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#……. my feet would grow but the Shoe Is Not
spiderwarden · 2 months
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Not me listening to this and always imagining how when Karlach ( @infernaliscor ) chooses death, the scenario in my head is that she shoved Minthara away from her so she wouldn't burn up with her. Then Minthara crying outright as she crawls back over to her and pushes her hands into her ashes and collapses onto her knees. Staring down at what's left of her love, her darling love, and just cries before she barely has enough lucidity to gather as much of her ashes as she can into a leather pouch. Where she then has two swords made from them, two swords that she carries on her back as she goes into Avernus herself, just as she promised Karlach, and enters the blood wars to make Zariel pay for ever laying eyes on her. With Karlach protecting her back just as she did in life ... swords she will plunge into the Arch devil herself, still killed by Karlach even in death.
#[ 🕷️ ] —— musings#[ worse if she kills zariel ]#[ no matter how many years it takes ]#[ her daughter grows up- the home as she knows fades away fully etc ]#[ worse if as she sits on or near zariel's dead body she collapses on her knees again and turns her head back and screams ]#[ roars and then eventually it fades and she just cries because it did not kill her ]#[ worse if she feels purposeless because grief can kill elves remember that and she stands at the edge of a void or doom and stares#right into the pits and wishes to badly to find her love in oblivion and then she sucks in a breath of air ]#[ with Clive tied to her belt- with the heat of the swords made from Kar.lach's ashes ]#[ existing like k.arlach's hand on her shoulders and she remembers how she wanted life ]#[ remembers that she wouldn't want her to do this to herself and would want her live- and live FULLY and instead of looking into death#she turns away and leaves.. leaves the area.. leaves avernus. ]#[ and then as soon as her feet touch grass- she finally sees the world as k.arlach saw it when she first landed onto the coast ]#[ the world- after spending so many years in the Hells seeking vengeance- was suddenly brighter. ]#[ she could smell things.. feel the softness of the grass and the cool of the air and just..#sits by the river stretching her feet out and taking her shoes off to let it sit in the river ]#[ just as karla.ch was found when you first meet her - can eat and enjoy real food and water and drink. ]#[ understanding it now as she did all those years ago.. ]#[ purposeless now.. not knowing what to do now.. she returns to Bald.urs Gate. ]#[ and gets a house on the edge of the city .. just like k.arlach would have wanted and dreamed about. ]#[ welcome to my head everyone ]
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bibleofficial · 4 months
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i’ve been using those toe spacers for my tailors bunions & it’s like damn …. yall rly just walk like this ??
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schmweed · 1 year
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oflgtfol · 2 years
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Holy fuck my hands used to go ice cold and turn purple sometimes in high school too shannen used to joke that i had rigor mortis thats how absolutely dead and corpse like they would appear i would have to rub them to get the blood flowing again so they could turn normal again. apparently purple hands is a symtpom of pots
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eldritchmochi · 1 year
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i get a lot of really on point targeted ads on fb, including a ton of ads for clothing brands aimed specifically at transmasc and gnc folk who want to dress masc but dont fit into off the rack clothing meant for cis masc folk and im just
a solid four inches taller than your average transmasc dude so mens clothing off the rack tends to fit me better than womens clothing OR anything marketed towards transmasc folk specifically...........
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chxrryhansen · 7 months
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okay but rafe shamelessly peeking up your skirt is something so personal to me
omg omg wait s1 golf frat boy rafe x cutesy kinda bimbo reader??? COUNT ME IN. p.s- i have no idea how to play golf so i wrote my best interpretation😭
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you sat in rafes private golf caddy watching as he lined up his next shot, his backwards cap keeping his hair out of his eyes and his muscular legs spread wide as he takes the shot.
rafe had asked (told) you to come watch him play, he thought it would be a cute date idea for you both to get out of the house since it was way too hot to stay cooped up inside all day… when in reality he just wanted to show off his skills and impress his girl.
“rafeeeeey.” you whined in a high pitch tone.
he turns to look back at you with a sour expression, wiping the sweat from his brows with one arm, using the other to lean against his golf club. “quit distracting me. what dya’ want?” he pants in the summer heat.
“i’m boreddddd” you moan again, standing from your seat in the cabby and bouncing over to him.
his free hand reaches out to grip your face, smushing your cheeks together tight “what’ve i told you about the whining? daddy’s tryna’ play a game here, sweetcheeks.”
you look up at him with big puppy dog eyes “can you teach me? please rafey…i’m so bored just sittin’ here, daddy please.”
he lets out an irritated groan, knowing you were too ditzy to understand how golf works and way too uncoordinated to actually putt a ball. he looks back at you giving you a once over, a smirk appearing on his face.
“you know what? sure pretty girl, c’mere.”
you yelp with excitement, moving to stand infront of him, your short pink skirt barely reaching your thighs as you bounce over and your tits jiggling, practically spilling out of your tight shirt.
rafe stands behind you as he passes you the golf club, quickly showing you the correct way to hold it before he moves onto your position. kicking your feet apart and pressing down on your back with his thick fingers, forcing you to arch your back as he bites his lip, his cock already growing hard.
“that’s it baby, stay just like that. now, lift your arm up like this, and strike.” you beam at him while he instructs you before focusing on the ball.
you raise your arm holding the club tight before you strike it. not even noticing rafe bending down slightly, his legs still spread wide around your figure and his fingers lifting your short skirt, peeking at your cute, pink panties underneath, he lets out a low “fuckkk.” at the sight, not loud enough for you to notice seeming as you were concentrating.
“rafey! look! i hit it. look how far it went!” you gasp, raising one arm to block the sun as you search for the ball with your eyes.
“yeah babe, daddy’s super proud of you.” he mutters, not paying attention to a word you said, instead focusing on the slightly damp patch on your panties.
he brings his thumb to your pussy, rubbing over the soaked material. your panties beginning to stick to your cunt as he thumbs your sensitive slit.
you whimper in surprise, your head spinning to look at him in shock. “daddy! wh-what are you doing?!” you hush, eyes wide, looking around quickly to see if anybody had noticed what he was doing, which they hadn’t… yet.
rafe hushes you before pulling your skirt back down and giving your ass a harsh smack. lifting up from his bent knees and looking down at you with a large smirk.
“nice panties, baby. where’d you get em?” he asks rhetorically, a sly smile appearing on his face.
knowing for a fine fact he bought them, as he does everything else, your clothes, food, shoes. you name it, he bought it. because that’s what wealthy daddy’s like him do. and rafe is without question, wholeheartedly, your daddy.
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it’s downright pouring outside.
suguru rests on the living room couch, cooped up in a bundle of soft blankets, watching droplets ricochet against the windows. heavy, sharp, like the rain is trying to break into your apartment — a steady pitter patter that makes him feel at ease.
it’s cozy, he thinks. being indoors, safe and warm and dry, while the outside world is blanketed by gray. wearing baggy clothes, a pair of reading glasses, his hair tied up into a loose bun; slender fingers turning the pages of the new novel you gave him.
he thinks of you, and finds himself frowning.
suguru got home just before storm clouds gathered in the sky — but as far as he knows, you’re still outside. he’s memorized your comings and goings, what time you usually return home, the paths you tend to favour. as any attentive roommate should.
so he’s a little worried. usually, you’d be home by now. and you still haven’t replied to his messages.
tentatively, he reaches for the warm cup of tea on the coffee table, bringing the ceramic to his lips. sipping from the green, honeyed brew, letting the scent soothe his growing nerves. he shouldn’t be too high-maintenance; you’re a perfectly capable adult. if he nags at you all the time, you’ll just be weirded out. and the last thing he wants is to scare you away.
so it’s fine. you’re fine, he’s sure. there’s no need for him to freak out over your whereabouts. he needs to maintain his cool, calm exterior.
— suddenly, the click of a lock being turned.
suguru’s head whips towards the front door. a moment passes, and then he’s stumbling to his feet, untangling himself from the heap of blankets he’s burrowed into — gently setting the cup back on the table, fixing his hair, making sure he’s presentable — before making his way towards the hall.
and there you are. clumsily dragging the door open, stumbling inside, keys jingling as you step over the threshold; absolutely soaked. just as he feared.
”hey…”
you meet his gaze. panting softly, cheeks a little flushed, wet locks of hair sticking to your forehead and neck. disheveled, letting out a sheepish little laugh — gosh, why do you have to be so cute? — leaning down to pull your shoes off. you’re wearing a thin, white shirt. entirely drenched. 
suguru looks away, a heat sticking to his cheeks.
”hey,” you greet, a little out of breath. tossing your shoes away, tugging absently at your collar. ”god. i feel like a drowned rat.”
at that, he lets a little chuckle slip. shaking his head, taking a step back — careful not to let his gaze stray towards the soaked fabric of your clothing. ”why didn’t you call me? i would have picked you up.”
”well, i thought about it,” you hum, walking right past him, ”but i figured you’d still be at work.”
suguru frowns, ever so slightly, discontentment in his eyes. ”… they let me go early today. but you should have texted me, either way. what if you get sick?”
”i’ll be fineeee,” you slip on a grin, turning back to face him. ”just need a quick shower. don’t worry, okay?”
he narrows his eyes, playfully, enjoying the way your eyes crinkle in response. then he exhales, hands on his hips. feigning exasperation. 
”… fine, fine. need me to go get you a clean shirt?”
”ah. well...” you let out a wince, earning a tilt of his head. ”i haven’t done my laundry, in like… a week.”
a moment passes. suguru’s lips curl up, an exasperated exhale slipping from his lips. he gazes at you, ever so fondly, raising a brow. ”i asked you if you needed me to wash anything for you.”
”i know, but…” you scratch at the back of your neck, letting out a breathy sigh. ”i don’t want you to pull all my weight. we both live here.” now there’s a pretty little pout on your lips. it makes suguru want to run his thumb over the sensitive skin, soothe it away.
but he only clears his throat. 
”i don’t mind,” he answers, truthfully. ”i like doing laundry. you know that.”
”… still.”
his smile only grows, at your quiet mumble, something soft blooming in his eyes. he takes a step forward. ”we’ll see about laundry later. in the meantime… want to wear one of my shirts?”
the words have left his lips before he can think them through — maybe a little too eager. silently, he curses himself for being so forward. but you raise your head, meeting his amber eyes, blinking so sheepishly that he thinks he’d give you just about anything you could ask for.
”… is that okay?” 
”more than okay,” he reassures you, a smile on his face. ”i’ll get you something comfy.”
you quiet down, for a moment. still pulling at the collar of your shirt, making sure the thin fabric doesn’t stick to your soaked skin. ”… alright,” you exhale. ”that’d be great, then.”
a hum buzzes in his throat. suguru walks past you, towards the hallway leading up to his room, ruffling your wet hair in passing. his heavy palm on your head, a perfect fit. smiling to himself.
”got it. one second, okay?” 
behind him, you nod — but he can’t see it. walking into his room, rummaging through his closet, trying not to lose his mind at the idea of you wearing one of his oversized shirts. maybe a pair of sweatpants, maybe a tank top… he gulps at the thought. heartbeat accelerating, a jittery feeling in his throat.
he settles on a big, comfortable hoodie. bundling it up in his arms, before making his way back to where you’re still standing, still soaked, shivering a little. 
”here,” he hums, passing the bundle of soft fabric into your awaiting arms. you nuzzle into the pile, already looking comforted; warming his heart down to the marrow. he hopes you like the cologne he picked out, earthy and deep. a hint of cinnamon. ”now go take your shower, hm?”
