#why can't i just lay down and die
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
biidisaster99 · 4 months ago
Text
How do you say the things that are not meant to be said,
How does one feel happy when you are full of dread,
How do you feel something that isn't real but is true,
How does one love and not regret.
0 notes
angorwhosebabyisthis · 7 months ago
Text
[pericky; a look into ricky's head during their meeting.]
---
"I'm glad you came, I wasn't sure you would." The wine pours, the sound of it drowning out the missing word in that sentence: back.
Of course, is the response, and the part of Ricky that's spent twenty years tearing itself apart to understand why vibrates with relief. It doesn't matter anymore. Of course, of course, he thinks giddily along with the words. He never needed to wonder why Pericles wasn't coming back in the first place; he was always going to.
I'm happy you invited me, and of course he thinks again. A lifetime of pretending he wasn't always going to either falls away. However harsh and lonely the world has been, all's right with it again; and the shy voice of the boy inside him that he's tried so hard to kill says, so quietly, I missed you.
#sdmi#scooby doo: mystery incorporated#pericky#ricky owens#professor pericles#anyway fucking end me actually. lay me down to die#i said i was gonna write more pericky and by fucking god i did#the 'why did you do this to me' to 'oh thank god you didn't actually do this to me' pipeline of abuse folks 🥲#which like. their last conversation is yet another devastating example of ricky finally standing up to pericles' bullshit Too Late#ricky denounces him in the strongest terms he knows; based on his own feelings and opinions and the way he sees the world#(which: even then he can't bring himself to say 'i don't love you anymore')#(the closest he can get is 'i chose you and i can't take it back; the only way i can imagine not loving you is if i never had at all')#and pericles tries to go 'nyeh nyeh whatever i don't care' (and does a real bad job of pretending he is not obviously hurt lmao)#and ricky doesn't try to understand his logic; he doesn't try to reconcile a world where pericles didn't *really* mean to do anything wrong#his response is MAYBE YOU *SHOULD* CARE.#pericles' view of the world and what's right and acceptable are warped and *wrong* and he's the one who needs to get his shit together#'you shouldn't have abused me you shouldn't have killed cassidy you shouldn't have murdered a child in cold blood'#that is MASSIVE and i think it is really telling that pericles' response is to shut him down with force instead of trying to argue any more#and that in the end is the real true fucking tragedy of it all#ricky is making huge strides one after the other to take back his freedom from pericles emotionally#....and materially it makes no difference to improve his situation in the moment; because pericles doesn't have any less power to abuse him#he never has a triumphant moment where he Overcomes His Abuser and Breaks Out of His Control#there's nothing he can do to fight back until pericles is too Literally Dead to control him anymore#it is one of the rawest depictions of the reality of abuse i've ever seen and just. God. i love it so much#(at the same time i REALLY want to explore a version of events where he got the chance to expand further on that growth)#(the 'all witches are selfish; make all things yours; i have a duty' speech from the wee free men comes to mind)#whosebaby makes things#whosebaby writes#SDMItag#dyn: when i die i want you to die too
9 notes · View notes
yanderetheumbrellaacademy · 9 months ago
Text
Drunk! Five Hargreeves Headcanons/One-shot
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He becomes super clingy and giggly
He can't walk straight and ends up just falling into you
Eyes are swarmed with an unknown emotion and a stupid smile takes over his face
"Have I ever told you how pretty you are?" He giggles, poking your nose with a 'bop'
His personality has taken a 180
His nails practically dig into your skin as he tries to hold onto you
Drinking is one of the things he overindulges in and you have to stop him
His hands are all over you, touching you, feeling you, holding you
He's not usually so affectionate, so it takes you by surprise
"Kiss me, please," he slurs his words, his lips puckering to kiss you, but you push him back slightly
You help him to his bedroom, as he tries to fight you, because he doesn't want to go to bed, he wants to stay up with you
You have to go with him for him to go to his room
As you go to leave, he reaches for you, "Please don't leave-"
---
You roam the halls looking for Five after his brother's wedding. You had seen him throwing back drink after drink, so you were worried that he was off somewhere black-out drunk. You heard light moaning and groaning coming from a far back room and you slowly opened the door to see Five sitting in a corner. His hair was a mess along with his shirt and tie.
He looked up slightly when hearing the door open. His eyes widened when seeing you; He tries to stand up, but ends up falling over and groaning.
"God, you are so drunk."
"I... I mam nost druuunk," his voice slurs as he speaks, causing his words to intertwine with each other.
"Uhuh," You walk over to him, grabbing his hand and helping him up. He leans into you, his head falling onto your shoulder. "I'm taking you to your room."
He adamantly shakes his head, "Noooo, no. I'm not tired."
You looked up at him, his body weight now pressing down at you, since he couldn't stand on his own. Your brows frown when seeing his eyes close and you roll your eyes. "You're so drunk, you don't realize that you're falling asleep right now."
He shakes his head, not able to vocally respond. Granted, even though was denying his sleepyness, he followed you to his room.
You slowly open the door, before shutting it with your foot when you both get in. He hangs off of you as you lead him to his bed and laying him down.
"Alright, Five. Try not to die in your sleep," You turn to leave, but you're stopped by a hand; His hand. He grabbed you, tightly, and was looking up at you with sleepy eyes.
"Please... Stay. Don't leave."
"You want me to stay?" You get out, ignoring his nails digging into your wrist.
He slowly blinks, trying to process what he was going to say next. He hums, before finally responding, "Yeah.. I want you to stay."
Before you can respond though, he yanks you towards him, holding you close against him. You sighed but ultimately accepted your fate. Hopefully, sober Five wouldn't question why he was entangled with you in a cuddle. Though knowing him, he probably would adamantly deny wanting to hold you close. But as they say, drunk actions are sober thoughts
3K notes · View notes
seventeenpins · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
nightly
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader word count: 1k summary: Joel is a mistake you just keep making. content/warnings: no specified Joel era so take your pick, dirty talk, literally all just smut, big dick, daddy kink, breeding kink, dubcon undertones, Joel is an asshole a/n: I have been struggling to focus on writing for a minute now, but the horny gods smiled upon me and let me get this together. Praise be to @ozarkthedog for always letting me run my godforsaken ideas past you. Love you lots 💕
You can feel the wet spot on the bed against your back. Joel has you folded like a pretzel, backs of your knees resting on his sun-freckled shoulders, wrists pinned above your head and ass suspended in the air as he drills into you. A single curl bounces at his temple, separate from the rest of his hair that's plastered with sweat to his forehead.
If you make the same mistake five days in a row, can you really still call it a mistake?
He's far too old for you, and a little too mean for you, but damned if he isn't the best lay you've ever had.
Eight inches, uncut, a dick so fucking fat you can barely wrap your hand around it. You can hardly believe he's buried balls deep in you right now. That your body can even take it.
"C'mon, honey, that's it-" Joel's voice is a growl, punctuated by heavy panting, "This pretty lil gash is fuckin' droolin' baby, my own personal slip 'n slide-"
"You're a crass old man," you whine.
"I sure am, honey," he agrees with a grin, "But don't think I can't feel the way you soak me whenever I talk crass, sweetheart."
"I hate you."
He laughs, and a bead of sweat rolls down his temple and along the curve of his nose, splashing onto your cheek. Unthinkingly, you dart your tongue out to catch some of the sweat. Joel's grin turns to a smirk.
"Hate me all you like. You're the one who's come over every night this fuckin' week. Monday through Friday, baby. Hate me so much you can't get enough of daddy's big dick, huh?"
"Fuck you, you're such an asshole-"
This jab is even less effective, punctuated with a moan and a whimper.
"Sure, sweetheart, I am. But don't pretend like we don't both know--you don't have to come here at all."
He grinds against you, coarse hair rubbing against your mound as if to further his point. Pressure hits your clit just right and it's bliss. You have to fully restrain yourself to stop from howling, and even then, you let out a ragged moan.
Joel clamps a hand over your mouth and looks you dead in the eyes.
"I love those pretty sounds, baby, but remember I got neighbors? Thought you said you'd die before anyone finds out about us."
