of a new year, new resolutions for you, for Satoru, and both as a couple too. When the clock showed 00:00, your boyfriend kissed you in the intimacy of the moment, and promised you that for this new year he would spoil you even more. In the language of Satoru, it meant more candies and sweets for you to share, kisses, gifts, but above all, him making even more time for you.

No matter how busy the schedule of your boyfriend was, even as The Strongest, he managed to give you enough time to make you forget about the harsh reality of being a Jujutsu sorcerer. It even worried you, when some days ago as a new year resolution he expressed that wish. He already did so much for you, that sometimes, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that what if you became a burden to him ?

Even though he made you think the contrary, this nagging feeling in your stomach didn’t shut up and continued to whisper to you in the back of your mind whenever you saw your white haired boyfriend be mentally exhausted from all his work.

It’s for that, in that January weather, you decided to hide that you were sick. Foolish, it was hard to hide such a thing to the Six Eyes holder. In the moody morning of this new day, you felt feverish. You didn’t know if it was from the hot body of Satoru draped around you in a tight embrace, or from your own body. A growing headache starts to form in your skull, and you suppress a groan at the sound of the alarm. You already were awake, way before the stupid ringing that destroyed your ears.

Satoru shifts behind you and groans as well, extending his long arm to shut off the alarm coming from his phone. 7 A.M, great. You had a terrible night.

“You awake, baby ?” he murmurs in the crook of your neck, his hair grazing the burning skin of your nape. You softly hum, blocking a cough from your mouth that was about to escape. Satoru softly runs his hand against your stomach, grabbing the flesh of it as he butterfly kisses your sweaty neck. At the taste of your salty skin, he opens his blue eyes and makes you turn around. His orbs scan you with some carefulness as he kisses your cheek, narrowing his eyes. Did he notice something ?

“You okay, y/n ? You're sweating, even though it’s freezing cold,” he whispers to not break the quiet morning in this unholy early hour. His voice was still deep from his groggy state, eyes half open and a bit puffy. You smile at his cute face, him still concerned. Yet you couldn’t tell him you were probably sick. And adding more stress to his day ? No way. You’ll suck it up until it’s gone.

“It’s because you were stuck to me all night, I couldn’t even breathe,” you half lie.

A pout forms on his lips and he shakes his head as he hugs you back on purpose, almost suffocating you. You huff, feeling warmer now, but not in a good way.

“Yeah ? Yet you love it when I crush you in our sleep. It’s called cuddling, babe,” he states as a matter of fact.

“‘Toru, I can’t breathe like that,” you complain.

He rolls his eyes and lets you go not before kissing your forehead. He frowns again at the touch, your skin burning up. He looks at you in silence and takes your hand, making you sit back up with him on the bed. The moment you leave the cozyness of the blankets, you shiver, not knowing if now you are cold or still too hot.

“Come on, let’s go eat breakfast. ‘M starving,” he says.

Normally you are the one to force Satoru to eat breakfast with you. His bad habits made him skip meals way too often, but since dating you, he slowly indulged in a healthier life. Yet, it felt odd for him to propose to make breakfast in such an early morning when he would normally whine that he could eat later. Even more when he insisted that he’ll cook it while you stay put on the chair.

The morning goes slowly by, and no matter how cheerful your boyfriend is, eating a good meal and getting ready together in the bathroom, you feel less and less good. Satoru obviously noticed that, he wasn’t dumb. Even behind your fake smile and own cheerfulness, not wanting to worry him, your boyfriend saw right through your game.

“Tell me, baby. You got no missions today, right ?” he suddenly asks as you put on your shoes in the corridor in front of the door. You raise your head, looking at him standing next to you, already ready to go.

“I do,” you simply answer, “one in the morning, and then a quick easy one in the afternoon,” you explain further.

“Yeah, don’t go. I’ll do it myself, so you can stay at the campus,” Satoru says as he looks at you, grabbing his blindfold and toying with it, still not putting it on. Maybe to look at you better.

“What ? No need to do that, I’ll do it. Why would you in the first place ?” you shake your head, narrowing your eyes, chuckling a bit nervously as you suck up a cough that threatens to spill out of your mouth.

“Because you clearly are sick, baby.”

You freeze. Satoru analyzes you as you slowly stand up and straighten your clothes, acting cluessly at his words.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Satoru, I’m telling you-”

“Then why did you refuse my kisses on your mouth ? You never do that usually,” he continues as if this was the biggest argument he could have against you.

You blink, not even having the time to process what he said.

“Because you didn’t want to share your germs with me,” he answered his own question, and no matter how silly it looked, Satoru was damn right. You shake your head, denying it.

“It’s because…”

“Then kiss me, if you are not sick.”

Satoru steps closer to you and his large hand cradles your waist, bringing you towards his chest. He slowly caresses your skin under your clothes, slipping his fingers on your burning flesh. You shiver and turn your head away. You didn’t want to make him sick too, even more that he turned off his infinity just for you.

“Y/n,” he repeats your name. His eyes bore into you.

Seeing that you didn’t react, he sighs and softly touches your cheek, making you look at him.

“I know that you are sick, baby. You are burning up, I see how you try to not cough, and you clearly have a headache.”

Not being able to lie more, you comply and decide to play another card :

“Alright, yes. I think I’m getting sick. But don’t worry, ‘Toru. Okay ? I’m fine. I’ll put on a surgical mask, go see Shoko and everything will be fine. So don’t do my missions for me, I insist,” you end up saying, meeting his blue eyes. He smiles when seeing that you finally tell the truth, and he puts back his blindfold around his gorgeous orbs.

“Hmm, it would still be easier if I did the missions for you.”

“Satoru, you have your own schedule to fulfill today. Don’t do my work.”

“I’m The Strongest, I can handle doing your missions just fine,” he retorts a bit arrogantly, but it annoys you. On the contrary, you didn’t want him to continue to justify himself by his role as The Strongest. He needed to have his own breaks and boundaries on work, he should stop overworking himself.

“Satoru, I’m being serious right now,” you start to say as you cough, “I don’t care that you are The Strongest and that you could easily handle my work. You have to rest too,” you finish. Your headache started to get worse, and this small argument wasn’t helping at all.

“Rest ? Baby, it’s bullshit-”

“Gojo Satoru. That’s final, period,” you cut him in the middle of his sentence, turning around to put on your jacket and grabbing a mask to cover your mouth.

“Geez, yes ma’am,” he tries to lighten the mood, slightly sulking as you turn around and open the door.

He swiftly grabs you the moment you step outside, and kisses you through the tissue of the mask.

“I still wanted to have a kiss from my gorgeous lover.”

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

The day went on. At first, you went to see Shoko, Satoru literally dragged you to the infirmary. As she checked you up, saying it was just a cold, she gave you some medicine to drink. Nothing bad. After this, you went on your first mission. It was outside, in a cold abandoned street. As you exercised the curse, you felt weaker than usual. No matter how cold it was around you, the snowflakes melted on your skin because of how warm it became. You were sweating, and each passing minute started to be torture.

You didn’t have time for lunch. You lied to Satoru, your second mission wasn’t a quick one. But knowing him, he would have insisted on coming to assist you. Even if he trusted your strength and never judged your capacities as incompetent, he couldn’t shake off the worrying feeling in his gut that something could happen to you. So in his free time, (not so free, but he made you believe so), he would come with you at your missions to look at you and kill time. Well, more like to be sure everything goes well. After all, he couldn’ lose you, like he lost so many others.