”mm. thank you.” you give him a smile, cheeks still damp, a little flushed. ”you’re too nice to me.”
suguru resists the urge to frown. resists the urge to tell you that there’s no such thing, that you deserve every last drop of kindness he can wring out of his cramped-up heart. he knows he shouldn’t be too forward, but you’re making it difficult. you always make it so difficult.
(or maybe he’s just a weak, weak man.)
”oh, please,” he gives you a playful little roll of his eyes, sighing gravely. ”this is the bare minimum. we don’t want you catching a cold, do we?”
”we don’t,” you grin. ”i have a feeling you’d just end up feeding me soup all day.”
a chuckle flows from out his lips. he hopes it doesn’t come out as shaky as his heart feels, just at the thought — the idea of taking care of you like that. being allowed to tend to you, being trusted by you in that way. ”well, i am a chef. need to make sure i don’t get rusty, yeah?”
there it is, again. the crinkle of your eyes, that upturn of your lips, all things he finds himself constantly seeking — suguru exhales, somewhat in bliss. he might need to quit cigarettes for good, soon. it wouldn’t do for him to have more than one vice.
while you take your shower, your roommate lounges on the couch. or at least, he tries to — though his feet inevitably take him to your tiny kitchen, to the water cooker, to the cabinet with all his expensive tea bags. he picks out a nice, strong ginger brew. something to help boost your immune system. silently, drowsily, he pours water into a ceramic cup, stirs the slowly brewing tea with a honey-clad teaspoon. raindrops cascade against the window, and the faraway sound of thunder reaches his ears.
it’s cold outside, but warm and cozy in here. in the home you’ve made for yourselves. he’s really, really glad that he followed satoru’s advice — that he put out that advert, that the first person who reached out ended up being you. he’s happy to share a living space with you, these cozy leftover afternoons. he’s happy to have someone to brew tea for.
(what more could a man like him ask for?)
”um, suguru?”
he stiffens. ears perking up at the sound of your voice, that mellow little lilt — broken out of his syrupy stupor. after a moment, he turns around.
and his breath hitches in the back of his throat.
you’re standing there, right at the threshold separating the kitchen from the living room, hair a little damp from the shower — and you’re wearing his hoodie. it cascades down your frame, the hem of it ending right above your knees, sleeves rolled up to reveal your hands. that hoodie is baggy even on him, but you’re just drowning in the fabric. his heart feels like it’s about to burst, pupils wide as saucers.
suguru lets out a shaky sigh.
”jesus…”
a series of blinks. you tilt your head, like a confused puppy, glancing up at him with a doe-eyed look. fuck, he wants to bundle you up in his arms. he wants you to fall asleep on his chest, wants to keep you there forever. god, who thinks stuff like that?
(he needs to get a grip, and fast. he can already feel his ears growing hotter.)
”it looks… kind of ridiculous, doesn’t it?” you mumble, sheepishly, clouded with what he thinks must be shyness. cute. ”this isn’t really my size…”
suguru lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head, raven locks swaying with the movement. ”i can see that. looks good on you, though.”
”… does it?” you let your arms fall slack, at your sides, the softened fabric swallowing your hands entirely. he can’t even see the tips of your fingers. oh, how his heart aches — it’s squeezing so tightly he fears his chest might cave in, but all he can do is nod.
he turns around, again, absently clearing his throat. clinking the teaspoon against the rim of your cup, stirring idly. ”is it comfortable?”
”mhm!”
a warm smile. ”good.”
silently, you scoot closer, taking your rightful place beside him. resting your elbows on the counter, watching his movements, the flick of his long fingers. one of his rings catches on the ceramic, a quiet clang.
”here,” he hums, pushing the cup towards you. when you look up, his eyes are crinkled at the edges, warm and sweet, a melting pair of honeycombs. ”drink up.”
a moment passes. ”… you really are too sweet for your own good, you know that?” 
suguru grins. his heart blossoms a little more; petals sticking between the ridges of his ribs. it manifests as a delighted little chuckle, flowing out his throat.
”don’t thank me yet — there’s sushi for you in the fridge. they let us bring leftovers home again.”
”really? i can have some?”
suguru raises a brow. smiling, all the while. ”would i be offering otherwise?”
(you can have anything, he wants to say. i doubt i could say no. i’m a little weak, when it comes to you.
such embarrassing words.)
a heavy sigh escapes you, laced with relief. taking hold of the cup, raising it to your lips, sipping slowly. ”god, you’re the best. i’m starving.”
”haha… better eat, then, yeah?”
nod, nod. you give him another one of those giddy grins, putting your cup down, taking a step back. suguru can’t help but turn his head, to catch a glimpse of you — how cozy you look, waddling around in that big hoodie, hair a little tousled. humming softly to yourself, tapping the tips of your fingers against the handle of the fridge. it mashes well with the endless pitter patter against the windowpane. a purr of thunder echoes in the distance, and suguru feels at peace. hyacinths line the windowsill, the crinkle of a plastic container being rustled rings out across the room. he watches, listens, observes. wallowing in the feeling. 
domesticity. 
with a breathy, blissed-out exhale, his eyes fall shut. smile dripping with sweetness, barely contained. wishing on every single droplet that you’ll stick around a little longer than your lease allows.
”here,” you grin, stepping into his line of vision. handing him a plate full of sushi, all his favorite pieces. ”you eat up, too.”
suguru smiles.
”what would i do without you?”
(that’s a bridge he’ll worry about crossing another day.
for now, this is more than enough.)
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entitled-fangirl · 2 months
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The Warden's fears.
Cregan Stark x wife!reader
Summary: the reader is unable to give Cregan a child, and he reveals why.
Warning: talks of sex, childbirth, death, crying, guilt, etc
A/n: I've never seen anyone do this concept, so I gave it a shot!
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"My gods, what's the matter?"
Y/n sat on the foot on their bed, her eyes puffy and red with tears. She sniffled and wiped her eyes, "I didn't hear you enter, husband."
Cregan let out a light scoff, hating her answer. She only responded coldly when something greatly bothered her. He shrugged off his cloak, throwing it to the side, "That is not an answer."
She wiped her face again and her shaky voice broke, "What am I doing wrong?"
He tilted his head, "Doing wrong? My girl, what are you talking about?"
"Eleven months, Cregan. Eleven months and still no child."
Oh gods. 
Cregan felt his stomach drop to his feet. 
"I… I didn't know you wanted a child so desperately, my love."
She looked up at him with a horrified face, "Why would I not?"
He let out a breath, cursing himself silently. He kneeled in front of her and took her hands in his. "We already have Rickon. He may not have come from your womb, but he is all I need, my love."
Y/n was Cregan's second wife, his first, Arra Norrey, dying in childbirth. Cregan was devastated at her death, but a few years later, the cold Warden's heart was warmed by Y/n, and they married soon after. 
Rickon was a sweet boy, and Y/n was quick to step into a mother role for him when she married the boys's father. Now almost five, he was growing into his father's shoes more and more each day.
Which brought them to now.
"But my duty is to give you children."
He immediately shook his head. "No. No, nothing of the sort. I… I don't need more children."
She tilted her head in confusion, "You're the Warden. You… you need more children. I… I am to give you children, Cregan. And I can't."
"That's not true!" He argued. 
"Then why is my womb still bare despite our devotion to it?"
Cregan's cheek flushed completely. "Do… Do you think I only bed you to fill you with my seed?"
"Well… not entirely."
He forced himself to take a breath. "I lie with you because I wish to. Because I love you."
"Will you still love me if my womb remains dry?"
Pain erupted behind his eyes.
How could she think that? That he'd leave her?
Because of his own doing, this was entirely his fault.
His grip on her hands tightened. "I… I must confess something to you, my love."
Her eyes flitted up to his, still puffy and red, but at least the tears had paused.
"I… I have kept myself from filling you with child."
"W…what?" She managed to whisper out.
"I did not know that you wished this so desperately. I am very sorry, my love. I did not mean this as a secret."
She sniffled but no words came from her lips as she waited for the entirety of his secret to be exposed.
"I have been drinking a tea from the maester on the nights I believe we'll lay together."
Her jaw went slack. 
"I did not know you wanted a child so badly. That you think yourself only worthy to me if we have children."
She pushed him back as she stood, moving to leave. 
But he was quick, standing and grabbing her wrist.
She spun, beginning to hit his chest as sobs wracked from her body, "HOW COULD YOU?" Hit. "YOU'VE LIED TO ME!" Hit. "AND YOU LET ME BELIEVE I WAS THE PROBLEM!" Hit. "How long would you have let me?" Hit. "I hate you!"
He intercepted her hand this time, his grip strong but not one of pain, "Listen to me." His voice was low, "Will you do this?"
She hiccuped lightly as she stared up at him. Finally, she nodded.
"I took the tea because…" He let out a soft sigh. "Arra died in childbirth. I had nightmares of it every night. Her cold body in my hands, switched for the warm one of my son." 
His eyes watered but he continued, "The nightmares stopped when I met you. And when we wed… they returned. Only... they were different. Changed. It was you dying in childbirth."
Her eyes softened. 
He never spoke of his first wife to her. He hated the reminder of what had happened.
"And so… I take the tea. To keep your womb bare because I.." His voice broke, "…I cannot live knowing I could make the same mistake twice."
"Why did you hide it?" She asked softly.
"It was not purposeful. I figured… you did not wish to see your husband in such a state. Or truly believed that I did not wish to bed you. Or have a child with you."
"But you don't."
"I do," he argued. "I want a child. But… I will not put you through the trials of the creation of one. So, we won't." 
His hand trailed down to her stomach, tracing lightly, "To think of your swelling with my child, growing by the day, only to die once on the bed. I can't bear it."
She thought for a while of what to say. She wished she was mad at him. But how could such a burly man proclaim his fears only to have his wife mock him? She couldn't bring herself to.
"That was noble."
His head snapped up to look at her, "Was it?"
She nodded, "You care for me. You put your manhood aside to keep me safe."
He bit the inside of cheek, "I have."
"Thank you."
His eyebrows raised at her proclamation. "You're truly thanking me? When I should be begging your forgiveness?"
Her gaze softened and a hand came up to his cheek, "I do wish you'd have told me. But I cannot fault you for your fears. I'm suppose to ease them."
"How do you plan to do so?"
Her head tilted, "Have you taken the tea lately?"
He nodded.
"Then let us test it."
A fire lit behind his eyes, "Oh, we've tested it quite often, haven't we?"
A mischievous smile moved across her face, "We have."
His lips moved her hers, a mere brush. "Forgive me for making you feel unable to perform your duty," he whispered.
"What is my duty then, my lord?"
He smiled against her lips, "Being mine."
A laugh came from her, "I'll do my best then."
"Aye. You're already quite good at it."
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@misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, 8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest,
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euthymiya · 3 months
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camera roll — ft. ryomen sukuna
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sukuna doesn’t appreciate how often his annoying little nephew comes over and takes up your time—until you share a few pictures of you and him to little yuuji. maybe the runt’s starting to grow on him
before you read: fem reader ; non curse au/modern au ; established relationship ; uncle sukuna and nephew yuuji ; mentions of itadori jin and kaori ; mentions of reader wearing heels and being carried by sukuna ; sukuna being a terrible influence to children (and being a softie on the low)
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Sukuna doesn’t like children. They’re little troublemakers. They’re nuisances. They take up space and cause chaos. They whine. They cry and kick and scream. They don’t pay bills and eat away at your wallet. They’re clingy and talk a lot. They don’t have jobs and never contribute to the economy. The list goes on.
(You like to point out this mindset is just a byproduct of his upbringing, and that he should heal. He thinks that’s a load of bullshit. He grew up just fine. He doesn’t need to heal from anything—he’s just right. Kids are weird and unsettling).