You try to roll your eyes, but he thrusts again and you're caught in another moan. The glide of his body against your clit, especially when he's stretching you out so exquisitely? It's overwhelming. You try to stay quiet, you really do.
It's not your fault though, not when Joel's fucking you silly.
Now, though, he's frustrated.
"Quiet now, settle-"
"I'm not a fucking dog, Joel, I- ahhh-" you mumble and moan between his fingers, barely muffled at all.
"Oh really? Not a fucking dog? Wanna tell me then why you're tryna get bred like a bitch in heat?"
He smacks your cheek, drawing out another pathetic whine that only seems to cement his point.
He sneers. "Those pretty lil noises you're makin' for me? That don't sound like a good girl. That sounds to me like a nasty fuckin' slut who can't help but keep her legs spread so her daddy can fill her up good. Huh? C'mon baby. Tell me to cum inside."
"Fuck you Joel."
Suddenly, cruelly, he stops. Ceases any movement. Relaxes the grip on your wrists.
Panic overtakes you.
"What the fuck-?"
"Sorry sweetheart," he shakes his head, "You don't want this? You can see yourself out."
"No, I-"
You notice he's still sheathed inside you. You feel him do something, flexing his dick inside of you. Frankly, it's cheating.
"Please don't stop."
"What was that, honey?"
"Joooeeel-"
"Quit your whinin', use your words."
"Please fuck me."
"That ain't it, you know whatcha gotta say."
He starts rocking his hips gently, a slippery glide. It's not enough to stimulate. Just enough to make you want more. Need more.
The way you clench around him tells on yourself more starkly than your words ever could.
He's grinning again. "That's it, baby. You ready to admit what you need?"
"Come on, Joel."
"Cum where?"
You sigh. But you know you aren't gonna hold out any longer. He's pressing his thumb just above your clit and the glide of the motion is so fucking delicious it's hard not to buck against it.
Rut against it.
A bitch in heat.
"Fuck me, daddy-" you whine.
"You sound real pretty beggin'. Nearly got it honey. One more try?"
"Cum inside me."
"Mmmmm-" Joel groans, and the grip on your wrists tightens again. "Music to my ears, honey. Tell me where you want it?"
"Inside me, cum inside-"
"You want me to cum inside this lovely lil' pussy?"
"Please Joel-"
"That right?"
"Please cum in me, fill me up, fuck it deep-"
With that, his composure breaks and any restraint he had crumbles. Folds you deeper, fucks you deeper, pins you down and jackhammers into you.
You couldn't move, even if you wanted to, and that knowledge somehow heightens everything. It's blindingly bright, dizzyingly addictive. You barely notice the way Joel's lavishing you with praise, each deep thrust punctuated with good girl, good girl, good fucking girl-
When you cum, you feel the way his balls tighten as if in response, tipping over the edge mere moments after you. It could be romantic, finding yourselves cumming together, if there was any romance between you.
As you start to fade back down, you're able to pay attention again.
"That's it," he's praising you, and you realise his cock is still pulsing. You make to start moving, but he growls and holds you still. "That's right, sweetheart. Gotta let me fill you all the way up. Gonna make sure it takes."
Clarity starts to overtake you and you know that you've made a big fucking mistake. By the time you've come back to yourself, though, your pussy's flooded and pulsing oh so nicely, and Joel's pulling out of you. He moves into the other room and you hear him turn on the shower.
"You can let yourself out," he calls to you. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Your panties are sticky the whole way home.
1K notes · View notes
syn0vial · 1 year ago
Text
Astarion Voicelines: Healing/Helping/Buffing (Now updated for Patch 1.3)
A compilation of Astarion's voicelines when he's healing a character with a spell, using the "help" action to free them from an immobilized position, or casting a buffing spell.
Voice lines added between patches 1.1 and 1.3 have been marked with bold text.
Healing (Negative Approval)
Of course you need help.
Waste of a spell.
There's always something.
A poor investment.
Don't bleed on me.
If I must.
Just don't bleed on me.
I should let it fester.
Do I have to touch them?
You're bleeding. Again.
Oh for Gods' sake.
I won't always save you.
Healing (Neutral Approval)
Stop bleeding - it's distracting.
We'll fix what we can.
Try not to die.
You're leaking.
Let's not die yet.
You owe me.
That's enough wasted blood.
There's life in you yet.
Let's fix what we can.
Healing. How novel.
Stop bleeding!
Fine, I'll save you.
Healing (Positive Approval)
A helping hand.
No more wasted blood.
We need you strong.
Let's play doctor.
We'll patch you up.
Let's not die yet.
You're wasting blood.
We need you strong.
It's not your time.
Let's fix that.
You're not dying.
Healing (Romantic Interest)
Let's fix you up.
Let's not waste any blood.
Let's lay on hands.
Let's play doctor.
No, no - that won't do.
The kiss of life.
Stay strong, darling.
You're not going down.
A little pick-me-up.
Healing touch.
Shhh, it's all right.
Helping (Negative Approval)
Of course you're stuck.
Of course they're trapped.
Let's get you loose.
Help the idiot.
Worse than useless.
Some don't deserve saving.
I should just leave you.
Oh no, is someone stuck?
You're a danger to yourself.
How have you survived this long?
I could just leave them...
I'll help. This time.
Can't they wriggle free?
So helpless...
Damned fool.
Give me patience.
Give me strength.
Oh no, they're stuck.
Helping (Neutral Approval)
Why am I not surprised?
Someone needs help.
What have you done now?
Yes yes, I'll save you.
Not that I'll get any thanks...
Must I?
Yes, fine.
Fine.
All right, I'm coming.
Yes, I'll free you.
Let's go already.
Your hero is here.
Do I have to do everything?
Yes, yes, I'm coming.
All right, I'm coming!
Fine, I'll free you.
Let's get you loose.
Oh for goodness' sake.
Because I've nothing better to do.
Get back in the fight.
I swear...
Helping (Positive Approval)
Ha! Oh I shouldn't laugh.
Help is here.
Relax, I've got you.
Come on, let's move.
I'll free you.
Your hero is coming.
All right, all right.
Let's get you up.
I'll get you loose.
Come on, move.
Easy, I'm here.
Hold on, I'm coming.
Helping (Romantic Interest)
A sticky situation.
Let's get you free.
I'm coming.
Really, darling?
Don't worry, I'm here.
Let's get you moving.
You look good helpless.
Maybe they like being restrained?
Don't worry, I'm here.
Let's get you moving.
You'll be free soon.
Oh I shouldn't laugh.
In a spot of bother, hmm?
Buffing (Negative Approval)
Try not to waste it.
Let's waste a spell - why not?
Do I have to do everything?
Useless.
Of course you need help.
Just try not to die.
What a waste.
Yes, fine.
Fine.
If I must.
Do I have to?
Buffing (Neutral Approval)
How did you last so long without me?
Do not waste this.
Don't worry, I'm here.
Someone needs help, I see.
Yes, all right.
A little help.
All right, here.
Don't waste this.
You clearly need some help.
Let's try to survive, hmm?
Stay strong!
Do not let me down.
Try not to die.
I swear, if you just die...
Fine, here!
Just try to survive, will you?
Buffing (Positive Approval)
Lucky I'm here.
Where would you be without me?
Here you go.
This should help.
Better safe than stiff.
A little boost.
A friend in need.
Someone needs a little help.
Just a moment.
Buffing (Romantic Interest)
I've got you.
Let's keep you safe.
Let's keep you cute.
Help is here.
Don't worry, I'm here.
For you, darling.
Just in case
Let's be safe.
Here, darling.
This should help.
No need to thank me.
4K notes · View notes
wizardpink · 5 months ago
Text
@iamanoccasionaldoodler
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Okay so,
There seems to be this negative reaction to the finale from a lot of Devil's Minion fans and I don't understand it for a lot of reasons, but one of them is ... I don't get why people are upset that, when read at it's worst, Armand and Daniel are seemingly not on good terms after Daniel is turned. I keep seeing this belief that Armand "abandoned" him, which I think is fully pulled from y'alls collective ass, and a disappointment that Daniel would call Armand a "fucking asshole."