The afternoon was horrible. Your battle against the second curse was painful. Not because of its cursed techniques, but because of how your body was aching like hell. Every movement made your muscles sore. Your head was pounding to oblivion, and your coughing got worse. You were suffocating in your own mask. It got late. When you finished your mission after what felt like forever, you saw the missed call of your boyfriend.

You rub your eyes, and try to warm your fingers that were as solid as rocks from the freezing wind. You simply send a text, a brief one, stating that you were on your way back home. Normally Satoru was at a meeting with the higher ups, so it’s for that you didn’t take the initiative to call him.

Thankfully, Ijichi picked you up in his black car, and drove you back to your shared apartment with your boyfriend. You were crouched back on your seat, eyes closed, trying to fight back the growing sickness in your body.

“Y/n, should I bring you to Shoko instead ? You don’t look so well,” he asks, shortly looking at you while driving carefully.

“Nah, ‘m okay. I’ll take medicine once I’m back home,” you whisper after coughing, face paler than usual and body flushed from the cold.

“Gojo would kill me if something happens to you while you are in my care…” complains the poor Ijichi, clearly stressed at this idea. You smile faintly, shaking your head at his words.

“I wouldn’t let him, don’t worry,” you chuckle softly.

He just chuckles back nervously, and lets you step out of the car once he arrives at your destination. You wave at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to climb the stairs or open your door. You sniff through your stuffy nose, shivering as you walk silently. At the same moment you get a call from Satoru. You answer it, sticking your phone in between your hand and your ear as you press the buttons of the digicode of the first door of the apartment building.

“Baby, you finally answer. Are you home ?” asks the worried voice of your boyfriend through the line.

“Hmm, I’m getting home. Aren’t you in a meeting ?” you ask too, coughing again and feeling dizzy from the sudden change of temperature in between closed doors compared to outside.

“Yeah, still am. But they don’t mind that I call you, after all you are first priority,” he nonchalantly answers, and at the same time you hear in the background the voices of the elders complaining about his statement. But clearly, Satoru doesn’t care. At all.

“Awww, that’s cute. But I’m good, I don’t want to disturb your meeting. So call me later when you are done,” you say, as you start to climb the stairs. Fuck. Why is it suddenly so difficult to lift your legs and move them ? The dizziness is getting worse, and your stomach is clearly not happy about it, making you want to throw up.

“Who cares anyways ? This meeting is boring. I prefer to hear your lovely voice,” he teases you without a care in the world, not minding the angry stares he gets as Satoru nonchalantly disrespects the higher ups, crossing his legs over the table in this arrogant way.

Meanwhile, you can barely let out a laugh at his words.

“Satoru, behave…” you whisper, but you don’t even know if he could hear it judging by how your voice had a hard time being louder than a mouse.

“Hey, you sure you okay ? Where are you right now ?” he frowns, suddenly his voice turning serious.

“The stairs,” you manage to spill out before your vision becomes all black and you hear your ears ringing loudly. Oh oh, that’s not good.

Everything starts to spin around you, the dizziness getting worse. You can’t even know if Satoru answered you, that you suddenly faint and feel yourself falling down in a loud thud, and then nothing, just the void.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

The moment you open your eyes, you realize faintly that someone is carrying you in their arms, climbing back the stairs you missed. The only thing you can manage to see is a ball of white hair, and then some black blindfold.

“Satoru ?” you whisper.

“Shh baby, I’m here, everything is fine now.”

The rest is a blur, you keep waking back, and right after fall back asleep. You faintly remember seeing Shoko’s hands on top of you, her cursed energy working on your sick and injured body, then being back in a car in the arms of your lover, and then finally being in your bed at home.

You groan as you blink many times, only to see Satoru sitting on a chair next to the bed, changing the cold wet tissue that was on your forehead. He smiles softly the moment your eyes meet, and he just caresses your cheek.

“Good morning, sleepy head.”

Goodmorning ? It was the morning ? You could barely remember what happened, starting by the moment you finished your mission, until… now. You blink again, turning slightly your head to look at the clock indicating that it was 9 A.M, almost 10. You directly try to sit back up, but Satoru firmly puts his hand on your chest and pushes you back on the bed, not letting you have the chance to move.

“Nuh-uh baby, you gotta stay right here, safe and sound.”

“Satoru, what happened ?” you ask, lost, not understanding the situation.

“Well, like a knight in shining armor, your amazing boyfriend saved you yesterday !” He smiles, like an idiot, clearly proud of himself.

In front of your deadpan face, his smile becomes softer and he gently takes your hand, his thumb caressing your skin.

“In more seriousness, you fucking scared me yesterday. While we were on call, you fainted. I left my meeting, and found you in the stairs. Your head was bleeding. Shit, that made me think the worst… never scare me like that again. I directly brought you to Shoko, and then she healed you just right. Since then, I’ve been taking care of you. You were asleep the whole time,” he explains more seriously, looking right back at you behind his sunglasses. You swallow hard your saliva and open your eyes wide.

You didn’t expect that it went that far. You look down in shame, and Satoru squeezes your hand and kisses it.

“Thank you, ‘toru. I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Why did you insist on going on that afternoon mission ? You lied to me, y/n. It wasn't as you described it to me, the curse you fought was a grade 1 curse, not a silly and easy one to deal with,” he continued more firmly, his usual goofiness completely gone, and his tone of voice showing you he was upset and that he wasn’t playing around anymore. He wanted answers.

“Look…”

“Don’t you trust me ?” he cuts you, frowning and some vulnerability showing in his wavering voice. You directly shake your head.

“What ? Of course not, Satoru. I trust you with my life.”

“Then why didn't you tell me the truth ? Why did you stubbornly go on that mission when you clearly were sick ? What if something had happened, uh ? You’re lucky you only fainted in the stairs, and not in the middle of the battle,” he starts to scold you, his usual bright blue eyes being paler now. You couldn’t deny his words, he was damn right. Yet you didn’t find the strength to stop him and answer him, instead you let him continue.

“I can’t fucking lose you too, y/n. You are all that I have left in this world. And when you do this type of stubborn shit, it scares me to death. You don’t get it, do you ?”

“I get it, Satoru,” your voice breaks when you answer, raising back your head. He bites his lower lip, shaking his head.

“No you don’t, y/n, and that’s the problem. Because one day, you will end up dead if you continue to go into missions when you clearly don’t have the abilities to fight it.”

“I’m a S grade Sorcerer, Satoru. I can handle things on my own, I don’t always need your help,” you retort in a defensive way without realizing.

“Oh yeah ? Maybe you are strong, but it doesn't make you invincible.”

“You say that, but you are not invincible too, and yet you always do these super dangerous missions and overwork yourself. I get worried too !” you exclaim.

“It’s not the same, I’m The Strongest, y/n, you are not !” he snaps back, tightening his hand around yours, his cool attitude crumbling.

“But that’s the whole point of why I didn’t want your help ! You always put people first before yourself ! You overwork yourself and carry the burden of the jujutsu world on your shoulders, and it kills me to see you like that accepting your situation just because you are “The Strongest”. You are my boyfriend too, you are human, and clearly mortal ! You can die too in battle ! I don’t want to be another burden in your life by making you work even more just for my sake, when you already have so much on your plate !” you lash out, breathing heavily and coughing in the process. Satoru frowns and sighs, patting softly your back and giving you a glass of water that was on the nightstand.