Yuuji is no exception. The kid is an irritating spawn of his brother—they even have the same smile. Too happy, too nice, too talkative, and too bubbly. So what if Yuuji is his nephew? He doesn’t have to enjoy the runt’s company just because he’s family. (You like to really put emphasis on the family part).
And you’re persistent. You invite the little runt over every chance you get. You always agree to babysitting so his brother can have his date nights and spend quality time with that equally as annoying wife of his. (It’s Jin’s fault for not thinking things through. If he just kept it in his pants, he could easily find time to have dates and spend time with his lousy wife, but no. He decided to knock up the woman and make it Sukuna’s problem too).
It’s an eyesore to say the least to walk into his living room and see a small, useless child curled up in your lap, taking his place where he should be resting his head, and giggling to yourselves.
Irritating. Nauseating. So outright infuriating.
Sukuna hates kids.
“And that’s uncle ‘Kuna and me at the beach,” you grin, “see that castle? He helped me build it. Don’t tell him I told you that, though or he’ll eat me.”
“Woah,” Yuuji gasps, staring in awe at the photo in your phone. Sukuna’s eye twitches. You promised not to tell anyone he helped you build that stupid sand castle. He just wanted you to be quiet when you kept whining for his help. “Uncle ‘Kuna’s got big muscles!”
“Yeah, he does,” you nod, grinning. You swipe through a few more photos before stopping at another one. Yuuji’s eyes bulge even wider. “See? That’s him at the gym. Sometimes I go and watch him. Doesn’t he look so strong?”
“Uh huh,” the kid nods furiously. “He’s so cool,” he adds, voice laced in admiration.
Well, at least the runt has a brain. He definitely didn’t get it from his father, but it’s there. That’s a start.
“And that’s us on our first anniversary. See how sweet your uncle is? He’s carrying me to the car because my feet were hurting.”
Sukuna rolls his eyes. He told you those shoes would hurt your feet, and then your whining would make it his problem. Evidently everyone he surrounds himself with likes to make things his issue to deal with. And he was right—you did end up whining about those damn heels. (They did make your legs look good, he’ll admit that much. But still, you didn’t need to go through the trouble of wearing them only to bugging him with your complaining. He finds your legs hot regardless of what shoes you wear).
“Uncle ‘Kuna’s so nice,” Yuuji nods, giggling before he looks up at you, poking a chubby finger into your cheek and says, “so pretty!”
“Aw Yuuji,” you grin, “aren’t you the sweetest little man?”
You lean in and press an attack of kisses to the brat’s cheeks. Sukuna crosses his arms and glares at the way the runt laughs in glee at your affection. Who does he think he is, feeling your lips on his skin?
Once you settle down, you pull him flush against your chest again, back pressed to you as an arm wraps around his tiny frame, holding him close.
“Look, this is when we went on our first vacation! See how your uncle likes to sleep on my chest? He says he hates cuddling but he’s a liar.”
“Lies are bad!” Yuuji gasps, looking up at you with wide eyes.
“Yeah,” you nod seriously, “super bad. You’ll always tell the truth right Yuuji? Don’t be like your mean uncle, okay?”
“Okay,” he agrees, nodding like he means it.
If it was up to him, Sukuna would grab the kid off your lap and set him out on the streets to find his own way home. How dare the brat sit on his couch with his girlfriend and act holier than him?
And it’s not a lie. Sukuna thinks cuddling is stupid. Using your chest is a pillow isn’t cuddling, it’s getting comfortable. You’re the liar.
“And see this one? That’s us having a picnic. You know your uncle ‘Kuna surprised me with that? He can be really sweet, y’know. He just likes to pretend he’s all tough.”
Yuuji giggles again—and then his eyes land on Sukuna at the entrance of the living room, brightening at the sight of him.
Great. He’s been spotted. Just want Sukuna needed after a long day of work. More annoying people.
“It’s uncle ‘Kuna!” Yuuji points his pudgy little finger at him before waving a tiny hand. “You’re back!”
“And you’re still here,” Sukuna’s eyes narrow, “why?”
“That’s no way to greet your nephew, Sukuna,” you scold, earning an eye roll from your boyfriend.
He trudges over, (carefully) pushing Yuuji to scoot over on your lap so he can lay his head where it rightfully belongs on your legs and settle on the couch. He sighs and closes his eyes as your fingers gently weave through his hair.
“Had a long day at work, I don’t need this brat still taking up my space. Tell ‘im to pay bills if he wants to stay so bad.”
“Oh c’mon, he’s been waiting for you all day,” you grin, “haven’t you Yuuji?”
“Uh huh!” The runt nods, leaning down to hover over Sukuna’s face. He opens an eye, peering up at the kid as Yuuji pokes a finger at his cheek. “Wanna play?”
“No,” he grumbles, pretending to bite at the finger.
Yuuji shrieks, pulling it away quickly and earning a low chuckle from Sukuna while you glare.
“Hey!” You scold, “you be nice to—”
“Again! Again!” Yuuji laughs brightly, holding a finger to hover over Sukuna’s lips. You blink and so does he, staring at the child before Sukuna’s lips curl into a small, smug grin.
“If you say so, ya runt.”
He snaps at the tiny finger Yuuji holds over his lips again, this time getting in a (gentle) nibble that makes the child squeal and laugh brightly.
“Uncle ‘Kuna’s gonna eat me,” he laughs.
“S’right, I’ll eat ya like you’re dinner. So quit comin’ over, you wretched brat.”
Yuuji, as innocent and hopeful as a little child is supposed to be, takes Sukuna’s smirk as a sign his uncle is happy to play. So he crawls off your lap, plopping himself to sit on Sukuna’s chest and smile happily down at him while you coo at the sight.
“Oh my gosh, he’s too cute! Sukuna don’t even think about moving—I’m getting a picture. Jin will love it!”
“Don’t take a fuckin’ pic—”
“Do not curse in front of a child!” You follow your scolding with a smack at his head, making him grunt angrily.
“I swear if you get a damn photo of—”
Click.
The sound of your phone’s camera going off cuts him off, silencing him with a wicked glare he sends up at you from your lap. It’s not so menacing when you take in the fact that his hand has securely planted itself at the base of Yuuji’s back, keeping him from falling over.
Sukuna hates children—he reminds you of this fact constantly. He has a soft spot for his little nephew, though. You don’t point it out so he can keep his facade up for his sense of dignity, but you know the facts.
Yuuji’s favorite snacks are stocked up in the cabinets for his arrival today—and you certainly haven’t had a chance to grocery shop this week. A small, tiny little inkling tells you that your boyfriend is developing something of a soft spot for his nephew.
“Look Yuuji,” you grin at the small child, ruffling his hair as you turn your phone to face him, “it’s you and uncle ‘Kuna! Your very own picture together! Isn’t that nice?”
“Yay!” He claps, eyes crinkling excitedly as he smiles happily at the picture.
Sukuna’s eyes soften just a bit before he’s back to frowning, a grumpy crease of his forehead as he huffs.
“I’m sick of this darn brat.”
————— bonus —————
“Fuck!” Yuuji says as he drops his sippy cup.
Sukuna freezes, eyes quickly darting over to you from the sink where he’s washing the dishes. You stop, stilling where you’re clearing the table. Your hand pauses mid air from its path to pick up glass, head slowly turning to look over at the child.
“Yuuji,” you say slowly, “where did you learn that word?”
He better not—Sukuna stares holes into the kid’s head. The runt better not rat him out or he really will eat him. Maybe even do worse. He’d better keep his annoying little mouth shut before—
“Uncle ‘Kuna!” Yuuji points to Sukuna, as if he wants the man to die.
Your eyes instantly glare over at him. Sukuna tenses, clenching his jaw as he shoots a dirty look at his nephew.
“You damn snitch! They ought to teach you about tattling at that fancy day care of yours—”
“Quit yelling at him for your doing! Just you wait till he’s home,” you glower, “I’ll deal with you later.”
Sukuna scowls, returning to washing the dishes with a sulky frown on his face as you bend down and gather Yuuji into your arms.
“Is that awful man being a bad influence on you?” You coo, “he is, isn’t he? Don’t worry, I’ll teach that terrible uncle of yours a lesson, okay? But don’t use that word, Yuuji. Only non self respecting people use that language.”
Yuuji doesn’t even understand what that means, he wants to say. He holds his tongue, though, just to save himself from even a little of your wrath—but the runt is never welcome back to his home again, Sukuna thinks, grumbling to himself under his breath as you offer Yuuji the last of his ice cream.
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High key I don’t know how to write children so Yuuji’s parts might be cringe but just look away OKAY
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planetxiao · 2 months
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# HAPPINESS FOR TWO
𖤐 umemiya hajime ; suo hayato ; sakura haruka x reader
⟢ fluff, scenarios // when their friends realized you’re good for each other.
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𖤐 UMEMIYA HAJIME
Damn it all.
Hiragi wasn’t sure how, but he managed to make it home without realizing he didn’t have his antacid tablets on him. He checked – double checked – each of his pockets, but alas, they were gone. He sighed. There was only one place he thought it could be: back on the rooftop of Furin High.
He wasn’t usually forgetful, but it had been a long day, he supposed. That unnecessarily big fight took a lot out of him. 
It was like any other day, another leader of a gang demanding to fight Umemiya, except this guy was too persistent about it. In fact, all of his men seemed to have been of one mind. In the end, Umemiya gave him the fight he wanted. Of course, the white haired Bofurin leader reigned victorious, but he didn’t leave the fight unscathed. No one did. That being said, everyone was fine; they just left with minor cuts, scrapes, and bruises.
A meeting on the rooftop was held after the fight, each captain and vice captain giving their report before leaving for the day. That was when he must’ve set them down.
Hiragi trudged all the way back to Furin High, stomach turning at the possibility of getting roped into Umemiya’s antics again – if he was still there, anyway. The sun was about to set, and all of that day’s teams were on their last patrol shift. 
He had half a mind to kick down the door in irritation, but he resigned to pushing it open.  With his hands stuffed in his pockets, Hiragi’s eyes peeled this way and that to look for the very guy whose mere mention gave him indigestion in the first place.
Left, clear. Right, clear. A breath of relief… let out too soon.
Hiragi took one step before freezing. Sat at the picnic table about 15 feet away was Umemiya and someone he recognized to be his partner. 
Hiragi had seen you a couple times before. You would come to bring Umemiya lunch from time to time, and he would show you all of the plants he was growing in return. He really didn’t know anything about you but your name, nor did he ever feel the need to know more than that.
That was probably his fifth time seeing you. You both straddled the bench, facing each other, with your legs pulled over Umemiya’s. His hands rested on your hips as you gently wiped a cotton pad over the scratches on his face. Umemiya gazed at you with eyes that held nothing but love in them and a smile so easily made, like that of a dreamer stuck within his fantasies.
“Hajime, how many times have I asked you to be careful?” You sighed.
He laughed bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, “Sorry, Sorry! I tried, I really did!”
You applied a large bandage to the cut on Umemiya’s cheek, shaking your head lightly.
“I know. I just worry about you.”
“I know, my love,” He cupped your face, “But, it’s okay. I’m okay! You don’t need to worry, I’ll always come back to you, okay?”
It was almost picturesque, the way you melted together like chocolate under the setting sun. Your forehead rested against his while he interlocked his fingers with yours. Hiragi felt bad watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes.
You giggled, “That was so cheesy, you dork.”
“What?! I thought it was romantic!”
He would rather eat his own shoe than admit this to anyone, but Hiragi smiled at the sight of Umemiya holding his world in the palm of his hands. He seemed to have found his true other half, someone that understood and cared for him in the way Umemiya deserved.
The creak of the rooftop door closing was heard by both you and Umemiya, the only sign that Hiragi was ever there. 
