#the fact that you're able to give them that love is what matters the most
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
merryshobbithole · 3 days ago
Text
What do your f/o's hugs feel like?
Breath taking. Literally. Sentomaru is the kind of guy to give big bear hugs when he's feeling playful, but for the most part they are very soft and warm. He's a pretty big guy, so even when he's being gentle I can feel that pleasant pressure that makes me so safe and loved. He likes to rest his chin atop my head while we hug
What are your favorite dates to have with them?
I love movie nights. Sitting together on the couch with his arm around me and my head on his shoulder. I drift off more times than not, and he always carries me to bed and kisses my forehead before whispering "Goodnight, sweetheart". I know this because I may or may not have pretended to fall asleep on him. I think he's caught on to me, but he never brings it up
What are their favorite dates with you?
Definetely stargazing. Laying down on the grass and admiring the nightsky, listening to the sounds of nature. He likes to talk about constellations and the stories behind them, and I like to listen
What's the height difference between you and f/o?
He's 279cm (9'1ft) and I'm 150cm (4'11ft)
On a scale from 1 to 10, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?
I'd say 4, maybe 5. He's not very big on PDA but he does show affection in public in his own, subtle ways: squeezing my shoulder to get my attention, placing a hand on my thigh (or even holding my hand under the table) when I'm feeling uneasy in social settings, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, stealing glances at me...
What's your favorite feature about your f/o?
Oooh, that's a difficult oneee but if I had to choose, I'd say his hands!
What do you think they smell like?
Honestly? I have never thought about that. I'll think of something and update this...
What is your f/o's biggest love language?
I'd say acts of service and gift giving. He's not very good at expressing his emotions, so he shows he cares by seeking me out when he's got the time, sometimes bringing with him a little something. It's not anything fancy, maybe he saw something I liked or needed and got it for me, and many times he shares his food with me
Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them?
We do sometimes, mostly in his and when I come over to see him. Sleeping with him in winter is the best since his body temperature is naturally very warm and he loves being the big spoon, but during summer it's best if we either sleep on opposites sides of the bed or apart. We still get back together to wish each other good morning, though (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)
What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o?
He participates in Sumo matches in his spare time (and I stand first row to cheer him on) 🗣️
What's the dynamic that you and your f/o have?
Those two awkward idiots who are into each other and everyone is able to see it but them because they're too shy and insecure. Also the short-tempered "Ew, people" introvert (him) and the people pleasing "Oh, no. People..." introvert (me)
What does your f/o do for you when you're having a bad day?
He's a great listener and the kind of person to provide solutions right off the bat, but he knows judging by my expression while he talks when I need comfort instead of logical approaches to the problem
Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?
I! Love!! Holding!!! Hands!!!!
As a matter of fact, it's the one (obvious) PDA we're comfortable with. We're not the kind of couple to do kissing in public. Holding hands with him is nice, but again his body temperature makes his palms sweaty fast. Not like I mind <3
Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where's their favorite place to kiss?
He loves those! Only in private, though. His favorite place is my nose. He says it's very round and cute... ( ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)
Vice versa, do YOU like giving THEM little kisses? If you, where's YOUR favorite place to kiss?
I ADORE giving him little kisses! Similarly to him, I feel most comfortable doing it in a more private setting. My favorite place to kiss is his cheek!
What's your favorite leisure activity to do with your f/o?
Training! I'm not a very sporty person, but I enjoy keeping him company while he's training even if I'm doing my own thing
What's your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What's your favorite nickname that they use for you, if they have one?
His compliments are more "practical", if that's the right word. He praises me when I push through or when I get something right. His way of complimenting my appearance is subtler, but it's my favorite, nonetheless. As for nicknames, he's not the kind of guy to use them, but he does call me "sweetheart" from time to time. Only in private, though
What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What's your favorite nickname to call them?
I'm horrible at giving compliments. When he does something I find attractive or puts on something nice, I short-circuit and panic. Me personally I like to call him Sen. It's just the shortened version of his name, but I think it's cute!
I want everyone to have the chance to ramble about their romantic f/os, so I'm gonna make a reblog game where yall can answer the plethora of questions I'm gonna toss down. Any of the questions you want to answer, as little or as much as you'd like!! I'll read them all. PR.O.SHIP DNI!!! AT ALL! GET OUT-
SO!! SELFSHIPPERS! RIDDLE ME THIS:
What do your f/o's hugs feel like?
What are your favorite dates to have with them?
What are their favorite dates to have with you?
Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you?
What's the height difference between you and your f/o?
On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?
What's your favorite feature about your f/o?
What do you think they smell like?
What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love.
Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them?
What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o?
What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have?
What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day?
Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?
Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc)
Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them?
What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o?
What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one?
What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them?
Okay I can't wait to see some answers!! Feel free to reblog as many times with as many f/os as you want. ANYONE CAN PARTICIPATE! SEEING THIS POST IS AN INVITATION FOR YOU!!
People I'd like to see answer this off the top of my head (but don't have to!!): @moxanji-real @one-winged-dreams @lovesickvalentines @graveluvr @clawingatmy-enclosure @starshakez @jpeg-indulgence @everynya @tropgothships @selfshipping-tboy @amelielovesamaris @pixel-comfort @fl0ralsxgar
215 notes · View notes
imeriayapping · 3 days ago
Note
an angsty shark n' roses fic about their shift from childhood friends to current rivals? stranger? do whatever dynamic you want for them. Greatly appreciated, also I am in love with your work, you're lowkey carrying this ship on your back, goat.
Pedro misses the sea. He craves its’ comfort.
The dream of stepping into the water and never coming back is always there, lifting up the pressure of living off of him. Right now, that dream also contains Fermin, who is watching him make first step towards the place of no return. Fermin, who he also wants to steal; for them to seat on the beach after long day of training, before they’ll need to return to Pedro's childhood home because his parents are about to become too worried with how long they’ve been gone for.
He misses the sea. The calm and warmth that was there when he looked at the waves while sitting under the evening sun.
Right now, Pedro can't have none of those things.
Instead, he is sitting in his van. Silent, cold and alone. Somehow, this hurts more than any of his previous crashes.
But he knows that it’s the only right thing for him to do. They can't be close anymore. Not like that, at least.
They’re all grown up now and there’s no place for such a childish thing as love between them. It's the only way for them to be.
Pedro can't risk running into Fermin on track and have everything blow up right in his face.
Maybe, it will never stop hurting. Maybe, he will never feel as warm as he did once, sitting next to Fermin on the beach. Maybe, when he comes back to the sea, it won't calm him like it did once.
But it all will be worth it in the end. He is here; he fought for his place. No one will be able to take that away from him.
And Pedro will give anything away, if it means he will be able to chase all of the glory that there is left to get. Pole position was nice, but he knows, for a fact, that podium tastes better. Podiums are very nice too, but he can feel how much more his first win will be.
And, on some nights, he goes to sleep dreaming of the championship. It doesn't matter that the place on his bed beside him is cold.
It doesn't.
But not tonight. Tonight, instead of that, he's just laying in his bed that is simultaneously too small and too empty. He and Fermin spent too many nights cramped together in this place that now it feels cold and empty. It’s still and absolutely soundless, amplifying all of the thoughts in Pedro's head. Which is evidently doing no good for him. Obviously.
Right now, all Pedro can do is curse the whole paddock that made his van the safest and most convenient place to be themselves together.
Because, now, when he needs to hide, to pretend that no feelings were ever involved, it's impossible to do with every centimetre of the van being full to the brim with the memories of them.
And that's the last thing he needs at the moment.
It was hard enough to tell Fermin everything. To see hurt paint his features in real time. To maintain his indifference, not to rush to his side and comfort him.
But it was the right decision. They truly can't continue on like that. Can't keep getting even more intertwined. It will not only be huge risk at the track, but also...
What would happen if it comes to light? Their careers would be ruined without even starting properly.
So, Pedro truly made this decision for both of their sakes. Now, all that is left is to convince his stupid heart that Fermin should no longer occupy any space in it.
It hurts to even think about that, but it needs to happen no matter what.
He can't keep carrying Fermin in his heart like he had for the years before.
To be completely honest, Pedro is cursing himself at this very moment. Because, he should’ve predicted this. Should’ve never even let Fermin anywhere near his own heart. But what can you do, when you are ten and, suddenly, there is someone right in front of your face, whose passion for bikes is on par with your own?
There was no way Pedro could ignore him at the time.
He really should have, though.
With all of this, Pedro wonders: if he could go back in time to warn his old self of what was to come out of that innocent friendship - would he?
Because, even with how much it hurts to ignore Fermin now, he can't imagine going through his life without carrying this love inside of him. Honestly, looking at his life as a whole, he would probably be different person entirely. Love has the power to change people, and it clearly did so before.
So, Pedro needed to cut out the source of love, before it had the chance to influence his riding.
There is nothing more important than his riding.
He should focus on that instead of unnecessary feelings.
The gap in his heart is irrelevant.
22 notes · View notes
haveyouseenthisskeleton · 2 days ago
Note
What if skele's SO is somebody important? like Human kingdom's millitary right hand. how would they reach? thanks for giving us those asks also this feels so nostalgic and so fluffy
Undertale Sans - He doesn't care much. You're his partner, he loves you and that's pretty much what should matter. Unfortunately, he knows it's more complex than that. He stopped counting the number of times you got attacked on live TV for marrying a monster, or simply got asked inappropriate things. Sometimes he wishes things were easier, but luckily he's the best at keeping a deadpan face and not a lot of people can reach under his smile, which preserves your privacy a little.
Undertale Papyrus - Well, he was already some sort of celebrity after he became ambassador, but now he's a super celebrity. No privacy at all, paparazzi taking picture while he's showering, people running after him to ask random things wherever he's going... Ok, maybe he wanted that at some point in his life but now he really doesn't. He misses the time when he could enjoy the silence in his room, and, you know, not hearing the 10-20 reporters under his window wondering how they're going to break in and be a problem. He loves you, really, he does, but he doesn't think his autism can't support all of this for much longer. He needs some alone time or he's going to snap.
Underswap Sans - That's fine, Blue likes the attention, and he's good at staying in control when he gets interviewed from time to time. He's known as the guy who leaves when the questions become too personal. Blue doesn't care. If you want some respect, you're going to respect him, his S/O and his privacy first. You don't, well, he doesn't either and leave. He can even get mad when they intervene while he's working and arrest them. A few learned that way to not piss him off.
Underswap Papyrus - His anxiety doubled since he knows you. It's not just the people following them everywhere, but the huge target in your back, and, well, his. He's tired of having to be under constant protection because you can be assassinated any minute. He's tired he always have to be careful, even when he's going on a grocery trip. He's tired of everyone cooing at him and asking private questions wherever he's going, or Queen Toriel asking him to pressure you on doing things for her. He just wants a normal life. He's not a soldier, he's certainly not a politician. He's just a little dude with anxiety who would love to be able to nap more than a few hours without fearing for his life. Please?
Underfell Sans - Red starts to wonder if he has a type or something. Why are all his closest people military??? Does he need protection so bad that he feels anxious when he's not around soldiers? He's kinda having an identity crisis. But, well, he's glad he has you to not feel like a total loser. Red is not impressed by all the crowd following you around, it was already the case with his brother, so, uh, that's just how relationships work for him? He can even grow a little defensive if people are overstepping your boundaries, which he would never do otherwise.
Underfell Papyrus - He feels Asgore's pressure on his shoulders every step of the way. He loves you, but he knows he can't mess that relationship up, and it's stressing him, as Edge is far from perfect, and he moves on by making mistakes on the way. The fact that any of his mistakes could fragilize the peace between humans and monsters is for sure not helping him to relax. He loves you, really, but he's more acting like Captain Edge from the royal guard than your partner, because he's afraid something turns bad. He's maybe not the best match for you, as the pressure will eventually makes him snap and hurt you without him wanting it.
Horrortale Sans - That would probably not work. Oak is extremely secretive, and suddenly being propelled in the spotlight is not for him. He's not the most friendly toward humans to begin with, except for a few special cases like you, and having so much around him all the time is making him nervous. That would only get worse when the humans noticed he often goes to isolate himself in the forest and decide to follow him to his safe place, which isn't safe anymore, which could trigger him and force him to defend himself. Oak doesn't feel comfortable being with you if you're constantly harassed by people. That's not the life he wants.
Horrortale Papyrus - He's great at supporting you, but like his brother, that would rapidly become a problem as Willow really doesn't like being exposed like that. He can understand you don't have any other choice due to your high rank in the military, but what you do outside has consequences, and he's the one dealing with them. He wishes things weren't this complicated sometimes, and that you didn't need so much protection. He's tired of your soldiers' friends looking at him like he's a bomb about to explode when he's spending more than five minutes with you. If things doesn't change, he might have to take a step back and rethink that relationship. He doesn't want to live like that forever.
Swapfell Sans - That's complicated. Really complicated. His queen wants you dead, your president wants him and her dead, and uh, it pretty much feels like you're star-crossed lovers. Nox has a deep connection with his S/O, so it's not that easy for him to just break a relationship like it is with others, so he's pretty much suffering in silence and not saying everything because he doesn't want to worry you. He goes back into his old habits Underground, overprotective, and stressing so much when you have to leave somewhere without him. It's not healthy. Rus might come to visit you at some point to ask you to please reconsider your relationship to help him. He won't go by himself, but you can force his hands. It's not only about you, and if you like him, you will know what is best for him.
Swapfell Papyrus - Oh, he's fine! Unlike Nox, he loves the attention, especially when he knows it's pissing off Queen Dicktatoriel because she can't control him whatever she does. Rus is defiant of all authority... Which might actually be a problem for you at some point, as it means he won't respect your hierarchy either lol. Rus doesn't mind all the people around you two, he can perfectly entertain himself by pranking journalists. They always have the best reactions. He doesn't mind either paparazzi and their noisy questions. He gives extreme details just so they get embarrassed and decide to leave by themselves. He has no shame.
Fellswap Gold Sans - Like usual, Wine doesn't seem like he's caring at all about your situation and acts like he would with a normal partner. On the inside though, he's a little stressed. You're exposed, a lot, both in the eyes of your people and his. He's not stupid, his King and Queen know you're his partner, which means you're in danger as they won't miss one occasion to try to control him by hitting where it hurts. It comforts Wine a little knowing you're in the military and so perfectly able to defend yourself, but all the weapons in the world are not powerful enough against magic, so he's vigilant. Oh, you'll never know he's a bit worried, he's acting mainly in the shadows, but he knows that if something happens to you, he could never forgive himself. He's playing with fire right now.
Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Coffee is worried about the mess he put himself in. He loves you, obviously, and unconditionally. But, uh, you hierarchy not so much, accusing him of spying for the King and Queen, and for his brother. Well, except his King and Queen actually accuse him to spy ON them and to give Wine and the humans access to sensitive information. Coffee is kinda in the middle of the fire, not really understanding what he's doing wrong when he's mostly at home watching Disney movies with hot cocoa. He doesn't care about politics, and the entire situation is stressing him out. He's glad you're willing to protect him at least a little from everything, and he knows Wine has his back anyway if something turns wrong, but he's anxious. He doesn't want to cause any trouble, and he realizes it might be more complicated than he thought.
21 notes · View notes
jaeyunluvr · 1 year ago
Text
love you, unconditionally (part 1)
synopsis best friends jake and sunghoon comfort reader who can't get over her ex. sunghoon is in love with the reader. pt.2
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
'hey guys, you busy? can you both come over?' that one text was all it took for jaeyun and sunghoon to rush to your apartment with all the comfort they had in the world, to offer it to you. they were your best friends ever since you knew life. they sensed you weren't okay. and you weren't the one to ask help for little struggles. they were your moral support and the only people you trusted with all your heart. they cried with you in your sorrow, they laughed with you in your joy, they fought your difficulties like it were their own nemesis. and you did the same to them. it's said to be two peas in a pod, but you three have managed to accommodate another one.
"y/n?" jaeyun knocked your door softly, his tone laced with concern as him and sunghoon waited patiently for you to open the door.
there were tears dripping down your chin and your eyes red with all the sobbing. you frantically wiped your tears, not wanting to worry your friends much, even thought it would be obvious by just looking at your face that you have been crying for a long time. you dragged yourself to the main door of your little apartment, and paused.
now all of sudden you didn't feel like facing them. you felt pathetic for crying over a guy that left you long ago, that you left long ago, both on good terms. just this one fact that your heart never stopped loving him despite everything that he did wrong to you (which you would never point out), despite being warned and despite being hurt more than once.
well now that you've called them here, you had to face them. so you opened the door and found both of them panting lightly, faces filled with absolute worry.
you looked them in the eye, and suddenly you felt thankful for having them, all the emotions came rushing through your veins once again as tears started brimming in your eyes. your lips turned into a pout and you started crying badly again.
jaeyun sighed with concern and held you by the shoulders and brought you inside, as sunghoon closed the door. jaeyun bent a little to look at your face and seeing you cry hurt him so bad. he was an emotional guy, he couldn't handle to see his best friend cry like that, so he wrapped his arms around your figure, dropping his head to the crook of your neck as he engulfed you into the warmest hug ever. sunghoon wrapped his arm around jaeyun's shoulders as he patted your head in order to give you comfort.
after a little bit of crying, three of you gathered on the couch, both of them sitting on your either side, all ready to listen to you rant.
you didn't say a word. you didn't know what to say. being honest even you questioned yourself. why does it hurt this much? why were you crying now? why can't you move on? why were you not ready to let anyone else love you?
sunghoon cleared his throat and proceeded to start a conversation.
"we know the reason you're crying right now. but why did it trigger you all of sudden, y/n?" his tone was sweet, like it was made of honey. he spoke very carefully knowing you were fully sensitive right now and every word could they said could effect you.
"i don't know hoon. i don't know what triggered me but... this feeling i have for him. i don't how to erase it. i'm not even ready to let him go, even if everything is in my head. it's like i'm gonna leave a piece of me with him, a very precious part of me." your voice started wavering, and a lump formed in your throat once again.
jaeyun grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours, with his other hand on top of yours. and you continued to speak, inhaling sharply.