“Y/n, that’s… you are not a burden to me. You never will,” he whispers softly as he looks at you gulping down the whole glass and putting it back on the nightstand. You stare right back at him, and sigh too.

“Fuck, I’m sorry I screamed at you baby, I just got… scared. You are my weakness, and The Strongest isn’t supposed to have any weaknesses. I can’t bear the thought of losing you. That would be my damn last straw…” he admits as he cradles you in his arms in a tight embrace, clearly apologetic and kissing your head with so much care, and despair.

Your breath falters as you hug him back, chest tight and heart beating fast. Your arms wrap around his tall figure, your face buried in his neck.

“I’m sorry too, you are right. That wasn’t very smart of me to hide how sick I was to you, and lie, and still decide to go on this mission even though I wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t want to make you worry.”

“No matter what you do, I’ll always worry for your wellbeing. Curses can wait, I prefer for you to be safe and sound, rather than putting your life in danger in a stupid way,” he whispers in the crook of your neck, softly pampering kisses on your skin.

“And I don’t mind doing missions for you, y/n. I know you worry yourself about me overworking. But I swear, If needed, I prefer doing your missions and being more tired at the end of the day, rather than you going at a dangerous mission when you clearly aren’t ready like you did yesterday,” he continues.

“I know, I know. But still…” you start.

“Shh, let’s forget about it, yeah ? For now, I don’t wanna argue more with you, baby,” he coos you as he shakes his head, kissing tenderly your cheek. You take a deep breath, nodding and changing the subject.

“Did I bleed a lot when I fainted on the stairs ?”

“Quite, you felt right on your head. Thankfully it wasn't as bad as I thought, and Shoko healed you properly.” You couldn’t help but imagine the scene, and the feeling of Satoru when he discovered you like that.

“I can’t believe that stairs knocked me off rather than a curse…” you try to joke. He chuckles at your words, looking now at your face.

“Yeah, kinda pathetic, not gonna lie,” he teases you. As you cough slightly, you nudge him.

“I’m joking. But seriously, for the rest of the week no more missions. You need to heal, you still are sick, and weak. Alright ?”

You nod slightly, deciding to accept your fate as a sick person, no matter how it annoyed you.

“Alright.”

“Good, I took today and tomorrow off, so I can be your personal nurse. Exciting, isn’t it ?” He waves his eyebrows playfully when saying that, chuckling as he squeezes your waist in his large hands.

“Can I even count on you to be a good nurse ?” you ask jokingly.

“The best you could ever have,” Satoru whispers as he gently kisses your pouting lips. You open your eyes wide, and back off.

“Satoru, you will get sick !”

“Nah, I’m too strong for the germs to actually get to me.”

“That’s not the behavior a good nurse would have-” he cuts you off with another kiss, and then a second, and a third. How could you blame him ? He missed kissing your lips the past 24 hours, it was his sweet treat, no matter how unhygienic it was.

He indeed fulfilled his promise, he sweetly took care of you, nursing you back to health like the good and amazing boyfriend he was (that was him saying that), making you warm and tasty chicken soup, being sure you took your medicine, massaging your sore muscles, turning off all the lights and cradling your head when your headache started to come back, bathing you, and giving you a lot of love, and… kisses. Yeah, it got back to him when one week later the all mighty Gojo Satoru felt sick too.

Now, it was your turn to take care of him. And that was quite a challenge. Even more when forcing him to not go to work and forget that he is The Strongest for at least one day. But, that’s another story.

THE END

｡⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚｡⋆♡⋆｡⋆ ˚｡⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆｡⋆✧⋆˚｡⋆⋆

For more : GhostFace Gojo x Reader

#gojo x reader #jjk #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo angst #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x you #x reader

277 notes · View notes

penny-anna · 11 days ago

Text

travelling home after christmas today

checking my tickets this morning to make sure everything is in order. realise i somehow booked a 2-stage journey with a change at Doncaster rather than a direct ticket.

aw fuck. :(

report this to my sister who suggests trains might not be running as usual. assure her that it's definitely my fault

arrive at station. my train is at 13:03. there is also a direct Edinburgh train at 13:00. longingly watch the direct train depart. :(

my train is somehow running 5 minutes late in spite of starting at King's Cross?? wym you're running late. you haven't been anywhere.

anyway this is a problem bcos i only have 11 minutes to change at Doncaster.

train also doesn't start boarding until maybe 2 minutes before scheduled departure. there are around 200 people trying to board. we are not leaving at 13:08.

finally leave at around quarter past. yeah i am not making this connection. i didn't have a seat reserved so no great loss.

notice that the app now says my connecting train is delayed due to 'overcrowding'. ehh i don't think i want to get that train anyway.

the connecting train isn't delayed enough for my to catch it. phew, i think, bullet dodged!!

the next train to Edinburgh arrives. it was also delayed leaving Kings Cross for the same unclear reasons as my original train. it's booked solid but the screen says there are seats available in coach C so off i go.

attempt to board the train. the vestibule is so full of people that im honestly not sure i can fit.

manage to fit. oh fuck. oh this is not a good train to be on.

various people are scouting out coach C in seach of seats and come back without. decide to make a trip myself as they were a couple and i'm a lone traveller so might have more success.

i have my big rucksack on + an extra bag so im just barging my way through there. there's people standing in the aisle. way unpassable.

return to the vestibule.

someone has left a very large buggy in the vestibule, unfolded, seemingly abandoned, unbelievably in the way.

someone suggests that we could fold the buggy. everyone agrees this is a good idea but no-one is the buggy's owner.

i ask if anyone knows who the buggy belongs to and someone points to a woman halfway down the carriage, beyond a bunch more standing people.

people are needing to get through to the bathroom. attempt to put myself on the other side of the buggy to clear a path. almost get stuck bcos w all my bags i am just so so large.

manage to get to the other side of the buggy and take off my backpack so i'm not taking up so much space. add my backpack to the luggage piled in front of the luggage rack.

someone returns from the adjoining vestibule with news of more space for luggage, suggests we move the buggy

collectively manage to get the buggy's owner over. she tells us she is travelling alone with 5 children. now feel kind of bad about being annoyed by the buggy.

buggy is too wide to go to the next vestibule without being folded. she say she can't fold it because it's got bags in it and there's nowhere to put the bags.

it's pointed out that she can put the bags in the other luggage rack where there is (apparently) more space. the buggy is removed and we all have space to actually move around.

my rucksack is at constant risk of fallling off the luggage pile and it's on the other side of the carriage door so not much i can do. another passenger is kindly keeping it in place for me.

also a problem w standing on long haul trains is that they are just not designed for it so there's nowhere to hold on and i almost fall into people several times.

okay we are coming up on York. maybe, i think optimistically, a bunch of people will get off at York (it's a big station) and things will improve

ohh god things do not improve

more people pile into the vestibule including a couple with a very large suitcase and a baby

suitcase has nowhere to go except the middle of the corridor. couple debate whether they should just get off the train and find alternative transport. woman says (reasonably) that she doesn't want to stand holding the baby for 3 hours to Edinburgh.

before they can come to a conclusion the train leaves

predictably the vestibule is now home to a crying baby

a man comes out of the coach w a bag from the buffet service. asks politely if he can get through so he can go back to his seat.

oh we are SO sorry but you are going to be here a while :(

manage to get my rucksack properly onto the luggage rack :)

after a while the man w the buffet car bag says that at the next station he's going to get off the train and back on at the next entrance in hope of getting back to his seat

we wish him godspeed. he gets off the train. never see him again. i hope he made it.