He’d come back for those tablets later.
𖤐 SUO HAYATO
Shouts bellowed down the street, drawing a crowd. It’s not unnecessarily unusual for a fight to break out there, but the people of the town watch as if it was the first time. Onlookers lined the walls of the narrow street close to the action.
Sakura and Nirei had been walking to meet up with Suo on their day off. They agreed to meet outside of Kotoha’s cafe at noon, but Sakura and Nirei were running late. As for why, well, Nirei had to take the time to go all the way to Sakura’s apartment and wake him up because he had overslept. Let’s just say Nirei had a rather stressful morning.
The fast shuffling of feet caught Sakura’s attention. He quirked a brow, looking up from his shoes to see a group of people in the distance. Some of them had been sent flying back in different directions, piquing Sakura’s curiosity.
What the hell? There’s a fight right now?
The itch of annoyance Sakura felt from that morning had him rearing to go. Nirei gulped. However, a comment from one of the onlookers was what sent them running towards the crowd.
“Hey, isn’t that eyepatch guy from Bofurin?”
Suo was in it?
They pushed through the crowd to see for themselves. Sure enough, they recognized the tassel earrings whipping in the air before they could even see their friend’s face. From the look of it, there weren’t that many foes left, and he had someone fighting alongside him.
You and Suo were back to back, taking one guy after another. Your movements mirrored each other as if watching a master and student. While your actions were more limited and practiced, Suo’s refined moves looked purely instinctual. He drew in his opponents with a mere look and had them on their backs within seconds. It was a violent dance that you both had invited your foes to.
Sakura and Nirei watched in shock, seeing these men drop like flies. It was ridiculous, this wasn’t a fight. There was no struggle from both sides, only one.
There were only two left, and Suo seemed to sense foul play heading in your direction. The sun gleamed off the metal bat that reeled back in front of you. You gasped. You weren’t used to fighting against weapons. Hell, you weren’t even that used to fighting in general. The guy smirked, swinging as hard as he could. But, the path of the bat was abruptly stopped as Suo flew through the air, swiftly kicking the guy in the face. The metal bat hit the ground with a clang, the owner flying back into a wall before crumbling onto the ground.
Suo’s venomous gaze lingered for a second on the man who sought to hurt you, though another one charged at him from behind. You called out his name – a warning hot on your lips. Suo took notice of the impending presence, but before he could turn and deal with the person, the crisp sound of a fist connecting with skin rang in his ears. Suo looked back, seeing the guy unconscious on the ground with most likely a broken nose.
Cheers erupted in the street, praising Suo and his partner in taking down the brutes. Sakura stuffed his hands in his pockets with a huff, while Nirei beamed at the two of you.
“Wow! I wonder who that person is. Do you know, Sakura?”
“No idea.”
As Nirei was about to approach them, he watched Suo take your hand in his and examine your bleeding knuckles.
You laughed bashfully and shrugged, “I improvised.”
Suo smiled softly, raising his other hand to caress your burning cheek.
“You did well, my dear.”
Oh! Oh.
Nirei whipped his head back to Sakura, about to shout about how Suo had a secret romantic partner, but stopped when he saw Sakura’s wide eyed blush. When Nirei turned back around, he saw Suo leading you into Kotoha’s cafe with a hand on the small of your back. Your head nestled in the crook of his neck.
The blond couldn’t help the way his lips curled. He ran after the two, pulling out his small notebook. That was the first time he had seen you, but he could tell you were special to Suo and he to you. You two made one hell of a good team. A scary one, but good nonetheless.
He just hoped he and Sakura would never do anything to piss you off.
𖤐 SAKURA HARUKA
Nirei was pacing.
“Where could he be? He’s never disappeared for this long before. One day, sure. But three? Something’s wrong. I just know it.”
Suo placed a hand on Nirei’s shoulder, a friendly smile remaining on his face. He understood that Nirei worried about Sakura as much if not more than anyone else at Furin High, but biting his nails over the issue wasn’t going to fix it. Ever the voice of reason, Suo spoke calmly to his friend.
“Relax, Nire-kun. The last time Sakura was gone, he was sick in his home, right?”
Nirei looked up at Suo, concern furrowing his brow.
“That’s the thing. I checked his apartment yesterday and he wasn’t there.”
Suo hummed. An interesting turn of events. He doubted that Sakura would just up and disappear – he could’ve just been out when Nirei came around. There’s an explanation for everything, after all. Sakura’s strong, it’s not likely he was kidnapped or anything of the sort. He was probably just sick again. Even so, it wouldn’t be good if Sakura was ill and wandering around…
“I see. Then why don’t we check one more time?”
Nirei nodded and turned on his heel, making a bee-line out of the classroom with Suo following behind.
Nirei kept a brisk pace. He was always at least three steps ahead of Suo, who kept his normal pace. It was Suo’s second time coming up on the desolate complex. The scenery was less surprising this time around, but the tattered place was eerie all the same.
They knocked once, twice, thrice, receiving no answer each time. Suo’s hand grasped the knob, remembering how it was unlocked last time they came to check on Sakura, and turned it. The door opened with a ghostly creak, no sign of life anywhere in the room. Suo called for Sakura. Still no answer.
“Sorry for the intrusion,” Suo murmured, deja vu creeping over him.
Nirei followed. Suo slid the door to the main room open and was greeted by nothing, Sakura’s futon rolled away haphazardly in the corner. Not even his uniform hung where it was last time. Nirei began to wring his hands. Where the hell could Sakura have gone?
“Huh, he’s still not here,” Suo wondered aloud before turning to his worried friend, “Have you tried asking his partner if they’ve seen him?”
“No, I don’t have any way to contact them.”
The brown haired boy had an inkling that he knew where Sakura might be.
That was how they wound up on your doorstep after the sun had set. They had seen you quite a few times, even coming with Sakura to see you once or twice. Sakura had told them each time not to come, but of course his friends were curious about his partner. Suo would insist, while Nirei would just follow.
Like earlier, they knocked on the door and awaited a response. If he wasn’t here, Nirei was going to lose his mind.
The knob turned. Nirei didn’t waste a second.
“Hello, sorry for the bother, but have you seen-”
A hand covered his mouth, surprising him. When he looked up at you with wide eyes, you simply held your finger over your mouth, signaling him to keep quiet. Suo peered through the door behind you and understood.
Surrounded by various medicine bottles and a tissue box laid Sakura, sound asleep. His monochromatic hair splayed in different directions, twirled together in some spots like yin and yang. Nirei and Suo could see his reddened nose and cheeks from where they stood at the door. All tell tale signs of Suo’s confirmed suspicion. Taking one last peek, Suo and Nirei chuckled at Sakura’s sleeping form, a trickle of drool peeking from the corner of his ajar mouth.
You stepped outside with the two boys, closing the door behind you.
“Sorry Nirei, I didn’t want him to wake up. What’s going on?”
“Has Sakura been here for the past three days?” Nirei asked.
You nodded.
“He started feeling sick while he was here a couple days ago, so I’ve been taking care of him. He’s doing better though, his fever finally broke just before you came actually. Should be up and moving by tomorrow.”
Nirei breathed a sigh of relief. Sakura was fine, he could finally relax his tense shoulders. Suo’s usual kind smile melted into something softer after hearing your explanation. An unspoken thought was shared between the two boys as they glanced at each other. The heavy feeling of deja vu had dissipated because something was different this time.
Thank god Sakura has you.
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note: i’m actually pretty happy with how these turned out :D also in suo’s, if not implied well, he taught you those moves :3 i hope their characterizations are all okay!!
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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 7 months
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𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ཐི❤︎ཋྀ
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art cred: maichiatto62 (x)
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☦︎synopsis: you get chased by a dark and undetermined figure in the woods, and run toward a dreadful castle that houses a seemingly kind man, will you stay awhile?
☦︎genre: smut w/plot
☦︎tags: vampiric hypnotism, mentions of blood, biting, corruption, dialogue heavy, degradation “whore” , loss of virginity, cunnalingus, creampie, mirror
☦︎wrd cnt: 2.2k
☦︎a/n: vampires and gothic literature is my favorite so this was a dream to write and I hope anyone reading enjoys!
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Twigs and thistle snap under your feet as you walk through the fruit berring bushes, feeling the low laying leaves scratch your ankles.
You lost track of time and try to find your group, you probably should have skipped this hiking trip. Or at least wore shorts that covered your knees. The night drew upon your haggard form quite quickly, and the temperature dropped significantly.
You tried your best to find the light of the campfire you knew was there before you left.
After a few minutes of silent walking, besides your rummaging footsteps, you hear a loud thud somewhere behind you.
Your back straightened up like a rod, “Hello?” Your voice echos slightly, bouncing off the trees and up toward the stars. You prayed like hell it was one of your friends, coming to your salvation.
When nobody answered you after your third call out, you kept walking.
You heard another loud noise, as if a bolder dropped straight into a big pile of leaves, trembling the ground you stood on.
Frozen in fear, like a deer, you stand in the middle of a plot of dirt surrounded by the thick trees and shrub.
Your eyes open wide and your hands balled up in fists, you survey the area until you find the source of the sound.
A tree, wounded with a big chunk missing from the side.
It still stood tall, but reckoned to snap if it had been torn just a few more inches towards the unbent side.
You wondered who could have caused such destruction, or rather what.
You would find out soon enough, when you examine the tree to find streaks of blood scattered over earthen hide.
Following the trail you discovered the remains of some animal.
Well that’s what you think it was, it had been mangled and torn in such a brutal manner there was no way to identify exactly what it could have been.
As you tried your best to figure it out, a black shadow stalked you from afar.
Red orbs visible with stillness behind a tree, slowly growing larger in your view as it approached. The dimness of the atmosphere cloaked it well.
You stepped back, shoes muddied and heavy as you ran. You ran until you saw the nearest source of light, not bothered to look behind you to whatever was chasing.
Your labored breath became cold and dryed out your throat.
You ran and ran until you found a rather tall and lucrative looking building, somewhat of a mansion or moreso fitting of a castle.
Where the hell did that come from? You’ve never seen anything like it before in all the times you’d hiked in these woods.
You didn’t have much time to question it, but ran right to the door.
It was slightly crept open, so you figured it must have been some kind of open house or exhibit.
You rushed in, shutting the grand door.
As you caught your breath, you almost screamed when you heard a man’s voice right behind you. Who you somehow didn’t see when first stepping in, as if he’d appeared from thin air.
“Good evening.” The man said, burning candle in his hand.
You turned before he could even finish his greeting, a look of utter terror in your eyes.
“Are you well dear? You’re bleeding”
You didn’t even notice, but your knees had been scrapped and dripping blood halfway down your shins.
His eyes lit a shade of red barely able to be detected, or maybe it was just the reflection of the flame? You were quite scared and paranoid after all.
“Oh- I’m so sorry, The door was open and I didn’t know anyone was here- Someone was chasing me.”
“Oh my, are you alright? Come, let me offer you safety tonight.” He beckoned you to follow him, the rays of the small flame from the wax stick guiding you as he most graciously offered you a safe heaven in his home.
You looked around at the torchlit walls, it felt dark and cold throughout the entire place.
He walked you up 2 flight of stairs, his pace was quite constant throughout, almost like he was floating on each step.
You soon arrived into a hallway full of paintings adorning the walls, hand painted it seemed. So beautiful you had to point it out.
“You have a lovely home- is this artwork all yours?” You ask.
“Yes. I have quite a bit of spare time on my hands, so I much enjoy art.” He answered. The man’s voice was deep and mellow.
You walked down the red carpet hallway to the room all the way to the end, it seemed to be one of the many dozens.
There was a large canopy bed lined with dark lace and wooden upholstery.