"i don't think i can ever love somebody like i love him, even if he doesn't love me back, even if he has hurt me. i can never say anything to him and i just cannot bring myself to blame him. my love for him, it's unconditional. even now, if he came back to me after all this time, i would still run into his arms like nothing ever happened."
jaeyun sighed, "y/n that's not-"
"i know. i know that's not how it's supposed to be. i know i have to let him go, i need to move on. i know i would find somebody who would treat me better than him. rationally, i understand all these things. but it's quite difficult to push my heart out of this mess. i have tried so many different ways, i just can't. i don't think loving someone like i love him will be possible to anyone else. i would literally do anything for him."
sunghoon didn't know what to say, because he understood every word you said. he related to each and every word. he loved you unconditionally too, he was not ready to let you go too, he would literally do anything for you too. he didn't know the solution, just as you didn't. it hurt him to see you speak of another man like this, but there was nothing he could do, because he knew what exactly you felt.
he sensed you might start crying again, because you cried every time you had to speak your heavy heart out like this.
"i'll go get something for you to eat, we just rushed here so we didn't have time to grab something on the way." sunghoon spoke as he got up and walked to your front door, carefully shutting it close behind him.
jaeyun was not having this. he couldn't see both of his best friends hurt like this, not when there was a way.
"y/n. it's been what? 7 months since you broke up with your ex. you have to move on because we know for a fact that he isn't coming back. and we know for a fact that he can never give you back the love that you gave him all this time. see you have to get yourself together and do it yourself. nobody can get into your head and change things for you. even if you have to force yourself, you have to forget him, it's for the good. only you, can change these depressing days you have, these uncertain emotions that you feel. only you can help yourself."
you nodded as you listened to him. he was right.
"how long will you continue to be like this? all this time, you've never put yourself and your well being first. now it's high time you do that. because again, in the end only you can make yourself happy. and uhh i don't know if this is the right piece of advice but, give sunghoon a chance."
you raised your brow at him. what the hell was he saying?
"sunghoon likes you. you know it too. like hell he loves you. do you know why he doesn't get jealous or angry when you talk about your ex in front of him? because he knows. he knows how it is like to love someone when they don't love you back the same way. he knows how it is like to love someone unconditionally. he's trying to accept the truth that you won't even love him back the same. he's wrong. if you think the same, then you're wrong too. you're just not giving yourself a chance. and that asshole is just suppressing his feelings without even trying."
everything he said was right. you were not willing to let your ex go. you were not willing to give yourself a chance. you unknowingly let yourself get stuck in time, where nothing was going good for you. you realised what jaeyun meant when he said 'it is only you who can repair yourself.'
you knew sunghoon liked you. but you didn't know it was this bad. he never showed it to you of course. but listening to what jaeyun had to say, you have to reconsider your thoughts. you had to let him go. you had to move forward, you had to put yourself first.
just then a door click sound was heard, as sunghoon walked in with lots of food and drinks in his hands. he smiled at you both as he proudly walked in, kicking the door close with his foot. jaeyun being the excited pup he is, realized it was time to flip the mood over and rushed to check the food out.
"there is no way you brought us THIS much ramyeon, hoon." jaeyun gasped dramatically, not even trying to hide his happiness at the amount of food. he rushed to the kitchen bringing out the ramyeon pot as he started boiling the water.
sunghoon walked to you with a little smile, as he noticed you seemed a little better than when they walked in through that door of your apartment.
"you feeling better?" he asked as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, looking down at you oh so lovingly.
it hurt him a lot, seeing you like this. he knows he can treat you better than anyone else on this planet. he knows what you deserve. you deserve the world and he's so ready to place in the palm of your hand. but it were your feelings that mattered. no matter what he does, there is no point if you didn't love him back the same way.
he's had sleepless nights and restless days because of this fact. but before he loved you, he was your best friend. he would always be there for you, even if it meant he had to erase the love he had for you.
you nodded as you looked up at him with your lips curving into a smile. he gently pulled you into a hug as you wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your head into his chest.
sunghoon couldn't hold back at the sight of you finding comfort in him, and left a warm little kiss on the top of your head, ruffling your hair as he pulled away from the hug.
he smiled at you again as he held your hand, dragging you to the kitched to join jaeyun, as they proceeded to make your day better.
maybe, just maybe, giving sunghoon a chance was not a bad idea.
142 notes · View notes
cosmicporos · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
What Arcane characters would gift you for Christmas!
Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce
(Semi crack Drabble… sorry for going super long with Viktor’s and Jayce’s HCs. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH)
(Jayce is Hispanic in my hc :3)
ENJOY AND HAVE FUN LOVE YALL<3
Not proofread
Tumblr media
JINX
Tumblr media
Hear me out… the first thing she would plan to gift you are decorated safety googles.
As a matter of fact everything she gifts you is handmade!
She knows you love to spend time with her when she’s in her workshop and the extra spare of googles she had were pretty crappy…
“Ugh, these old things? Pfft, they look like they’ve been through a freakin’ explosion… oh wait, they probably have! We gotta get you a new pair soon toots!”
They’d be totally decked out! Lots of character as she calls it.
“Okay toots check it out! Maximum protection but most importantly! They got style!”
The googles themselves would be in her classic style, very colorful paint, cute little heart scribbles all around! And of course lots of glitter….
“"I mean, you've got to stay safe while causing mayhem, right? And hey, if we're blowing stuff up together, you'll definitely need these. Plus, I made them perfectly for you. No one else will have goggles like these... trust me!"
I totally see her adding little handmade jewelry from her gears and spare parts, would totally make you a belt or choker out of spare bullets.
Vi
Tumblr media
She would totally panic on what to get you for Christmas. Like what if you suddenly hate the thing you’ve loved since the very beginning she’s known you???
Would end up both buying and making you something!
She’s make you something small but meaningful
“Okay Okay fine! You can open mine now. Just don’t laugh too hard Cupcake…”
You’d open the poorly wrapped gift to uncover a bright pink scarf she knitted you! The stitching is a mess.. there a hole’s through the project (no doubt a missed stitch) but in all honesty it so cute you feel like your heart might explode.
"Yeah, I know I'm not, uh, the best at this kind of thing," she mutters, scratching the back of her neck, "but I figured you could use something to keep warm... and, you know, 'cause it's winter. And... you're important to me."
Guys please tell her she did an amazing job PLEASE.
She would also totally buy you a pair of combat boots! Totally saved up for months in advance.
She loves the idea of being able to match and have a bit of her style on you!
Ekko
Tumblr media
Just like Jinx (sobs) he’d also make something for you!
The first thing he’d give you would be a little sketch book full of drawings of you from random moments throughout your relationship he remembers oh so clearly.
"I've been working on it for a while... It's... it's just a bunch of drawings. I mean, not just anything. Stuff that made me think of you. Stuff we've done, or things I hope we do. I don't know, it just felt like the best way to show how I feel about... well, us."
Okay he would also totally make you matching jewelry (matching clock hand necklaces?)
You’d force him to take the hour hand since it’s shorter (heheheh little man)
Once you explain your reasoning as to why he should take the smaller one he sighs disappointedly…
"Okay, okay, I get it," he finally says, a little less playful now, his voice softening. "I guess if you want me to wear it, I can..."
Then, a grin creeps back onto his face as he adds, "But don't think I'm letting you off the hook with the minute hand. You're wearing that one for sure." He places the hour hand necklace around his neck, the smaller pendant resting there, and looks up at you with that mischievous gleam in his eye.
He pauses, holding up his necklace, "I'm still the one with the bigger job. You'll just have to keep up." A proud smug smirk now rests on his face.
Viktor
Tumblr media
FUCK WHERE DO I BEGIN I LOVE THIS MAN
o k a y. He would just like Vi panic… not because he doesn’t know what to get you but because he totally is going Christmas shopping late… very very late.
As much as I would love to say he’d make some little invention to make your day easier and give it to you for Christmas I don’t see it happening.
Not because he wouldn’t do it but because he already does it all the time! A little example, you’re late for work often? A little robot that hits you with a plastic squishy hammer every morning at 7 am waking you up when he can’t!
He’d definitely want to make Christmas special, I see him buying you something and then doing something special for you too!
Christmas morning would be greeted with warm hugs and kisses along with an even warmer bowl of potato soup!
He wanted to make sure he perfected his mother’s Bramboračka recipe. It was a once a year meal him and his mother shared every Christmas day.
He’s not a good cook by any means… but this is the one dish he can make and oh boy can he make it.
"Don't expect perfection," he says with a small, self-conscious smile, as you catch him sneaking a taste of the soup. Viktor looks up, his gaze softening. "I hope you like it," he says, and despite his usual perfectionism, there's a quiet pride in his voice. You take a sip, and the rich flavors of mushrooms, potatoes, and herbs immediately comfort you, just like his mother's love must've comforted him all those years ago.
OKAY for the making gift he planned I see him commissioning something due to the fact a lot of his inventions lack aesthetics.
Specifically I see him commissioning a music box that functions as a a jewelry box as well! He would have loved to make it himself but he was worried he wouldn’t have gotten the look right.
"Do you like it?" he asks, his voice softer than usual, as if he's worried about the reception. "I had it made... I thought... it might remind you of us."
The detail was breathtaking-floral patterns etched into the surface, with tiny gears and delicate metalwork accenting the edges. The craftsmanship was stunning, and you couldn't help but run your fingers over the smooth finish.
you lifted the lid, and a gentle, lilting melody began to play. It was slow and sweet, a tune that felt timeless, and as you stared at the tiny figurines inside, your breath caught.
His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cane, his gaze flicking between you and the music box. "I commissioned it," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I had the craftsman use a sketch I made. It's how I see us... in my mind. How I feel when I hold you." He paused, his expression softening. "I thought... I thought you deserved something that would remind you of that. Of... how much you mean to me."
Jayce
Tumblr media
Oh hon… Jayce would spoil you rotten.
I’m talking presents are overflowing underneath the tree.
You thought you lost your favorite piece of clothing? WRONG! He commissioned for more to be made in different colors and textures for you.
All the fragrances in the world he knew you would enjoy.
Cozy adorable pajamas we would give you Christmas morning so you could cuddle up drinking hot chocolate.
Spends Christmas Eve spoiling you and cuddling and being so tooth rottenly sweet.
It’s Christmas Eve, the scene was almost overwhelming. The living room looked like a perfectly curated holiday catalog-twinkling lights, a roaring fireplace, and, of course, an absurd number of gifts. Jayce sat cross-legged beside the tree, an excited grin lighting up his face as he handed you the first box. He had merely grinned, sheepish yet unrepentant. "What can I say? I got carried away?.”
"Open this one first," he urged, nearly vibrating with excitement. Inside was a bottle of an exquisite fragrance, the glass etched with delicate, swirling designs. It smelled divine-rich, warm, and entirely you.
"I figured you'd like that," he said eyes carefully watching everyone expression you make. You swear if he had a tail it would be swishing uncontrollably right now.
Christmas Day would be you spending Christmas day at his mother’s house!
(Listen I’m hc them as hispanic because for one HIS MOMS NAME HIS XIMENA… and two because why not :3 )
You have a great relationship with his Mother, she absolutely adores you and sees you as her daughter.
There’s lots of yummy food she’s prepared… perhaps too much for just 3 people?
Nonetheless, a pot of pozole, tamales de puerco and de dulce! And of course she made jayce’s favorite choco flan!
God she urges to to eat until you nearly pop! You have to undo your belt by the end of the night…
"Come, sit!" his mom insisted, pulling out a chair for you. "Jayce told me you've never had my tamales. That's a crime! Here, start with this." She placed one on your plate, her eyes twinkling.
Jayce sat beside you, his grin widening as you took your first bite. "Good, right?" he asked, nudging you playfully.
You could only nod, savoring the perfectly seasoned masa and tender filling.
Later in the evening, when everyone was too full to move, Jayce leaned over and slipped his hand into yours. His eyes were soft, his voice low as he said, "I'm glad you're here. This—" he gestured to the lively scene around you, "—feels perfect with you."
Tumblr media
752 notes · View notes
astra-ravana · 4 months ago
Text
Tips For Working With Demons
Tumblr media
Here are some tips and general advice for working with demons and spirits. I'll probably add more to this list as things come to mind.
• These are individuals, people like you and me. Many of them have had human incarnations here on Earth. They understand your struggle and have their own issues and emotions as well. They have favorite things, best friends, family, and feelings. They are powerful, yes, but should also be treated with love and respect.
• They can and will speak to you. If you possess psychic abilities you may be able to channel some or all demons. People often ask how to tell the difference between the voice of a spirit, or an internal voice or hallucination. Spirit will never speak over you, interupt your ability to think freely, or control your mind. They simply speak, if you're willing to listen. They may also manifest physically, move objects, visit your dreams, send you signs, they have many ways to get their point across.
• Do not stress over time. If you haven't spoken to or left an offering to your patron demon in a few weeks because you've been depressed or busy, this is fine. Spirits do not experience time as we do and your absence is little more than a blink of an eye to them.
• Get creative with your offerings. King Paimon loves chocolate, Bune loves fancy perfume, Lucifer fancies himself some whiskey. You may wonder how offerings help demons, since they lack a mortal body. All physical beings possess a spirit and as such, all physical objects possess an essence. This essence can be absorbed by a spirit to allow them to taste/experience the offering. This gives them energy as well. Fun fact: once the essence of a consumable offering is taken it will be dull and tasteless. Try it sometime.
• Remember to say "thank you". Show appreciation and gratitude to any demons that lend their time and power to enhance your life. This is a team effort and no one likes to be used. Friendship and growth should be your top priorities when working with spiritual entities.
• Go ahead and draw that sigil badly. It's ok to only give a tiny drop of blood. Demons are far from perfect and do not expect perfection from you. Your effort and intention is what matters most.
• Stay away from Solomonic or Abrahamic methods that aim to control or trap demons. This is not likely to end well for you and it is a huge betrayal to the trust of a powerful cosmic being. If you are afraid of the interaction, there are many other forms of personal protection you can employ.
• Chances are there is a demon or spirit that resonates with you. Don't get discouraged if your first several attempts don't spark a connection. Read up on different entities and mediatate to find where you should try next.
• Let go of your preconceived expectations. Demons are not going to just make you rich, successful, or smart. These things are the result of forming strong bonds of power and raising one's consciousness. Often times you won't get what you want, but what you need instead. Spirits can see the bigger picture of who we are, our capabilities, and our soul's path. Trust their vision.
Tumblr media
790 notes · View notes
Note
So I'm putting together an In Defence of Cassie PowerPoint for a PowerPoint night with friends. Do you have any arguments for or against her? I trust your opinion and am curious.
Let's see.
"She's too powerful, too unique, too far-seeing, and not good enough for Jake! What a Mary Sue!"
Counterpoint: May I introduce you to the reigning champion fan favorite, Sad White Boy Tobias?
Only nothlit ever to regain the ability to morph
Only known human-andalite hybrid ever to exist
Regarded as savior by entire hork-bajir species
Entire existence is a time paradox the war hinges upon
Pulls the canonically "most beautiful girl in our grade", who turns down 6 or 7 other offers in favor of Bird Boy
Correctly predicted planetary ecology 65 million years in advance
Believed to be immune to 2-hour limit
In conclusion: y'all wouldn't be crying "Mary Sue" if Cassie was a sad white boy, and I can prove it.
"She's too weak and hand-wringing, and she never helps the war effort!"
Counterpoint: First of all, the fact that the same people say this in the same breath as "she's too powerful" is... telling. Secondly:
She saved the entire team's lives in #24, in #29, in #44, and in MM1, among others.
Specifically calling out #44 — that ending shows she is willing and able to be ruthless when her friends are in need. She doesn't like slaughtering human-controllers, but if the alternative is everyone she loves dying, then she'll fucking well do it.
Much like Jake (see: Sad White Boy), she's more willing to risk herself than her friends, hence the end of MM1
Her medical knowledge saves Marco from rabies, Ax from brain!appendicitis, and Tobias from bird flu.
Her survivalist knowledge saves everyone in #25 (the Arctic), MM2 (Cretaceous Era), #11 (rainforest), and #14 (desert).
In conclusion: Cassie's only idealistic-looking by the standards of this extremely morally gray team.
"She's so unfair to Jake!"
Counterpoint: Jake? The Jake who refused to speak with her for weeks? Jake who proposes marriage while they're still broken up? Jake who announces he'll never trust Cassie again because she [checks notes] saved his brother's life? That Jake?
Also:
She gives him tons of emotional support in #16, #21, #47, and other times he's feeling low.
They have a healthy argument where they air differences and come to an understanding in #9.
Did I mention he doesn't just dump her but ghosts her in the middle of the war's endgame?
They're teenagers. Their relationship isn't perfect, but it is built on open communication and mutual respect which is more than Rachel and Tobias can say
She's fighting a war, and PTSD for that matter. No, she doesn't have infinite emotional bandwidth.
In conclusion: Their relationship is fine, their breakup is mutual, and her behavior only looks bad if, once again, you're holding Cassie to a different standard than you are Jake.
"She shouldn't have trusted Aftran!"
Counterpoint: friendly reminder that the alternative was killing a 6-year-old for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. If that's what you think Cassie should've done, that tells us more about you than about her.
"She spends too much time moralizing!"
Counterpoint: this is a book series about war, not a friggin' video game. If you want moral pornography, go play Call of Duty. If you want sci fi realism, then you're going to have to accept that a majority of humans prefer not to kill their fellow humans if at all possible.
"She's a ripoff of [insert character here]!"
Counterpoint: literally every single one of these says more about the commenter than about the source work. "Every dystopia is set in the U.S." is the kind of thing only people who only read books by American authors would think. "All epic fantasy is Eurocentric" => tell me you only read books by white people without telling me. I'm glad you think Cassie is too similar to Willow Rosenberg, but there are at least 6 other stories in the known world, and I hear some of them even feature sweet/dorky/caring characters who are secretly ultra-powerful.
In conclusion: You don't have to like Cassie as a (fictional) person, but 85% of criticisms directed at her are bad-faith attacks on one of the 1990s' only fat Black female gnc ultra-powerful superheroes.
626 notes · View notes
kannouo · 5 months ago
Text
Ticklish?
fandom: obey me pairing: demon brothers & dateables x gn!reader warnings: suggestive on asmo's part summary: in which they find out you are ticklish. prompt by anon: The brothers + dateables reaction to the MC being ticklish because ik most of them are menaces about it A/N: lol rest in peace. good fucking luck mc. also i swear to god i know there's more to satan's character than his love of cats it just fits guys pls forgive me
Tumblr media
LUCIFER
• Lucifer likes to appear as this super-serious macho man figure who, although he has his moments of going along with his siblings' antics, isn't a very playful guy. He's unlikely to find this out because he was trying to tickle you. Rather, it'd be by complete coincidence.