we are now not far from Durham. very large man w a very large bag comes through, smacks everyone with his bag, and then almost dislodges my backpack taking his suitcase out from underneath it

announces confidently which side the train doors will open on.

ok we have a shot here. on my previous recce i noticed a whole group of seats marked reserved to Durham. tell myself that i must act swiftly and decisively when we get to Durham.

by this point im having significant foot pains from too much train standing.

we arrive at Durham. the big group mentioned leaves and then a reshuffle commences

family of 5 kids mentioned previously (remember them??) are moving to take over the vacated table. observing events it looks like there's going to be 1 free seat left.

there's 2 people closer to the seat and i can't just barge past them BUT they are together. ask if one of them wants the seat.

they do not want the seat!!

move swiftly & decisively to take the seat.

it is covered and i mean covered in popcorn but i will take what i can get at this stage.

from beneath the seats me and some other helpul passengers retrieve a dropped pair of gloves, a hat and a toy Sonic the Hedgehog which we return to their owners.

finally sit.

take off coat put in eye drops begin drinking delicious 7up i've been carrying since kings cross etc.

at the next stop the person in the other seat leaves and am joined by another of the group from the vestibule. we sit and quietly read our books :3

108 notes · View notes

cfyslvr · 20 days ago

Text

Birthday boy

───󠀠──────────────────────────────────

→ author's note: okay so I might kill myself 😃 I started working on this fic in the morning and when I was about halfway done, I saved it to drafts- DRAFTS. and what did tumblr do? FUCKING POST IT. PUBLICLY. WHILE IT WAS STILL HALFWAY DONE. and you know what? I didn't even notice that it was posted until someone liked it 😁 so now I have like 2 hours to complete this entire thing, so I'm very sorry if it's rushed or just straight up horrible 🙏🏻 I tried my best

→ summary: spending the night of your bf's birthday alone with him before you have to share him with his friends tomorrow <3

→ content warnings: fem!reader, established relationship, fluff fluff fluff a lot of fluff, possible grammar mistakes, me suffering fron cute aggression throughout the fic

───󠀠──────────────────────────────────

it was just another night like every other one, chifuyu was laying in his bed, re-reading his favorite manga yet again while his cat, peke j, napped on his stomach.

december 18th, just another day. nothing special. chifuyu totally wasn't looking down at his phone every minute to check the time.

23:51

23:52

23:53

he totally wasn't waiting for the clock to strike 00:00 and for his phone to start flooding with birthday wishes from his closest friends.

he might get a few birthday wishes, but he was only anticipating one thing and one thing only.

what could that be? well, his girlfriends arrival!

since you and chifuyu were neighbors, ever since you started dating, you made it a tradition to visit each other's houses at exactly 00:00 and give each other early birthday presents so the two of you wouldn't be overshadowed by other guests on the birthday party.

the manga in his hands was long forgotten as he stared at his phone, watching as the minutes ticked away one by one.

23:56

23:57

23:58

23:59

00:00

the second the clock announced the new day, he heard a gentle knock at the front door of his apartment. chifuyu basically flew out of his room to open the door, but not before he made sure that peke j was placed nice and safe down on his bed.

he swung the door open and revealed none other than his beautiful girlfriend standing the with a beautiful smile on her beautiful face.

the second he opened the door for you, you basically pounced on him, causing him to stumble back a bit, but caught himself in the last second.

"happy birthday, fuyu!" you said excitedly, to which he let out a laugh and wrapped his arms around your waist. despite the fact he was most excited to see you, he couldn't help but notice the large bag you were holding that hit his back when you hugged him.

"thank you, baby, I was so excited to see you!" he said excitedly and lifted you up, spinning you around with you in his arms, causing you to let out a chuckle.

once he finally put you down, you gently dropped the gift bag onto the ground and instead cupped his face with your hands. he gave you a goofy grin before you leaned in, closing the gap between the two of you with a soft kiss on the lips.

the two of you stayed completely lost in the kiss until you suddenly heard a soft laugh from behind the two of you. you turned around and saw chifuyu's mom standing there, smiling warmly at the two of you.

you felt a little embarrassed for getting caught basically making out right infront of chifuyu's mom, but she didn't comment on it, instead, she just wished her son a happy birthday and gave him a kiss on the top of the head before leaving the two of you alone.

the two of you moved to chifuyu's, where you immediately greeted peke j before you felt a pair of arms wrapping around your waist. you rolled your eyes and turned around to face your boyfriend. you kissed the little idiot again, this time taking more time before finally pulling away, breathless.

"what did you get me?" he asked playfully.

"is that all you care about?" you teased, but nevertheless, you sat him down onto the bed and took the giant bag out again. he looked back at it excitedly, yet patiently.

you first pulled out a little envelope and handed it to him.

"read it." you commanded playfully, and he immediately complied.

chifuyu opened the envelope and took the letter out of it, reading silently.

(I'm too lazy to make up a letter, just imagine it)

by the time he was finished reading, chifuyu could feel his eyes slowly welling up with tears, you were too sweet, it never failed to make him soft.

without a word, he wrapped his arms around you waist and pulled you in, burying his face into your shoulder so you couldn't see him tearing up over a simple letter.

you laughed softly and hugged him back, one of your hands finding it's way into his hair and beginning to mindlessly play with his messy blonde hair.

"i luv u so much.. ur the best.." (I'm gonna cry he's so cute) he mumbled out, his words slightly muffled by your shoulder. you smile and kiss the side of his head, biting back a chuckle at his cuteness (omfg)

"you haven't even seen the actual gift though.." you reminded him playfully and pulled away from the hug.

"you're the best gift I could ever ask for.." (I'm gonna cry ilhsm) he said cheesily and let our a soft chuckle.

you rolled your eyes at his cheesiness and just placed the bag into his lap.

he looked back at you for a second before looking into the bag and almost immediately slapping a hand over his mouth in shock.

his eyes flickered between you and the contents of the bag a few times.

"you didn't." you did. you bought him every single volume of the manga he has been non-stop yapping about form months now.

"y/nnnn!!" he whined, not even taking the mangas out before once again jumping into your embrace and beginning to shower your face with thankful kisses, making you laugh again. (I'm gonna kiss him)

"I've been saving up and buying each volume for months now." you told him, making him let out another grateful whine. you were too amazing..

"thank you, y/n, I can't explain how grateful I am for you.." he mumbled out and gave you a loving kiss on the lips.

the two of you spent the rest of the night kissing, cuddling and reading the manga you bought him until you eventually fell asleep tangled up in each other's arms. you were glad you kept the little tradition of spending the night before your birthday's together, since you didn't quite enjoy enjoying your (fucking adorable) boyfriend with his friends.

───󠀠──────────────────────────────────

95 notes · View notes

misotsukiiyeooo · 6 months ago

Text

Waking Up/Going to Sleep with Him

Pairing:Bf! Yoon Jeonghan x f!Reader

A/N: hopefully you guys enjoy!

Genre: Fluff/(hint of crack)

Word count: 4.9k

Synopsis: Waking up for the second time of the day and noticing Jeonghan's at work that being said, you have nothing to do so you just go to bed again until later when you hear a strange noise.