“Please, spend the night here until morning. I wouldn’t want you to endanger yourself.”
Before you could even agree to his much eager assistance, he walked over to a box near the fireplace side table and pulled out several glass vials and bandages.
You walked toward him, and sat down per his instruction.
“Thank you- You’ve been so kind to me. Why?”
He chuckled, kneeling down to your level and applying an ointment to the cloth.
“Why? How ever could I turn away such a frightening young lady at my door. There are dangerous things in those woods.”
His tone sounded very concerned, but horrifyingly casual.
“What is your name Sir? If it’s okay to ask.”
“It’s perfectly okay. You can call me Blade.”
“Blade…Nice to meet you” What a strange name.
“Likewise. Now please, allow me.”
You nod, before he dabs a stinging oil to your knee. One by one.
He handles you well, gently.
His cold hands held your calves as he bandaged up your wounds.
He gets up from his knelt position, seeming even taller than he is when he stands from this view.
His long black hair was so dark it seemed blue, ends dipped in a color that resembled the shade of holly berries.
He sat down on the chair opposite of you, his face framed by the fireplaces glow behind him now.
“So tell me dear, what exactly happened?” His voice dripping in concern.
“I…really don’t know. I got lost hiking with my group and I tried to find them, but then I kept hearing weird noise in the forest and I thought it could be them looking for me. But-“
You stopped, reliving the sequence you just ran from.
He waited patiently for you to continue, his sculpture like face and rich eyes giving you their utmost attention.
“I saw blood, and a dead animal, I think a wolf or something could have done it. But there was a man- in the woods. It kept staring at me and getting close. So I ran for a while until I found your- castle?” You chuckle a little, the term house seemed beneath such a grand sanctuary.
“Maybe a werewolf?” The man said, giving you an amused chuckle. He waves his hand, “But anyways…That all sounds very frightening, I’m glad you found me.”
You nod, “As am I” you assure.
Whatever it was you are safe now y/n, very safe.” He took your hands into his own, giving them a positive squeeze with smiling eyes.
You nodded, but soon a hitch in your throat appeared and you felt like your stomach got kicked.
“I never told you my name.”
A smile appeared on his face, “Smart girl.”
His eyes glowed the same shade of sanguine you saw in the forest, chasing you. You could see two sharp teeth sticking past his upper lip, his smirk revealing to you his true identity.
You quickly get up, startled enough to drop the chair behind you and fall back onto the bed.
“Who are you-“ You scream, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as he stood slowly and walked toward you.
“I already told you that, didn’t I?.”
He cupped your face, making you look straight up at him.
“Please- don’t hurt me.” You plead, tears now falling from your eyes and staining your cheeks.
“Hurt you? I just tended to your wounds, why do you think I’ll harm you dear?” His voice sounds even lower at this point, and his eyes fiery.
You kick back your leg and retreat further back into the bed, almost yelling, “You’re a vampire-!”
“And your blood smells so deliciously decadent…I almost couldn’t resist tasting you a moment ago.” He crawls toward your frame, his large hands making deep prints into the mattress.
His eyes seemed to glow in a pattern, the color deepening snd glowing slowly as he got toward you.
Your body felt weak, as if magnetic to him. Almost willing to amuse him.
“What are- what are you doing to me-“
“I haven’t done a thing. I’m just increasing the magnitude of your emotions dear. Whatever you feel at this moment is your utmost desire spilling out every orafice in your body.”
You felt your mind whirl, your body get hotter with every inch he grew closer to you.
He soon wrapped his palms behind your back, seating you in his lap.
You felt an animalistic urge settle upon you, breathing even heavier than when you ran away from him earlier.
He grazed his hand up and down your legs, taking off your shoes and socks, rubbing the sore soles of your feet.
“You must get more comfortable my dear, you seem less tense, good.” He says, slowly pressing his lips to yours as you hold his shoulder.
His tongue found yours, warm in contrast to the rest of him; tangling itself in a waltz.
He nipped at your bottom lip and pricked it, tugging at it and licking the blood that drew from it with his tongue. “Virgin blood…You are truly magnificent.”
You felt your face heat up more than your body, his presence making you feel an insatiable hunger for lust.
“Blade- please…I feel-“
“Concupiscent? I can tell, y/n”, he said, his hand trailing up to your thigh and rubbing your heat through your shorts.
You roll your hips at his touch, a small mewl escaping you.
He picks you up and plops you down further back on the bed, your head hitting the pillow softly as his large frame hovers above your body.
“I can be very thorough in relieving your…lustful desires.”
“Please- yes…” You softly gasp, feeling his lips close to your neck before they kiss you.
Hungrily he rips your top apart, as if it were made of paper.
You quiver at his touch, fear set aside and now unrelentingly yearning for all of him.
“You need not worry…I will take, good, good care of you.”
You nod, watching him soon trail his lips down to your exposed chest.
He circles the tip of his tongue around your nipple, taking it entirely in his mouth to hear you moan out; the other in his hand, his hips grinding to meet your heat as he grinds into you through the fabrics keeping you apart.
“You are a marveling beauty.” He adds, his hands finding the hem of your shorts and pulling them right down, along with your panties.
He pulled back, holding your legs apart and examining every part of you, taking in the view of his next meal.
He watched you shyly try to look away, smirking when he saw how utterly messy your cunt was, glistening and dripping juices down to the sheets.
He didn’t waste much time after that, kissing your inner thigh before planting one on your clit.
He made the most deep, sinful noises as he lapped at your cunt, his eyes not breaking contact with yours as he inserts two long and slender fingers inside you.
He seemed to almost gain more pleasure from sucking on your clit than you did, almost.
You reacted like a beast in heat, legs trembling and hands gripping the sheets as your thighs pressed the sides of his face to pull him deeper into you.
You came faster than ever before. Blade sucked every drop out of you, wiping the corner of his mouth before grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.
He kissed you once more, not biting this time. Yet.
Without giving you time to recoup- he shed his clothing and slapped his cock on your folds, slipping it inbetween them to get it ready for you.
“I need to taste you dear…truly taste you.”
“M-my blood?” You ask, feeling even weaker and more lustful.
“Yes” he whispers close to your lips, “You will let me drink from you, won’t you, my little temptress?”
You nod- pulling him close to you as if you’d wither without him.
“You are such an eager woman. I quite like that.” He says, before pushing his entire length deep, deep inside you. You groan, eyebrows furrowed harshly as you experience such a reveling sensation.
“Fuck-“ He breathes, “You’re so tight…do you ache for me so deep? You’re sucking me in so much…such a naughty whore you are.”
He moved in and out slowly, making you feel every vein and along his shaft.
You could feel his breathe on your chest, and soon his teeth.
He sinked them into the top of your breast, sucking the blood out of you ferociously as he rutted inside you faster now, making you cry out as tears rolled down your face in pleasure.
“Ah- Blade!…”
“It will only hurt for a moment…I’ll fuck you so deeply you won’t dare to forget it.” He spouts, his mouth dripping with your blood before going back in to take more.
You quickly notice a mirror behind Blade, you haven’t noticed it before but he wasn’t in it of course. All your blurry vision could attest was your spread apart pussy, gaping with a thick hole as you watched yourself be torn apart in the most delicious way, blood dripping down to your nipple, soon to be licked up from Blade tongue, as your body moved with the rhythm of the bed; snapping out of your trance once you heard his suckling.
He whimpered and moaned as he drank, gripping your ass harder as he thrusted into you at a pace you could nearly pass out from.
So much of your cum created a ring around his cock, squelching noises filled the room and muffled the crackling of the wood in the fire.
His grasp on the fat of your ass deepened, possessiveness overwhelming him.
“You’re mine now. You don’t belong in those treacherous woods, you will stay right here.” He commanded, imaging all the ways he’d ruin your perfect pussy, wrapped around him so well he was convinced you were destined to take him, to be his and his only to fuck, eat, and fill.
In response to his hold, you clenched your walls around him tighter until you felt warm fluid rush into your womb, nodding to his wishes profusely as you release together in the romantically gothic room, your breath huffing as you came down from an intense high.
Blade on the other hand, well the stamina of a vampire is quite impressive.
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whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.
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lowkeyren · 23 days
Text
—childhood sweetheart!
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in which : as kids, you gave him a lollipop to thank him for his help, though you had no idea your kind gesture would spark a blossoming friendship —that would soon evolve into something far sweeter than candy.
pairing : alhaitham x gn!reader
wc 3.6k, childhood friends to (implied) lovers, one bittersweet scene but it's 99% tooth rotting fluff, kaveh n sumeru gang cameo!!, art by @/anno_meiji on x. reblogs r much appreciated!!!
@tragedy-of-commons @iceunhie fellow pissoners that told me to @ them + special thanks to beloved @synqiri for giving me ideas when i wrote this, salutations.
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the house of daena was quiet, the air thick with the comforting scent of old books and polished wood; soft chatters among akademiya students drifted through the air, a gentle hum that mingled with the rustling of pages as scholars immersed themselves in their studies. 
at a corner, you sat cross-legged, surrounded by volumes of scholarly tomes. yet, the real challenge before you  wasn’t the big words or thick pages —but a far more irritating one: your shoelaces.
no matter how many times you tried, the laces refused to cooperate. they twisted and knotted themselves in ways that made you feel as if they had a mind of their own. you tugged at them over and over again, your small hands growing clumsy with frustration, making your struggle feel even more monumental. 
you let out a small, exasperated sigh, your cheeks growing warm with the mounting irritation. who lets a five-year-old wear shoes with laces anyway?
a few feet away, sitting at a low table, was a boy a few years older than you, absorbed in a thick book that looked far too advanced for his age; the dense text and intricate diagrams didn’t seem to faze him at all. his expression remained one of calm detachment, his eyes moving over the pages meticulously. though even amidst his immersion in the book's complex diagrams and equations, your struggle still drew his attention.
with a sigh that sounded more out of obligation than concern, he set his book aside with precise care and approached you with a smooth, deliberate stride. his expression remained neutral, his eyes barely meeting yours as he knelt beside you.
“you’re having trouble with your laces,” he remarked, his tone even and matter-of-fact.
you looked up and nodded at the boy, relief evident in your eyes. “can you help me?” you asked, your voice wavering slightly with embarrassment.
without a word, he reached for your laces. you watched as he deftly untangled the mess you’d created, his movements precise and unhurried. with a few twists and loops, he had the laces neatly tied in no time. “there,” he said, standing up and brushing his hands off. 
“thank you for helping me... um—” 
“alhaitham,” the boy, who you now knew as alhaitham, spoke in a calm voice.
you smiled in return, relieved. “thank you, alhaitham.”
“it was nothing. i’m glad i could assist.” he said before glancing down at your shoelaces again, his tone as impersonal as ever. 
you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small, brightly wrapped lollipop, its cheerful wrapping seemed almost too vibrant for his reserved demeanour. nevertheless, you held it out to him, “i want to give you this,” you said earnestly. “as a small token of my appreciation!”
he glanced at the lollipop, then back at you. you simply tilted your head in response. after a brief moment, he accepted it with a slight nod. “thanks,” he said simply before pocketing the sweet.
you smiled, “i’m [name], by the way.”
“i’ll remember that,” he replied, his tone softening slightly. 
with that, you gathered your books, carefully stacking them in your arms as you rose to your feet. “i need to go now. see you around, alhaitham!” you grinned and gave a small wave before turning to leave, your footsteps growing faint as you walked away.
and though little-you didn’t know it at the time, that small act of kindness, wrapped in bright paper, would linger in his memory for years to come.