• When he offered to teach you to dance in the privacy of his room as classical music played in the background, you weren't expecting his hand on your waist to bother you as much as it did. Try as you might, you can't hide from him how you're biting your lip and stifling a giggle.
• "Is something funny to you?" He asks, unamused. You shake your head.
• "No, sorry. It just... tickles a bit."
• The only reaction you get in the moment is a hum and a nod. You're admittedly a little suspicious, but mostly grateful the dance lesson continued normally until you were able to return to your room.
• He's so unbothered by this new information, in fact, that you may even dare to think he'd all but forgotten about it when a few weeks pass by. Little did you know, he remembered. He was just storing it away for later use.
• Even the student council's representative of the human world was not immune to falling into Satan and Belphie's schemes, it seemed. After a failed attempt to capture a pic of a sleeping Lucifer, you find yourself trapped between him and the wall as he looms over you. You desperately hope that, just maybe, Satan or Belphie would come to your rescue — but alas, you had been left abandoned in the lions' den.
• "Bold of you to attempt to sneak up on me in such a vulnerable state," he clicked his tongue, agitated. "I'd assume you would know better by now."
• "I'm sorry, I—"
• "'Sorry'? Yes, you will be." He closed in on you.
• The shrieks that emanated from Lucifer's room that night could only be described as unholy as he unleashed his brand-new punishment on you. Out of everyone in the House of Lamentation, you hadn't expected the mighty first-born to be the one to tickle you half to death, but it was effective. If that was what was waiting for you, you were more than willing to give Satan and Belphie the cold shoulder the next time they suggested a new, ingenious prank to play on Lucifer. Sorry guys. It's not worth it.
"Come on, MC, this'll be our best work yet," Satan trails after you you down the hallway, clearly not keen on letting the matter go. He had taken the liberty of convincing you of the Anti-Lucifer League's newest escapade, as Belphie apparently refuses to be of any help. "We've planned it all out. It won't go wrong this time. I swear." You turn to look at Satan, catching a glimpse of Lucifer a short distance away over the fourth-born's shoulder. All it took was a knowing smirk and a mildly threatening gesture with his hands for you to turn pale. "MC?" "...I'm good, Satan, thanks."
Tumblr media
MAMMON
• Unlike his older brother — Mammon would absolutely find this out on purpose.
• He's the spiritual eldest when it comes to playing around with his siblings, so he's experienced in tickle-fighting. You, unfortunately, only realised this while wrestling with him, when he suddenly starts tickling your sides to gain the upper-hand. It works, and now you're flailing around beneath him.
• "Hah! Take that!" You hear him laugh triumphantly above you as you struggle to force his attacking hands away from you. "Ya give in?!"
• "Yeees! You win, you win!"
• After your rather humiliating fake-wrestling defeat, he only gets more annoying with abusing your weakness as the days go by. As he learns all of your worst spots, he gets more and more bold, until not one day can go by where you aren't tackled and tickled to tears by the Avatar of Greed.
• Eventually, you're going to have to set some ground rules with this guy, because he just will not stop. For weeks after that initial incident, you find yourself constantly on edge no matter where you are, because he could be anywhere. Just planning the next tickle.
• Sure, it can be fun at first, but he always manages to take his play-fighting just a little too far. You don't have the same tolerance as his brothers, being a human and all, and he needs to remember that.
• Being tickled by Mammon is nowhere as unfair and torturous as it is with Lucifer though, mostly because unlike his older brother, Mammon is ticklish too. This means you can fight back and potentially even gain the upper-hand. It's unlikely you'll win in a chase, however — no matter if you're the one running or if he is — he's just too damn fast.
• He's the definition of being unable to take what he dishes out. Not only does he cry 'uncle' as soon as you land on a weak spot, but he'll be super pouty and embarrassed afterwards too. As if he wasn't the one who initiated it.
"Mammooon..." You poke his cheek, trying to provoke any sort of response. He huffs and turns his head away, but still doesn't say a word. "Mams... Babe..." "That ain't fair," he finally speaks, his cheeks tinging with red. "Ya can't call me that when I'm tryin' to be mad at ya." You can't help but smile at the demon before you. "I'm sorry for tickling you, Mammon." "Yeah? Well... I think I'm owed some compensation for that. 5,000 Grimm, at least!"
Tumblr media
LEVIATHAN
• Levi wouldn't find this out on purpose. Or, rather, at all. At least not on his own.
• He freaks out and backs away every time his hand manages to accidentally brush against yours when he hands you something. He apologises profusely and feels like the absolute perverted scum of the earth when he happens to bump into you in the hallway. He refuses to hold hands with you beyond intertwining your pinkie fingers together, because anything more than that is too lewd for him.
• So yeah. He's not going to tickle you. Not even accidentally.
• He only ends up finding out when he catches you and Mammon having a tickle fight in the living room one day, to which he promptly leaves before either of you can notice him. Both to quell the jealousy bubbling in his chest, and to avoid Mammon roping him into his shenanigans.
• After that, he... does nothing, really.
• See, here's an interesting fact about the Avatar of Envy: He's ticklish too. Very ticklish. And his siblings, especially Mammon, tease him for it all the time. He absolutely hates it and it's just not funny to him. So even if he was able to touch you without taking 6000 points of damage to his psyche, he still wouldn't tickle you, because he understands how it feels.
• Instead, you could say that you two form an alliance of sorts. You defend him when one of his brothers (MAMMON) starts chasing him — using your pact if you have to — and he allows you safe refuge in his room if somebody is after you. His door has a lock on it after all, and knowing the consequences of trying to force their way inside the resident hermit's safe abode, your pursuer is unlikely to look for you in there.
• He might make fun of you a little for it, but that's the most he'll do. He won't lay a finger on you. Good guy Leviathan.
You restlessly chap on Levi's door, moving back and forth on your toes as you desperately hope for him to let you in. The seconds count down before your attacker will find you, when finally... Click. The door unlocks and you grab the handle, swinging it open and nearly hitting Levi in the face in the process. "Sorry, sorry!" You profusely whisper-yell apologies as you shut the door behind you. He locks it, and you can finally breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank you... You saved me..." Levi's cheeks burn red at your words. "Y—yeah, well... don't make a big deal out of it, normie. If you're staying in my room, then you're playing games with me too while you're here, okay? So... make yourself useful or I'll kick you back out!"
Tumblr media
SATAN
• Maybe this is just me, but have you ever had a cat on your lap that just won't stop moving around and it sort of tickles? Yeah.
• A simple date to a cat café went from good, to better, then to worse in a very short span of time. Most of the kitties were awake and lively, wandering around and allowing you to pet them. So when one of the cats jumped up on your lap, both you and Satan were ecstatic, cooing endlessly at the little ball of fur that had made itself at home on your legs.
• The only problem was, the cat seemed to be unable to find a comfortable spot. You were trying to stay still, you really were, but the cat's paws constantly moving against your thighs made you really need to move around in your seat. Satan noticed how you had to force yourself to stay put by gripping onto the table in front of you, and he also noticed how you were biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling like an idiot, but he didn't say anything at first.
• The first time Satan tickles you, it comes completely out of nowhere. To you, at least. Some exams were coming up and you agreed to let him tutor you, but the material was just so boring, and Satan's delivery of it certainly wasn't helping to keep you engaged...
• You were abruptly brought back to reality by a sharp jab to your side. You jumped and looked around, as if searching for the culprit, only to see Satan, with his eyes narrowed at you. "Pay attention."
• "I was!"
• "No you weren't," he poked you once in the side for each word to enunciate his sentence, and then grabbed you by the waist to prevent you from escaping. "Are you going to listen to me now?"
• "Ye-ees!"
• "Are you sure?"
• Satan's kind of a dick about it, to be honest. He'll tickle you to convince you to do things with him. You don't want to partake in his newest prank against Lucifer? Uh... yes you do, remember?
• He's also a hypocrite. He is ticklish but he hates it just as much — if not more — than Levi. So if you do it back to him, he'll shove you off or yell at you.
"Fi—fine! Fine!" You yell, and Satan's attack on your sides ceases. He looks down at you with an eyebrow raised. "You'll do it?" "Yes!" You nod furiously. If getting him to stop meant agreeing to prank call Lucifer, you suppose you'll just have to do it. "Now get off!" "Good," he smiled and moved off of you from where he had you pinned. "Now, about the plan I had prepared..."
Tumblr media
ASMODEUS
• ...You know the deal. There is going to be a struggle keeping these headcanons SFW.
• He can find out one of two ways: the first being that he was doing your makeup and somehow found out by brushing too close to your neck or jawline, the second being that you two were leading up to... other activites.
• We'll be going with the former for my own sake lol. He realises what your reaction was for after the first time you tilt your head away from him, and can't help but tease you for it right away.
• "Oh darling, how did I not know this before? Are you keeping secrets from me? ♡"
• Somehow, Asmo ends up being one of the worst for how he takes advantage of this. He will tickle you anywhere at any time and for any reason.
• If he thinks you're not paying enough attention to him, he'll tickle you so you're forced to focus on him. If he sees you using makeup wipes on your poor, delicate skin, he'll tickle you as a "warning" to never do that again. Eventually he just starts making up reasons.
• You can tickle him back, but he enjoys it and will try to use it to lead into sex. So, unfortunately, that won't work to dissuade him.
• Don't think for a moment he's embarrassed or ashamed of his behaviour in public settings, because he isn't. He has no qualms with tickling you in a restaurant with strangers around, and doesn't care how much attention you end up attracting. It's hell.
• He's another boy you're going to have to set boundaries with at some point just because of how frequent it is. The tipping point came when he squeezed your leg in the middle of a student council meeting and you hit your knee so hard on the table you were convinced you broke something.
• He'll back off if you tell him to. You just need to actually tell him to, otherwise he won't realise how much it bothers you.
"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry..." Asmo pouts as he gently rubs your aching knee. "I didn't realise you'd react like that." You huff and turn your head away from him. "Don't turn this on me." "I'm not!" He shakes his head and leans forward to look you in the eye. "I swear! I just didn't know that'd happen. Can you forgive me, honey? I promise you I won't do it again. I can't have you bruising that beautiful skin because of me..."
Tumblr media
BEELZEBUB
• Beel, similar to Levi, isn't likely to find out on his own. For different reasons, though.
• Beel isn't afraid of physical touch, but he is scared of hurting you. He's so big and you're so small. He's fully aware of his strength, and even if he has good control over it, he tends to treat you like how one would handle a delicate China plate. It's not that he doesn't touch you at all, but he's so careful when he does that he probably won't even unintentionally find out that you're ticklish.
• The only way he'd find out is if he stumbled across you in the midst of a (usually very one-sided) tickle fight with one of his brothers. In which case, he will usually step in to save you.
• As the second-youngest, he's used to being teased in a similar manner by his older siblings. So if he sees you pinned down, he'll intervene so you can catch your breath and get away.
• If you run to him for protection, much like Levi, he'll take you back to his room and won't let anyone else except Belphie inside until it's safe to assume whoever was after you has given up. You don't have to, but if you thank him by bringing him a few snacks from the fridge later, he'll be happy.
• Such a sweetheart and probably won't ever tickle you. He really doesn't want to upset you.
• The only time I can see him tickling you is if you're having a bad day and he decides you need cheering up. He'll be sat next to you, staring intently at your frowning face as the gears turn in his head. He doesn't know what your day was like or why you're so peeved, but he knows he wants to see you smile again.
• He'll scoot closer, trap you in a hug with one arm and use his free hand to (very carefully) tickle you until you give in. He'll apologise, but as long as that smile is back on your face, he's satisfied.
• "Do you feel better?" He asks, a sweet smile on his face as he pats your head. And you have to admit, you do.
You could swear you saw Beel's eyes sparkle as you offered him the box of chocolates in your hands. You were saving them to eat yourself at some point, but... seeing as Beel valiantly defended you from Asmo earlier, you figure he at least deserves this. He manages to pry his eyes away from the chocolates to look at you. "...Why?" "Because you saved me from Asmo earlier," you explain and hold the box of chocolates closer to him, urging him to take them. "This is my 'thank you'." Finally, he takes the box from you. "...You didn't have to." Despite his words, he opens the lid and starts devouring the chocolates inside so quickly that you don't even have time to remind him to take the wrappers off.
Tumblr media
BELPHEGOR
• There are a few scenes in-game where he tickles or tries to tickle the MC, so yes, he'd absolutely find out very quickly.
• Belphie is not only a little shit — he's also spoiled and likes getting his way. So, like Satan, he'll tickle you to convince you of things. Usually it's when he doesn't feel like doing dinner duty or cleaning his room, or if he can tell you're hiding something from him.
• The first time he tickles you, it's because he had an assignment due the next morning. One he had procrastinated on for weeks. You had reminded him time and time again to start working on it as the deadline approached, but he ignored you, and the situation he's in now is, quite frankly, his own fault. So even as he whines to you about how sleepy he is and tries to butter you up so you'll do it for him, you don't give in.
• That is, until he has an idea. With an exaggerated pout on his face, he moved up behind you and wrapped his arms around you in a hug, lazily slumping against your back. Just as you were about to scold him, you felt him start to ruthlessly tickle your sides.
• With his body weight on you, there was little you could do. And even as you fell to the ground, he simply followed you, taunting and teasing you the whole time. When he thinks you've had enough, he hovers above you with a smirk on his face.
• "So? Do you feel like doing it now?"
• Little fucker. He cuddles with you later to "thank" you, but you're still salty about it.
• Like most others on this list, you can get him back. He's the baby of the family so of course he's ticklish. Expect him to use dirty tricks to win any tickle fight you initiate, however. Like "giving in" only to immediately attack once you stop, or using the fluffy end of his tail to catch you by surprise.
• Beel tends to come to his rescue a lot as well, so beware of that.
"I—I give! I giiive!" You smirk in triumph as the youngest demon brother surrenders beneath you, and you let up your tickling assault. You roll off of him, fixing your ruffled hair. "See? That's what happens when you challenge me," with your back turned, you're too busy congratulating yourself to notice Belphie slowly sitting up behind you. "Anyway, you need to— AH—!" You shriek as you're tackled down to the bed again, cursing as Belphie grins down at you, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic light. "Belphie! That's cheatING—!!" And so, it starts again.
Tumblr media
DIAVOLO
• Diavolo likely finds out in a similar fashion to Lucifer. Only it might be at a ball rather than in a secluded area.
• He's confused at first. He knows what tickling is, but being extremely sheltered, he's never received much affection like that in his life. As a result, it takes him a moment to put the pieces together. Once he does, he smiles fondly down at you and apologises, and that is that.
• ...For now.
• What he didn't show right away was just how giddy this discovery made him. What an adorable trait to have! And one he had to see more of. He'd missed out on tickle fights his whole life — he had to wonder what they were like?
• He made a mental note to experiment with this information the next time you came around to the palace. And that he did.
• Literally yells "tickle fight!" before pulling you close and going to town. You have to yell for him to be gentler, because inexperienced as he is, what should tickle actually kind of hurts at first.
• "Ah, I'm so, so sorry," he relaxes his fingers a little, no longer digging into your skin. "Is this any better? My sincere apologies."
• His apology would seem a lot more genuine if he didn't continue to tickle you while saying it.
• That, and he doesn't quite understand the concept of a tickle fight. What he's doing to you is more like a tickle beat-down. It's so one-sided it's almost comical. Unable to fight back or escape, Barbatos has to come and tell him to stop before you piss yourself.
• This was fun! He decides completely on his own. We should do this more often! He says, as you are gasping for breath on the fucking ground.
• After this first experience, he incorporates more minor tickling into your daily lives. Instead of trapping you like the first time, he'll sneakily poke you while walking by, and then look back at you with a wave and a completely innocent smile on his face.
"MC? Apologies, you seem to be in the middle of something. It won't take long," Diavolo smiles as he enters the empty student council hall. Indeed, you are in the middle of sorting some letters, but it isn't as if you can deny an audience to the Demon King. "I have a question for you. It appears... as if you've been avoiding me lately. Why is that?" You blink, trying to discern if he was serious. The look on his face said yes, he was. "...Diavolo, whenever we sit next to each other, you keep reaching over to tickle me." He meets you with a surprised expression as if this is somehow news to him. "I did not know it was such a problem," He confesses. "Very well, then. I'll stop. If I do, will you start sitting beside me again? I quite miss it."
Tumblr media
BARBATOS
• He already knew. Lol.
• He officially "finds out" for the first time when he just happens to walk in on Diavolo tickling you half to death and saves you from his grasp. In reality, he already knew this was going to happen and planned to show up just in time to clean you off of the floor once Diavolo had his fun.
• You're thankful he showed up, though. If not for the fact he rescued you, then for the tea he served you afterwards to ensure you wouldn't have had an entirely terrible experience that day.
• As for what he does with this information? Well, not much. At least, it doesn't seem like it to you.
• Barbatos knows how to be sneaky with how he uses this to hear you laugh throughout the day. He'll brush his hand against your skin while reaching for something, "accidentally" touch your back and make you jump while walking by you, and it will always seem unintentional. At first, that is.
• Red flags start to raise when these accidents seem to happen multiple times, every single time you're around him. He knows when you're starting to get suspicious too, and that's around the point he stops even trying to pretend like it isn't intentional. He'll keep doing it, but flash you an infuriating, coy smile after each time.
• Now it's war.
• If this is the game he's playing, you might as well participate.
• The only problem being... it's Barbatos. He knows when you're planning something and exactly how you're going to execute it. You can't even land a hand on the bastard.
• And even if you did somehow manage to (AKA he lets you), you genuinely have no idea if he's even ticklish. He won't react to anything you do to him, but he also won't give you a straight answer if you bluntly ask him if he's ticklish or not. He just looks at you with that signature poker-faced smile. And with that, he turns and walks away. YOU NEED ANSWERS.
• Eventually you become convinced that he isn't actually ticklish at all, but he lets you think he could be because he enjoys seeing you so determined to catch him off-guard.