But the thing about Armand/Daniel everyone seems to be forgetting is that even in the source material, they first had to tear each other down to their bare bones before they could see each other well enough to love one another -- REALLY love one another. Because Armand is a russian nesting doll of lies, masks, and emotional walls, and with Daniel, idek if I can explain it properly, but I think its some combination of Armand needing to break him a bit to get him on his level of broken freakitude, and also Armand not being able to relate to the 20th Century Human period and needing to drill down into Daniel's core, straight down into the monkey brain that every homo sapien has shared for eons, before he can find something he understands.
If we were to ever get a proper Devil's Minion storyline on this show (and we will), they've laid the perfect groundwork by having Daniel EVISCERATE Armand right to his face, slicing his Gorgon's knot of lies and schemes in half and leaving it lay on that table. And Armand's face! HIS FACE! He can't believe it! Seventy-seven years with Louis who never could unravel all the strings, or simply didn't care to even bother. And THIS guy who seemingly hates him found Armand fascinating enough to try. AND succeed!
And why wouldn't he? Daniel may not have remembered until they were nearing the end of the interview, but Armand SHOWED Daniel what was beneath the mask years ago, the very first time they met. The jealous, insecure, desperate creature that was hiding under there, that IS Armand to Daniel.
I'm getting off track here, but what I'm trying to say is that as much as Armand turning Daniel in the books is SUCH a flawless scene, ultimately, if you believe in the infinite and eternal nature of their love story, it doesn't matter whether Armand turned Daniel before they fell for each other, afterward, during a break-up or at the climax of their most romantic streak. Like Lestat said, "We'll be together ten thousand nights, a hundred thousand. What we're doing is hard."
So maybe Armand turned Daniel shortly after Daniel stripped him bare in front of Louis, and Louis was so disgusted by what he saw, he threw him into a stone wall. Daniel could have run, too. For some reason, he didnt. Armand could have killed him in an instant, sitting at that table or after Louis left. He didn't. Armand made a conscious decision to tie himself to this man who just exposed him for ETERNITY. Because as horrific an experience as it was, as devastating and life-altering, he was seen.
"It is difficult to explain how his words disarmed me, how efficiently succinct and impenetrable his argument was. All my conceptions, even my guilt and my wish to die, seemed utterly unimportant, and I completely forgot myself and the barbaric scene that surrounded me. For the first time in my life, I was seen."
Louis said those words about Lestat as he described being made a vampire, when he kissed Lestat on the altar.
That feeling, of someone cutting to the core of you and telling you exactly what you are as no one else has ever been able to understand, made Louis accept the Dark Gift from Lestat.
And it made Armand give that Gift to Daniel.
824 notes · View notes
archangeldyke-all · 11 days ago
Note
sev def lays on top of u whenever she makes u mad until you stop being mad
ASDJFPWEWFPJD:LDF this is so fucking funny and cute
men and minors dni
the first time it happens, you and sevika are in your first real fight of your relationship.
sevika had stood you up on a date, only to show up on your doorstep five hours later bloodied and beaten.
the simultaneous sting of rejection mixed with the heartbreak of seeing your love in such rough shape resulted in you angrily patching sevika up in the bathroom, ranting at her as you tended to her wounds.
"b-baby, you know i've got a crazy job. sometimes i come home bloody. some nights i won't be able to come home at all. and you should know by now that i wouldn't fuckin' stand you up without a good reason."
"i know that sevika, which is why i'd fucking appreciate it if you could send a fucking messenger to me next time you gotta bail on our plans! i thought you were dead in a fucking ditch somewhere!" you cry.
sevika blinks, seemingly not having considered this point yet. "oh." she says, her heart breaking a bit as she realizes how worried you must've been. you're always worried about her; pouting when you find new bruises on her body and giving silco dirty looks when he's been treating her poorly, and sevika knows how hard you work to accept her lifestyle and job-- but she can only fucking imagine how scared you must've been for the few hours where she was missing. she'd die if she thought something happened to you.
"did you hit your head at all?" you ask, glaring down at your girlfriend while your hands gently move her head back and forth, studying her pupils.
"no."
"good." you grunt, dropping your hands quickly and angrily packing up the first aid kit. "i'm going to bed. you need to take a bath-- you stink." you spit, storming out of the bathroom.
sevika blinks, the full gravity of her fuck up hitting her-- and then she rushes after you.
you're cursing her out under your breath and slamming drawers as you change into your pajamas.
sevika cringes, desperately trying to think of a way to get herself out of the doghouse. "baby--"
"i don't wanna hear it, sevika. not tonight."
she gulps, and then does the only thing she can think to do.
in three big strides, sevika's pushing you onto the bed and collapsing on top of you. you squeak, then start to squirm underneath her.
"what the fuck are you doing!?" you ask.
sevika shrugs on top of you. "you're angry at me."
"...so!?" you squeal.
"so i'm squishing you until you love me again." sevika says.
you can't help but giggle, smacking her shoulder. "i still love you, jackass, i'm just mad at you."
"so i'm squishing the mad out of you." she says simply. you laugh, your anger slowly melting away at sevika's sweetness. "i'm sorry. really. i didn't-- i didn't even think of how scary that could be for you. i-i'll send someone next time i gotta stay late. i promise."
with the easy way you melt underneath her after that, sevika starts laying on top of you anytime you argue after that, too.
you bitch at her about how she's always letting food crust on her plates in the sink-- she lays on you.
she skips her dentist appointment and gets a cavity and you're pissed when you find out-- she lays on you.
she spoils the end of the book you're reading on accident, and, you guessed it-- she's laying on you until you finally sigh and forgive her.
it's nice. sevika always uses the time on top of you to figure out her words-- figure out a proper apology and something to make it up to you. you like the pressure of her body on top of you-- it helps the firey anger inside you disperse and it's reassuring to know that even when you're pissed at her, sevika's gonna stay with you.
plus, most of the time your arguments end when you start running away from sevika, insisting she don't lay on you this time, and she chases after you, both of you forgetting your grievances to giggle and chase each other around the house.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke
508 notes · View notes
kirikeijii · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
𝐎𝐨𝐩𝐬, 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧!
Inumaki x gn ! reader
synopsis: every time you go in for a kiss before you leave for anything, you don't kiss him on his lips, just beside it. He's wondering, why?
cw: fluff, no pronouns used, idk really but enjoy :)
Tumblr media
Inumaki seems to be noticing something new about you but he couldn't put his finger on it. It first started when you left for a mission.
"Toge, Bye-bye!" You ran up to him leaning in for a kiss. He leaned up for a kiss on the lips but you only managed to kiss near it and left for the mission. Inumaki looked at the door you left with furrowed eyebrows. "Maybe she was in a hurry. . ." He whispered.
The second time was when you left to get some snacks for movie night in the kitchen.
Inumaki was sitting on the floor before the bed while you lay on your stomach on the bed with your head on his. "Toge?" You called as he hummed in response. "You want me to get some snacks?" You look down at him. He looked at you and then nodded. You smiled at him and kissed him beside his lips, again!
Before he can even say something (He can't) you've already left the room leaving him all pouty the whole night.
That behavior continued for a month, that's when he thought you were avoiding his lips because you were upset or something, or maybe you wanna break up with him? Or are you just teasing him? He wanted an answer, he needed it now.
The next time you were going for a mission he decided to confront you.
"Toge! I have to go! Bye-bye!" You tried to go in for a kiss but he moved away? Aw. "Okaka!" He turned his head the other way. "Toge, what's wrong? Did I do something?" Worry on your face visible from miles away. Maybe he did have to turn his head so he couldn't see your pouty face.
"Tuna tuna." He looked back at you pointing to his lips. "Yeah, I was about to kiss you goodbye for the mission but you turned away! Look, Toge I have to go. I don't wanna go without having you kiss goodbye." Your clear fidgeting indicates how much you really had to go.
"Tuna mayo. . ." He looked to the side. "I really don't have the time to talk. ." You said, He looked at you pointing to his lips and the side of his face. When you furrowed your eyebrows he showed you his phone. Notes are already open as you read it. "Why won't you kiss my lips? You've been doing it for the past month and I don't know why... Do you wanna break up or something?"