The sun hitting your face causes you to wake up, and attempt to get up but feel something or someone weighing you down. “Five more minutes pleaseeee.” Dragging out the last word while mumbling into your back, you look over to see Jeonghan holding you ever so tight yet so gently against you. “Hannie, it’s morning already we have to get up.” You giggle at him shaking his head and snuggling further into your back if that’s even possible. “Please Y/N, we’ve both been so busy with work lately, now we finally both have some free time so let’s just rest together for a bit more.” He pleads now facing you with his adorable eyes. “Alright, alright fine but only for twenty minutes, okay?” You smile at him as he nods, planting a kiss on your forehead as you’re now resting on his chest.

You wake up not feeling Jeonghans warmth or presence anymore making you confused, “Wasn’t he the one who wanted to sleep more? Where’d he go?” You think to yourself and check your phone. Your eyes widen while seeing it’s 2:58pm and you received a message from Jeonghan

YoonZinooo😎🤍

Today at 8:24 AM

Love..I tried to wake you up but you didn’t budge. I left for work already and I bet you’re reading this pretty late…but still, I made you some food on the counter, make sure you eat it. I love youuu🤍

Y/N

Today at 3:00 PM

I’m sooo sorry I didn’t wake up to see you off :(

YoonZinooo😎🤍

Today at 3:01 PM

It’s okay love, as long as you slept well and eat what I made.

Y/N

Today at 3:01 PM

I did and I will eat what you made thank you Hannie🤍

YoonZinooo😎🤍

Today at 3:02 PM

You’re welcome Love, btw I’ll be coming home a bit later I’m sorry, I need to practice more so don’t wait for me alright? I’ll be home around 2.

Y/N

Today at 3:03 PM

Okay..don’t overwork yourself.

YoonZinooo😎🤍

Today at 3:03 PM

😘👍🏻.

You jump off your bed and rush to the bathroom to freshen up for the day. Once you finish, you realize there’s nothing really for you to do today besides rot on the couch or your bed. You decide to bed rot because it sounds better than couch rotting. Once you finish eating the food Jeonghan made, you lay in bed to watch some cartoons while eating snacks. You start to get bored knowing Jeonghan isn’t here. Tossing and turning in bed trying to find some sort of warmth until you find the spot feeling drowsy. Drifting off to sleep for the third time today while your cartoon plays in the background.

11:26pm you hear a noise, like something dropped, startling you out of your long nap.“Is someone here? But Jeonghan has to work late today..” Or so you thought. Leaving your room holding the nearest object you could find in there, you enter the living room quietly still hearing some rummaging now coming from the kitchen. Gripping onto your object tightly you turn on the light as fast as ever to immediately point your object at this sudden noise. “Love?..” Nonetheless it was Jeonghan wearing a black cap laughing while you screamed in horror. He walked closer to me smiling “A flatiron really? What were you trying to do? Style my hair?” I continue to laugh, teasing her while she puts her object on the counter realizing while pouting. “I didn’t see what I grabbed because it was so dark…and besides why are you wearing a hat in here? You look like a robber.” She lowers her gaze embarrassed.“Come here love.” I giggle hugging her. “I had to wear a cap because I didn’t want anyone to notice me and it was dark..I should’ve told you I was coming home earlier.” “No, it’s fine. I had no reason getting startled..I should’ve known it was you.” She snuggles in the crook of my neck still embarrassed. “Let’s get ready for bed yeah?” She nods walking to the bathroom.

After taking a shower together and doing skin care we’re finally in bed, her lying on my chest turning her head up to look at me. “You know, I’ve been sleeping the whole day? But now that you’re here I’m not tired.” Her big eyes look at me causing me to smile. “You’re not tired.? Well then let’s talk until you do.” Nodding at my response she starts talking about the randomness of things known to mankind. “What if we were both ants? And one day I get stepped on?..” “Imagine our feet were our hands?” “Oh my god imagine…, going to sleep and dreaming of whatever, and when you wake up you’re in that area until you fall asleep again...I would love and hate that.” I just watch her, responding to her crazy questions. This is exactly why I love her so much, she’s always so unexpected making every day exciting. “And then it happens like-…are you listening?” She looks at me confused and pouty. I kiss her tenderly on her lips and look into her eyes “I love you so much, love.” She turns a tint of pink on her cheeks and mumbles those same words back. After a while, her blabbering turns into her mumbling slowly as she falls asleep. I massage her head kissing her forehead every now and then having her fall into deep sleep. I stare at her for a few seconds, brushing her hair away from her precious face. “I love you more than you can ever imagine.”

Req are open!

Tag list!!

#kpop #seventeen #kpop fanfic #kpop icons #kpop bg #im tired queue #kpopidol #yoon jeonghan #seventeen fanfic #jeonghan fluff #x female reader #x fem!reader #fluff #seventeen fluff

181 notes · View notes

earphonejackx · 1 year ago

Text

AN: I’m back!! I decided to make more makima fics cuz I’m crazy for soft makima :p this is a part 2 to part 1

⊂⊃ Soft! Makima x f!reader

⊂⊃ WARNING- slight manipulation, possessiveness

⊂⊃ Makima is an absolute baby when it comes down to you treating her as her lover more often, she likes to be babied by you! but somewhat likes to keep control

⊂⊃ When Makima finally starts warming up to you more she tells you more about her past. This is a completely new vulnerability she has showed you and she would like it if you’d do the same

⊂⊃ Makima has picked up a new hobby for watching movies every Friday night with you. After work she’d be right at your door ready to spend the rest of her night with you. “[name] what movie shall we watch tonight? I have so many recommendations.”

⊂⊃ Makima loves going grocery shopping with you! She loves helping you pick foods for you and her to cook. She likes having organized foods in her kitchen so it’s very interesting to see her picks of food

⊂⊃ Makima hates TV dinners. I’ve fucking said it, she refuses to eat anything that even looks close to sloppy food. When she first saw you eating a TV dinner for lunch she was upset “[name] you have very interesting picks of food for lunch, not very pleasing.” She definitely stopped letting you eat those T.T

⊂⊃ NOW obviously I like to make my girl Makima have some flaws so here we go.

⊂⊃ Makima still at times tries to control you or the people around you, unfortunately this is something you’ll have to get used to. She is a control devil, her main purpose is to control so she doesn’t really care if you like it or not that’s just how she’ll always be. You’ve learned to accept it overtime but obviously you occasionally need to have talks with her about it

⊂⊃ Makima doesn’t get social ques sometimes so she’ll be a little off put to some people or even you at times but that’s just how she is

⊂⊃ Makima has a very hard time expressing her feelings outloud so at times it feels like she doesn’t even love you

⊂⊃ This lady has definitely tried treating you like a dog once☠️ but she sometimes does it to fuck around with you or toy with you. It does calm down overtime tho

⊂⊃ Please expect Makima to go days without texting you sometimes, sometimes she’ll forget she even has a phone and leaves you worried sick!

(You) Maki are you okay I wanted to check up on you? | Today 6:40

(Maki) yes. | Today 12:00

Next day—

(You) good morning makima! Hru?? | Today 8:30

(You) Maki you wanna go to the store with me today?? | Today 4:00

(You) Maki wanna do movie night?? I have your favorite movie~~ :3 | Today 7:01

3 days later —-

(Maki) ah sorry [name] I just forgot I had a phone. I’m sorry I didn’t text you back. | Today 5:00

(You) seen…

(Maki) [Name?] | Today 5:07

(You) BLOCKED

⊂⊃ After you blocked Makima she tried to make it up with you with a movie night. She tried apologizing (which she’s very bad at.) and she said sorry once. maybe you could forgive her?