"B—Barbatos!" You jerk your body away as his hand "somehow" manages to pinch your side while reaching for the utensils drawer next to you. He smiles. "My apologies, it was an accident." He says, and you call bullshit right away. With a newfound desire for revenge, you latch onto his side and start to tickle, but frown when he doesn't react at all. In fact, he simply opens the drawer and takes out a few of the cutlery inside like he initially intended to do, as if you aren't even there. He meets your eye with another, slightly more amused smile, before turning and leaving the room. You stand there, dumbfounded. Though... you could've sworn you saw him flinch a little when you first touched him.
Tumblr media
SIMEON
• Simeon is also ticklish and is another example of someone who knows how it feels. He's not likely to tickle you often.
• That's not to say he doesn't find it amusing or cute — he absolutely does — but his first thought when the back rubs he gave you with the intention of being soothing turned ticklish wasn't that he should take advantage of it, rather that it's just something new he now knows about you.
• Simeon won't ever intentionally tickle you because it's, well, mean. He'll only do it if he gets "permission", meaning if you do it to him first.
• He enjoys seeing you smile and laugh, but he doesn't ever want to go too far. Most of the tickle fights you initiate are won by him — don't let his appearance and sweetness fool you, he's still much stronger than you are — but they also don't last long. He'll stop, apologise, and offer to make up for it with anything you want.
• "Sorry, sorry," Simeon smiles as he helps you back to your feet, brushing your hair out of your face. "Are you alright? Come on, let's sit down together. No more tickling, though."
• He... tries to be a protector of sorts if Solomon or anyone else is after you. I can't say it works out well for him though, and whoever was after you just ends up with two victims instead of one.
• Bless him for trying. At least you're not suffering alone.
• When you come around to Purgatory Hall, depending on your friendship with Luke, you two may have playful tickle wars that go on. He won't interfere, but Luke does tend to use Simeon as a shield or claims that you're "bullying" him. Simeon never takes it too seriously and you can usually continue your playful tickle-attack uninhibited.
You lay, breathless and sweaty on the floor. You stare up at the ceiling as you pant for air and slowly sit up, wiping at your forehead. You turn to the man sprawled out on the floor right next to you, the both of you having just endured the same tickle-attack by Solomon. "...Are you alright?" Simeon slowly turns his head to look at you and meets you with an exhausted smile. "Yeah, I'm fine... you?" "...Yeah." You sigh. Silence fills the air for a moment, interrupted only by your heavy breathing. "...Wanna get him back?" As angelic as Simeon still is... even he can't refuse that offer.
Tumblr media
SOLOMON
• This shady sorcerer absolutely finds out on purpose.
• After one too many times where you've outright banned him from the kitchen to prevent some kind of national tragedy, he decides he's owed some kind of penance. So the one time you allow him in the kitchen while you cook — under strict supervision — he sneaks up behind you and...
• "Solomon!" You squeal, nearly dropping the ingredients in your hands as he hugs you from behind and uses the position to start furiously tickling you.
• "What? Why are you laughing?" He asks cheekily. "You better be careful. You don't want to ruin dinner, right?"
• After the first incident, it gets much, much worse.
• He'll tickle you at any time, anywhere, whenever he feels like it. It doesn't matter how busy you are or how important what you're working on is, he will interrupt you out of nowhere to tickle you until he's satisfied. Prick.
• He thinks it's funny to tickle you in inconvenient or inappropriate settings, too. If you're sat in front of or next to him in class, you can expect him to start repeatedly poking you or enchanting a few items to tickle you as you desperately try to hold back any reactions because then you'll be the one embarrassing yourself.
• He's also ticklish, but will go to great lengths to avoid you ever figuring that out. Probably drinks some kind of potion that dulls his sensitivity before seeking you out to tickle you just in case you try to get revenge on him.
• Of course, you can still catch him when he's unprepared. And when you do, it's war.
• At least Purgatory Hall is never boring with you two around.
You stare down Solomon as you face one another at opposite ends of the dining table. He's grinning at you, and every now and again tries to rush over to where you are, at which point you circle the table to keep the distance. "You can't keep going forever." He taunts. "Watch me, motherfucker," you curse, but it's true. You're already out of breath. He tries to charge you again and you react quickly, hurrying back around to the other side of the table. Just as you do, however, he changes direction. You're unable to turn around in time and he catches you, damn near lifting you up into the air with how he grabs you. "Solomon! Stop it!" "You started it," he argues. "Now suffer the consequences."
918 notes · View notes
that-one-p00k1e · 2 months ago
Text
─────〃★ for you, I wouldೃ⁀➷˚ ♡ ⋆。˚
Tumblr media
✧ summary: things they would do for you ft. Ren Kaji, Hajime Umemiya, Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suo, Jo Togame, Mitsuki Kiryu, Akihiko Nirei, Tasuku Tsubakino, Toma Hiragi, Yamato Endo, Chika Takiishi
✧ content: fluff, gn!reader (I think), OOC most likely, established!relationship, not proofread I'm sorry, tsubakino's pronouns are confirmed he/him ✦ a/n: HAAAAPPPYYYYY NNNNNEEEWWW YYYYEEAAARRR BBBBIITTCHHESSSSS😝😝😝😝 six months since I last posted omg-! I'm still alive! 😍 tysm for the support while I'm gone ily'all <33
Tumblr media
—REN KAJI would turn off his music and pull down his headphones to listen to you ramble. Though he had his attention to his phone, he'd give silent nods and hums here and there to let you know that he was listening. Occasionally, he'd throw in little comments and questions regarding the topic you were telling. Little to your knowledge, your rambles to him were like taking notes. He'd mentally highlight things that he thought were important, and would keep it in mind in the future. He's the type to look nonchalant, but deep down, he cares more than he lets on. “... What's wrong?” he asked as he heard you abruptly stop talking. “Forget it.. You're not even listening.” You looked away in disappointment, letting out a quiet sigh. “But I have been listening,” he tried to reassure, feeling slightly guilty for making you feel neglected. “Really? Then repeat all the things I've been saying.” He, in fact, did repeat most things you've mentioned and justified his word.
—HAJIME UMEMIYA would gift you random bouquets every week, as if he hasn't gifted you enough already. What's special about his bouquets is that you can never guess the theme for the week. First, he started off classic – flowers, with the consideration of them being fake so that you'd be able to keep them forever. Then, he brought you a bouquet of snacks and sweets that he knew were your favorite. Next thing you knew, he's giving you a bouquet of money he's been secretly saving up on. You felt guilty; guilty for the effort he's been putting, just for you to return it with some unprofessional homemade baked goods. It felt unfair. But does he sail on the same boat? No. He's going to reassure you that he expects nothing in return, and that you being there for him and loving him was what all he ever wanted and needed.
—HARUKA SAKURA would spend his free time struggling to assemble a Lego flower bouquet set after learning about White Day. He wanted to return your gesture of gifting him during Valentine's, despite himself denying such intention. It took a lot of effort, in both figuring out what to get while fearing you wouldn't like it –to the point that he would even call over Nirei and Suo for help – and in building the tiny pieces of bricks after settling on a final decision for the gift. He persisted to build it himself, no matter how much his friends offered to help. He wanted to make sure it was his work purely, done with his own hands. The whole process was frustrating, infuriating, and was basically a test of patience. But after seeing how you kept the received bouquet in a glass vase – delicately treasuring it on your bedroom display – he has never felt so proud yet flustered his whole life.
—HAYATO SUO would waltz into the café without a care in the world while having scattered lipstick stains decorating his face. Moreover, it wasn't your idea in the first place– it was his. Your relationship wasn't out yet, and he thought, what better way to publish it than announcing it wordlessly but gives double the impact? “Hm? Oh, this? It's my beloved’s artwork. Do you like it?” he'll innocently ask when someone questions the visible lip prints. Sakura was a blushing mess, and Suo was very much enjoying the look of bewilderment from others as they received the unspoken news. This was the reaction he wanted. This was what boosted his pride furthermore in being your boyfriend, and he'd shamelessly do it again to show off his love for you to the world.
—JO TOGAME would be your personal walking object holder. He'd take your bag and sling it over his shoulder with you needless to say; he'd keep hair bands around his wrist in case you decided to tie your hair up; he'd hold your shopping bags throughout your journey at the mall. Never were you the one to request his aid first, and never has he complained about being tired. He'd even go barefoot just to lend you his footwear when your feet start to hurt in heels. Moreover, he'd carry you bridal along the way. Despite you worrying over him tiring himself, he persisted to keep ahold of you. He loves seeing you enjoy life without a care in the world, and he'd do anything to carry burdens that dare to get in the way of that enjoyment.
—MITSUKI KIRYU would deliberately lose in a game of UNO and let you take the victory when he could've won decades ago. The whole time the both of you were playing, he's been holding a Wild and Draw 4 but refrained from using them. Instead, he kept drawing cards and just went yolo to buy time. Though he always played fair, seeing your dejected expression after losing many rounds this time was a little too unbearable for him. He promised himself for once, just this once will he let himself take a loss. He knew it wouldn't be fair, but if it meant that he'll get to see you smile in victory, then he doesn't find any problem with that.
—AKIHIKO NIREI would write down even the littlest of details about you that were thrown at him. You'd be casually mentioning a trivial preference as a ramble, but never had he pulled out his notebook and pen so quickly. During his early stages of getting to know you, he made sure to memorize everything you told him about yourself; your favorite color, favorite food, dream place to go, he even looked up your zodiac sign after knowing your birth date. He doesn't mean it in a creepy way. In fact, it was his way to know how to get closer to you. Despite already having the skill to remember it all, he likes to write it down to make sure as well as for keepsake. Thanks to that, now he has a cheat sheet on how to make you smile.
—TASUKU TSUBAKINO would wear himself a nail polish color that reminds him of you. Or, moreover, your favorite color. He loved being stylish, and what better way to do it than having at least a part of you involved in it? He'd walk proudly in his heels that you got him as a gift, and was even more ecstatic if someone complimented them, proud that your taste in fashion was appreciated by others. He'd ask to trade manicures with you for a date, where the both of you choose a nail look for each other. But if you weren't into painting nails, he'll ask you to choose a look for him instead. On special or fancy occasions, he'd often wear your fav lip combo or makeup look, as he treasures your choices and views them as something precious and only to be used when necessary.
—TOMA HIRAGI would pull up to the function wearing either a Hello Kitty or Kuromi tee under his gakuran jacket. Was it his personal choice to do it? Clearly not. Was it his choice to willingly wear it for the sake of his beloved significant other? Very much so. After many attempts of pleading, he caved in and (begrudgingly) agreed to your whole ‘matching outfits’ idea. He ate a pill or two when he saw how he looked in the mirror. Then ate two more when he finally appeared in public, especially at how much Umemiya and the others teased him for it. It was embarrassing, but was it worth it? No questions needed. The beaming smile you immediately wore when seeing him agree to your shenanigans, was enough proof that it was all – undoubtedly – worth it.
—YAMATO ENDO would revel in the feeling of being the center of your attention as you placed stickers and colored in his tattoos or drew silly doodles along his body. He liked the feeling of flexing himself while having you express your inner artist onto him. He'd think of himself as your muse; the art and the artist. Once you were done, he'd be extremely careful with doing activities, afraid of your artwork smudging off at the slightest touch. Even during the shower, he makes sure not to wipe it with full pressure. He considered turning it into an actual tattoo, really. Because it would mean that he'd get to keep something of yours to be a part of him, eternally.
—CHIKA TAKIISHI would let you do his hair as you please. He was one to outright reject the idea of someone touching him, but you – you had the privilege to do as you please to him without him raising a finger to stop you. You had him wrapped around your delicate fingers, his head leaning into your touch as you smoothly ran your hands through his long locks of red that met its ends with yellow. When he saw that you did your hair the same way as his, a flicker of surprise reflected on his eyes. Though he tried to come off as indifferent, he was secretly pleased to acknowledge the fact that the both of you were matching. He'd spend the whole day with you while wearing those matching hairstyles, not caring about how others would think of him. All he could focus on was how ethereal you looked in your current look. In fact, he always thought you looked beautiful in any shape and form of physical aspects.
Tumblr media
498 notes · View notes
remlionheart · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
NSFW Alphabet: Osamu Dazai Edition ♡
♡༊·˚ mdni. ((dedicating this to my pretty gf @bratbby333 since she's the dazai to my chuuya and some of these situations were in inspired by our unhinged 5 hour long facetimes calls, *cough cough* "blood-chilling" *cough cough* ♡)) this was honestly so much fun to write. dazai would be SUCH a diva in a relationship but he would also be so loving and protective ugh. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡༊·˚
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Dazai's almost always the first one out of bed after the fact. He already has a shower running for when he comes back into the room to hand you a towel and a glass of water. You tell him that your legs are too tired to walk all the way to the bathroom so he scoops you up into his arms. The two of you laugh as he carries you into the steam-filled room. He lets you get under the water first, squirting a generous amount of shampoo into his palm as he instructs you to turn around. "Suppose your hands are too tired to wash your hair, hm?" You bite back a smile, giving him a pitiful nod in response. "My poor girl." He hums. His long fingers massaging into your scalp feel like heaven. He leaves light kisses along your shoulder, running a washcloth over your body while whispering sweet little nothings like "How'd I get so lucky?" into your skin as he cleans you off. It's hard to believe this was the same man who was making you beg on your knees for him just twenty minutes ago.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Aside from his body's infuriating aversion to death, there aren't a whole lot of things that Dazai doesn't like about his appearance. Aesthetically speaking, he finds himself fairly attractive so it's hard to narrow down one thing he likes best. If he had to though, he'd probably go with his hands. He's always gotten compliments on them, but after seeing what strong reactions they're able to coax out of you so easily, he's realized they're one of his most valuable assets. As cliche as it may be, your eyes are his favorite feature. He finds it adorable how they always tell him what he needs to know without you ever having to say a word. They tell him when you want more, when you want less, when you're about to hit your breaking point. They guide him in the right direction every single time. Plus, they're just so fucking pretty to look at.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
The only thing more blissful to Dazai than hearing or seeing your orgasm is tasting it. His head is buried between your legs, his fingers pumping in and out of you deliriously as your thighs start to lock around him. You're spasming for him again, your voice breaking as you call out his name and your hips buck up towards him. "Dazai, I can't -" You whine. "'m so... sensitive -" "C'mon baby, please." he groans, "Just one more f’me." his tongue swirls against you with fervor, his digits still greedily plummeting into you. "Lemme taste it, lemme feel it. You’re sooo close." His fingers curl at just the right angle, his tongue faithfully lapping against you as you finally fall apart for him. He moans at the sweetness that spills down his chin. "You taste like fucking ecstasy, you know that?"
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
It's not necessarily a secret because in his defense, if you were to bring it up or ask him about it, he'd tell you the truth. But Dazai can't help it that you've never inquired about his exes and he's certainly not going to offer up the fact that he knows every single person you've ever been with going all the way back to the boy you kissed on the playground when you were 4 years old. Or that he just so happens to know all of their current addresses and their moms’ maiden names and where they work and their social security numbers. I mean, does it even really matter anyway?? He just got a little curious, that’s all!!
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Dazai had been with his fair share of partners before meeting you. Sex wasn't something he was ever shy about. He did a lot of experimenting, especially when he was spending the majority of his time drinking. He's always felt comfortable in his body and never saw the big deal about sharing it with someone. It wasn't until the two of you started dating that he realized just how binding sex could be. That it could transcend well beyond the simplicity of skin against skin contact. Being inside of you was the closest thing he'd ever felt to a religious experience. It felt like coming home after a long day. No matter how many hookups he'd had in the past, there was nothing that could've prepared him for how good you'd feel.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He likes any position that allows him to see your face. His favorite is probably fucking you from the side though, both of you facing each other with his arm hooked under your thigh, letting him go as deep as he pleases. He gets lost in the way your pupils dilate when he plunges into you. The security of your arms wrapped around his neck as you whimper and wriggle against him. There's something so intimate about watching you come undone from this view. Feeling you drench him while he kisses you over and over. "Let it out, baby. I've got you. Doin' so good - fuck, baby you're doin' so good f'me."
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
As passionate as Dazai is when it comes to being inside of you, he's still able to find a level of a humor in just about anything. He's a Gemini, after all. If he's too serious for too long, he'll simply die. You're on top of him with your hands tangled into his for balance as you grind against him. Your hips are rocking back and forth at a pace that's making his breathing uneven. You feel proud, thinking his reaction is a sign of you doing a good job until you watch his head roll to the side, a stupid smile suddenly visible as he tries to bury his face into the pillow. You quickly realize it's not a moan that he's holding back, but a laugh. Your movements come to an abrupt pause. "Dazai." He tries his best to keep it together, but the scolding tone in your voice coupled with the stern look you're shooting him is only making it worse. “Wait, listen -" he tries to explain himself, but he's powerless to his own thoughts. A burst of suppressed laughter fills the room as he covers his face with his hands, still feeling the weight of your glare on him. "R - remember -" he struggles “Last week? When you were telling me about that book you were reading and...." he nearly snorts. "And you described it as -" Your lips press into a flat line, your eyes glazing over as you realize what he’s getting at. You knew the second you messed up that phrase, you'd never hear the end of it. "Are you seriously still laughing about the fact that I said 'blood-chilling' instead of 'bone-chilling?'" "BLOOD-CHILLING!" He repeats with the most obnoxious cackle, narrowly dodging the pillow you throw at him.
H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Dazai spends more time grooming himself than you do. Hours in front of the mirror looking at himself from every angle to make sure what he's done is up to his standards. He's subscribed to one of those manscaping services where they mail him out a surprise bundle each month of new products to try. When you go down on him one night, he asks "...Does it smell like teakwood?" Your head pops up immediately, unsure if you even want to know what he's hinting at. "What?" "Nothing... it's nothing."