When you read the last sentence your eyes widened. "No! It's not like that," You chuckled. "I just remembered how you said you were insecure about the marks on your face and I thought maybe kiss it once in a while. But I've actually grown to like kissing your marks over the past month and I couldn't stop. . ." You fidget with your hands behind your back.
"But if you want me to I will!" You shook your hands in front of him. "Okaka" He shook his head. "So it's okay?" You smiled softly at him. "Shake." He walked to you and pecked your lips. Mmm, not gonna lie that made you blush so much you had to leave immediately. "Bye, Toge!" You slide out the door.
"I can die peacefully now. ." He shrugged, sitting down on his bed. when the quietness got a bit loud, your words started sinking into him making him blush profusely and a bit tensed up. When he couldn't take it anymore he groaned into his pillow and he was pretty sure everyone heard him.
Tumblr media
ᯓ★ Sorry, I'm like really whipped for him and stuff. Anyway, Thank you for reading<3 | Masterlist
850 notes · View notes
devilfic · 1 year ago
Text
❝late-bloomer❞
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.
a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha
Tumblr media
Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"
You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.
You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."
No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.
But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."
"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."
"I'm serious, Pete."
He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."
"How did it feel? Do you know?"
"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."
Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.
You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."
You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.
A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"
"Hm?"
"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."
Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"
A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.
You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.
But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.
At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.
Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.
But it wasn't laughing you worried about.
"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.
Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."
Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.
Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.
"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"
There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."
Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"
"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."
"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.
You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.
It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."
"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."
You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."
You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.
Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."
It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."
"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"
"I really don't want to. Move."
"Why are you shutting me out?"
"Because I want to go home. Move."
"Is it because of what I said?"
"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."
The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.
Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.
"I'll see you later, Pete."
You let his front door shut on its own.
Tumblr media
It hasn't been great.
What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.
You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.
So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.
It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.
And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.
Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.
You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-
He's sitting in your kitchen.
Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.
You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."
Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."
Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"
"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.
You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."
"Busy avoiding your best friend."
You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.
The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.
"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."
Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.
"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."
"It's not a big deal?"
"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."
"So it doesn't matter at all."
"Correct."
"Right."
"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."
You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.
Suddenly, you're released.
You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."
You smile, "And I appreciate that."
Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"
"Zilch. Nada."
"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."
You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"
"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."
Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."
"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"
"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."
"And now we do."
"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"
He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."
You're six years old again.
You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.
You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.
And you're thinking... you start thinking something.
You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.
Peter's still staring at you, waiting.
Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.
But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.
You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.
When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.
Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."
Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.
Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."
He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."
You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.
Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.
You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.
You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"
You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"
Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."
"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."
"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"
"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."
"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."
Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"
His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."
You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.
Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."
"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"
"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"
You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."
You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.
This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.
So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.
Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.
You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"
You nod, speechless.
Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."
You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."
Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."
"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"
"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"
You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.
He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.
Did it? You stare up at Peter.
"We can try as many times as you want."
You might have a very different problem than you started with.
Tumblr media
taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes
2K notes · View notes
chuulyssa · 1 month ago
Text
a/n: idk what this is, just me trying to numb the pain of ace's death. this is based loosely on the hc that reader and luffy got "married" when they were seven. it's not a full-fledged fanfic tho, just a drabble. i'll post later, i'm just trying to get used to writing post-war arc atm
Tumblr media
𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 — luffy is very shaken up after the events of marineford. you must help him, as his 'wife'
𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 — fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 — luffy x reader ft. law, jinbei and simp!boa
Tumblr media
"How long are you going to keep visiting him?" The voice of Jinbei woke you from your trance. You had once again snuck into the room Luffy was kept in despite constant warnings from Law and your own injuries.
You turned to find Jinbei standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a concerned expression on his face. His large frame seemed to fill the space, weary eyes trailing down your wounds.
"As long as it takes," you said simply.
Jinbei stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "You also need to take care of yourself. You can't pour from an empty cup, you know."
You glanced back at Luffy, who lay there, still unconscious. The monitor next to him was beeping steadily, albeit a little roughly. He was covered in bandages from head to toe, and his eyes were shut and eyebrows knitted together as if he was dealing with a terrible nightmare. But then again, the past few hours had been nothing but nightmares, and the hours before that even more so. Luffy had been suffering ever since he stepped foot in Sabaody, and it showed in his current state.
"This is the least I can do," you looked down at your hands, then back at Luffy's face. Your fingers reached out to brush the stray strands of his hair away from his face involuntarily, and you adjusted your position on the bed. He always liked to cuddle with you.
"And what of your own injuries?" Jinbei asked gently. "What if you push yourself too hard?"
"If my Captain is fine, so am I," you insisted. "More than that," you lay your head next to his, your feet reaching out to his to rub together with them softly, "I don't want him to wake up alone. Not after... well, you get it."
Jinbei sighed, shaking his head slightly, but there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. "Luffy-kun wouldn't want you to sacrifice your well-being for him."
"I'll come out in some time. Let me be here for now, for my own sake."
Jinbei nodded, opening the door for himself. "Very well, then."
The beeping of the monitor grounded you to the bed. Luffy needed you. You couldn't abandon him then, not when he was trapped in the darkness of his own mind.
After some time had passed, you finally decided to step outside the room. You spotted Law sitting near the forest outside of the ship. There was a sort of distant look in his eyes. He seemed lost in his thoughts, but you couldn't see what he was looking at.
"Trafalgar D. Water Law," you approached him slowly, and his gaze shifted towards you. "Can we talk?"
He turned to you, a mixture of surprise and wariness in his expression. "Y/N-ya. You shouldn’t be out here. What if you overexert yourself?"
"I'm completely fine, doctor," you smiled lightly, a gesture he returned, albeit it seemed a bit forced because of the overall tired look he carried on his face. "You didn't answer my question."
"Of course," he replied, gesturing towards an empty place next to him.
You nodded gratefully, sitting down beside him. "Thank you," you said. "What I wanted to ask was, why did you, our rival, risk everything you had to save Luffy?"
Law’s gaze flickered to the sea, contemplating your question. "I thought I made it clear then. I wouldn't want a rival to die so soon."
"What's your motive?" You pressed.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, to say the truth, we're pirates. I assume you can guess why."
Before you could respond, a loud crash echoed from inside the ship, jolting both of you from the moment. Jinbei’s eyes widened, and he was off like a shot, heading back inside.
"A Navy attack?" You muttered, rushing after him, Law following your lead close behind.
As you reached the door to Luffy’s room, you saw debris scattered across the floor, splintered wood and twisted metal. Then, without warning, Luffy shot out of the room like a cannonball, bursting through the remnants of the door frame. He landed hard on the ground beside the deck, breathing heavily, eyes wild with a mix of confusion and rage.
Immediately, the three of you ran out to him. Law had said time and again that the slightest movement might cause his wounds to open up, and he may not survive. But to think that after what he had gone through, Luffy would be able to sit quietly in one place was foolish.
"Y/N!" Luffy’s voice rang out, raw and desperate. He looked around as if the entire world was closing in on him, a battle present only behind the closed doors of his mind. "I need to get out! I can't— stay here!"
But he didn’t seem to see or hear you. His breaths were coming out in frantic bursts. He was in a full-blown panic, eyes darting around as if he was still trapped in the chaos of Marineford. Jinbei and Law quickly approached to stop his antics.
Luffy didn't respond when Jinbei shouted at him. He didn't respond when his arms and feet were tugged at. He didn't respond when the Heart Pirates attempted to drag him back to stop his rampage. With one last look at you, he made his way into the enclosed forest, splitting trees from their roots in a hurry to get away from prying eyes.
The forest echoed with the sound of splintering wood as Luffy rampaged through the trees. Branches cracked and fell as he punched wildly wherever his heart told him to.
"Luffy-kun!" Jinbei called.
But Luffy didn’t hear him. He continued to lash out, tearing roots from the ground as if he could uproot the pain inside him. You stood at the edge of the chaos, heart racing as you watched your captain spiral further into darkness. "Luffy," you said quietly, voice and sound numbed from the tears that clouded your vision. "That's enough."
