#WHATEVER WHATEVER THOSE ARE PROBLEMS FOR ANOTHER DAY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seitmai · 1 day ago

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Many thoughts

Today, it’s Future Fest. The very first event of the year where any student sixteen and older can ditch their regularly scheduled classes and come down to the gym to talk to different college representatives, explore career choices, and interact with military recruiters. About 75% of those students are there to actually get an idea about what they want to do after high school –that other 25% are there to get out of class. Not that she blames them, of course. She probably would have done the same thing if this had been a thing when she was in school.

Fair haha

“I haven’t made my way over there yet,” she offers, pulling her arm free from the girl. “Why?” “They’re hot.” “You know, normal teenagers don’t tell their teachers when they find people hot,” she points out, rolling her eyes.

Haha but that's so much more entertaining 😅

She’s suddenly surrounded by teenage girls, and she wishes for a moment that the kids didn’t like her half as much as they did. Boundaries are important, and teenagers have no idea how they work. They tell her things she truly does not want or need to know –though it’s a double edged sword. For all the weird, practically feral comments they make, they tell her things that are important to know. How their lives at home are, if they need help, if they’re struggling. She reminds them that she loves them, but they need to remember they’re not friends.

Totally valid and important! Shows that she's very good at her job

“Yeah but we’re not normal and you’re our mom, so like…it’s fine.”

Iconic answer😂

The girls are insisting she go and talk to the recruiters, or at least look at them, so she throws her hands up and heads over. But she tells the girls they have to talk to three college representatives if she does that –they agree quickly and hurry off, though they’re watching to make sure she actually goes over there.

A deal is a deal🤝🏻

As she approaches, she can hear two of her students talking to the recruiters –one tall, blonde and holding a helmet that’s labelled “Hangman.” He’s confident, and he’s cute (she’ll give him that much), but she doesn’t particularly like how he’s talking to the boys in front of him. Beside him is another pilot, she assumes, since she’s wearing her flight suit and the helmet in front of her says “Phoenix.” She’s trying to cut in, but Hangman seems to be more interested in bragging than anything else. She catches the tail end of their conversation, something about their call signs and what they are.

Very Hangman of him 😒

Beside Phoenix, however, is someone who looks too sweet to be in the military. He’s talking to a junior, showing him something on a tablet that looks like blueprints. But he’s smiling ear to ear, seemingly enjoying whatever he’s talking about. His glasses are slipping down the bridge of his nose, but he’s too caught up talking to the student to notice. He, she thinks, is cute. And he’s nice to the students, which is important to her.

He really is cute 🥰🥹

His colleague Phoenix, extends her hand next, smiling as well. “Lieutenant Natasha Trace. It’s not a problem –we love coming out and doing stuff like this.”

I know Nat's personal mission is to encourage especially girls that they can do anything and she is just one example 👏🏻

“Me and Phoenix are –Bob over there is a Weapons System Officer,” Lieutenant Seresin explains, though he’s smirking some as Natasha –Phoenix –elbows Bob to get his attention. Bob looks up, as if suddenly realizing she’s not a student and she’s an adult, and he turns a bit pink in the ears as he sets down his tablet.

He's so adorable, I can't 😍

She’s a bit distracted, caught up in just how genuinely interested he seems to be in the whole thing. Most people aren’t terribly excited to spend their day talking to high schoolers –but Bob actually seems to mean it. And she appreciates that, because she’s someone who also enjoys working with the students (though it would be a shame if she didn’t, given she’s a teacher). It helps that he’s got the prettiest blue eyes she’s ever seen, and he’s got some sort of accent that she can’t place but it’s nice to hear.

Ahhh that's so perfect 🥰

Was it weird to flirt at school? She vaguely remembers her mom saying they used to flirt with the firemen when they came to her school, so it can’t be terribly inappropriate. It’s not like she’s doing anything lewd –she’s just talking. And smiling.

If it's not your student, not weird imo 🤷🏻‍♀️😅

“So what does a Weapons System Officer do, Lieutenant Floyd?” She asks, both because she’s interested and because she wants to keep hearing him talk. “Here we go,” Hangman says, rolling his eyes but Phoenix elbows him as they turn their attention to a student who approaches.

I hope Phoenix hit him hard lol

She waves him off, smiling dreamily as she watches him walk off. He turns and walks backwards for a moment, waving at her before finally disappearing out the hallway doors. When she shuts the door and returns to her classroom, her students are staring at her with wide eyes. And then the chaos ensues.

Ahh that's so perfect 🥰

If you ever feel up to it I would live to read more about these two, maybe a first date or something 👀

Future Fest | b. f.