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
In love, Dazai worships you. He has every inch of your frame memorized and knows exactly what each tiny movement and whimper mean. He's studied your body like it's his lifelong passion and he's learned how to make it respond so well for him. Your hips just barely buck up while he's on top of you and he smirks, his hair lightly brushing against your forehead. "You sure can handle the whole thing? Figured you'd still be sore after last night." You shake your head back at him with the poutiest expression, your core aching for more. "I can take it." you insist, "I can -" He challenges your sureness, giving you another inch only to see your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your hand gripping onto the sheet above you. He'd never deny you of anything you wanted, but especially not when you looked this gorgeous. He grabs your hand, tangling his fingers into yours before drawing back and burying himself into you. "That's my girl." he groans, reeling in the way your walls so eagerly swallow him. Your breathing is erratic, your composure completely gone as you writhe and clench around him. He knows you're right there. You start to close your eyes, but he stops you, bringing his free hand under your chin to redirect your attention back to him. "Let me see it, angel. Show me." He slams into you again, giving you every inch of him this time. "Show much you love this." And you do. You show him three times in 20 minutes how much you love it.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Dazai's the first to admit that he has a high libido and if the mood strikes, he's going to do something about it. He gets bored easily, so he has a variety of different mediums to get the job done - the 'hidden' folder on his phone that's filled with pictures and videos of you, romance mangas, fleshlights, audio porn, hentai. He's not afraid to experiment even when he's alone.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Dazai is a true switch and will really fall into either being dominant or submissive depending on the situation. There are nights he gets off work and starts throwing out demands like, "On the bed. Now. Legs apart f’me." as he strips out of his jacket and pushes you down further onto the mattress. But, the are other times where he's dying not to be in control anymore. Where he's had to make too many decisions and he revels in the way you take the reins. The way you climb on top of him and whisper "good boy" as he grows hard beneath you. The only thing he loves more than making you beg is begging for you.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Dazai has a bit of a thing for voyeurism and recklessness so when Kunikida hires a driver to pick the two of you up to take you to a dinner for the ADA, Dazai has no hesitation on hiking up your dress in the back of the limo. Peeking up every so often to see if the driver has even noticed the way your tits are pressed up against the window for passing cars to see as your vehicle speeds down the highway. You arch your back perfectly for him, giving him full control as he plunges into you. Your walls are so snug and gushy, he knows he won't last long. But you're enjoying this just as much as he is, playing with your clit as he grabs your hair and pulls you up to kiss him. "You like knowing that people can see me fucking you?" he whispers, biting down on your bottom lip. "Your cunt’s drippin’ alllll over me.” "Fuck - yes.” You moan, feeling your legs beginning to shake as you let out a strained. “I’d let you fuck me anywhere.” His smirk deepens, his thrusts becoming more frantic. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep, angel.”
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Dazai's pretty easy to wind up in general, but he definitely has a thing for asphyxiation. Perhaps it stems from the lingering effects of suicidal ideation, but the feeling of something cutting off his airways makes him feral. When you're on top of him and you reach for his throat, he nearly fucking melts. If he could choose any way to die, he'd request for it to be at the mercy of your loving fingertips digging into the side of his neck.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
There aren't many things that Dazai wouldn't do. Not just sexually, but in general. His curiosity almost always gets the better of him no matter the situation. The only time he's ever told you no was when you were being too hard on yourself. He walked in on you picking at your body in the mirror. Pulling your skin in different directions to see what you'd look like if your arms were thinner or what you'd look like if your nose leaned more to this way instead of that way. His heart sank. All of the post-work fantasies he had built up over the day disappeared the minute he saw how frustrated you were. "Hey," he whispered, coming up behind you and gently wrapping his arms around your waist as his chin rested on your shoulder. "Please stop being mean to my girlfriend. She doesn't deserve that." You tried to brush it off as a joke, leaning up to kiss him while he held you, but he pulled back. "I'm serious." he ran light fingers over your stomach, his eyes locked with yours in the reflection of the mirror. "We're not doing anything until I hear you say at least five things you like about yourself." He could see past almost any crime or murder, but he drew the line at you degrading yourself.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Dazai's all about both, but if he's being completely honest with himself, he loves the feeling of your mouth around his cock. How cute you look when you struggle to take the whole thing. The way your eyes widen when he thrusts into your throat. How thorough you are, turning the act of going down on him into a work of fucking art. Even though you’re the one submitting to him when you get on your knees, he still feels like he's at your grace. You feel so good, he'd do anything to keep your lips wrapped around him.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Just like anything else, pacing could go one way or the other. The thing about Dazai, is he wants to do whatever you want to do. Even when he's in more of a dom role, your pleasure is still his main focus. There's no such thing as wrong time or wrong place as far as he’s concerned. If you wanted him to fuck you slow and sensually in the club bathroom, he would. He'd dim the lights, lock the door, lay his jacket down for you to sit on as he propped you up onto the sink and kissed you passionately. If you wanted fast, rough, filthy sex by candlelight on a bed of roses, he would. He'd wrap his hand around your pretty little throat, mocking the way you're struggling to breathe as he bullied himself into you while you’re surrounded by romantic ambiance. Whatever you want, he does too.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
If there was a tornado approaching your house at a reasonable speed, Dazai would still find time to have a quickie with you. Especially if he thought it was the last thing he might ever do. He wants to feel you as much as he possibly can. The construct of time really means nothing to him. You have to log onto a work meeting in five minutes? "I can fit under the desk, baby :((( they won't even see me. Just spread your legs and keep a straight face, okay?" Your parents are on their way over? "They drive so slow anyway, angel and the door's locked. Promise we won't get caught." You're waiting for food to be delivered? "Bet I could make you cum twice before the doorbell even rings." Getting to spend five minutes in you is always better than spending five minutes out of you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Dazai isn't just willing to take a risk, he's usually the one pushing for it. Any time your phone rings, his hands are suddenly roaming along your body, his fingers dipping into the softness of your underwear as he starts to kiss your neck. He knows you're on the phone with your boss, that makes it even better. He wants to see how long you can keep your composure while he torments you. Your eyes are like daggers when you look back at him, but your cunt betrays you entirely, grinding against him needily while he smirks. He picks up the pace, reeling in the subtle way your thighs shake. You're trying so hard to sound so professional and coherent, but your thoughts are everywhere. You're having to hit the 'mute' button every few seconds just to let out a whimper. Dazai nips at the nape of your neck, slamming into you with an extra finger this time causing you to nearly drop your phone. "Ahh ~!" But there's no time to hit mute with how he's suddenly plunging into you. Your boss asks if you're okay and you have no choice but to hang up. "Dazai -" you try to keep your voice firm, but you can barely see straight the deeper he sinks into you. "What - the... fuck -" Each word is a moan, your hand grabbing desperately onto the collar of his shirt. "Dazai," "Somethin' wrong, baby?" "Dazai, you can't -" But he already is. He already is so bad. "Dazai, please." You're not even sure what you're pleading for anymore - if it's for him to stop or continue. Your walls are squeezing him so tight, your heart slamming into your chest as more uncontrollable whines fill the room. "Dazaaiii ~" you whimper again, soaking his hand as his thumb brushes across your clit. "Ohmygod, fuck. You can't keep doing that." "No promises." He smirks, carefully pulling out of you before bringing his fingers to his mouth. "It's not my fault you taste so good."
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
It all depends on the mood, Dazai's pretty versatile. Could he fuck you for hours? Yes. Has he? Many times. It's no secret that he loves watching you struggle to walk the next day after having your legs pinned against his shoulder. But he knows he can't do that every time. He generally tries to follow your lead and give your body what it wants - whether that's 20 minutes of gentle, deep, intimacy or an hour of a mating press followed by overstimulation. As long as you're getting off, so is he.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
His nightstand is filled with an assortment of silicone stimulants for the two of you. Cockrings and vibrators and bondage kits. Out of all of the subscription services he has, getting a bundle of mystery toys delivered to his house each month is by far his favorite. He always waits 'til you come over to open it. Pouring you both a glass of wine as you divvy them out and argue about decide on who gets to use what on who.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Osamu Dazai lives to tease you. As far as he's concerned, the only reason the sun rises each morning is so that he can find new and exciting ways to make you grovel for him. He'll tie your hands together above your head, slowly unzipping his pants in front of you. Forcing you to watch as he strokes himself above you, groaning out lewd little nothings like, "Oh fuck, 'feels soo good." while he smirks at your pouty little face and the way you begin to squirm underneath him impatiently. “See how hard I am? God, just imagine what it'd feel like inside you." His hand pumping uppp and doownnnn tortuously out of reach. "Tell me baby, would you want me to go hard and fast or reeaall slow and deep?" He fucking moans while you writhe helplessly against the mattress, your neglected cunt throbbing. "Dazai, please." "Poor thing." He mocks, still jerking himself to the sight of you looking up at him with pleading eyes. "You can do better than that though, can’t you angel? C'mon, make me believe you.”
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
There's no denying that Dazai's loud. You make him feel so fucking good and he wants you to know. He'll have a fistful of your hair, groaning out your name while your tongue swirls around his tip. "Fuuuck.” He whimpers. "Oh - my… god." Tiny hearts cloud his vision as he watches your throat fill with his length, the heavenly sounds of you gagging on him echoing across the room. Your eyes gloss over, spit pooling down your chin when you look back up at him, your tongue still pressed firmly against his base. "S'fucking gorgeous when you suck my cock." His praise only make you go faster, drawing out the prettiest whines from him. "Nnngh ~ don't stop, baby.” His grip tightens in your hair. "Don't. Fucking. Stop." His hips buck up with each syllable, his rhythm unrelenting as lecherous tears begin to spill down your cheeks. You keep going though, drowning in the noises he's making for you. "Right there, right there. 'm gonna - oh fuck. 'm -" You feel him twitch inside your mouth before a flood of warmth suddenly coats your throat. "Swallow f'me, angel." his voice is so heady and delirious, it comes out as more of a beg than a command, "Fuck... Yeah. Just like that, mmm, god, just like that." You take it all in, not letting one drop go to waste. "You're sucha good girl, you know that? Sucha good fucking girl."
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Dazai gives the illusion that he's not jealous. That it doesn't bother him in the slightest when you go out with your friends or when you stay at the gym longer than you said you would. He does trust you - completely, actually. He knows you'd never do anything to jeopardize your relationship with him. It’s the outside world he doesn't trust. When you're driving home from work, he's watching you through the location sharing on your phone. He stares at the screen intently until he hears you pull into the driveway. When you’re at the bar, he knows the importance of girls’ time and he’d never spoil that. He simply wants to make sure no one is bothering you. He shows up, stealthily lingering in the background, watching his pretty girl laugh with her friends and dance with a drink in her hand the way she should. He loves seeing you have fun, he doesn’t want to take that away from you. He just follows behind your Uber to make sure the driver gets you to where you're going safely. He's seen too many tragedies between working for the PM and ADA, he can't take the risk of letting anything happen to you. So, he doesn't. There's absolutely nothing off limits to you. The entire world is yours. You just... might see a man in a suspicious looking jacket that bears an eerie resemblance to your boyfriend trailing behind you from time to time while you're out. It's only because he loves you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Standing at a solid 5'11, Dazai's decently tall and slender - surprisingly muscular underneath all of those bandages. His waistline is so pretty and his hands? God, those long beautiful digits have brought you to your breaking point more than a few times. Besides excelling in dexterity, he's also packing. A perfect blend of length and girth that curves ever-so-slightly as if it was made for the sole purpose of hitting your g-spot.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Dazai would bend you over in in front of the Pope if you'd let him. He's unapologetically ready to go at any time. He can't help that you're just so gorgeous and that his eyes are always glued to the way your hips sway when you walk in front of him. He yearns for you constantly, even when you're not around. If he could have a 10-hour loop of you moaning his name that's what he'd use as white noise to fall asleep to each night. He can't help that his dick twitches at the thought of you. It's not his fault you're so pretty :((((
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Rest has never come easy for Dazai. He's tried every natural (and narcotic) sleep aide he could get his hands on. Put down multiple bottles of Pinot Grigio and still found himself up for days on end. Up until he met you, he didn't think it was possible for him to sleep for more than two hours at a time, but the first time you invited him over to your apartment changed everything. The two of you had been talking for hours - laughing and debating and sharing secrets over a bottle of cherry whiskey. He could've stayed up long past sunrise with you but when he noticed how tired your eyes were getting, he offered to take you to bed instead. Both of you stripped down into lazy pajamas. You, in an oversized t-shirt with nothing underneath. Dazai, in his boxers. You looked so peaceful when your head hit the pillow, he was sure that you'd be out soon, but to his surprise, your body had other plans. Your lips were soft against his, your hands gently roamed along his body as you pulled him on top of you. You smiled at the way his hair tickled your forehead. The sun was just barely creeping through your curtains, grazing your face as he slid into you, highlighting the pleasure that had taken over your features. It was all so hazy and comfortable. Your room filled with heady mid-morning noises while his body thrusted generously into yours. There was something so intimate about it that it nearly brought you to tears. You felt full in every sense of the word. When you were both good and spent, the two of you laid in the middle of your bed with your head nestled into his chest. He played with your hair, watching you fall asleep in his arms. He'd never felt more human than he did in that moment. His eyes closed, his mind turning off for what felt like the first time in years as he drifted off with you.
ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ
‎♡‧₊˚ here's chuuya's version if you're new here ‎♡‧₊˚
2K notes · View notes
saeun · 3 months ago
Text
ꪆ୧ ── HUSH-HUSH ┊ KEEP IT A SECRET ﹑ JJK ⤿ starring: g. satoru ◟ choso ◟ sukuna ◟ f. toji.
꒰ love simulation ﹢ headcanon-type · most to least likely to keep your relationship a secret!
𖧷 · love, ‘su: i have nothing to say here but I Need To have this here for layout purposes. it Bothers me if its not there.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
most likely 𓂃 can hold themselves back. choso and somewhat toji.
( pda = public display affection. )
listen, CHOSO can keep a secret, but leave it up to him and he would've made it known you two were dating. he's only keeping it a secret because you said to. when it comes to you, everyone knows he never questions your words.
in terms of pda . . . he doesn't do it — actually, he does, but only you know the true meaning to his touch. it's a regular thing to have an arm wrapped around your friend's shoulder, standing close to them, blah blah blah. you get the point: he keeps it entirely friendly.
this doesn't mean he's not clinging onto you the moment your peers aren't around! once they're out of his view, choso will not waste time to satisfy the itch he's been feeling. either he buries his head in your shoulder, whining about not being able to touch you at least, or his hands are intertwined with yours.
in mr. TOJI FUSHIGURO's case, your words are law. he usually sits back and let you do as you please — obviously he'd go along with whatever scheme you planned. he doesn't mind keeping to himself at all; he's not one for much pda anyway.
there are times where he gets touchy, though. he tries to keep it at a minimum, but don't let him be near you during a dinner-out with friends or anything of the sort. if he's seated next to you, trust, his hand will find comfort sitting on your thigh, occasionally squeezing here and there.
sometimes — really rare times — his friends suspect him. they don't reach the “are you dating y/n?” conclusion, but do they reach the “you got a thing for y/n or what?” one. it's all due to the fact that he softens his language with you. he doesn't curse, tone lowers an octave, and has a slight smile. three things his friends will never experience. he doesn't deny it, but he also doesn't confirm; he simply shrugs at their questions and never satisfies their curiosity.
least likely 𓂃 sorry, he's a bit selfish. satoru and sukuna.
SATORU . . . yeah, no. there's no way he would've succeeded. that's like asking him to not breathe for a day. when you brought up the idea of keeping the relationship a secret, he tried talking you out of it. why are you denying publicizing his affection for you? you must hate him, or are you hiding the fact that you're taken? satoru's dramatic, and his favourite literary device is hyperbole. he will exaggerate.
at first he tries his best to keep it a secret, but old habits die hard. calling you names clearly reserved for someone's romantic partner, arm snaked around your waist all the time, glaring at anyone who tries to flirt, giving you quick kisses — yeah, no way.
but, satoru does apologize for failing to obey! if you're mad at him for outing the relationship, he'll spend days upon days begging for forgiveness in creative ways til you accept his apology.
SUKUNA does not give a fuck. he's lived long enough to not care about secrecy. it's cute that you want to keep it on the low, but he prefers letting it known. pair that with him disliking physical contact with anyone else and you've got yourself the perfect recipe for disaster.
whenever he's not with you and someone approaches him — no matter the reason — he's quick to ring up his favourite sentence: yeah no, i'm taken. either that, or he's holding his palm up to reject them. he does not wish to engage with strangers. even his own friends struggle to get him out.
when he's with you, however, he's clinging to you like a magnet. game night with friends/family? he's pulling you to lean on him, doesn't fetch drinks for anyone but you, gets revenge for you if you lost the game, demands that they “go easy on y/n.” the list goes on. it took everyone zero time to put the clues together and figure out sukuna and you are a thing. it's entirely out-of-character for him to be nice in the first place.
Tumblr media
696 notes · View notes
shalfeis · 19 days ago
Text
hsr characters as your pets, namely cats. I hope you enjoy it. I apologize for the possible ooc.
reader x dan heng, caelus, phainon (separately)
Tumblr media
Dan Heng
A very calm and non-confrontational cat. Gets along well with other pets, if they are in your house.
Not picky about food, but still prefers your cooking. If you feed him something delicious, you can hear him purring softly.
Unlike many other cats, he is not afraid of water. On the contrary, he willingly goes into the water if it is cool or warm. He calmly waits until all the spa treatments are completed, which makes your job much easier.
He's not the most talkative, affectionate and active cat in the world, but he always responds when you call him. He always listens attentively to you when you're talking enthusiastically. And at night he likes to lie down on your feet, warm them and purr softly.
If you're sad, in pain, or crying, he'll try to comfort you by rubbing against you, purring, and snuggling up to you. Needless to say, it more than helps?
You often lose some small things, such as keys, and somehow he always finds them and brings them to you. You don't understand how he does it, but it's still very nice.
As for outsiders, he doesn't particularly like them coming. He reacts calmly to them, but always stays away. For example, he's sitting on the couch and watching a new person in your house.
It is not strongly attached to its habitat, it is more attached to its owner, that is, to you. He'll miss the old house, of course, but he's also not against moving. He even shows interest in his new place of residence.
He loves you very much, just like you love him. You thank everyone you can for getting such a good friend and pet.
Tumblr media
Caelus
And this is not a cat, but a disaster. Unlike Dan Heng, he is very active and constantly gets into some strange situations. He definitely has a talent for it.
He's certainly not picky about food, he'll eat anything you give him. Sometimes it seems to you that he has a black hole instead of a stomach, because how the hell does he fit so much and he's still hungry??