Luffy paused, muscles tense and trembling, before his eyes finally locked onto Jinbei’s. "Is it true?" his voice broke. "Did Ace really die?"
Jinbei nodded slowly and sorrowfully. "Yes, Ace is dead."
The world around you seemed to freeze as the realization hit Luffy like a tidal wave. His face contorted with agony, and a heart-wrenching cry burst forth from his lips. "ACE!" The sound reverberated through the trees like a haunting echo.
His frantic energy seemed to dissipate, and he turned to you. His cheeks were wet with all the tears he shed, and his eyes were glistening with more. He stumbled toward you, collapsing to his knees before you.
Without hesitation, he engulfed you in a tight embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. The world around you faded away as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could. "I can't lose you too!" he sobbed, voice muffled against your skin. "Not like Ace!"
You shook your head. "I'm not going anywhere without you."
"Ace said the same thing!" He buried his face into your chest and began crying once more, and you only tightened your hold on him. You kissed the top of his head, and his frantic movements seemed to rest.
Sometime later, the Heart Pirates left with the arrival of Rayleigh, and Jinbei engaged in a conversation with the latter. But then the air shifted again, this time charged with a different kind of energy. Boa Hancock emerged, striding into the clearing with a confidence that instantly commanded attention. Her long hair flowed behind her like a dark cloud, and a massive spread of food was arranged delicately in a large cart before her.
"I have returned with food for you, my h-hus-husband," she stuttered when she made eye contact with Luffy, and an old woman beside her sighed in apparent defeat.
"You can't even make eye contact with him, and you call him your husband," she said, to which Hancock simply glared.
You raised an eyebrow at Luffy. "I didn't realize you married her. Is this the second wife then?"
"Second... wife?" Hancock's knees seemed to give out, and with a hand on her chest, she landed on the ground, seemingly in agony.
"I feel bad for you," you said teasingly.
Hancock shot you a glare, but it lacked the venom you expected. "This is no joke! Luffy needs to eat!" Her tone was sharp, though her focus remained solely on Luffy.
Jinbei chuckled from where he stood, his hands raised defensively as he caught sight of the feast Hancock had brought. "There's no need to scold me for eating. I'm merely replenishing my strength."
"Just a little! You always eat too much!" Hancock scolded, quickly handing him a single piece of fruit, then ignoring you entirely as she focused her attention back on Luffy.
"You should eat, Luffy," Jinbei said loudly, glancing at Hancock. "Eating is living!"
Luffy placed a shaking hand on a piece of meat, then began to put it in his mouth, when, suddenly, he stopped, and glanced at you with concern.
"Why aren't you eating, Y/n?" He asked.
Before you could respond, Hancock seemed to relent, her eyes darting between the two of you. "Fine! You, over there," she pointed at you with her face in the sky, as if looking down at you. "You can have a bite. Just one, though!”
Luffy grinned widely, grabbed the piece of meat from Hancock's collection and turned to you. He shoved the food into your mouth, laughing as he watched your eyes widen in shock. "Eat up! You need to get better!"
Hancock's expression turned to one of horror as she realized what was happening. "No! Luffy, don't—" she started, but it was too late.
You swallowed quickly, glancing at Hancock, who looked torn between irritation and disbelief. Luffy simply beamed. "My first bite goes to you! I can't let you starve." He took another piece and offered it to you.
With a chuckle, you took a bite from his hand. Hancock sighed, her annoyance softening only when she saw how much Luffy seemed to enjoy this moment. "Don't get too used to it, you. I'll be the one taking care of him."
You smiled at her, and her irritation seemed to peak. Glancing at Luffy, who was still intent on feeding you, you said to her, "I think he has already made his choice clear."
Tumblr media
404 notes · View notes
squiddy-god · 3 months ago
Text
dorm leaders and a chubby s/o
Tumblr media
As a chubby guy my self I absolutely love Chubby readers, this was written in the early days when I wasn't writing all my readers implied to be chubby- dark times I know- since I am almost done with restoration ⚠︎REQUEST ARE OPEN⚠︎ please send in request, my navigation post has links to anything you would need! And if you don't wanna request you can always just chat! Anon is always open
CW : fluff, chubby readers supremacy
Riddle 
Riddle lives you no matter what! 
You being chubby does not affect him at all, besides your super soft and good for cuddles
Will not tolerate slander on your name weather from yourself or others 
Gets really angry when people comment rude things about you 
Isn't one for PDA but he'll hold your hand, especially when your insecure 
Lowkey loves your hugs sm because gosh your just so amazing 
You make him so red in the face aksbsosndhskebje like how can you be so cute 
You can always tell who was talking smack because they will have riddles collar thing and will avoid your gaze 
And the screaming from riddle 
Very soft with you 
Tumblr media
Azul 
He knows exactly how you feel when you feel insecure
Azul is very understanding because he also used to be chubby
Loves your hugs so much because your warm and soft ✨ 
If you let him lay his head on your thighs he would probably die on the spot 
Seriously he loves to rest his head on your nice plush thighs 
Talk shit get hit, or in this case, hunted for sport by two very tall eel Bois
Actually gets angry when people mermer about you because oof that shit hits close to home
Really good at comforting you because he says all the things he wishes he was told
Always compliments you ❤
Tumblr media
Leona 
Literally not a fuck in sight 👀 he gives no shits
You are good for naps tho
Loves to lay on your tummy and sleep for hours 
Thinks your such a cute little herbivore
Ur a snack ❤
When your down and sad he'll legit just pull you into his lap and cuddle tf out of you ✨ 
Has heard people talk smack about your weight and it always irks him 
Probably gave someone a black eye about it
Not the best at comforting you but he'll tell you that those people are just assholes and not worth your time 
Tumblr media
Kalim 
Aksnakamdbsks 𝕐𝔼𝕊 𝕐𝔼𝕊 𝕐𝔼𝕊
Loves you so much!! Everything, from your cute cheeks to your soft hugs and adorable tummy
Am I biased? Extremely. Does that change the fact that I think kalim would ADORE a chubby s/O?? Not at all
Always wants hugs from you because your soft and warm and make his heart go brrrrrrr
Always gives you the most heartfelt compliments 
If your insecure about the close you were then he'll let you know just how much he loves anything you put on 
Gets legitimately confused and mad when someone talks bad about you and has no shame in asking what there problem is
Really good at comforting you and will cuddle you while calling you cute pet names 🥺
Tumblr media
Vil
😤👏body👏positive 👏vil 👏
Vil firmly believes that just because your chubby doesn't mean that your not beautiful and adorable 
👏all bodys are gorgeous 👏 
Always seems to pick clothes that look fabulous on you and also make you feel comfortable
Won't admit it out loud but he loves your plump cheeks and tummy 
Pitches your cheeks Affectionately 
Someone : *talks shit about you* 
Vil : rook hold my teira 
Literally has 0 patience for someone slandering your name and putting you down 
Will fight 
Probably likes to trace any stretch marks you may have and tell you your beautiful/handsome/gorgeous
Also won't let you put yourself down 
Tumblr media
Idia
Your so cute he couldn't even look at you without blushing, even from behind his tablet, seeing your chubby cheeks in HD was a 1 hit k.o 
Once your together he's pretty comfy around you (and probably only you lmao) and oh boy does he want ✨cuddles ✨
Your like perfect for cuddles, your soft, warm, plush, adorable, don't fight him on this you can't change his stubborn mind, and yes he has a PowerPoint on why he's right
You'll be cuddling and suddenly he'll get the wildest, toothy grin and squish your tummy or pitch your cheeks 
Immediately blushes and shys away 
Sometimes he'll just rant/ramble about how cute you are as if he's talking about one of his hobbies (a.k.a talking at light speed and info dumping for hours) 
Someone : *talks shit about you* 
Idia : *about to roast them both figuratively and literally* 
Ortho : * pulls out magic laser* 
Idia knows what it's like to be bullied and it makes him angry to see people treat you like that 
Get you your favorite snacks and has you sit in his lap and game with him to comfort you (and lets u win Mario kart) 
Tumblr media
Malleus 
Oh absolutely
Something about you, his chubby little human, makes his heart go brrrrr
He's so curious and he likes to poke and squish your tummy and thighs (lovingly) 
Takes any and all opportunities to lay his head on your lap 
Behind closed doors he's a cuddle feind 
Stairs at you lovingly from across the room 
Gives you lots of small complements because they just came to him and he's like "haha gotta tell y/n that! " 
I'd recommend not talking shit about you because malleus is not having ✨any of it✨ 
Legit gets so angry when people badmouth you because he just doesn't understand why they would 
But they won't be talking for long that's for sure
꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚
630 notes · View notes
ffsg0jo · 6 months ago
Text
tw: hurt/no comfort , chapter 261 spoilers , major character death -- inspired by @sttoru so please check their account out !!
i am taking requests and writing fics and matchups for gaza. check the linked post out to find out more !!