⊂⊃ Makima definitely starts to get possessive with you overtime. She wants you. She needs you. So please let her have you. You definitely have to stop her sometimes but it’s fun seeing her get greedy for something that’s hers “What? What do you mean possessive? Me what? No.” She still denies it.

⊂⊃ There are times where Makima wants to prove that she isn’t just some control freak. She wants you to trust her and love her. She wants you

⊂⊃ Makima definitely likes to keep you away from her work life. But if you work with her I’d be no secret if she immediately switched your division or lowered you down to safer missions with easy pay

#earphonejackx #x reader #soft icons #x y/n #chainsaw man #csm x reader #headcanon #chainsaw man x reader #tw possessive behavior #tw manipulation #makima csm #makima x reader #makima smut #makima #makima is hot

693 notes · View notes

lifewithdavefarts · 6 months ago

Text

DaveFarts - Episode 31 “Wet Gas” [Episode List] Tim, Dave, Adam and Greg spend a “guys only” weekend… relaxing in the calmest and cheapest beach resort the could find. While the others enjoy the soothing sound of the waves, Tim is “forced” by Dave to enjoy instead the loud, thunderous sound of his massive farts.

POV: Tim

7:00 AM.

We parked in the middle of nowhere, grabbed our backpacks, and marched towards the only visible human-made thing.

The sign hanging just above the main entrance of the modest hotel building, a structure separating the hot asphaltic hell we were standing on from the (hopefully) beautiful beach resort, reads “Sandy Beach”, written in Comic Sans nonetheless. Very original name!

We promptly, and very maturely, misread “beach” on purpose and we had our first high IQ laugh of the weekend.

“Pretty cool, huh?” our friend Greg said, admiring the shabby entrance and leading us the way, with a smug look on his face.

Considering that he chose the place, he was obviously being very biased.

“Yeah.” I said. “Are they gonna harvest our internal organs tonight or…”

That earned a good laugh from Dave and Adam.

“Yeah it looks like shit.” Adam said. “But as long as they have the Jacuzzi...” he glared at Greg “I’m okay with losing a liver I guess.”

“Can’t wait to rub your wet nipples, Adam.” Dave said, caressing our friend’s chest.

“Not now, Greg may get jealous.” he replied, playing along.

“Who’s gonna rub MY nipples then?” I asked, sarcastically.

Dave stepped closer to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

“Is that even a question?” he said, painfully pinching my right nipple.

I didn’t scream.

I suffered in silence like a real man.

—

Credit where it’s due.

Once we stepped into the building, the resort turned out to be bigger and much more equipped than it looked. The beach was vast and not very crowded (it’s only late June after all), same goes for the swimming pools.

In the end we booked 2 rooms and we split like we usually do when it’s just the 4 of us: Adam and Greg in one room, me and Dave in the other.

Adam and Dave’s girlfriends were actually supposed to join us but they decided to plan a “girls only” weekend instead with other friends.

The entire building was mostly made of wood, or cladded with wood. It gave the place a more “exotic” look and, most importantly, it wasn’t boiling hot and I didn’t even need to turn the AC ON. There were palms outside, but they were made of plastic.

Fun, I guess?

Before going to the beach we all checked our rooms first. Both me and Dave checked for some stuff in our backpacks and we changed into our “beach” clothes, which basically meant only wearing a simple t-shirt and a swimming trunks. My bro was sporting a grey t-shirt and a pair of red trunks.

I admit I gave him more than one quick look, hoping my dark sunglasses would hide my eyes glued on him.

He is a good looking man after all.

“Enjoying the view?” he said, his own sunglasses hiding the fact that he was staring back at me the whole time.

“You know what?” I dared to say. “Yes.”

Dave laughed at my bravery. “Thanks.” he then said, no irony, no sarcasm. “You too are looking good. Told ya you needed to exercise.”

Well this has been a weirdly sincere exchange of compliments.

“Now let’s rate your cock…”

There it is, the mandatory immature joke (but everything before that was sincere).

We grabbed our towels and I walked outside of the room, Dave right behind me, being tasked with preserving our room’s keys.

Outside of our room there was a long and (as of now) empty corridor. I turned to Dave as he made to close the door behind us but before doing that he looked left and right, as if he was a pedestrian crossing a busy road.

“One last thing before we go…” he whispered, after he sure no one was around.

Dave held the door ajar behind him and squeezed his ass in red trunks into our room, unleashing a loud, high-pitched fart. He narrowed his eyes as he pushed the loud gas out; technically a morning fart, but fueled by a weird schedule (we woke up at like 4:00 AM to get here) and a quick, unhealthy breakfast.

“Marking your territory I see.” my snarky comment, as I witnessed my friend tainting our once immaculate room with his gas.

He laughed a bit, resulting in the fart having some “hiccups”, but he managed to finish ripping it nicely, with a final, deeper, loud note. Dave then quickly shut the door, as if the gas could escape, and locked it.

“And you did this… because?” I asked, sounding as annoying as you think.

“Because I had to fart, duh!” he replied, putting his sunglasses on.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder as we walked in the empty corridor.

“No worries, I’m gonna blast ya later.” he then said, whispering, like the bastard teaser he knows he is.

He tried to crush my nipple again but this time I parried him like the pro I am and, ignoring the fact that Dave was, as usual, being super chill with my kink (and the fact I was pitching a tent…), we raced to the beach like the immature 30 years olds that we are.

—

After some beach volley on the shoreline, we spent the next few hours sleeping under our umbrellas, because we’re old and tired of living. Still the best nap we ever had since months. We woke up and just ate a sandwich each for lunch, as we had a much more “demanding” dinner planned for tonight here at the resort.

We had another session of beach volley in the afternoon, some beers, chatted with some other guys, generally chilling and doing basically nothing, occasionally commenting on how deceptively shabby the whole resort was, imagining non-existent lore and backstories worthy of an AMC crime drama series.

—

The Sun was setting so we decided to leave the beach and go back to our rooms. It was still early for dinner or any other night activity, so I proposed to try the Jacuzzi.

“Bro.” Dave said to Adam and Greg, faking a serious, surprised expression. “Tim had… a good idea?”

Sarcasm aside, the other three idiots agreed, ‘cause after that long day of relax… we needed to relax. Makes sense.

We chose the Jacuzzi in mine and Dave’s room since it was the one actually working (the news made Greg earn some insults from Adam). After a couple of minutes of setting it up, we jumped in, fetching some beers in the process, and let the warm bubbles do their massage.

We all felt ridiculously good. We kept chatting and joking around, chilling in the hot-tub 5ft apart ‘cause we’re not gay (well…), or at least that was the idea, but Dave (and Adam too, to be fair) had to mess with our nipples because we’re very mature, so the thing quickly turned into some kind of Mexican Standoff where we had to keep our nipples safe.

After like 15 minutes, the hydro-massage turned itself off.

“Probably a power-saving thing.” Greg commented.

Dave floated towards me and “sat” next to me. I could still see the red swimming trunks through the warm water.

“If you guys need bubbles, I got ya covered.”

At first we didn’t realize what he meant, until we remembered who were we sharing the Jacuzzi with.

We noticed him visibly pushing one out and lots of bubbles appeared all around him.

A cartoonishingly-impressive performance from Dave, as he managed to rip it with ease even underwater, producing what essentially was a natural hydro-massage (I was next to him and I could certainly feel it). His skills earned amused and disgusted reactions (even from me), as each popping bubble let out in the air the stench of his fart.