He's not afraid of water either, but you should be patient, because you won't be able to do spa treatments in peace. As already mentioned, he's very active, so you need to keep him occupied so that he doesn't think to leave the bath in the middle of the procedure. That already was, and you were ready to kill him.
Very talkative. It doesn't matter if you're busy with something or not, he'll say whatever he thinks. But if he's quiet and you can't hear him, then this can only mean two options. First, he's done something wrong and is trying to cover up the crime. The second one, he's not feeling well.
He is also very playful. You have a lot of different toys at home. But for some reason, the box and the packages are his favorites.
This kid is like ginger cats, you'll never guess what came into his head. At first he may purr and caress, and the next moment he wakes up in him the desire to bite you. Or he suddenly attacks you from around the corner when you least expect it.
Nevertheless, at night he likes to lie down next to you and purr like a tractor. And loudly. But somehow it's like white noise to you, and it's hard to fall asleep without it.
He immediately notices when you feel bad. He may not be very good at comforting, but the fact that he's trying to cheer you up, albeit clumsily, makes you feel better.
If Dan Heng is the one who finds your lost things, then Caelus is the one who gets your things lost. You find them in the most unexpected places. How did he even manage to hide the TV remote in the cupboard??
He is interested in every new visitor to your house. He won't be as affectionate and talkative with them as he is with you, but he won't stay away either. He will look at a person with interest and, for example, touch him with his paw or, if he likes a person, play with him.
Wherever you go, he will always be curious. He will actively explore new territory and get to know the world around him. He looks so cute in those moments, he's like a child.
Even though he's a walking disaster and often gets on your nerves, he's still very attached to you and loves you very much. He's not perfect, but that's why you love him.
Tumblr media
Phainon
And here we are, have the perfect balance. Quite calm, but quite playful at the same time. Gets along well with other pets. And he doesn't give you any problems.
He's not picky about food, but like Dan Heng, he prefers your cooking more. He purrs softly if the food is really delicious.
He is very willing to go into the water. You can tell by his whole appearance that he enjoys spa treatments. That's why he always smells delicious and his coat is shiny.
As already mentioned, although he's calm, he doesn't mind playing either. You have several toys that he likes to play with.
He's a walking anti-stress guy, not a cat. It's enough for him to meow a couple of times, purr and settle on your feet, and your stress and fatigue go away instantly. At night, you sleep soundly with him in your arms. He purrs softly so as not to wake you up, and warms you up. Dream.
He's your little helper. He finds lost items even before you realize that you've lost something somewhere in the house, and brings them to you. You're very interested in how he does it. Or he calls you when you ask for it. For example, if you ask him to call you when the water starts to boil, he will actually call you. Sometimes it seems to you that there is a person in the body of a cat next to you, and not an ordinary cat.
When you're working, he either sits next to you or on your lap, waiting for you to finish your work. Needless to say, how does it add motivation to finish everything as quickly as possible?
Not to say that he's against strangers in your home. He won't shy away from them, but he won't fawn over them either. His affection belongs only to you. He will sit next to you and calmly look at the guest.
The change of location scares him a little, but he tries not to show it. While you're around, he's exploring a new area with interest and caution. He looks so cute that you can't resist taking a few photos.
Anyway, you have a whole photo album with him. He's too photogenic and handsome, there's nothing you can do about it. And it doesn't look like he's against it.
He's very attached to you and loves you very much. You feel the same way, so there's an idyll in your house. You don't even need a boyfriend with a cat like that.
331 notes · View notes
idkdudethisisntpermanent · 4 months ago
Text
Over the Limit
jenna ortega x female reader
part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: In a town divided between two rival street racing crews, you’re caught between your cousin’s crew, the Sinners and Jenna, a mysterious girl from the Vipers who’s more than just a pretty face. Both of you need something from each other, but as the stakes rise, you’re left wondering: what makes your heart race more— the thrill of the competition or the girl who’s impossible to ignore?
word count: 6.7k
A very special thank you to @ortegalvr for giving me the very much needed nudge to start moving my work to Tumblr. And to @cobaltperun for being so patient and thoroughly answering all my questions, essentially giving me (a Tumblr noob) a dummies guide to Tumblr. Appreciate you both!
————
Why is it that some of the best feel goods in life can just as easily kill you if you indulge in it too much?
Alcohol, drugs, illegal driving... love?
Fortunately for you, you only indulge in only one of those.
There's just something so satisfying about watching your car pick up speed; watching the little arm on the speed gauge reach it's full potential.  If cars are able to reach those speeds then they should, it's a fact of the matter.  And when you're surrounded by cars all your life and the only reason you have a livelihood is because of those three thousand pounds of steel, you're bound to make some fun out of it.
You push down on the accelerator with more pressure, reaching speeds of almost 180 km/hour when you see the flashing blue and red lights in the rear view mirror.
The feds.
"Took them longer than usual." you thought out loud.
Now there could be two reasons they're after you. The obvious, speeding.  But then there's also the fact that you stole the beauty you're driving from the town's richest neighbourhood, Summer Valley.
Of course stealing it is not enough for you, so you made some tweaks here and there in the garage so this ride could be even more illegal than it already is, and now you're selling it to an off the grid buyer.
Escaping the police wasn't something new, it's become routinely. You'd be more concerned if the cops weren't on your tail during a delivery.
You make a sharp turn right into a short alleyway marking the start of this high speed chase.
Being the exceptional mechanic that you are, your work on this car has given it a larger than usual turn radius which allowed the turn to be much smoother, giving you a good head start.
"Why are these fuckers in the middle of road!" You yelled panickily, upon seeing the herd of people in front of you.
You don't know when people decided to ditch the sidewalks and walk in the middle of the road, but clearly, you missed the memo.  You were forced to sound the horn a few times, and luckily the pedestrians were responsive and didn't cause you to lose your lead on the cop, but it may have alerted them—if you were lucky enough to lose them in the first place.
Once you finally got out of the alleyway, your phone started ringing, stealing your focus from the dark road in front of you to glance down at your phone for a millisecond.
Anton. Your cousin.
Anton Y/l/n. Your older cousin of three years. He was an impulsive firecracker that has the tendency to rope you into his shenanigans, not deliberately of course.  Despite his flaws he'd do anything for family. You like to joke around and call him Dom Toretto, and those jokes have only gotten worse after he buzzed his head after an unfortunate grease spillage accident that was entirely his and your fault.
That five letter name is the most anxiety inducing noun known to man in your books and everytime you answer the older guy's call, you feel as if your gambling your mental health.  He could either be calling to tell you about a huge car gig that he scored for you both or that he owes a million dollar debt.
You legit never know.
You groan and answer the call, putting it on speaker and tossing the phone to the passenger seat.
"What now?" you yell over the sounds of acceleration and police sirens.
"Come to Chester and Dan's lane." He says straight to the point, not questioning the noises he hears on your end of the phone. "After your delivery of course." At this point he's used to his little cousin getting chased down by the cops too.
"What's happening at Chester and Dan?" You ask looking at the side view mirror, squinting at the piercing blue and red flashes.
"Sinners are doing a couple rounds before the big race tomorrow. Join us, it'll be fun."
You sigh at your cousin's billionth attempt to get you acquainted with the Sinners. He's been trying ever since he first started as a general member of the club to now, the leader of the street race club.
"We'll see, I'm kind of in the middle of something," you shout over the sound of the tires screeching from a sharp turn you just made.
"Ugh! I'm not gullible like the other fucks in your life. Don't 'we'll see' me thinking it'll keep me satisfied and off your back for a while."
"I'm busy."
"Just step on the gas you pussy, going past two hundred won't kill you."
With a roll of your eyes, you think that you've entertained Anton's wishes enough and hung up the phone with the determination to lose the cops and deliver the 1969 Ford Mustang you're driving in one piece.
Twenty minutes later, a handful full of sharp turns later and momentarily stopping to let a group of duckling cross the street, you were finally at your destination.
"Car looks good to me," the off the grid buyer who introduced himself as John said with an approving nod after surveying the vintage black vehicle for quite some time.
You let out a breath.  You've made your fair share of deliveries over the years, and just like Anton's calls, you never know the type of customer you're gonna get.
Some customers complain about the price of parts, or a scratch on the car that doesn't exist or they go back on their word and attempt to haggle the price to something ridiculous.
"Nice work kid," John says handing you the promised amount you both settled on a couple weeks prior.  You didn't have to count the stash of cash to know that all of it was there.
"Finally," you sigh, smiling at the wad of cash in your hands and running your thumb along the bills, walking towards the direction of home.
Suddenly a car pulls up. "Give me the cash or give me your life. Your choice." Before you can register the words, you're met with the barrel of a pistol pointed at you through an unrolled passenger side window.
You knew you weren't a fighter nor were you confrontational. Even though you grew up in the tougher parts of the town, your brain is what got you out of your predicaments. If you were a fighter you wouldn't be spending your life stealing, fixing and selling cars.
Laughter interrupted you from handing over the cash.  Confused, you focus on the face holding the glock, and all previous thoughts disappeared and was now replaced with relief and anger.
"What the fuck Anton!" you angrily say, hopping into the passenger seat of the car next to your laughing cousin.
You knew better than to question the fact that your cousin had a gun. When you're the leader of a street race club, you need protection. Especially when all the other club owners own a gun, and fights always break out.
"You should've seen your face," he slips out in his fit of laughter, beginning to drive off as his cousin settles in his car.
"I thought you were street smart, you know better than to walk around this time flaunting your cash."
"I can handle myself, but yeah I should've been more careful. I was just a little excited finally getting paid," You admit, recalling the rut you've recently been in and the struggles you and your mother have recently been facing to make ends meet.
Anton acknowledges the response, "You know you could always ask me for help?
"My mom wouldn't take it."
Anton let's out a loud sigh, "No offense dude, but I don't get your mom's deal.  She acts as if I'm the reason our dads are dead."
You wince at the mention of your dead fathers.  Sometimes you wonder how Anton could talk about this stuff so easily.  "You just resemble Uncle so much, and to be fair you are following the same path as him."
Anton's father and yours, who were brothers, founded the Sinner's Race Club.  Anton's dad had always been your father's right-hand man in races, often riding in the passenger seat.  During a high-stakes race meant to settle a territory dispute, the brakes on your father's car failed, and both men were pronounced dead at the scene.
Since then, your mom understandably kept you away from cars, Anton, and anything related to the race club. She forbade you from getting a driver's license and doesn't even know you have one. Hiding it wasn't difficult, though, given that your family has more pressing expenses than a car.
"Alright, we're here," Your cousin announces, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I still think you should show up tomorrow. Sleep on it."
You step out of the car, once Anton puts the money you made from your sale in a spare backpack he had. So your mom wouldn't ask questions.
"How was your shift?" your mom asks from the couch as you walk through the door.
"Fine, just sore from lifting all those boxes," you lie smoothly.
"Hmm, get to bed early tonight."
As you head toward your room, her voice calls out again. "Oh, and Y/n," she says, making you turn back. "That better not have been Anton dropping you off."
You stay silent and head to bed, unsure of what tomorrow will bring.
————
"How the hell does your mom not catch on? She really thinks some warehouse gig's got you pullin' in forty grand at a time?"
You wipe the sweat of your brow, while you grab a car wrench. "She doesn't know I make that much, I help pay the rent and get food on our table. The rest I save."
"Smart. So, what's the big plan? Get outta Brimstone? Buy yourself a mansion in Summer Valley?" Mason sneers condescendingly.
This morning, you woke up to a text from Anton that convinced you to at least help prep the cars for tonight's big race, even if you don't plan on showing up. Now, you find yourself at the Brimstone Sinner's garage, the garage where you do your car modifications which sits at the edge of Sinner territory.
The place is buzzing with other club members scattered around, working on various cars. You, Anton, and—unfortunately—Mason, a friend of Anton's, who somehow wormed his way into the conversation, are huddled by the main cars, making sure they're in prime condition for the race.
"Ay! Stop distracting my best mechanic!" Anton shouts over the hood of the car to Mason.
Before you knew it you were rolling under the car via the creeper to work on the underside of the car. As you were finishing up you suddenly heard the garage go dead silent, but you didn't know why since your view was limited.
You hear Anton break the silence, "You got some fucking nerve walking into my garage asshat."
As you were lying on your back you could see about one foot from the ground up. You couldn't see who it was, but you could tell where they were from. The grey Dior dunks paired with the most unfashionable pants ever told you everything you needed to know.
Someone from Summer Valley is here.
Then came the laugh. That short, arrogant chuckle, the kind that practically exhaled wealth. Privilege. The very thing you despised.
"Just wanted to see you pussies before you lose all your dignity—oh and your garage. I'm already imagining what I'm gonna do with the place," the voice laughs again.
The conversation around you fades as your mind fixates on a single phrase. Lose the garage? Your hand curls into a tight fist, knuckles turning white. Did your dumbass cousin actually gamble the garage for tonight's race?
You try to focus your hearing, trying to see if anyone else is upset by the fact. But it's silent, they're unfazed, indifferent to the fact that Anton—the club's supposed leader—might have just wagered the club's most valuable asset. Property. You let out a sharp exhale. This is exactly what you couldn't stand about racers. They're all thrill-seeking junkies who only care about going fast. Does no one else here realize the gravity of losing this garage?
Anton snaps you back to reality. "Percy you ain't riding tonight if you're dead. Now get the fuck out before you catch a bullet."
Percy.
Leader of the Summer Valley Vipers. Just another privileged trust fund brat, bored one summer, who saw that the kids on the wrong side of the tracks had a race club and wanted in. So formed his own club. For the Vipers, racing was a hobby. For anyone from Brimstone? It was survival.
Once the obnoxious figure in those ridiculous pants left the garage, you rolled out from under the car, wiping grease from your hands. A quick glance around told you that everyone had already returned to their tasks, like the tense exchange with the Viper hadn't even happened.
Jaw clenched, you stomped over to Anton and gave him a firm nudge—just hard enough to make your frustration clear. "What the hell, Ant?"
Anton, mid-conversation with Madison—one of the club's members—turned to face you, exhaling a cloud of smoke. His brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"
"What? Seriously?" you snap. "What was Pissy going on about, losing the garage?"
He let out a long, drawn-out sigh before flicking the ash off his cigarette. "Relax, Y/n. It's just to raise the stakes, nothing serious."
"Nothing serious?" you say, mirroring his words once again. "This is my fucking livelihood, I can't live without this garage Ant? Where else am I going to fix cars?!"
Anton calmy takes one last drag, puts out his cigarette, and gestures for you to follow him outside of the garage, away from the rest of the club members.
Once you were outside Anton wasted no time in getting to the point.
"I'm only gonna say this once, Y/n. Don't ever talk to me like that in front of my people again. I run this crew."
His gaze softened slightly as he added, "I know we're family, but out here, I gotta be their leader. You get me?"
You nod understanding the politics of running a club like this. It wasn't simple and it wasn't like Anton was being rude to you.
"Now kid, listen to me very closely." Anton starts, his eyes narrowing, words firm.
You hated when he called you "kid," and Anton damn well knew it.  He was only three years older, but you decided to bite your tongue this time, sensing he had something important to say.
"You don't take risks," he said, his voice steady.
You opened your mouth to cut him off, but he quickly held up a hand, his words rushing out before you could get a word in. "—hold on, let me finish! I know you think stealing cars, making illegal mods, and dodging the feds is risky—and yeah, it is... for most people. But not for you. You're too good at it. It's not a risk when you know you're always gonna pull it off. You're in your comfort zone. You don't even flinch anymore."
You crossed your arms, shaking your head. "I don't need the gamble, Ant. Why would I put myself in a position to lose something—everything?"
"But why wouldn't you?" Anton fires back passionately.
For a moment neither of you say anything.
"That's the problem, Y/n," he said finally, his voice low. "You don't take real risks anymore because you're afraid to lose. But sometimes... you gotta lose something to really win. You know what I'm saying?"
You frowned, not fully understanding. "What's that even supposed to mean? I'm not trying to play some high-stakes game just for the thrill of it."
"That's not what I'm talking about, kid. I'm saying there's more to life than just getting by. You can't just keep doing the same shit because it's easy and familiar.  You gotta challenge yourself, push yourself outta that comfort zone. That's where the real reward is."
You shifted uncomfortably, not liking where the conversation was headed. "So what, you want me to throw myself into danger for no reason? What are you really getting at, Ant?"
His gaze stayed steady, not backing down. "I'm talking about the garage. Everything we've built. If you keep playing it safe, we'll stay small. But if we take some risks?  We could grow this into something huge, we could run the city, Y/n."
His words hung in the air, heavy. You hesitated, feeling the pressure. "And what's the catch?"
A slow smirk crept onto his face as he leaned in. "The catch is, we go all in, or we lose it all."
Your head shook slightly, confused and uneasy. Anton sounded insane right now, with all this talk of taking over the city. "I don't know," you muttered, your voice wavering.
"I'm not saying you have to. Maybe this," he said, gesturing around the garage and the cars. "...isn't your thing, and that's fine. But you've got to find what is. What's your purpose, your drive Y/n/n? What makes your heart race? What's worth risking everything for?"
————
"Just get home safe, and grab me a pack of cigarettes on your way," your mom says, her tone casual.  You exhale, relieved she let you leave without too many questions.
After your talk with Anton, and spending hours tuning up cars for the race, you head home, but your mind lingers on what your cousin said earlier.  His words hit deeper than you care to admit—he was right.  You've been stuck in your comfort zone for far too long, and you can't even remember the last time you did something that pushed your boundaries.
So, here you are, lying to your mom about getting called in for a late night shift when in reality, you're on your way to the race between the Sinners and Vipers.
Anton was practically beaming when you told him you were finally coming to the race.  He couldn't wait to give you a ride to the track.
"Took me, what—six years?  Finally got you to show up," Anton shakes his head, laughing as you slide into the passenger seat.
You ignore his teasing, cutting straight to the point.  "You nervous?"
"Nah, fuck no. Pussy's a trash driver—he's got nothing on me."
Your eyes widen.  "Wait, this is a title race?"
You didn't realize the leaders of both clubs were squaring off tonight.  A title race meant more than bragging rights—both sides were gambling big, this race could mean life or death for both clubs.
You were about to ask what else Anton had on the line besides the garage, but the car suddenly surged forward, the burst of speed nearly throwing you out of your seat.