Tumblr media
your shrieks could be heard echoing throughout the whole entire complex. everyone in the medical room pointedly refused to meet your gaze, knowing what had to be done. but you couldn't accept this as your reality. you wouldn't.
"please," you screamed, tears and snot running down your face, hair tangled and a complete mess.
you couldn't make anything out with your blurry eyes except the bloodied, stitched up figure laying on the table in the centre. the sight of your husband would haunt you for the rest of your life, image engraved into your eyelids.
"shoko, please, you can't do this to him, to either of them, please, please give him some decency." your hands grab the woman's as you plead and beg her. shoko only looks away, her eyes full of pity.
the exhaustion and dehydration catch up to you, and your body collapses into a bundle at her feet. your sobs only get louder as you grab at your best friends' ankles, gasping out a litany of "please shoko, don't." you couldn't breathe, the knot in your stomach pulling tighter and tighter.
she doesn't have it in her heart to look at you or push you away.
your sadness gives way to anger. anger towards the higher-ups. anger towards the fact that your husband couldn't even rest in peace after death. used as nothing but a weapon and tool in life and beyond death. anger towards the compliance of your peers and students.
you didn't care about the consequences. you just wanted your satoru back. would the child in your womb suffer the same way? you didn't even have the chance to tell satoru of their existence before the whole world turned upside down.
"he deserves to be buried," your shrill voice cut through the silence once more. you find the strength to stand up on shaky legs as you wipe the tears from your eyes. it's not long before they're filled once more, but you got a good look at everyone's solemn, teary faces. annoyance surges through your body.
"why is no one saying anything? this isn't humane, this isn't right."
"it's what he wanted," shoko responds, her voice small but unwavering. as though she was trying to convince herself what she was doing was right. her feelings could come later, but for now she needed to be strong.
you fall silent at her words, sniffing and trying to swallow back your sobs. of course he did. always the sacrificial lamb your satoru. never having a moment of peace except when he was in your arms, away from the monstrosity that was the sorcerer world.
"suguru would never have stood for this," the whisper of his name on your lips had shoko's head snapping to you. everyone else looking between you both nervously.
"suguru would never have allowed this to happen." you repeat, voice strengthening. you knew your best friend would've fought tooth and nail with you.
"you think i want to do this (name)?, i have no choice, it's our only chance!"
"you always have a choice, shoko. you always have one! yuuta's only 17, don't do this to him, please."
"and have him die?"
"death would be a mercy compared to whatever the fuck this is!"
shoko's words die on her lips. she knows you're right, but they both made their choices, and it was all for the greater good. she hated seeing you, her best friend, so hysterical. but her hands really were tied. shoko had to stay strong.
it's silent for a minute or two, save for your stifled sobs and sniffing. you could only stare at the lifeless body of your husband. even in death, he managed to look so ethereal and otherworldly.
you step towards his body, softly brushing the hair off his forehead. tears drip down onto his face, curving down the apples of satoru's cheek. he's cold to touch, so different from how he normally felt, always running hot. you kiss his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids. his lips.
your quivering lips try to breathe warmth back into him. instead, his coldness seeps through you. you turn your eyes to shoko once more. you've never felt so weak and helpless.
"i just want his body to mourn, shoko, please. i'm not asking for much, i just want his body to bury. i want his body to be his," your voice cracks as you speak. "he deserves that much at the very least, his child deserves that much."
you hear small gasps from the people around you, registering your words. a newfound sadness and bitterness settles deep into their bones.
"i- i can't (name), i'm sorry." tears start to fill shoko's eyes, and you know you're fighting a losing battle.
you withdraw yourself from his body, and you attempt to stand up straight. you gently lift his hand to press against your womb.
the child growing inside of you may never feel the warmth of their father's touch, but satoru's love transcended time and death. he was selfless in the way he gave everything to you and for his loved ones.
"wait for me satoru," you whisper, sofly rubbing his lifeless hand pressed against you with one hand and his icy, hardened cheek with the other. his coldness settled into your body, making you shiver uncontrollably. a fresh new wave of tears run down your face.
it was a privilege to have been able to love him and an even greater honour to mourn him. you would carry his love inside of you, deep within the marrow of your bones, for as long as you lived.
"wait for us, my love."
Tumblr media
i am taking requests and writing fics and matchups for gaza. check the linked post out to find out more !!
© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.
699 notes · View notes
deathofacupid · 6 months ago
Text
dude (blurb) | jake peralta
Tumblr media
summary: "dude" but romantically.
warnings: none.
pairing: fem!reader x jake peralta (friends to lovers)
word count: 0.8k+ words
Tumblr media
"okay, but i'm serious! you have to try it, it's literally amazing."
"i was gonna take your word for it, but i remembered it's you... so, no."
"dude," he whined, a soft smile adorning his lips.
"dude," you say back, same tone.
"fine, fine, what if i make you one? that's, like, no work required. y'know minus chewing."
"jacob jeffrey peralta, i am not, not even on my deathbed, trying pickles with ice cream. that's just a new level of gross."
"but charles approved it!"
"why on earth would that affect whether or not i try it?"
"y'know, i have no clue. i'm getting desperate."
"i can see that."
"dudeeee," he kicks his feet on the floor as he's sitting next to you on the couch. die hard is playing on the tv in his apartment, but the two of you have seen it so many times, you practically have it memorized by heart.
and why would you ever watch die hard when jake's sitting right there?
between you and yourself, you know which you'd rather watch. okay, "watch" sounded creepy.
you're laying on his lap as he's looking down at you, pouting.
you roll your eyes, but it's all fun. "dudeeee."
truth be told, you're sure you can handle the odd food combo, but teasing him and drawing this out is so much more fun. god, you really are in love with him.
"pretty, pretty, please? with- with, like, seven cherries on top?"
"just seven?" you pretend to be offended.
"i'm a brokie, the best i can do is eight." jake runs a hand through your hair, it's so comforting.
you sigh, "all right."
"to the cherries or the pream?"
"the- the what now?"
"pickles. ice cream. pickles and ice cream. pream? yeah, you know what, that's... that's not it. doesn't roll of the tongue great."
"oh, yeah. that, and it sounds like an std."
"good point. i'm gonna assume you meant the... cream... pi... creampi-"
"i'm gonna stop you right there."
he nods quickly. "right. what about cream-"
"not if it starts with 'cream', dude."
"icickles?"
"n-"
"piccream!"
"if i try your 'dish'," you air quote, "will you stop trying to come up with names."
"maybe."
you give him a look, and he amends, "yes. maybe. i pledge to do my best." jake salutes you, then pokes your check. you scowl, swatting him away and sitting up.
"lead me to your kitchen."
"sure. it's five steps that-a-way," he says, pointing to the kitchen that is quite exactly five steps away. like a true gentleman, jake scoops you - through which you protest ("dude!") - and then (after six steps, actually [wow, his apartment is slightly bigger than hypothesized]) sets you on the counter.
"i feel like you should know that i'm perfectly capable of walking on my own."
"but why would you when i'm here?"
"dude."
"dude," he replies, grabbing the ice cream from the freezer.
"how are you even supposed to eat this? like... spread it? o-or dip?"
jake grabs a spoon and scoops some ice cream onto it. "watch, young jedi."