That wasn’t an underwater fart, that was a seaquake entirely localized in our hot-tub. As the fart kept going and more poisonous bubbles reached the surface, it felt more like we were bathing in some thermal waters near a volcano, since the whole thing smelt like sulphur (…which notably smells like rotten eggs).

After like 10 seconds, the bubbles stopped, and Dave looked at us with a smug, proud smirk, fully knowing how annoying that was. But, as bros do, we actually tipped our metaphorical hats to his incredible talent. Despite my sincere admiration, that still gave me a massive boner, which the water fortunately kept hidden.

A few minutes later, the Jacuzzi turned itself on again.

“Hey hey! That’s not me I swear!” Dave joked.

We could tell it wasn’t him: the massage wasn’t nearly as strong as his fart’s.

—

We had our dinner at the resort restaurant, which offered lots of wine and seafood, which looked mostly safe to eat, and then went back one more time in our rooms to have a quick shower before leaving again for a night pool party (always taking place in the resort), with alcohol and music.

As I was drying my hair, Dave got out of the shower, without even bothering of covering himself with a towel. He didn’t mind and, to be honest, me neither, though I must say, he was kind of well-endowed.

My bro pointed at me, lifted his right leg a bit and let out a short loud blast, droplets of water getting sprayed out of his bare ass in the process.

“Well said.” I simply commented.

Dave then went to the bedroom to wear some clothes despite being still wet (just a t-shirt and those red swimming trunks again), as he always does during Summer.

And so he did, ready in a matter of seconds. Perhaps this wasn’t what he was going for, but his chest being still wet made his t-shirt tighter-looking, making his pecs more visible. Dave wasn’t super muscular or anything, but he was tall, slim and fit-looking, and as I said many times he was overall a pretty good-looking guy. He didn’t bother shaving, so he had this stubble covering part of his face.

“Tim it’s super hot outside, you don’t need to dry your hair come on!” he said, checking the time on his phone.

“Alright alright, I’m coming.” I replied, slipping into a t-shirt and a pair of shorts as fast as I could.

As we approached the door, I heard Dave doing an encore of what happened this morning, only with his mouth this time. My bro uttered a rather unexpected (even though he was remarkably good at it too) loud, deep, throaty belch, which is basically a mouth-fart, so further proof of his air-bending mastery.

“Gesundheit.” I jokingly said.

Dave gave me a thumbs-up in response, though he kind of looked like there was something bothering him.

“Those shrimps are doing numbers in my stomach.” he let out another small belch. “Oof.”

“I’m sure your digestive system has seen worse.” believe me, I know what I’m talking about: this man could eat and digest an entire boar without flinching.

He replied with one more short belch though.

“We’ll see.”

—

The pool party was actually… a bit boring: there weren’t that many people and while we did manage to chat with another friend group (who was as bored as we were), we mostly drowned ourselves in alcohol and random snacks. Speaking of drowning, at one point, Dave decided to randomly push Greg into the swimming pool, as he was talking non-stop about the hard process of choosing his glasses (we promptly took them off his face before pushing him though -we’re not monsters).

Greg being the butt of our jokes reignited the party, as me and other people (including my other two buds) dived into the pool as the music got louder. Us and those other guys basically owned the place at this point, turning an otherwise boring situation into our private party. We kept drinking and chatting for a couple of hours, in and out of the water, enjoying our summer night.

—

At round 3:30 AM we called it a day (or rather, a night). The resort’s staff turned the music off and everyone went back into their rooms. We kept chatting a bit more in the hotel hall, drinking one last beer or whiskey together, before being too tired ourselves.

The wet steps of our slippers echoed in the otherwise silent hotel as Dave and I marched towards our room (Greg and Adam’s room was on the other side of the building, relatively far from us).

“Thanks for pushing Greg into the swimming pool.” I said.

“Thank you guys for suggesting it.”

I don’t remember doing that, though admittedly we all thought of it at the same time.

We opened the door and we were greeted by the cold breeze of the sea, as we left the windows open.

After a few steps, Dave took off his t-shirt and let himself fall on the bed, lying on his stomach and hugging his pillow.

I did the same, lying (on my back) next to him.

I checked my phone for some messages, trying to be as quiet as possible ‘cause I thought he fell asleep, until he turned to me, tired but very much awake.

“Send me some of the photos you took later.” he said, trying to twist my right nipple.

“Doing it as we speak.”

He then reached for his own phone and, still lying on his stomach, sent Dana a quick voice message explaining how we all finally had mad sex with each other, especially Greg because he’s the hottest one.

After he finished recording, he uttered a small belch. Gay jokes are one thing, but he draws the line at belching into his girlfriend’s ears (not that Dana isn’t familiar with Dave’s skills…).

“How’s your stomach by the way?” I asked.

“I’m fine. Nothing that 2 gallons of beer couldn’t fix.” he replied, with a hint of sarcasm. “But yeah it’s all good.” he then properly admitted.

As if it was something necessary to further prove his point, Dave’s statement was followed by a sudden, thunderous fart that could very well wake all the guests in the hotel up. I got startled: I didn’t even realize he was pushing one out! Since he was lying on this stomach, the ass basically looked like an erupting volcano, the poisonous gas cloud quickly reaching my nose: the smell was terrible, a sign of Dave’s stomach getting rid of unwanted waste without actually turning into solid shit.

The 7 seconds rip was followed by another loud, short toot, finishing the blast.

“Yeah, that sounded healthy.” I simply remarked.

Somehow Dave found my comment really funny, and he laughed before his usual “fart smirk” could appear on his face every time he teases me with his farting skills.

“Yeah, my stomach could handle it, as usual.” he finally managed to say. “The real question is… can you handle it?”

My heart stopped for a moment, because I will never get used to Dave being a chill, teasing bastard, and how he actually delivers without stopping at the tease. I knew I was going to get face-farted and if my ears didn’t lie to me, his farts were going to be huge tonight, even for his standards. I guess it happens when you stuff your strong stomach with tons of questionable seafood and gallons of alcohol.

“You know you don’t have to, right…?” I said, kind of embarrassed.

Dave sighed and laughed a bit, amused, but almost frustrated by how, somehow, I was the one who didn’t get used to such gross kink, whereas my straight bro was more than OK with blasting me, fully knowing that I liked it that way.

“I told ya I was gonna blast you later, remember?”

The fact that he remembers saying that to me while I almost forgot was almost funny to me. I found it hot, I found it nice, I found it… weird. But I guess we’re both weirdos in our own way.

My train of thoughts was derailed by another loud fart, this time lasting “only” 3 seconds, a fart that I’m almost sure Dave ripped just to get my full attention, not that it was difficult: his ass looked great in those red, tight swimming trunks and I could perfectly distinguish his asscheeks.

“Just do it.” I said, cackling nervously.

My friend snickered. “Nah, too tired to get up, just plant your head there, I don’t care.” he said, resting his head on the pillow, as he pointed me in the direction of a different kind of pillow.

I was speechless.

“Y-you sure?” I had to ask.

“I’m going to fart in 3…2…1”

Maybe my deft movement made me look too thirsty and desperate, but Dave found it disgustingly hilarious, so that’s fine. I rushed towards my friend’s red ass, essentially obeying to his order, and planted my head between the red fabric-clad buttcheeks.