"What the hell! Slow down!" you shout, gripping the armrest tightly.
"Relax, I'm not even hitting two hundred yet—"
The older driver begins to roll his windows up, a sign that he wants to go even faster. The world outside blurred as the engine roared, drowning out the sound of your pulse hammering in your ears.
"Anton. Stop." Your voice is steady, firmer than ever leaving no room for argument.
The driver sighs, gradually slowing the car down to legal road limits.  "You need to get over it eventually Y/n."
Those were the last words said for the remainder of the ride, you didn't want to argue with your cousin before he has one of the biggest races of his life. He knew why you were antsy with the going beyond a certain speed limit. He knew. Of course, he knew. The crash. The speed. The helplessness you felt back then. You gritted your teeth, willing yourself not to dwell on it, not to bring it up again.
You finally pull into the track, and your eyes widen in awe. It's like you were stepping onto the movie set of Fast and Furious. The area is packed with custom cars, their paint jobs gleaming under the glow of neon lights and street lamps, unique to fit the personality of each driver. Engines roar and rev, filling the air with a pulse that matches the energy of the crowd. People are everywhere—leaning against cars, laughing, shouting over the music blasting from speakers.
The race course itself stretches down a wide, abandoned road, littered with warehouses and graffiti-covered walls. Smoke drifts in the air from burning rubber, and the smell of gasoline is thick. You can feel the intensity of the competition buzzing in the air. This wasn't just a race—it was a spectacle, alive with adrenaline and danger.
Anton slowly turns into beneath a large abandoned overpass that you've often heard was a hotspot for racers and ragers. You pan your eyes across the windshield and immediately spot the rival race crews: a sea of black jackets to the right and a wall of red to the left, each group eyeing each other with the tension only moments from snapping.
You were so caught up in the moment you didn't even notice Anton turn the volume up as he played I Don't Fuck with You by Big Sean while rolling past the Viper's crew. Typical Anton—always stirring the pot. The Vipers glared but didn't act, clearly aware of who you were. You both look at each other and laugh as you join the rest of your crew a bit further into the underpass.
As your cousin parks the car he grabs something from the back seat and tosses it onto your lap—a black leather jacket.
You stared at it for a moment.  The design was unmistakable. A large, detailed skull with flames rising behind it, symbolizing both danger and speed. The club's name, Sinners, arched above the skull in bold gothic, tattoo-style font. The club your father founded. The legacy you never wanted.
Your chest tightened as you ran your fingers over the smooth leather. Putting it on would be more than just an outfit choice—it would be an open declaration of association. Your mom would kill you if she ever found out.
Sensing your hesitation, Anton laughed. "Relax, I can see the steam coming out of your head from here. You don't have to wear it, alright? Just throw it over your shoulder or something. People need to know who you're with, that's all."
With that, you both stepped out of the car, and the cheers erupted. They were loud, wild, and unmistakably for Anton—he was their leader. But as the energy surged through the crowd, you couldn't help but wonder if a few of those cheers were meant for you. After all, it was your first time showing up to a race.
As you slipped into the crowd, a few familiar faces greeted you with nods and casual grins, clearly surprised to see you here.  You exchanged small talk with some of the members, their conversations a mix of race gossip, bets, and tales of past victories. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, but as the minutes ticked by, you felt the need to break away, the noise and energy overwhelming you.
Stepping out from the cluster of people, you wandered toward the edge of the underpass, taking in the scene.  The place was massive—graffiti-streaked pillars towering above, just like the one you were leaning against.
You took this moment to observe the Vipers. You've always had the displeasure of seeing the odd one or two while you were out doing your runs, but this is the first time you've seen the entire crew together. Your eyes land on a certain member. Percy. The only one that had a leader patch on the right sleeve of his jacket, an absurd attempt to assert dominance. You laugh at how lame this guy is. Anton exudes leader, he didn't need a patch on his sleeve reminding everyone he is one.
As you continue making your observations about the Vipers, from the corner of your eye, you noticed movement—someone else seeking the same kind of quiet as you. You glanced over, and there she was, leaning against the opposite side of the same pillar as you. The roar of engines and the blaring music made it easy to miss each other until now.
She was alone, her red jacket slung casually over her arm, a cigarette between her fingers. The contrast of her dark hair against the dim lighting made her stand out even more, and for a moment, she hadn't noticed you.
You tried not to stare, but there was something magnetic about her presence—like the calm before a storm. She flicked her eyes in your direction and froze, her gaze locking onto yours as if she wasn't expecting company either.
She glanced up at the black jacket draped over your shoulder, then at her own red one, casually slung over her arm. With a raised eyebrow and a playful smirk, she broke the silence.
"Guess neither of us is feeling the uniform tonight, huh?" she said, flicking ash from her cigarette, her voice low and surprisingly soft.
Of course her voice had to be the sexiest thing you've ever heard. You remained silent, not because you wanted to, but you didn't know how to respond. This is the first time you've ever spoken to a Viper—a hot Viper at that. You didn't know how to interact with a pretty girl, let alone someone who should be your sworn rival.
"Didn't think anyone else would find this spot," she sighs, not sure if she was saying it to you or outloud to herself.
You pushed off the pillar slightly, offering a small shrug. "Needed a breather."
She smirked, exhaling smoke slowly. "Yeah? Thought you Sinners thrived on chaos."
You glanced at the jacket hanging over your shoulder, then back at her. "Guess I'm not like the others." You weren't going to explain to a stranger that you technically aren't a Sinner but you also are.
She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Clearly." There was a pause, then she gave you a once-over, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "So, what's a Sinner doing hiding out here, away from the action?"
You crossed your arms, feeling the pull of the conversation. "Could ask you the same thing. Vipers don't usually stray from their pack."
She let out a soft laugh, the sound almost lost in the night air. "Maybe I needed a break from all the posturing. You know how it is."
Posturing. What an interesting way to put it you thought to yourself. She wasn't wrong,  but it was an oddly honest thing to bring up barely thirty seconds into the conversation. As intrigued as you are, you're also cautious.
You glanced her over in return, taking in her outfit—black combat boots, short black shorts, and a plain white tee, almost identical to the one you were wearing. It was shocking to see a girl from Summer Valley dressed so simply. But the simplicity suited her. She didn't need to be extravagant to stand out, if it wasn't for the jacket on her arm, you would've totally mistaken her for a flag girl, the ones who countdown the race. You've always heard that they're the most beautiful girls on the track, but clearly it wasn't the case tonight.
Your eyes met again, and something unspoken hung in the air between you. Two people from rival crews, both stepping away from the world that defined them.
She held your gaze. You didn't know what it was behind those intense brown eyes. Hatred, curiosity, attraction, a cry for help? You couldn't tell, but you also didn't want to define it. Defining it may mean having to look away. And you didn't want that.  Maybe she didn't either, you doubt she would force herself to stay here with you if she didn't want to.
The universe however, had other plans. The voice of one of the flag girls crackled through the megaphone, cutting through the tension. "The big day is finally here!" The rest of her corny speech faded into the background as your focus remained on the girl in front of you.  She tore her eyes from yours, sighed, and glanced back at her club.
"I have to go.  See you around, Greaser."
"Greaser?" you echoed, raising a brow.
She smirked, giving you a slow, deliberate once-over before turning away.
As much as you wanted to watch her walk away, curiosity tugged at you, pulling your gaze down.  You glanced at yourself and chuckled softly—faded blue jeans, white tee, and a black leather jacket.  Yeah, you did kind of look like a greaser tonight.
But then you saw it.  A grease stain on your shirt.  You chuckled softly. So that's why.
You decided it was time to head back to your group. You return a bit more upbeat than when you'd left. As you approached, you noticed Anton climbing into the car you'd been working on earlier with the crew gathered around, wishing him luck before the race. That's when he spotted you at the edge of the crowd and waved you over. The group parted, and soon you were standing face to face with Anton.
"You look happy. Having fun?" he shouted over the roar of his engine and Percy's nearby.
"It's been pretty cool," you replied with a shrug, nodding along—though it wasn't the race itself you were enjoying, but who it had brought here.
Anton hummed in approval before dapping you up and pulling you into a quick hug. "I'll see you in a bit," he grinned, hyping up his team one last time before sliding into the driver's seat, Mason settling into the passenger side.
As Anton shut his door, your eyes drifted to the car next to his. You watched Percy with his crew, their energy almost a mirror of your own. But then you saw something that left you utterly confused.
The mystery girl. She was on her tiptoes, arms wrapped around Percy's neck in a hug that felt way too intimate for your liking.
Is she his girl?  Disgusting. More thoughts crept in, but you quickly shut it down. She was a Viper, and you'd only talked to her for ten minutes. You didn't get to feel some type of way about it. She was just...intriguing. Nothing more.
You shook your head, trying to dispel the thoughts. Focus on the race, focus on Anton. You told yourself.
You take a step back and settle in a spot between Madison and Hunter as the flag girls strutted to the front of the starting line, their boots clicking against the asphalt. One girl raised a checkered flag high, her red lips curled into a seductive smile as she glanced at both drivers. The other girl held the megaphone to her lips.
"Racers, are you ready?!" Her voice echoed across the lot, the engines revving in response.
"Three!"
"Two!"
"One!" Time seemed to slow. The crowd held its breath, and for a split second all that existed was the hum of engines, the gleam of metal, and the flashing lights.
Then, with a flick of her wrist, the flag girl swung the checkered flag down, and the cars exploded off the line.
Anton's car launched forward, while Percy's stayed right on his tail, neck and neck. The crowd erupted into cheers, the sheer speed of the cars leaving only a blur of metal behind them as they tore down the street.
With the cars gone you had nothing left to distract you from your thoughts. What were you genuinely doing here, you ask yourself.
Your eyes wandered back to the spot where you had last seen her. That girl—the one who had slipped into your mind with just a few words and a lingering look. Now, with Percy racing down the track, she stood with another Viper. This one was taller, with short hair, and they were both laughing, completely at ease with each other.
You laugh in disbelief shaking your head. This didn't seem like posturing to you, she seemed like she had fit right in. But again you catch yourself thinking, why were you even upset? She never said she hated her crew, she never said anything that implied she was like you, and now you wonder if you interpreted your interaction with her to something you wanted it to be rather than what it actually was.
The thought crept in, unwelcome. Maybe you were projecting your own loneliness, your desire to feel seen, onto someone who didn't even feel the same way. Someone who was just passing time in a moment. She was a Viper, fully a part of this world, while you were just an outsider passing through.
You turned to Madison and Hunter. "I'm gonna grab a drink. You guys want anything?"
They shook their heads, and you made your way to one of the cars stocked with drinks in the trunk. You opted for a soda rather than a beer.
You leaned against the car, slowly sipping your soda and trying to clear your head. The night had taken a strange turn—what started as excitement was now muddy with emotions you weren't sure how to handle. The hum of conversation and the occasional laughter from nearby crews were the only sounds cutting through the noise in your mind.
Then, suddenly, the atmosphere shifted.
It was subtle at first, a ripple of unease passing through the crowd. You heard hushed whispers and saw people glancing toward the far end of the lot. Then, like a wave crashing down, the sound of sirens pierced the night.
"Cops!" someone yelled, and the panic spread like wildfire.
People scrambled in every direction, grabbing their things and sprinting for their cars. Engines roared to life, and tires screeched as racers and spectators alike tried to escape before the police descended on the scene.
You tossed your soda to the ground, adrenaline surging through you as you looked around for Madison and Hunter, but they were already sprinting towards the opposite direction with the rest of the crew. You turned to follow, but something made you stop.
She wasn't moving.
In the chaos, you spotted her standing in the middle of the lot, frozen, her eyes wide but not making any attempt to run.  She wasn't panicked—she looked more...indifferent, like the flashing red and blue lights didn't mean anything to her.
Without thinking, you darted towards her. Your heart pounded in your chest as you weaved through the fleeing crowd, the sound of sirens growing louder by the second. When you reached her, you didn't hesitate—you grabbed her arm and pulled her.
"Come on!" you shouted over the noise, but she barely reacted, her feet stumbling as you dragged her away from the open lot.
You didn't stop until you reached the mouth of a narrow alleyway between two buildings. You pulled her into the shadows, pressing your back against the wall as you caught your breath. She was in front of you, calm in a way that made no sense considering the chaos unfolding behind you.
She gazed at you, a hint of amusement in her eyes as she was catching her breath. "You didn't have to do that, you know."
You shot her a look, exasperated. "You're welcome."
The distant sound of police radios crackled through the air as you both stood in silence, waiting for the madness to pass.
"You really should be more careful," you said, trying to break the silence. "It's not safe out there, especially with the cops around."
She shrugged, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I guess I'm just used to it. But I appreciate the concern."
You couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and curiosity. "So, what do you usually do in moments like this? Just... stand around?"
Her laughter was light, almost melodic. "Well, not exactly. Usually, I'd just blend in and keep my head down. But you've thrown a bit of a wrench in that plan."
"Is that a bad thing?" you asked, intrigued.
"Not necessarily," she replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "But it's definitely unexpected."
You took a step closer, feeling the distance between you narrow. "And here I thought I was just being a good Samaritan."
"Good Samaritan, huh?" She raised an eyebrow, playful yet cautious. "Seems like you might be getting in over your head, then."
"Maybe I like the thrill," you shot back, trying to keep the mood light. But beneath the banter, you both knew the stakes were higher than either of you wanted to admit.
"Well, be careful what you wish for," she said softly, her expression shifting momentarily to something more serious. "Not everything is as exciting as it seems."
You paused, trying to decipher her words. There was a depth to her that hinted at more than she was letting on. But before you could ask, she turned her gaze back to the alley,
Your phone suddenly dinged, breaking the tension. You glanced at it and saw a message from Mason.
"Seems like the cops cut the race short. Your crew lives to see another day."
You chuckled, but she didn't respond, just watching you with her doe eyes. You thought about what it would be like to give in.
But just then, the light caught her wrist, glinting off the expensive bracelet she wore.  The sight of it sent a jolt through you—a stark reminder that she was from Summer Valley, a Viper, and probably a handful you couldn't handle.
The realization hit hard, and you felt a rush of uncertainty. She was part of a world you didn't want to dive into, no matter how intriguing she might be.
You decide to walk off, out of the alley.
"Hey! Where are you going?" she called out, jogging to catch up.
"Home. The cops seem to be gone," you replied, keeping your tone light, words short.
The brown-eyed girl looked confused, she thought you were building a connection. Now you were suddenly dismissive, leaving without a word, and you could see her trying to process it.
"...Wait, um..." she stammered, hesitating as if searching for the right words.
You turned back, sensing the moment hanging between you.  You had a feeling you knew what she was going to say, and a knot formed in your stomach.
You took a step back, breaking the spell. "I really should go," you said, your voice firm, not giving her a chance to speak. You turned away, leaving her standing there, a mixture of confusion and disappointment on her face.
With that, you turned and walked deeper into the night. You could feel her watching you, but you kept moving, the weight of your decision heavy in your chest. But telling her your name would mean chaos.
As you navigated the alley, Anton's words echoed in your mind. "Maybe this isn't your thing, and that's fine. But you've got to find what is. What's your purpose, your drive? What makes your heart race? What's worth risking everything for?"
You were sure it wasn't her. As much as you felt a connection, you couldn't get further involved with the race world. She was just a pretty girl you met, and seemed to have some semblance of intellectuality. You know how this ends and its not pretty. You had responsibilities waiting at home—your mom counting on you, the weight of family expectations pressing down like a heavy fog.  You had to figure things out on your own, even if it meant leaving her behind.
You can't just be the calculated person that you are and then immediately start taking risks because your cousin told you to. This was your nature. Careful.
Still, a part of you wondered if the real risk was not in chasing the girl but in denying yourself the chance to discover what could truly make your heart race.
next chapter
433 notes · View notes
daenysx · 7 months ago
Note
I can't stop thinking about modern!aemond with his pregnant wife or with the baby, like him caressing her little bump, or massaging her when she feels tired
i wrote a little drabble for this, i hope it's okay <33
modern!aemond targaryen x pregnant fem!reader , fluff
you wrap your fingers around the cup of herbal tea aemond made for you minutes ago.
he's not sitting here with you, because he needs to make calls and work in his room. you told him it's okay, never liked keeping him away from his job. working is something he needs to do to keep his mind occupied, otherwise you think he'll be worried for you or the baby. it happened before.
your other hand draws absent-minded shapes on your belly. it's grown huge, to the point where you can't see your feet when you're standing up. it feels unbelievable sometimes, the fact that you'll be able to see your baby girl in such a short time. you will hold her in your arms, feed her and kiss her. it's gonna feel like a miracle, you're not familiar with miracles.
you are curious about the details, of course. not the giving birth part, you try to keep your mind away from it these days. but what will she look like? doctors are saying she's healthy and everything's okay. will she have aemond's hair? maybe your eyes? will she read lots of books when she's grown like her dad, or will she like obsessing over fictional characters from tv shows just like you did years ago? she'll be perfect, you know that much. a mix of aemond and you. perfect.
you can't wait to meet her for many reasons but it would also be nice to stop being pregnant and get rid of the aches in your body. it's not easy to carry a baby, no matter how excited you are, physical aspects cannot be ignored for too long. you feel swollen everywhere, it's hard to leave the bed or couch by yourself, and sometimes even your face doesn't feel like your own. you think it's normal to feel that way most times, but- not always. not today.
the couch beneath you is usually comfy, not now, though. it feels like something's digging up your spine, you tilt your head back to the pillows with a low groan. baby girl moves, she's a bit restless today. you want to move your legs, maybe walk a little to relieve the numbness in them. well, you can't leave the couch by yourself. tough luck.
your hero steps in, and you manage to take a nice breath. aemond comes to you, his face is unreadable. he tries not to let work bother him, especially when he needs to be okay for the three of you now, but you sense him feeling stressed over it. it looks like today will be a small disaster for each member of his little targaryen family.
"what's wrong?" aemond asks, the moment he sees your discomfort. "are you hurting anywhere?"
you hand him the tea cup, only took a few sips from it before. "can you help me up, please?"