"i don't-"
"shh, i'm yoda-ing." he spreads it on the pickle and shoves it in your face. slowly, you sniff it. it doesn't smell... like anything bad, really.
it doesn't look great though. "is it too late to go back?"
"yes." after a second, he groans, "gah, i'll go first." he takes a bite, and you make a face.
"mmm... you shouf knodis is-"
"jake, swallow."
he grins and you furrow your brows. "what- oh. oh! jake!" your cheeks heat up so quickly, for a number of reason. because, yeah, obviously the second one sounds better.
also, of course that's what he instantly goes to.
"oh, my god. are you twelve or thirty-three? because i honestly can't tell."
"dude, i'm well-versed. you wouldn't understand."
"i'm... twenty-five. wo-wouldn't i-?"
"schematics."
"yeah, okay, bud."
"dude," he corrects.
"right," you murmur, "dude."
you don't really realize how he's leaning in, the way if you do too, your lips would touch. you falter, and you can feel warm breath minglingwith yours.
jake cups your cheek and you lean into it. you aren't sure what's about to happen, though it should be obvious. but with jake, you're nervous, afraid that this isn't really happening.
you have no clue what he's done with the pickle, and you have no clue why that's what's on your mind right now.
he squeezes your waist gently, a way of asking for permission. you nod, and at first, it's just a brush. just a brush of his lips against yours, feeling for some type of sense that this is happening. that it's reality.
you press back against him, your hand on top of his, the one on your face. your other hand blindly feels for his hair, tugging against his soft, brown curls.
when you pull away, you're breathing hard. not because of the kiss, because it wasn't aggressive or any longer than twenty seconds, but because of the adrenaline of it all.
"dude," he breathes, and you giggle.
"y'taste like pickles. and ice cream. it's actually not that bad," you admit. "at least not on you."
"dude," jake repeats, dumb-founded at what just happened.
you peck him again, right on the lips, "dude."
482 notes · View notes
churipu · 7 months ago
Note
hii i hope ur midterms r going well !! ive binge read so many of ur work n js wanted to say theyre so amazing (´꒳`) i wanted a request for toji + any other character of ur choice x reader who stays up late n has difficulty sleeping (fluff),, thank u !! 🤍
𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗔𝗠 !
Tumblr media
────── 𝕴 . featuring. toji fushiguro x reader
────── 𝕴 . warnings. cursing, and mentions of toji being soft, i love him.
note. hi nonnie! thank you so much, you're too nice to me, and yes, my midterms went well! it's been so long since i've done the requests in my inbox, which is the sole reason to why i have closed my ask box so i could finish them all! although, the next time i open them, i won't accept requests for a bit. sorry for those who have visited my inbox and have waited for a long time for your piece to be done. // anyways, new theme = new layout!
Tumblr media
"why aren't you in bed?"
toji's voice came out hoarse — he cleared his throat and approached you, sitting himself on the couch despite his heart caressing his ears, pleading for him to go back inside the bedroom and just lay back down on the bed.
the cotton surface of the couch dipped just as he practically threw himself down on it, holding back a loud yawn. you raised a brow, shoving the spoonful of cereal you mixed with milk five minutes ago, just before toji emerged from your shared room.
small yellow chips of cereal that had grown soggy, seeping in the white tasteless liquid dispersed into a mush inside your mouth. they weren't even solid as they're supposed to be, "can't sleep, you?"
"you weren't there."
old habits die hard. that's how the saying goes, and you undeniably agreed to that. the night is an old friend to you, never did your eyelids felt heavy when you were supposed to be in bed, asleep. it's not healthy, you're killing yourself doing this.
"you're such a baby," you mutter out, staring into space, feeling your eyes slowly dissociate — jaw moving in a slow motion, biting into wet and mush before you swallow them.
"y/n, it's three am, y' can't keep doing this stuff," toji scratches his nape, leaning his head back onto the couch rest.
despite your eyes staring into nothing, you could hear his words pretty well. in fact, toji had repeated the same words countless of times that you found yourself engraving it into your mind, "i know, i can't sleep. i know it's not healthy, if i could stop it, i would."
"you're scooping nothing, y/n."
this time, his statement pulled you back into reality. looking down to see that you were indeed scooping no soggy cereal chip, nor a drop of milk onto your spoon. chuckling out lightly, you stood up and sauntered over to the kitchen, dumping what was left of your cereal pieces into the sink.
"you should go to bed," you tell him, wiping your wet hands onto your shirt — crumpling up the fabric to soak them in the access waterdrops lacing your fingers, "'ts late."
toji scoffs lightly, "shouldn't i be saying that shit to you?"
no mistakes there. you emitted out a soft sigh, "i'm fine, i'll be back in bed in a few . . ." toji raises a brow skeptically. he never forgot the last time you said that, he woke up alone on the bed — and you were wide awake on the couch, watching the morning news.
"hell no. it's two of us or nobody goes back to bed, 'm not kidding." he mutters out, not realizing how harsh his voice came out as.
brows furrowed deeply, he looks at you. your disheveled (h/c) hair going all point in a compass points, the visible dark shade of exhaustion coloring under your eyes — and the light creases on the corner of your beautiful, tired eyes.
"can you not?" you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose; honestly, you can't blame him at all, he's just a worried boyfriend and you were being stubborn.
"can i not what? worry about my own—" he stops mid sentence and shakes his head. toji was never a man of words, he doesn't express his affection to you through words. he's had moments, not a lot, but he's had them.
toji's a man of actions. he thinks that words mean nothing, which you knew, "'m tired, but i can't sleep, okay? i'll just hang out here a few more minutes and i'll come back to bed. you don't have to stay awake just because 'm awake."
"just shut up."
you stare at him, surprised. parting your lips, you try to speak again but toji beats you to it.
"can't i worry about you or something? you're my partner," he said, his then exhausted eyes now fully refreshed. a tinge of frustration coloring his greenish iris.
your eyes darted around for a bit, searching for words to spout out as a reply, "you don't have to worry about me, 'm fine. i promise. so, can you please just go to bed and stop worrying about me?"
"fuck that," he stands up, with heavy footsteps he darted towards you.
his figure grew in your view as he closes the distance between you and him. with a quick motion, he threw you over his shoulder, letting you dangle over his shoulder. at this point, you were too exhausted to even move a limb so you just laid there, not having the cell to even open your mouth.
toji walks over to the bedroom and he sat you down gently on the bed. on most occasions, he would throw you onto the bed playfully — but this was serious. he's pissed, and you're pissed.
"sleep."
you crane your neck upwards, face scrunching into one of annoyance, "i just told you that i can't—"
"try."
shaking your head, you said, "i can't, i've tried."
his finger brushed over your hair, smoothing them back down. he didn't reply to you. frankly, he finds it hard to be in the current position — as a kid, he was taught to never show his weakness. he grew up in a household full of so much hate that he forgot what love is.
here you were. vulnerable, in a weak state that toji has seen a lot before throughout your relationship. if this was anyone else, toji swore he'd tell them to suck it up because life isn't always what they think it ought to be.
but this isn't anyone else, it's you. y/n. the only person toji has showed his own vulnerable sides to — it's like a punch to his gut when he saw a bit of his younger self in you. he had nobody, and nobody had him.
it's different this time, it's not about him anymore. it's about you. you had him, and he had you.
toji inhaled sharply, his large hands slipping underneath your pits as he gently pushes you up. your feet dangled as he then pulled you into him, his right hand traveled onto the hollow of your back — and his left hand prepped your legs around his torso.
you felt like a child, "what're you doing?"
"shut up," he mutters out into the crook of your neck, "just try to get some sleep."
he pressed his lips onto your skin tenderly, making you shudder at the sudden contact — but you liked it. toji didn't stop, with an arm around your waist, and another under your thighs, he held you close to him.
warm and shallow breaths blew onto your skin like warm lights, it didn't tickle, you bury your head into the crook of his neck. copying his actions, "'m sorry."
toji grunted, "for?"
"just . . . everything," you murmur out.
his grip around your waist tightened, "'ts not somethin' to be sorry of, you can't control it. so just try and get some sleep," he muttered out, rocking side to side gently.
a faint smile appeared on your lips as you pulled your head back slightly, "you're too nice to me."