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years passed. by now, it was clear that alhaitham was a prodigy, the sharpest of minds among those his age —a teenager admired by many, regardless of age. yet, such exceptional talent often attracts a level of jealousy that goes beyond mere admiration.
however, much like his aloof demeanour, he remained indifferent to the opinions and whispers of displeasure of others, even now, as he stood surrounded by students, their voices dripping with sarcasm and disdain.
"so, alhaitham," one of them jeered, "being a genius must be lonely, huh? too smart to have any real friends?" the others snickered along, clearly revelling in his deliberate silence. they envied the recognition and success he had achieved —things they could only dream of, and that envy fueled their petty desire to bring him down, even if only for a fleeting moment.
enough was enough. 
“hey, give it a rest,” you interjected, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “oh, wait —it’s not like you have anything better to do than make fun of someone who’s actually achieved something, right?”
the laughter from the group began to die down as they turned their attention to you, the tension in the air thickening. 
you tilted your head in feigned curiosity. “or is it the only thing you’re good at?”
the student’s face twisted into a scowl, clearly caught off guard by your retort. after a moment of fumbling for words, he muttered defensively, “whatever. like you’re so perfect yourself.”
you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. “seriously? that’s the best you’ve got?” 
you met their gazes with a defiant smirk, enjoying the way their bravado faltered under your words. “it’s one thing to have nothing between those ears of yours, but there’s no need to be a jerk about it.”
they hesitated for a moment, stung by your remarks and clearly feeling their egos take a hit, they found themselves at a loss for words. finally, one of them muttered something under his breath before they all turned and slunk away, embarrassed.
as the last of their footsteps faded, you turned back to alhaitham, who was watching you with a slightly raised eyebrow. "you didn’t have to do that," he murmured. you shrugged, offering him a wry smile. "i know. but i wanted to.”
“besides, someone has to keep those idiots in check."
alhaitham regarded you for a moment longer before the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. "thank you.” you caught the subtle shift in his expression, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips. it was rare to see him react this way, and it made your small victory feel all the more rewarding.
you couldn’t help but grin. 
“—you smiled!”  giggling, you leaned in closer to him, as if sharing a secret. “i didn’t think i’d ever see that day.”
“no, i did not.” his expression snapped back to its usual deadpan, as if his momentary lapse had never happened.
“no? well, then you should smile more.” you slid into the chair next to him, 
“why?” 
you pulled out your book and opened it to the page marked by your bookmark. “you look good when you smile,” you said casually, your eyes still focused on the material in front of you as you unwrapped a candy and chewed on it, savouring the sweet taste.
alhaitham didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed intently on the pages in front of him. though when he briefly turned his head to the side, his stoic expression faltered.
a faint smile tugged at the edges of his lips; he angled the book slightly higher, hiding his expression from view, while the subtle curve of his lips remained just barely visible.
it was a fleeting moment —nearly imperceptible, but unmistakably there.
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“happy birthday, [name]!” 
you clink your glass with dehya’s, the sound of the toast ringing out amidst the lively chatter. she grins and downs her drink in one swift motion, her laughter echoing as the others join in, raising their glasses to you. 
nilou approaches you with a soft smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “i have something for you,” she says, holding out a small, intricately wrapped box. you open it to find a delicate bracelet nestled inside. 
“i hope today brings you as much joy as you bring to us.” you smile and thank her as she helps you fasten the bracelet around your wrist. 
you glance over to where alhaitham is sitting, only to find him already looking at you; he gives you a slight nod before burying his face back into his book. though you notice that alhaitham's usual noise-cancelling headphones are conspicuously absent, as if choosing to be fully present, especially when you're near.
suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder. when you turn around, you’re greeted with kaveh’s unmistakable grin, “surprise!” he exclaims with a flourish, his voice brimming with infectious enthusiasm. he extends a beautifully hand-carved, ornate wooden box to you, “go on, open it!” he urges, barely containing his excitement.
with a nod, you carefully lift the lid, revealing the contents inside. the box is lined with rich velvet, and nestled within is a tiny, intricately designed music box and a set of miniature sculptures —as expected, his craftsmanship is nothing short of impeccable. you thank him graciously and carefully set the box down on the table beside tighnari’s gift. 
as the evening unfolds, you notice alhaitham occasionally glancing up from his book, his gaze fixing on you, each glance subtly drawing your attention. his eyes, typically so absorbed in the pages, now linger on you with a soft intensity that speaks volumes.
it’s obvious that the night has come to an end when you glance to your side and can’t help but chuckle at the sight of kaveh, completely blackout drunk and slumped over the couch. 
“don’t worry, we’ll handle him,” cyno heads for the door after lifting kaveh over his shoulder with ease; he shares a knowing glance with tighnari. “enjoy the rest of your night!” with a final wave, they disappear out the door, leaving you and alhaitham alone in the cozy tranquillity of your home. 
“looks like it’s just us now,” you say, sinking onto the sofa beside him and stifling a yawn, the night clearly taking a toll on you.
“indeed,” alhaitham replies, his gaze softening as he looks over at you. he reaches behind him and holds his hand out towards you with his fist closed.
“here, a reward for your hard work,” he opens his palm to reveal a small piece of your favourite candy resting on it. “happy birthday, [name].”
the light from the candles flickers softly, casting a warm glow that dances across the room. it bathes the space in a gentle radiance, highlighting the perfect angles of his face and making him look all the more handsome.
alhaitham had never been a big fan of sweets. to him, they were a trivial indulgence, neither particularly enticing nor off-putting. 
but for you, he might learn to like it more. 
after all, if all it takes is a piece of candy to see your smile —sweeter than any treat known to mankind, then maybe there's a reason to enjoy them after all.
as you begin to nod off, he gently strokes your hair and carefully adjusts your position, guiding your head to rest on his chest.
with a soft sigh, he blows out the candles. 
perhaps rationality has its limits when it comes to matters of the heart, for he can’t help but feel that love, in all its irrationality, defies the logic he clings to so fiercely. “love” didn’t follow the neat, predictable patterns of reason —it was wild, unpredictable, and utterly beyond his control. 
yet, despite its chaos, or perhaps because of it, he was okay with it —he was okay with you.
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“is it necessary for you to leave?” 
“sorry haitham, it's for my research. but i’ll be gone for just a few years, and we'll cross paths again before you know it.” 
just a few.. years? you must’ve really underestimated how long that’ll feel. he lets out a disapproving huff, his brows knitting together. “...where will you be going?”
“fontaine,” you replied, “the leylines there hold the key to my research, and it’s an opportunity i can’t pass up.” you hesitate for a moment before adding softly, “i wish you could come along… but with your duties as the acting grand sage, i understand that it’s not possible.”
“i suppose you’ve already made up your mind.”
you nodded, trying to muster a reassuring smile. “i have. but i’ll make sure to write whenever i can!” he studies your face for a long moment, as if committing every detail to memory, afraid he’ll forget the moment you turn your back to him. 
“just... promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” he finally said, his tone more tender compared to a moment ago. “and don’t lose yourself in your research.”
you reach out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “i promise, haitham.” you open his palm and place a small candy in the centre before closing his fingers around it. “something to remember me by,” you add, your voice barely above a whisper as you look up at him.
his eyes trail your figure, his hands clutching the candy tightly, the wrapping paper crinkling in his fist as you start to walk away. midway, you pause, turning around to look at him once more, you flash him a warm smile before waving goodbye.
this time, unlike the first time you met, he returns the gesture with a wave of his own.
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it’s unusual, uncharacteristic for alhaitham to lose his focus so easily. 
the subtle crease in his brow —a dead giveaway to anyone who knew him well; and being his roommate, kaveh noticed it first.
leaning against the table, he glanced at the open book, then back at alhaitham. "you know, that page won’t read itself," he quipped, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
alhaitham didn’t bother looking up, his finger idly tracing the edge of the page. "i’m well aware." after a moment, he finally turned the page with a slight frown, his mind clearly not on the book.
cyno, sitting across from him, folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. "you’ve been staring at that same paragraph for nearly an hour.” he remarks, his tone laced with amusement. tighnari raises his eyebrows, lightly swirling the drink in his cup, “it’s rare to see you this distracted. must be something—or someone—truly exceptional."
alhaitham finally looks up, meeting their gazes with a flat expression, “you all certainly have a lot of free time," he remarked dryly.
cyno shrugs, shaking his head. "you’re just making it too easy, alhaitham."
tighnari, however, leans forward slightly, his gaze softening with genuine concern despite the playful edge in his voice just a minute ago. “but seriously,” he adds, “it’s perfectly fine to admit you miss [name]. we all do, after all, it has been a year.”
alhaitham sighs heavily, closing the book with a soft thud. “i’m perfectly fine."
"sure you are," kaveh drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "it’s not like you’ve been more irritable than usual —or, i don’t know, distracted by a certain someone who’s not here."
for once, alhaitham doesn’t offer a retort. instead, he quietly unwraps a candy and slips it into his mouth, letting its sweet taste wash over him.
but that is all the answer they need. 
unbothered from the looks he receives from his friends, he signals the manager over, “boss, a box of macaroons to go, please.” 
later that night, alhaitham sits in his room —he absently reaches for the box of macaroons but his hand lands on the bright candy wrapper crumpled on the table, though it seems out of place amidst the quiet room, it remains a perfect, poignant reminder of you, in his heart.
the notion of your sweetness is tantalising, one that mingles with the lingering taste of the macaroons on his palate, making him yearn for the real experience, to discover if you, too, could leave such a lasting impression.
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—and truth to be told, i really missed you too. there's so much more i want to share with you, so many things i’ve seen and felt that only you would truly understand. but lucky for us, i’ll be at l'encre des marées in the court of fontaine, for the next few days!  haitham, come visit me, will you?
alhaitham’s footsteps echo softly against the cobblestone street as he approaches the address you gave him.
a bookstore, huh. it seems fitting enough.
he folds your letter and slips it into the pocket of his coat; the gentle chime of the bell above the door announces his arrival. the warm, ambient light of the store envelops him —a voice rings out, welcoming him, but he pays it no mind.
he moves silently between the tall bookshelves, his gaze sweeping over the interior, searching for you within the labyrinth of aisles. though with no sign of you in sight, a faint crease forms between his brows, a subtle yet telling sign of his disappointment.
he comes to a stop in front of one of the shelves, the familiar scent of paper and ink wafting around him. might as well get something, he thinks. his hand hovers over the spines, his fingers brushing lightly against them; the choice is almost arbitrary, driven more by habit than intent. 
the title barely registers in his mind as he turns away from the shelf. with the book in hand, he makes his way towards the counter. he places the book down with a soft thud, and lets his mind drift to you —your latest letter, the anticipation of seeing you here, the subtle disappointment of your absence; he imagines the sound of your voice, the way you might have greeted him had you been there, the little gestures that are make you, so distinctly, you. 
the cashier’s voice pulls him back to the present. “thank you for your patronage!” the words are accompanied by the soft rustling of paper as the bag is handed over to him. he reaches out to take it, but just as he’s about to withdraw his hand, something else is pressed into his palm —a small lollipop.
he blinks, momentarily caught off guard. what? is this a… fontaine custom? he turns the lollipop over in his hand, the cashier’s voice continues, cheerful and slightly sing-song. “don’t forget to visit us again—”
or is he losing his mind? because the sound of your voice, so clear and familiar, “—alhaitham.” echoes his name as if you were standing right infront of him.
his eyes snap up, eyes widening ever so slightly as he looks at the cashier. and there you are, behind the counter, your gaze meeting his with a familiar warmth. he finds himself staring at you, the very person he had been hoping to see; you smile at him, the same smile he had imagined countless times... and his heart still skips a beat.