"of course, my love." he softens immediately. it's time to be a good husband, he's not gonna sulk over business deals just now. "here, let me hold you." he says, supporting your body to lift you up.
it's nice to feel your legs again. you hold aemond's hand, his other arm supports your waist to give you something to lean back. you look up to him to get a kiss. it's needed desperately, and he's quick to give you what you want. your belly gets in the way a bit, but aemond is tall enough to still tower over you, your lips meet just right.
"do you wanna walk with me?" aemond asks. "let's go to kitchen and find something to eat for you."
"a walk would be nice." you say, accepting his lead. "she's moving too much today. it's feels like she's angry at me or something."
"she's just impatient." he defends his girl. "she'll be here soon."
"yes." you say happily, stepping into the kitchen. "we still need to decide a name, though."
you lean against the kitchen counter as aemond takes out some fruits from the fridge. he starts preparing a whole plate of them, pineapples and strawberries. just what you like.
"i mean, at least we have options." he says. "we just decide what feels right when we get to see her."
"mm, okay." you say, not having enough energy to discuss the name thing over again. it's hard to pick it, even harder to stop yourself from thinking another option and trying to decide which will be better.
aemond is done with the fruits, he washes his hands and gets a towel to dry them before reaching for you. "you look like you need to get some sleep." he says with a little smile on his face. he cups your cheeks to kiss your chin.
"but you just made me snacks." you tell him. snacks are important.
"they'll be here when you wake up." aemond reminds you. "i'm done with work today. we can go to bed and wake up at dinner time if you want."
normally it's a shock to hear these words from your husband, he doesn't like spending hours on sleeping during the day. after you started getting more tired though, he tries to stay with you as much as he can. you like having him in bed even when you can't cuddle properly, it's the way he makes you feel safe. also, quality time for your tiny family.
you nod, holding his hand again to go to bed. walking seems a bit harder now, you wrap your free hand around your belly. you're thankful for having aemond's clothes on you, nothing feels restraining at least. you sit on bed and try to find a nice position to lay down.
you don't like having covers on you but aemond still pulls the thin blanket on your legs. he lays down after, keeping his body as close to yours as he can. his hand finds its usual spot on your belly. he's gentle with the way he rubs your skin. you close your eyes, your poor muscles give up.
"why is my girl so restless today, hmm?" he asks softly, leaning to your baby as he talks to her. "you need to give your mommy a break, little love, i don't like seeing her so exhausted."
aemond kisses where your baby's head must be and you feel a sudden comfort spreading all over your body. "keep talking to her, please." you say. you love how he manages to calm both you and your baby.
"you'll be here soon." he says, his fingers meet with her as she moves. "we'll get to choose you a name, and you'll wear your tiny clothes. we need to pick up a teddy bear for you, and decide your favorite color to get you nice dresses. you need to be here to do all that, okay?"
you reach for aemond's hand when you feel sleep taking over you. he keeps talking to your baby, and she finally settles down. he doesn't sleep, he doesn't need to. he can only watch you and stay with you just in case you need anything when you wake up. he gives both of you occasional kisses to remind you of his presence.
491 notes · View notes
aishi-toru · 2 months ago
Text
YOU'RE MY WISHLIST! ♡
⟡ synopsis ─ gojo satoru's the man who seems to be everywhere you go, whether it be within the comfort of your own home or miles away from the place. well, guess what happens when you show up looking a little too fine at your college's annual christmas eve party?
꣑ৎ content ─ MDNI, brother'sbsf!satoru / collegesenior!satoru x afab!reader, reader is suguru's younger sister, no use of y/n, reader can't escape him, suggestive content, reader is in love w/ gojo (and vice versa), intentional use of lowercase, usage of pet names e.g baby, pretty, good girl, etc., smut in the form of fingering, and probably more idk
◖word count — 2.6k
☆ credits ─ live laugh love @anitalenia 4 the gorgeous divider <3 no specific inspiration for this fic, just felt like writing one fueled by my christmas spirit (i have never celebrated christmas in my life, so if u caught me lacking, no u didn't!)
꩜ author's note ─ first fic ever & ofc it's ft. my man !! i'm not v satisfied with this work and it was really rushed towards the end, so feedback is much appreciated :3 merry xmas to all those celebrating and happy holidays ♡ title's from "a nonsense christmas" by sabrina carpenter :3
Tumblr media
when you left home for college, you were certain you’d outrun the real-life horrors of your past— your parents' scoldings, the shitty food served at your school's cafeteria, the fake people you were surrounded by, and most importantly, your brother's best friend, gojo satoru, who just seemed to get finer with every single passing day.
the man was, for some reason, genetically white-haired all over. yeah, he had albinism, but god, the sight of him was no less than breath-taking. his sparkling, cerulean orbs, which glowed mesmerizingly both under the moonlight and the sun, seemed more and more enchanting with each passing moment. as the years went by with him by your brother's side, you told yourself to look away, refusing to acknowledge the feelings that flickered inside whenever you saw him. you did whatever you could to let go of them— tried to distract yourself with the shittiest of boyfriends, avoided him at school, locked yourself up in your room whenever he came over to hang out with your brother, you name it.
however, it seemed that luck hated, no, despised your embrace no matter how much you yearned for it, considering how the menace was always hovering around, inserting himself into your life at the most inconvenient moments. you're rehearsing for a school play in an empty classroom? the next thing you know, he has an arm propped around your shoulder and smiling at you in the most stupidly handsome way ever with a lollipop in his mouth as he asks you to just... practice with him around. oh, you're trying to get him off of you now? he'll steal your script before you can escape him and raise his hand up as high in the air as possible so you can't reach it. "hey, give it back!" you exclaim, only to be met by a smug smirk on his face and the most annoying "nuh-uh." he completely refuses unless you promise to not kick him out until the practice session is over.
you're walking back home with your brother, suguru? oops, gojo is there too! he's ruffling your hair no matter how pissed you get and yell at him; he only finds joy and pleasure in seeing you in this enraged state. whether he was a sadist, masochist, or simply insane, you did not know.
so, starting college felt like stepping into freedom. no more conversations centered around satoru, no more being so pissed you lose your voice from screaming, and no more late-night sob sessions everytime he got a new girlfriend.
however, it seemed that you'd forgotten that the stars didn't quite align for you, and the universe had decided to remind you of that very fact by ensuring that satoru received enough distinctions to be able to transfer universities. oh, and of course, the one he'd chosen just had to be the one you'd decided to spend the next 4 years of your life in. it wasn't until after you’d moved into your dorm and started your classes that you found out.
the first time you saw him around campus, you were freaked the fuck out. nevertheless, you simply assumed he was visiting a friend or relative and dismissed the sight.
however, much to your dismay, you discovered that he was, in fact, a senior at your college—a 2nd year, to be exact. it wouldn't be an understatement to assume you nearly had a heart attack when you found out, considering how this was the same guy who used to have a 2.6 gpa back in high school. when did he even start taking his studies seriously and lock in hard enough to meet the criteria and eligibility for your university, one of the most prestigious in the entire country? instead of rooting for you, fate just had to be your biggest hater.
every single time you saw him around, gojo would come up to you to exchange greetings and obviously, tease you about the most embarrassing things from your past while his obnoxious fangirls stared you the fuck down, wondering why he's so close to you even though you're just a freshman who should have nothing to do with him.
what surprised you more, however, was that you sometimes shared the same sentiment as them because you were definitely never this close with satoru. not in all the years your brother used to hang out with him, or all the times you'd seen each other on family dinners. sure, he'd teased you plenty, but he had no real concern or curiosity towards you. you found him walking you to classes, treating you to coffee and meals, buying you all the snacks you could ever need during exam preparations and so much more that you could never even list down.
and worst of all, the feelings you'd so desperately pushed away in the past had now creeped their way back into your heart and embedded every inch of your soul even deeper.
it struck you then—satoru’s actions might not be out of pure obligation. that would’ve been far too simple, too detached for someone like satoru. maybe, just maybe, there was something more to it, something unspoken lingering beneath it all. you couldn’t say for sure if it was intentional or not, but whatever it was, it felt personal, like you mattered in a way that went beyond the promises he'd made to your elder brother and family.
but still, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was all just in your head. satoru’s actions, the way he treated you—it didn’t necessarily mean what you thought it did. it could be nothing—satoru’s actions didn’t have to mean anything. maybe you were just fooling yourself, letting your feelings cloud your judgment. so, you buried them as deep as you could, pushing them aside, telling yourself that letting go was the only way to protect yourself from the uncertainty. it was easier to convince yourself that you were just being delusional instead of facing what could be very real.
although, you do seriously question your latter supposition at your annual college christmas eve party when satoru, dressed in the sexiest 3-piece navy blue pinstripe suit with a black tie, has you pinned against the door of the nearest bathroom. if haven't had the opportunity to pay enough attention to his luminous, cerulean eyes up until now, you do at this very moment when he's staring at you like a predator would at it's prey.
"satoru," you let out a breath you weren't aware of holding, "what are you doing?" gojo, whose gaze had shifted down to your lips, let out a chuckle. "oh, so it's satoru now," he murmured, his hand pushing your hair behind your ear. "fine, 'toru..," you pronounce, going back to the nickname you'd started calling him during the while you'd spent with him. "that's more like it." his eyes meet yours again, conveying the desire and thirst that stirred within him— for how long, nobody knows.
the air around you two was thicker than usual, laced with tension as well as something… else. "you still haven't answered my question." upon your words, the white-haired man's face broke out into a cupid-induced smile, the most beautiful you'd ever seen. "well," his right thumb traced the outline of your lips so light as if you'd break from further pressure, "i thought you looked beautiful." what he says renders you speechless, your throat gone dry and your cheeks turning the prettiest shade of rose (in his eyes, at least.) "you always do, but even more so today." and if you weren't already a flustered mess, you would most certainly be now.
your reaction only draws a smirk on his face, and he decides to tease you a little more. "so, on that note, what do you think i'm doing?," his voice lowers as his hand traces its way down to your neck. "i... uh- i don't know... you tell me." satoru grins, only wanting to push you further.
"yeah? how about i show you instead?" and a mere instant later, his lips come crashing down on yours— you couldn't say you hadn't been expecting or anticipating it, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the way his warm and impossibly soft lips felt against yours. initially, you froze, and you came to realise that all the possibilities you'd once ignored were now very much real.
it wasn't a bad thing— no, nowhere near it, maybe even one of the best that could ever happen to you. however, it did feel like too much of a development to be able to process in a matter of seconds.
upon the realisation that you hadn't responded to his advances, satoru pulled back from the kiss, seeming rather puzzled. "was i wrong?" he inquires, voice lower and deeper than it normally would be.
the melodic sound of his voice is what breaks your trance and serves as your call back to reality. you wanted to say no, reach for his collar, get on your tip-toes and lean in to kiss him, but you were stuck in place. you couldn't find your voice or your words, and it felt like your heels were superglued to the tiles of the bathroom floor.
if it hadn't already been obvious, you'd been yearning for this moment for god knows how long, and now that it was handed to you on a sliver platter, you couldn't simply pass up on it. being well aware of the fact that this encounter could change your and satoru's relationship for either the better or the worse, you took a deep breath, cupped the sides of his face, and tilted your head just enough to be able to kiss the man. your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to pull him even closer, if that was possible.
being the way he is, satoru smiled into the kiss and lowered his hands to your hips. he could tell you were pouring each and every emotion from both the past and the present, and of course, he was doing the same.
it was inevitable, really— now that you could feel his skin against yours, it wasn't too difficult to put the pieces together and figure out that this was all bound to happen, already having been inked into the wondrous book of fate.
and so, for the first time in all the years you'd spent alongside satoru, you could say that the universe was, in fact, rooting for you. the way gojo's lips moved against yours, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world when he pulled away, the way the both of you heavily panted but still chased each other's warmth again barely seconds later, are more than enough confirmation.
"no, you weren't," you reply, feeling giddier than you ever had. "i wasn't what?" his hands caress your cheek with a carefulness that was almost unlike him, and your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest (in the best way possible.) "you weren't wrong."
"and i'm still not wrong if i do this?" his large hand reached under your clothes and wandered up to your waist, resting over the skin of the region. "or this?" his mouth had reached your neck, leaving kisses-turned-bites all over, which were sure to transform into hickeys.
"no... no, you're not," you let out breathlessly, unable to escape the fire coursing through your veins at the slightest touch. you wanted more, so much more, and satoru was the only one who could fulfil your needs— not that you would have it any other way.
"you sure, pretty?" the corner of his mouth went up, resulting in a lopsided grin— he was obviously teasing you, that was just the way he was and always had been.
"uh-huh," you nod to reaffirm your statement. "good girl," he breathes out, only contributing to the echoes in the parts of your body which ached for him so badly.
his long fingers played and toyed with the hem of your dress, as if to test the waters. when you didn't resist, his hand sneaked up your thigh, gently fondling the skin.
despite the confidence in his actions, he observed every expression on your face cautiously, ensuring that nothing he did hurt you or made you uncomfortable in any way. when you show no signs on unease but instead only desire, he goes on to satisfy and soothe your needs.
his fingers traced their way up your inner thighs and lurked over the already soaked fabric of your underwear, bringing about a chuckle from satoru. "so needy for me already, hm?" he remarks, as if his own pants weren't tightening upon the observation.
"shut up, 'toru..." you're trying to regain your composure and keep up an attitude, but to no avail. the fact that he has you exactly where he wants you isn't helping, either. you're even trying to avoid his gaze, but the way you can feel his presence everywhere makes it impossible to do so— besides, he's making you face him again using his index finger and thumb to hold your chin in between, as he whispers out a "look at me, baby."
and when you do, you have to let out a gasp at the sight of him— his disheveled hair which was perfectly tamed at the start of the night, his half-lidded eyes as he looks at you like you're his entire world and his lips that are now slightly bruised and swollen from the kisses you've shared. it was beyond enough to get you all the more hot and bothered.
oh, but that's not the only factor contributing to the sounds you're making— it's also the way he's pulled your panties to the side and is currently tracing your slit ever so slowly. "want more, princess?" nearly mocking tone.
you hardly even manage to let out a hum before his slender fingers are running over the most sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a moan from you. your eyes roll all the way back when one of his digits slides inside you just a moment later— you'd never been this sensitive, but it seems that was going to be entirely different with satoru.
he added one after the other, and now, three of his freakishly large fingers were pumping in and out of you relentlessly— he was so good with them, you could practically taste your orgasm about to wash over you.
"'m close, satoru," you whimper out almost pathetically, and his fingers are going even deeper now, hitting the spots you'd never even dreamt of reaching on your own. "yeah? is my princess gonna cum for me?" his voice is rough and he's groaning as if he's the one receiving the pleasure.
you can only nod as your arousal overwhelms you, white ropes of cum spurting out from your throbbing hole with one final thrust of his fingers. his entire hand was covered in your fluids, which he brought up to his mouth to be able to savor the sweetness of your juices on his tongue. god, he was an obsessed freak when it came to you.
"ew, satoru! why would you do that?" you hold back a giggle, expressing faux disgust at his actions. he only kisses you in response instead of using his words, making sure you get to taste what he'd drawn out of you as well.
"you think suguru's gonna be mad?" he asks, obviously amused at the idea of your brother enraged when he finds out what you and satoru have done. "oh yeah, definitely." he sweetly presses yet another kiss to your lips.
"if it's at the expense of me getting everything i wished for, i don't care, babe."
Tumblr media
@cuntphoric :33
279 notes · View notes
lostinmycolor · 1 year ago
Text
"darling," he whispers, ever so softly, the rasp in his voice reverberating through you and making you shiver. he chuckles silently at the little squeaks that leave your lips whenever your hips slam down on his cock as you look down at him with those pretty eyes of yours. for some reason, whenever he looks into them, they remind him of the stars he was so close to once upon a time. something that should be a bad memory but really isn't because you make it more nostalgic, in some kind of mysterious way. you almost make him miss it.
your hands are gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, nails digging into his skin in a way that should be painful, but instead just makes everything feel ten times better. he has a hand on your hip, gripping it firmly, his fingers forming slight dents in your skin. his free hand is wandering over your body, moving up from your clit to your tits, pinching your sensitive buds. he swears he's falling even more in love with you when you toss your head back and let out a long whine of pleasure when he does so. you look so beautiful.
how are you even real? he wonders. he's never had eyes for anyone the way he has eyes for you. he's seen and experienced so many beautiful things, explored so many different worlds in his dreams, in his past lives, but none of them compare to you. anything in any universe that is considered beautiful is nothing when it comes to you.
the way you moan his name is like the strings that play in his mind when he's feeling the rush of his highs, but somehow you're always able to make them sound like a beautiful symphony instead of just a jumble of noise like it used to be, before you. he wonders what type of magic you hold inside of you that makes you capable of making even the ugliest and most broken of things look so beautiful. he notices your legs are giving up on you and smiles at how endearing it is, the fact that you're practically struggling, but you need him so badly you're doing everything you can to keep up your movements. his hand grips your hip tighter, almost enough to bruise your skin, and he moves his free hand to your lower back to help you keep your balance.
he wonders, for a moment, if he knew you in the past life, or all those years ago. he can't really remember since it's been so long, and the memories of when he was cast out of heaven clouded his brain. but it's almost as if he can see for a brief second, something otherworldly when he looks at you, the way your skin glows with splendor when your back arches as you cum on his cock. for a moment it's like you're a real life angel right in front of him, it's such a sight to behold. was god testing him? were you sent to him as a lesson in disguise? would you be gone as soon as this was all over? whatever it was, he didn't care, as long as he got to feel you as close as possible even if you turned out to not be real when he opened his eyes again.
it's almost a relief when he does and he sees you there, still on top of him, panting heavily, eyes hooded, hair sticking to your face. a beautiful mess. the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen. he's so in love with you. he reaches up to brush your hair off of your damp cheeks, smiling and delicately taking your chin to make you look at him, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, the way you lean down to kiss him and smile against his lips making everything feel a little more real.
more real and alive, he thinks. he's never felt more alive than when he sees you like this—beautiful and wild and messy in all the right ways, all for him, because of him. there was nothing better than being able to love you in such a pure way, without repercussion, no matter how terrifying it was, because you remind him of himself before everything. before the jealousy and fury, before he fell from heaven and got his wings stripped from his back, before he was disowned by god himself. the fallen angel was redeemed from the depths of hell and found his heaven in your embrace, in your eyes, in you. you're everything he's ever wanted.
955 notes · View notes