That felt… good. The ass was actually softer than I expected but what I wasn’t expecting is how much wet, damp and cold those swimming trunks still were, yet my nose, a bit deeper into my friend’s ass, was warmer. I could smell the stench of his previous rips, which the wet trunks somehow made it worse, and it felt like I was tipping my nose into sewer waters.

The fart that greeted me almost made me regret my head was where it was. A loud fart, as usual, which made my head shake; the water trapped deep into my friend’s ass produced some weird sounds, as if his anus was gargling. I could feel a “fizzy” sensation tickling my nose, my head completely blocking what felt like a powerful geyser of flatulence.

I didn’t know if I could handle it, to be honest: the whole thing reeked like sewers and, well, shit. Dave claimed that he was feeling well, but those roars basically were his stomach turning shit into pure gas. Fart fetish or not, you learn to recognize your gassy friend’s farts, especially when he’s this talented.

The blast lasted 11 seconds, finishing off with a wet quack-like sound, which my friend actually found gross and hilarious.

“You sure you can handle it?” he threatened, knowing exactly how revolting his farts were being tonight.

“We’ll see.” I replied, echoing what he said earlier about his stomach, which he noticed.

“Well then.”

He reached for my head and grabbed it, pushing it, with a firm grip, even deeper into his anus. The thin, red fabric of his swimming trunks was the only thing separating me from the gassy hell that was my friend’s ass… and it was basically useless: Dave could very well be face-farting me bare-ass for how terrible the stench was.

I got jump-scared by a new blast erupting into my face; while pushing the fart out, Dave wiggled his ass left and right, wiping his wet ass on my face. The gargle-like sounds returned, and I felt the red trunks getting wetter, a sign that more water was being sprayed out of my friend’s ass due to the sheer power of his fart. Even though yes, it was water, it was still coming from the depths of my friend’s anus, so you can only imagine how much my nostrils were suffering in that moment.

The fart changed pitch as Dave wiggled his ass, going from an higher-pitch to a deeper one; this had nothing to do with the butt moving, as my friend is just that good at “sound-designing” (as he once put it) his own farts. Probably a side-effect of being able to fart on command, though those were all natural.

And they were all natural indeed as I never heard farts on command being this wet, not from my bro at least. Don’t get me wrong, Dave was a pro, I knew he wasn’t gonna shit on my face, but damn if the mixture of an entire multiple showers, a pool party and questionable shrimps weren’t messing with the sound of his blasts.

And the smell…

Those incredible displays of flatulence smelt like fucking shit and sewer and this on-going fart was just pure stench being shoved down my throat: I could almost taste those damn shrimps. After 16 long seconds, finally, it got less loud and as he ripped the final toots before properly stopping, Dave turned his head to check on me, but as his eyes landed on my face being devoured by his red-clad asscheeks, he laughed like the teasing, open-minded bastard that he is.

“Don’t you just love the soothing sound of the waves?”

Funny thing is, we could actually hear the so-called soothing sound of the waves from our room.

Well, as long as it’s silent.

And with Dave brewing a big one already, the silence wasn’t gonna last long.

Predictably enough, his ironic statement about the waves was followed by another rip right into my face, as he still held my head still, at the mercy of his asscheeks. It was a quick, wet thunder, lasting about 3 seconds, but damn if it was loud, perhaps the loudest one so far somehow, and one of the loudest farts I ever heard from Dave in general. The putrid stench it produced matched its power: my eyes got teary because of the dense, warm gas.

But my bro wasn’t done: still lying on his stomach and holding my head where it belonged, he spread his legs wide, occupying the entire king-sized bed, with my nose being “pulled” even deeper into the moist-y depths of his red-clad anus. I could taste the “swamp” those red swimming trunks became, now even more wet because of my own sweat.

Also, since we’ve been to a pool party, the nauseating stench of Dave’s farts was accompanied by a faint smell of chlorine, which gave the blasts an oddly “pungent” scent (well, more than usual).

A moment of silence, another silence that was doomed to not last, then I heard my friend laugh a bit.

“Goodbye, Tim”

When even Dave says stuff like that, you know he’s brewing a giant one.

And a giant fart it was, the final result of a long beach day, questionable food and lots of alcohol. It sounded like a chainsaw and again it had that gargle-like sound going on. I felt one more time my nose being tickled by that “fizzy” feeling coming from his anus as more water was being sprayed out of his ass, his red trunks barely able to contain that.

The wet blast probably woke other guests I’m sure, as it was, probably, the loudest fart I ever heard, period. Or at least that’s how it sounded to me, as my face was being forcefully held there by my friend, one with the source of those beautiful farts.

Dave didn’t need to hold my head however, because I wasn’t going anywhere. I didn’t want to.

As the loud rip pierced my eardrums, I took deep breaths and I could taste that sewer-like ass in all of its raw, gross nature. My head was shaking, the entire bed was shaking. My cock was rock hard and I knew I was reaching my breaking point.

So… I just let it happen, my own shorts conveniently hiding any evidence. I decided to embrace the best, non-verbal compliment I could make to my friend’s skills and I came right on the spot.

Not proud of it, but what I experiencing was way too hot, hot beyond my wildest dreams.

I was running out of breath, but the fart didn’t want to end. Even after I came, I still enjoyed every second of that so I kept my nose into that red swamp.

20 seconds… how is it possible to fart like this? Considering it was all natural, why does a guy like him even need to fart on command? That’s just… too OP, but damn please don’t dare to nerf him.

I finally felt Dave’s hand letting my head go but the blast was still going, so I kept my head there as long as I could… but that was too much even for my trained nostrils.

I got back up, finally breathing some proper air, even though the entire room smelt like shit anyway.

I looked down, Dave’s ass still roaring, with my friend turning around to stare at me with his knowing, smug smirk, as he effortlessly kept casually ripping such a loud fart.

Before I could flee into the bathroom, leaving him to finish ripping this fart alone, Dave bent his legs up and, from behind, easily pulled (or rather, pushed) me down into his ass again, face-farting me for a couple of more seconds.

He then finished ripping the 32-seconds long blast, ending it with a louder toot.

Finally, the room went silent for real.

Dave was laughing like a jerk and finally let me go. I remained a couple of more seconds with my head planted into his wet, red-clad ass (he didn’t seem to mind) until I finally got up and managed to sit on the bed, even though I looked completely startled, unable to function properly.

Can you get drunk on you friend’s farts?

I was speechless, I just didn’t know what to say.

I knew that Dave was gonna face-fart me tonight but I would have never expected his farts to be this strong, both sound-wise and stench-wise. This was an impressive feat even for him, this fuckin’ man, a man who always rips massive farts around us, around me, and on me.

“Looks like you couldn’t handle it.” he commented, adjusting his position, now lying on his back.

I stuttered something, trying to both thank him and insult him, which he found amusing.

I finally went into the bathroom and, further evidence of Dave’s hot farting skills, I masturbated. I basically had to as I was rock hard again. The sound of his blasts was still echoing into my ears and my nostrils were still burning because of that sewer-like smell.

I came embarrassingly fast, a matter of dozen of seconds.

As I came, I heard Dave ripping another, muffled fart from the bedroom, a pretty standard one in terms of length… but I was empty, tired, even though it sounded just as good as the previous ones, albeit very short.

I need a cold shower.

Dave is right: I can’t handle this.

…

And I fucking love it.

The End

#eproctophilia #fart kink #fart story #malefarts #davefarts

148 notes · View notes