Bob Floyd x teacher!reader

High school recruitment isn’t usually on the short list of things to do during the day, but it is today.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: None

Author's Note: I don't even know what possessed me but here I am. Also, the feral things the students say in this are actual quotes from my actual students.

Masterlist | Talk to Me! | AO3

She really needs to learn how to say “no” when people ask her to do things at work.

It’s a bad habit –a combination of the incessant need to be liked by everyone and genuinely caring about what the students would want–that she just can’t seem to break.

Not that she blames them, of course. She probably would have done the same thing if this had been a thing when she was in school.

The college and career counselor at the school had asked her to help out, since most of her students had signed up to go anyway (and unfortunately for those who didn’t, they got to go anyway because of her). It’s all hands on deck when it comes to these sorts of events, just to ensure that things go smoothly and none of the kids act like fools. Plus, she’s getting paid for “covering” a class three periods in a row –not a lot, but it’s certainly better than nothing.

Her task is to just walk the aisles and keep an eye on things. Talk to some of the representatives, thank them for coming to the school, encourage kids to talk to them too. It’s easy enough, and she jokes with many of the representatives that she’s getting her steps in today.

“Miss!” One of her students practically screams, running up to her and grabbing her arm. A gaggle of sophomore girls are trailing behind, carrying pamphlets for the Navy. “Have you seen the military guys?”

She peers over the heads of the students, towards the back of the gym, where the recruiters are. She can sort of make out their faces, but she’s not truly all that interested.

“I haven’t made my way over there yet,” she offers, pulling her arm free from the girl. “Why?”

“They’re hot.”

“You know, normal teenagers don’t tell their teachers when they find people hot,” she points out, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah but we’re not normal and you’re our mom, so like…it’s fine.”

They call her the school mom, which is…better than being their friend, she supposes.

Rolling her eyes, she holds her hands behind her back and strolls down the aisle until she sees the banner for the Navy –then below it, a sign advertising the United States Navy Strike Fighter Tactics Instructor Program. She thinks that’s a mouthful, though also knows the program is highly sought after by many of the students at the school. Being the closest high school to the naval air base will do that, though.

He, she thinks, is cute. And he’s nice to the students, which is important to her.

She steps around the student, standing to the side as she waits for them to finish up. From this angle, she catches the name on his tag –Floyd –and makes a mental note. However, it’s Hangman who finishes up first, and approaches with an award-winning (and cocky) smile.

“Well hello there,” he offers, extending his hand. “Lieutenant Jake Seresin, at your service.”

She takes his hand politely, shaking it, and introducing herself. “Nice to meet you, lieutenant. I was just stopping over to thank you guys for coming out. It means so much to the school.”

His colleague Phoenix, extends her hand next, smiling as well. “Lieutenant Natasha Trace. It’s not a problem –we love coming out and doing stuff like this.”

“So you’re all pilots?” She asks, motioning towards their helmets.

“Me and Phoenix are –Bob over there is a Weapons System Officer,” Lieutenant Seresin explains, though he’s smirking some as Natasha –Phoenix –elbows Bob to get his attention.

Bob looks up, as if suddenly realizing she’s not a student and she’s an adult, and he turns a bit pink in the ears as he sets down his tablet.

“I’m sorry about that, ma’am,” he offers, then extends his hand to her. “Lieutenant Robert Floyd, though most people just call me Bob.”

She takes his hand and offers a real smile –not that she wasn’t smiling properly to his colleagues, but Bob seems sweet and it's hard not to offer him a proper one. She reintroduces herself one more time.

“It’s a pleasure –like I was saying, I just wanted to thank you guys for coming out and doing this. Future Fest is our big thing and the kids really love it. Having you guys join us is a big deal.”

“Oh, I love doing stuff like this,” Bob offers, and the smile on his face just hasn’t gone away.

“So what does a Weapons System Officer do, Lieutenant Floyd?” She asks, both because she’s interested and because she wants to keep hearing him talk.

“Here we go,” Hangman says, rolling his eyes but Phoenix elbows him as they turn their attention to a student who approaches.

Bob beams at the chance to explain, taking up the tablet again and holding it out to her. “So WSO’s –that’s what I do –are responsible for manning the weapon systems of the F/A-18F Super Hornet strike fighter from that jet's aft seat. That’s just the back,” he explains, pointing to where he must be stationed when he’s in the plane. “Depending on the mission, when designated as the mission commander, I’m the one responsible for all phases of the assigned mission, especially if there are multiple aircraft involved.”