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“life here in fontaine has been quite a journey.” you stroll side by side, alhaitham listens quietly, absorbing every detail as you recount your journey. your research, originally projected to take more time, has progressed exceptionally well; the results are promising, and you’re now ahead of schedule, which means that you’ll be back in sumeru in less than a week’s time (much to his pleasure).
as you both turn a corner, you suddenly stop and turn to face him. “i’ve been doing all the talking so far,” you smile up at him, “what about you?”
“nothing much, things have been…” he begins, pausing as he searches for the right words. he glances around, just as street lamps flicker to life before continuing, “...rather routine.”
(he’s not lying, no, never to you. “routine” as in routinely thinking about you nonstop —yes, that’s the underlying meaning, though his outward implication is quite… mundane.)
though what you didn’t quite expect next was for alhaitham to extend his hand towards you, his pinky raised in a gesture like an earnest request for a pinky promise. dumbfounded, you chuckle softly, “what’s this for?” 
without waiting for an answer, you decide to indulge him, linking your pinky with his. as your thumbs briefly touch, you catch the look in his eyes —serious, yet with a softness that makes your heart skip. “a promise that i’ll be by your side as long as sugar tastes sweet,” he says, his voice low and sincere.
he gently turns his hand downward, his fingers sliding smoothly between yours, interlocking them in a firm yet tender grip. slowly, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the back of it. “so, come back with me, [name].”
his thumb continues to trace lazy circles on your skin, drawing you closer. leaning in, his breath is warm against your cheek, the space between you vanishes as he tilts his head slightly, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours, close enough that you can almost taste the promise in his words. 
his eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up. you catch his gaze and a small smile starts to form, “you don’t have to ask me twice.”
your eyes flutter shut as his lips brush softly against yours —and he tastes the first bite of a sun-warmed strawberry, a burst of sweetness that lingers on his lips, leaving him craving more. utterly intoxicating, like the scent of honey carried on a warm breeze, filling the air with a fragrance that makes him close his eyes and breathe deeply, savouring the moment.
you taste just like summer —vivid, unforgettable, and leaving him yearning for those endless days and nights, where his world is alive with sparking memories he clings to as the seasons change; so much so that even when autumn's chill begins to settle, he can't help but reach out for the warmth that only your presence can bring.
but most importantly,
you taste unbelievably sweet.
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good question google
MASTERLIST.
815 notes · View notes
bunnys-kisses · 20 days
Note
can I pretty please get nanaimo bars,english muffin with the side of milkshake, frozen latte with Charles Leclerc 🥹🫶
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bakery menu
the bakery is open and accepting orders! we're cooking up smiles every day! submit your own order! reblogs & comments are appreciated! thank you lovely anon for submitting this, it was something very different to write that i loved. size kink with charles is super interesting given how many people see him. but sometimes i forget he is close to six feet tall and built like someone who does f1. he may look sweet as honey, but there's probably something more sinister (sexually) going on in that brain of his, haha.
nanaimo bars ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + english muffins ("aw, is someone crying?") + milkshake (size kink) + frozen latte (dumbification) served by charles leclerc (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, size difference/kink, dumbification, teasing/dirty talk, crying kink, cry baby!reader, oral sex (charles receives), deepthroating, facials & cock slapping, safe words/signals, hair pulling
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"mon cœur"
"la douleur dans ma poitrine."
"mon amor..."
"ma salope."
charles liked to make you cry. he loved when his mean words would curl up into your brain and make that waterworks come out. he was the prince of ferrari and of his home country. it's pride and joy. he was seen as effortlessly cool and could entice anyone. that smile, those green eyes. but even with all he had been afforded, nothing turned him on more than seeing his precious girlfriend's bottom lip wobble her eyes grow cloudy with tears.
he was running on high after monza, it was like everything was barking in the back of his head. even out of his driving suit and away from the track for the night, he could still feel the adrenaline. and while many would go for a run or spend the night with a drink in hand. he yearned for something different.
and when he saw you in his lavish hotel room, in one of his shirts and what appeared nothing else underneath. he knew that he was in for a treat tonight. with his bag down and his shoes off, he entered further into the room. he ended up by you on the couch and took you by the chin.
he smiled, "most take off the make up before they get comfortable." his thumb trailed under your left eye.
you replied, "i took everything off earlier and put on the mascara that runs easily." it was from a cheap brand at the pharmacy. perfect for what charles liked.
he chuckled, "you are just full of surprises, my love. you're going to be good for me tonight, right?" it was moments like these that you realized just how much bigger charles was. most painted him as short and frail.
he was just under six foot but built in a way to withstand the strain of racing. with large hands and thighs that could kill. his hand could easily fit around your neck as easily as his cock did to the back of your throat. there was a flicker in the greens of his eyes, the noble prince had stripped away into a hungry animal that yearned for you.
you swallowed, "i always am. always for you."
he tapped your cheek six times and you tapped his wrist once in response. even if these sick games where you cried and grew stupid on his cock, there were limits everyone had. charles didn't want to break your little world apart because he took it too far. he got on the couch next to you and undid his belt. your delicate hands helped him and dropped the leather to the floor.
charles held you face to look at him. he remarked, "you really are pathetic, so eager. i'm surprised you didn't stalk the halls looking for something to fuck your throat while i was out."
you frowned a little bit, "i'd never, honey."
he pinched your cheek a little harder than normal and leaned in, "right, right. because you're a good girl, my pretty girl. who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it." his words were enticing and it made your stomach flip.
"i am."
"you are pretty, my love." he said, "god blessed you with good looks because he knew you'd be stupid. add a dash of being a cock hungry whore and sometimes i get worried. i've never wanted to kill a man, but if another sank his teeth into you." his words were low and they made you curl in your gut.
if you wanted out, as a last resort. tap once then six times in rapid succession. charles liked to make your bottom lip wobble, but he wasn't a monster. he pulled you in for another searing kiss, his hand in between your legs. he felt panties as he rubbed his hand up.
he knew it was going to be a long night tonight. but first, he had his eyes on your pretty throat. after all his marks had faded over the week. while there would be press photos soon, they didn't mean he couldn't mess up the inside of your throat. even if you couldn't talk for the week, he was more than happy to do all the talking for both of you.
"stupid thing." he said, "you know that? i feel sorry for whatever school gave you your diploma." he acted like he wasn't at your graduation, "i bet you paid them off. or worse, sucked them off. little whore on campus, too stupid to actually learn anything except be on her knees and breath through her nose." he made a small noise of disappointment.
and charles got excited at the sight of you. that bottom lip was going, he could see the shudder in your shoulders. that struck a nerve, post-secondary was hard for you. you felt like people called you dumb without actually saying it. and charles' toxic words only added the fuel to the fire of doubt.
"aw, is someone crying? don't cry." he said, faking sympathy, "if you start crying then you won't suck my cock properly." he rubbed the back of your head as he watched the tears come down your cheek. he sighed once more, "silly thing."
soon your head was between his legs. he could feel your hot tears against the base of his cock as they streamed down your face. they weren't a rush of tears, but a slow trickle as charles' words clouded your head.
you started to work his cock and he felt the excitement in his body. it took a good while but eventually you learned how to deep throat him. he hissed and held onto the back of your head. you were both still clothed (or at least partially for you).
charles had a habit of running his mouth when your mouth was on him. and he rocked the blunt end of his cock up against the back of your throat, occasionally making you choke, he started talking. "i should throw you to the rest of ferrari. let them ruin you. then maybe you'll stop being so greedy for cock when you've had enough for a lifetime. i see how they look at you, my logo across your pretty breasts as you look so cute down at the paddock. if i waved my hand and told them to have their way with you, you wouldn't be getting far." he tugged on your hair a little and forced you up and down his cock faster.
you choked a little bit and sputtered, trying to catch your breath through your nose. it all was a deep throb in your head as you tried to cram as much of his cock into your throat.
"i'd say they'd make your ass ferrari red. but i think it would be closer to mercedes black. you wouldn't be able to sit right for months. maybe i'd be generous and let the other drivers have a chance too. crying on their cocks."
you sniffled, tears welled up in your eyes some more. while most despised having 'raccoon eyes', charles found it endearing. the poor little thing can't help but cry because she knows that he's right. you knew in your gut that you were at least a little cock hungry at all times. he watched you squirm in your seat at times while you let your imagination run wild.
he continued to use you to his liking. you were perfect. trained you from the ground up to be perfect on his cock. he caught glimpses of your face and your red eyes. poor thing, crying to much making a big mess.
so dumb, so small, so stupid.
he took his cock out of your mouth and rubbed it up against your cheek roughly. spit and pre-cum caught across your right eyelashes. his cock pushed your top lip up and he groaned at the sight. your tongue licked a bit of pre-cum that was dangerously close to your face.
"so small, i'm surprised you could take all this. i remember when i couldn't put it in without prepping you. then you spent all season training your cunt for when i got home. now you take me in every way perfectly." he licked his lips, "you know where you belong."
his words excited you as you put your mouth back on his cock. you whimpered as you felt it hit the back of your throat once more. he was big in a way that it made you squirm.
you continued up and down his cock, putting all your brain power (what little you had left) into taking him well. you coughed and panted, air felt in short supply as you got him to the base. your nose in his groomed pubic hair.
a picture perfect beauty, all for charles to devour.
he knew he was close. he could feel it in his bones and in the tension of his muscles. he then tensed up further with his hand in your hair and pulled your mouth off his cock (as much as it pained him to do that). with his other hand he stroked himself off quickly to the sight of your quivering, overheated body. you panted heavily and he finished all over your face. he streaked your skin white with cum up to your forehead. it dripped down your face as you coughed a little.
the debauched sight made him get a few more ropes up cum on your face before he settled down. he pulled your head back to look at you, you could barely have your eyes open. he wished he could take a picture. the white of cum and the mascara mixed tears created a sight that made charles run hot.
"now you look like a slut." he said as he got his jeans off. he rubbed his cock up against your soft lips before he slapped his still hard cock against your face, only making the mess on your cheeks more intense.
"charles." your throat felt raw from it. you looked at him and panted heavily, your tongue stuck out a little bit. and charles knew the night was far over. he fucked you stupid without stimulating your poor pussy. he wanted to see how stupid he could make you.
"we're not done yet." he said.
you tilted your head to the side, almost innocently as if your face wasn't a mess. you asked, "what?" your brain not capturing all the words properly.
he held onto you for a moment and said, "ten seconds to clean up your face. then i want you naked on the bed, or i'll fuck you on the bathroom floor." then let go of you and watched you scramble to clean yourself up. those words stuck in your blissed out brain even though you almost tripped over yourself.
charles chuckled and leaned further back onto the couch, his cock at full attention. even though the mascara was going to be gone, it was okay. you still looked just as pretty with just those tears streaming down your face. <3
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luveline · 2 months
Note
hotch’s daughter and him looking thru baby n childhood pics n realizing just how much they missed angst (her missing out on having a present father n him missing out on raising her)
Aaron’s winded when he sees you that morning. You’re smiling, in sweatpants and a hoodie with a bag on your shoulder that promises an overnight stay, but what hits hardest is the way you light up when he opens the front door. He sees you coming through the window and can’t wait for you to knock. 
“Hey, honey, you’re early!” he says. 
“I know,” you say, stopping just a paving stone away, “but I got this magic jigsaw for Jack that I thought he’d like. Once you complete it you can move it around and create a new jigsaw in the middle.” You smile. “You look happy. Good breakfast?” 
“I’m happy to see you, that’s all.” 
You cross that last step. “Thanks, dad.” You bite your bottom lip, ever so slightly bashful. 
He literally couldn’t be happier. “Did you eat?” 
Aaron brings you inside. Jack is already awake and eating his second breakfast in a meandering picking by the TV. 