"don't get used to it," toji rolled his eyes.
"i love you too," you planted a kiss onto his lips briefly before returning your head into the crook of his neck, letting him lull you to sleep for the night.
Tumblr media
© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE.
589 notes · View notes
curly-my-beloved · 10 days ago
Text
“And I can't exist without you” Curly x Reader
youtube
i. i've been waiting by my grave
waiting for you to rescue me, my love
come back from the dead
You'd look up at the night sky often. Each night, even. Especially now. Especially these days.
By now, it was routine. You'd go to the balcony of your house (one that he bought) and use the ladder to climb on the rooftop so you could lay down on it, looking at the stars.
... why was the ladder there again?
Oh, that's right. He left it there. He put there for you.
So you could look at him.
Oh, what a fool that man was. And yet, you loved him so damn much... so, so much it hurt. Especially now.
Now that he was gone.
He was supposed to be back a year ago. And yet... he disappeared. And since you didn't get to marry him, they would use that damn technicality against you.
You tried everything, but nothing worked. Not even a lawsuit.
You were stuck. Stuck with a ring on your finger...
And without him.
ii. and i can't exist without you
i can't exist without you
You felt tears falling down your cheeks as you looked at the full moon and all the stars around it. You could almost hear him. Almost feel him.
You remembered it all too well. Your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you. You remembered his small chuckles as you confused the constellations. He always seemed to know all the stars so well.
It was so sweet.
You remembered smiling and giggling at the child-like wonder in his eyes. In moments like this, all your worries seemed to fade away. It was just you, him and the night sky.
It was not the same anymore.
It was almost like phantom pain where you couldn't feel his body against yours.
It was almost piercing just how silent the world was without his voice and heartbeat.
It was almost colorless without those damn bright blue eyes of his looking at you lovingly when you woke up.
God, you missed him.
iii. you are my cure
in this infected world
and i can't do this without you
i'm dying here without you
Curly didn't know when he woke up. One moment, he was frozen, drifting in space on the Tulpar, all his crewmates dead... the next, there was a team of doctors above him.
He wasn't sure what was going on. His mind was too hazy, still trying to handle everything that happened to him. To his crew.
His mind kept going from them to you. He never forgot you.
Even with how fuzzy his mind was, clouded by the constant pain he felt, you always remained in his mind and heart. Sometimes he even hallucinated in his agony, seeing you sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his face and hushing him with the sweetest, softest whisper.
You'd promise him everything would be alright. Talk about your plans. You'd remind him about the silly cat or dog debate that never got to reach a conclusion.
You'd wear the beautiful ring he got you, talking to him about the wedding you two were planning once he comes back home.
He'd sob every night, prying to once day get to hold you in his arms again.
The only real cure for his pain. The light in the dark.
God, he missed you.
iv. i don't belong here without you...
Hope is the mother of all fools, and yet, it always dies last.
Your hope never died.
Almost two decades passed since he disappeared.
And yet, as your hair greyed and your skin started to lose it's youthful glow, you never lost hope.
You kept waiting.
You'd rather die a widow than even think about loving another, after all.
And yet, one day, you got a call from a hospital hours away from your home.
They asked for your name and if you knew a man called Curly. Shocked, yet hopeful, you told them that yes, you were engaged to Grant Curly.
He was finally found.
v. i wanna lie with your bones forever...
You'd recognize those god damn bright blue eyes of his anywhere.
From the moment his one remaining eye met yours, you know it was him. As damaged as he was, it was him. Curly. The love of your live.
You had no idea how long you were there with him, holding his burned face and leaving the gentlest, most love filled kisses on it as relieved tears streamed down your face.
You'd rest your forehead against his chest, finally feeling his heartbeat again after all those years, hearing his the fast yet steady rhythm between your sobs.
You could finally feel his arms around you again, even if they were much skinnier, with stumps instead of the big hands you always loved to hold.
It was him. The man you loved so much.
And as you looked into his eye, that beautiful, gorgeous blue eyes of his...
You could see your world was slowly regaining its colors.
Just like his world was slowly regaining the light.
You were together again.
God, you've both missed this so much.
200 notes · View notes
echobx · 4 months ago
Note
please tell me about rafe with short reader 🤲🏻
-🪩
author's note: this was meant to just be a quick blurb but I got carried away... a happy oopsie on my end ig. (and after the first version got nuked by tumblr I was smart enough to do a select all and copy, bc when I hit save it nuked this one again, but at least I didn't lose it this time. I also don't know why I wrote this in one big block of text basically but yeah) not edited!
warnings: smut, p in v (unprotected), public sex, light exhibition kink
Tumblr media
"You look even smaller with that pout on," Rafe murmurs, and your eyebrows furrow. "You love my pout." You toddle over to him, looking up at him with big eyes, "what happened?" "Some guy at work said some shit," he sighs. "What kind of shit?" you ask, snaking your arms around his waist and laying your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as his arms find their place around you, pulling you even tighter into him. "Disgusting shit. That you look more like my child than my girlfriend." He huffs and brushes over your hair, "should've just carved his face in right then and there." You spend the night soothing him and making him forget all about the incident, but a plan has formed in your mind, and you like it too much to let it go.
Two days later, you find yourself walking into the office building. Your sexiest dress on and a new lingerie set underneath, when you ask the front desk to let you go up. And once you're in Rafe's office, you start to clean up the desk, remove anything from it that will hinder your plan. "What are you doing here?" Rafe chuckles while walking in, and you turn to smile at him. "I missed you." "You missed me? After all I did this morning to ensure that you know how much I love you?" He grins as he pulls you in his arms and you nod. "Missed you so much," you whisper while leaning up and pulling him into a kiss. And while his lips are locked with yours, you can't help but think back to that morning, how he had woken you up with his head pressed between your thighs, making you lose yourself over and over again until he was satisfied with his work. "I miss you so much because of what you did this morning," you hush and take your hands behind your back to unzip your dress, letting it glide down your body and pool at your feet. "Fuck," Rafe drags out the curse and lets his eyes roam over your in lace wrapped body. His hands grip at your ass before picking you up and sitting you down on the table. "I know this is a very stupid idea, but by God, if I don't fuck you right now I might die," he sighs and lets his thumb run over your hard nipple. "Good," you giggle and open his pants. "Have I got you worked up since earlier? Hmm?" Rafe hums, eyes fixed on your soaked slip. "So very much," you agree and circle the tip of his hard cock with your fingertips before taking them up and licking off his precum that is smeared on them. "You're gonna be the death of me, baby," Rafe groans and pushes you to lie, thrusting into you in a harsh motion. He's rough and fast, holding onto your hips and making you cry out with how deep he's inside you. "Feels so good. Need more," you cry out, and he pushes down on your stomach, thrusting against his own hand. "More? Baby, you should've grown taller if you wanted all of me inside you," he taunts playfully and you moan loudly. "It's so big," you cry out, and he fucks you harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin; moans, and grunts and whimpers; the table rocking over the wooden floor. You know the whole building is probably bearing witness to your filthy act, but you can care less. You want them to know, want them to hear how much more woman you are than any of them, because none of them will ever be able to handle the man that is Rafe Cameron. "Gonna knock you up so fucking good, sugar," he pants and goes to rub your clit, making you cum in a matter of seconds and following right after. His head finds it place on your sweaty chest as he grows soft inside you.
But the tranquility you shared for a few moments gets interrupted by Ward Cameron storming in and yelling, "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?! DOES THIS LOOK LIKE A FUCKING WHORE HOUSE TO YOU?!" Rafe had pulled out by then and his pants were back on. Brushing his hair back, he looked at his dad and shrugged, "if presidents can fuck their secretaries, I'm allowed to do the same to my wife." You look up at him in pure adoration, unable to move with the way your legs feel and how sore you are, but you are enamored by the fact that he called you his wife, although you hadn't even talked about the future too much. But he saw it with you, and that day just made it all the more clearer, because who else would be just as crazy as him but you.
Tumblr media
please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho
taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimocarz @hoe4sunarin @m2m2m2
334 notes · View notes