You love being a big sister. It’s all the more endearing. “Hey, babe. What are you upto?” you ask. 
Jack whirls and sends a couple of grapes flying. “Oh my gosh yes!” he says, to your laughter and Aaron’s disbelief. He races across the rug in a blur of blue pyjamas to wrap himself around your thighs, face pressed to your hip. “You’re here!” 
“We said Saturday sleepover, right?” 
You get down on your knees to hug him. Your arms around his back, your face to his, you aren’t as rough as you could be —how do sisters hug their brothers? Aaron doesn’t know. But you rub his back in a gentle up and down and lower your voice to say hello. “Hi, Jack. You’re happy to see me?” 
“I’m so happy.” 
“Me too, I’m so happy. I brought you something.” 
“A present?” Jack asks, leaning out of your arms. 
“Not really, it’s for me and you, but I brought you cookies too.” 
“Dad,” Jack says, “can we have some?” 
Aaron holds up a finger. One cookie is enough sugar for the morning. “We can have a couple more after dinner tonight, okay?” 
You take the cookies from your bag, a huge box of palm-sized cookies, chocolate chips shaped like stars, the best kind of indulgence from the bakery not far from here. Aaron catches a look at the inside of your bag, spying a slim white photo album against your weekly medication divider and the plastic wrapped jigsaw puzzle. 
“What’s the album?” he asks. 
“Oh.” You slide your thumb along the sticker that seals the cookies and crack them open for Jack to take his spoils. “They’re my baby photos.” 
He stills. “They are?” 
“And some of me growing up.” You tip your head at him and smile. A little shy, more happy. “I was thinking about Jack, how we both do that chokey laugh when we’re tired, and I wondered if we had any other similarities. And then I realised you’ve never actually seen any of my photos. Would you want to look at them?” 
“Please,” he says immediately. “Yes. I’d love to see them.” 
You lay the album out on the coffee table. Aaron sits beside you on the couch, and Jack sits on his feet, and together you look through your baby album one page at a time. At first, he’s quiet. He has no idea what to say. You are a beautiful kid, you’re perfect, little baby you with a pacifier on your tummy, or in the summer sun with mud on your little hands, wearing a pink dress with matching canvas shoes and a smile so wide he can see all your baby teeth, or sitting beside a fish tank with a party hat on. 
His favourite is a photograph of you that’s been printed oddly, more sepia than colour, where you look to be eight or nine years old. He can see everything in your adult face right there in ink, your smile, the trusting warmth in your eyes when you love the person it’s directed at. Maybe he’s full of himself, but he swears it’s his smile, and Jack’s smile. Hotchner through and through. 
“I wish I’d seen you in person,” he says quietly. “Just once.” 
You tease the photograph from the plastic sleeve and offer it to him. “Sorry.” 
He doesn’t want you to be sorry. Aaron takes the photograph and stares at it against his leg, your little face, your hands behind your back, your left knee wrapped in a bandage. “We missed out on so much,” he says softly. 
“I know.” 
He places the photo on the armrest, precious and needing a frame. You melt into his arm as he wraps it around your shoulder, and you let him kiss your temple, even if he doesn’t deserve to do it yet. He’s polite about it, he knows his sincerity might feel gratuitous to you —after all, he missed out on so much. But you don’t go rigid at his affection, you just breathe. 
“I would’ve loved to have seen it,” he says, too old for tears, and yet a warmth collects behind his eyes anyhow. He won’t cry, only the feeling is there and aching as you move back and give him a typical Hotchner smile. Like he’s being silly, and like you love him. 
“It’ll be okay,” you say, “you’ve got, what, a good ten years left? You can see my golden years.” 
He laughs suddenly. “Ten? How old do you think I am?” 
“You act like you’re nearing seventy.” 
“Oh, I do?” 
You roll your eyes and lean across the photo album for another cookie. “You do! I wish we didn’t have to wait so long to meet, but it’s not like I’m going anywhere. You won’t find me so charming in a few years, so don’t worry. Now, could you leave me and Jack alone for a bit? I’m trying to sneak him another cookie and you’re getting in the way.” 
Aaron hugs you whether you want him to or not, a tight squeeze that you always seem to enjoy, before doing as you’ve asked, promising to find the jigsaw board in the garage so you and Jack can start the newest one. 
“Did you miss him?” he hears Jack asks inexplicably. 
“Who, dad?” Aaron watches you from the door that leads into the garage. He can only see your hands from this angle, your left one landing on Jack’s shoulder for a small squeeze. “I missed him so much you couldn’t believe it.” 
“Thank you for the cookie.” 
“You’re welcome! I missed you too, you know? I have to make up for all my lost time being your big sister. Here, you can hide this one in your pocket, if you want. Just don’t forget it’s there.” 
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laurasimonsdaughter · 3 months
Text
A farrier and her son were closing down the forge late at night, when the sound of hooves approached from up the road. They looked out across the yard and watched, with growing discomfort, how a hooded figure on a blood bay horse came riding towards them. Steed and rider halted at the gate, and the farrier hesitantly lifted her hand as the stranger spoke, in a voice as searing as fire:
“I am expected in the next town and my horse needs shodding.”
Neither master nor apprentice dared to lift up their eyes.
“Yes, sir,” the farrier answered and the figure dismounted.
The bay was a formidable animal, but it followed its master’s orders. The farrier worked the metal while her son worked the forge and she shaped the horseshoes exactly to the horse’s feet. But when it came to the shoeing, the nails that her son put in her hand were barely half the length of what was needed. She held them, and hesitated, and nailed the irons in place.
“What is your fee?” the stranger asked, once more taking the reigns of his steed.
“No fee, my lord,” the farrier replied. “An honour to serve you.”
The hooded rider went away and mother and son stayed behind, too frightened to speak. But barely had they gathered their courage and turned their backs to the road, or a second rider approached them.
He too was hooded, and his horse was black as night.
“One of my fellows went before me and I follow where he goes,” the rider spoke with a voice as dry as the cracked earth. “But my horse needs shodding.”
Once again the farrier worked the metal while her son worked the forge, one again she affixed the horseshoes with nails too short by half. She would take no fee for their labour, and the stranger rode off into the night.
No sooner had the sound of pounding hooves faded from their hearing, or a third set of hooves could be heard coming nearer.
This rider rode a white horse and his words dripped with the thickness of his voice.
“My horse needs shodding, for two of my fellows have gone before me and where they go I am close at hand.”
Barely a word was spoken. They shod the stranger's horse exactly like the others, and watched him gallop away. Then the farrier took her son’s hand, stood in the yard, and waited.
Slowly, at a steady pace, a fourth figure came down the road and halted at their gate. His hood and cloak were black, he carried a scythe at his side, and sat astride a pale horse.
“Three of my fellows have gone down this road, and whatever their destination they choose must be my own. If I am to go where they are going, my horse will need shoeing.”
“Of course, sir,” the farrier replied, but her son spoke up:
“But must you?”
The figure bowed his cowled head and cosigned his horse to the farrier’s care.
Again she carefully trimmed the hooves, again she expertly shaped the horseshoes, but when her son handed her the nails she shook her head. He faltered and she shook her head again. He gave her the proper nails and they finished their work.
“Thank you,” the stranger nodded. “What is your fee?”
“Whatever you deem our services are worth, my lord.”
The stranger held his horse by the reigns and for a long time he looked thoughtfully down the road where the three had gone before him. Then he looked at the mother and son, standing stiffly side by side.
He held out a thin hand and gave them each a single coin, one just like the other, before mounting his horse, and turning back in the direction from which he had come, riding at the same unhurried pace.
The farrier and her son watched him until he was out of sight and out of hearing. They stood there, until dawn broke, and the dark was chased away. Only then did they did they dare to lock the gate and go to the house, where the rest of family still slept soundly.
The two coins were placed in salt and buried underneath the doorstep. And for as long as that house stood, no one who was born under its roof was carried out of it before their time.
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zephyrchama · 3 months
Text
Hide & Seek
The House of Lamentation bustled with activity. Not only had the palace residents come to visit, but Purgatory Hall as well.
While everyone busied themselves with socializing, Luke challenged you to a game of Hide and Seek. The house made for an incredibly ideal location. After several challenging rounds of both wins and losses where you and Luke battled impressively, the game started to grow. More and more started taking interest.
"Thirty five... thirty six... thirty seven..."
Luke shouted with all his might so that his voice would permeate the house. He stood in the hallway, facing the wall with his eyes covered. You hurried to the place you knew best - your bedroom.
"Hey, let me hide with you." Mammon appeared by your side, giving you a fright.
"Seriously? Find your own hiding spot!" You told him.
"C'mon, it's more excitin' this way."
He persistently tailed you to the bedroom. There was no time to waste fighting or shaking him off. You didn't know how good angel hearing was, so just to be safe, you opened and closed the door as quietly as possible. Mammon ran over to your table.
"This'll be perfect." He kicked a chair out of the way and squatted down, ducking his head to crawl under the table. He was met face to face with Barbatos.
Mammon jumped, banging his head against solid wood, as he shouted "What the-!?"
You and Barbatos shushed him with a hiss, the two of you bringing your fingers to your lips in sync.
"What the hell are you doin' here?"
Diavolo and Simeon popped their heads out from behind the butler.
"Quiet!" Diavolo said with a massive grin. The prince was having fun.
"We're playing hide and seek," Simeon smiled.
Mammon tsked. Under the table was no good. Under the bed would have to do. He got down on his hands and knees and lifted the bedsheet.
A pair of glowing eyes stared back at him, making him yelp.
"Occupied," Asmodeus leered. Something shifted in the dark beneath him. It was Solomon craning his head to see who had found them.
"Huh? You're not Luke. Hurry and go away before Luke finds us," Solomon told you.
"Damn it. Plan C." Mammon jumped on the bed itself and began moving the covers around, hoping a messy pile wouldn't be overly suspicious. He picked up one of the many plush pillows to unveil an arm.
"I believe I was here first," a muffled voice stated.
"Are you kiddin' me?" Mammon pushed aside another pillow to reveal a face. "Raphael?"
The angel stoicly nodded and grabbed a stolen pillow from Mammon's arms. He carefully laid it back over his face.
"I hope you took your shoes off before getting on my bed," you commented as you tried to wiggle behind a shelf.
"Don't worry, I did," Raphael reassured you.
Mammon was now frantically pacing around the room in anger, his eyes darting to find any viable hiding spot.
"C'mere!" he beckoned. "It's dumb but we'll hide in the closet."
You chose to stay put at your shelf and watch.
He rubbed his hands together as if he could make this the greatest hiding spot in the world and pulled the closet handle with a confident flourish. Several "oofs" resounded through the room as Leviathan and Belphegor tumbled out.
"I told you there were too many of us in here!" Satan's voice angrily whisper-yelled.
Mammon groaned as Leviathan and Belphegor smacked his legs, going "this is all your fault!" and "why'd you have to ruin it?"
"Hurry up and close the door," Beelebub said.
"You've gotta be jokin'. Let me in!" Mammon was brash and tried to trudge head-first into what little space there was, but couldn't move a step with two siblings whacking his feet.
Lucifer, Satan, and Beelzebub remained inside the closet. They were sandwiched in tightly.
"I was here first," Lucifer remarked, irked that his siblings had destroyed an otherwise roomy and nice hiding spot. His cheek was pressed against the wall, squished. Satan was not very happy to be pressed up snugly against his big brother as the middle filling of this demon sandwich. He looked ready to scream. Beelzebub was pressed against the other wall with one of your shirts on his head.
It appeared that every spot in your room was fully occupied. There was nowhere left to hide.
Time was already up.
"Ready or not, here I come!"
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