“So you’re in charge?” She asks, leaning against the table and zooming in on the inside of the plane. Though truthfully, she has no idea what she’s looking at. It’s just a lot of buttons and numbers she doesn’t quite understand. She’s certain, however, if she asked, he would explain it step by step to her.

“Like I said, it depends on the mission,” he offers, pulling the tablet back in front of him to show her something else.

She must be staring, because from a few feet away, she hears her name being called, a handful of giggles and then,

“Ooh, miss! Get it!”

She blushes. Bob blushes. Hangman and Phoenix are paying attention suddenly and laughing.

“Savannah Johnson, you absolute menace,” she scolds, standing up straight. She turns to Bob, smiling sheepishly. “I’m sorry about that, Lieutenant Floyd. You’ll have to excuse me; I need to go remind the kids that they can’t be unhinged in mixed company.”

“Only in mixed company?” He jokes, but the blush has spread from his cheeks down his neck.

“I keep a running list of all the things they say in class all year,” she offers with a laugh, and she’s very aware that she’s being watched now but can’t help it.

“I’d love to see it,” he says and she really can’t help it now as she picks up a business card with his name on it.

“This your cell phone or your work phone?” She asks, holding it up in front of him.

Bob swallows hard and shakes his head, but takes the card from her and a pen from his shirt pocket. He scribbles his number on the back and hands it back to her, almost timidly.

“I’ll send you a few when I go to lunch; then you can decide if you want the whole list.”

“Sounds great, miss.”

She turns on her heel to walk away, feeling the heat rising to her cheeks, as her students practically scream at her. She shoos them away, telling them they need to act better if they’re in public.

The bell rings for lunch, and she’s waiting for the students to exit the gym, when he approaches her this time. She turns and smiles when she sees Bob, standing just a few inches taller than her, with a shy grin on his face.

“Sorry to bother you, miss. I was just…,” He hesitates but she just smiles, waiting. “I was just wondering if you would like to have lunch with me? Phoenix and Hangman went off campus, but I brought my lunch.”

She bites her lip and nods some. “That sounds nice, actually. I usually eat in my classroom, if you want to go up there with me.”

She’d have to tell her velcro kids they need to go elsewhere today, but they would understand. Or they’d sit outside the door –either way. Bob nods and they make easy conversation as she leads him through the hallways of the school. She explains little things that he asks about –murals, artwork on display, awards. Everything he asks is tinged with actual interest and it makes her heart pound.

There’s four or five kids sitting outside her door when they get upstairs, and they all look up at her in confusion as she opens the door. Bob waves at them politely.

“Sorry guys –I have a guest today,” she explains, though she still motions them inside. “Grab a snack and off you go.”

They huff and puff but grab whatever they need from a drawer at the front of the room, then leave with a flurry of goodbyes and thank you’s. Bob watches them for a moment before taking a seat at a desk. She leaves the door open –if anything because she doesn’t need anyone assuming the worst (and the kids will). Then she grabs her lunch from the mini fridge in the corner, setting it on a desk in front of him and turning it around.

“I haven’t sat in one of these in a long time,” he chuckles, taking out his very neatly organized meal. It makes her thrown together lunch look kind of sad, honestly. “I can’t imagine sitting here every day again.”

“They hate them, but I’m hoping I get some grant money to get something better next year.”

“It’s a shame you have to get grants just to have decent things in the classroom.”

“Well, all that military spending does make a dent in the education fund,” she teases, and she’s grinning at him playfully as she does it.

“Ouch,” he puts his hand over his heart, wincing some at the jab. “I don’t know what to say outside of I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she reassures him, taking out her phone and opening her notes app. “Okay, you ready to hear some of the feral things high schoolers say when they’re way too comfortable with you?”

“I don’t know,” he laughs, leaning back in the seat. “It can’t be that bad, right?”

She gives him a look of warning, then scrolls down…and down…and down…

“That is…a long list,” he comments, peering over the top of her phone. He almost sounds concerned.

“Oh, it is,” she promises, then stops to find her favorite so far. “‘Laws are temporary but friends are forever.’”

Bob chuckles through a bite of his sandwich. “That’s not so bad.”

She puts her finger up. “‘His parents are getting divorced. I hope neither of them want him.’”

“Oh my god.”

“‘I’m going to be a legal pot dealer after college.’”

“What does that even mean?”

“He wants to be a pharmacist,” she explains with a laugh. “I’m just happy he isn’t dropping out.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” he concedes, motioning for her to continue.

“‘I learned the other day that my dad looks up goth girl ASMR online.’”

She pauses and looks at Bob, who's trying not to choke on his sandwich. Setting her phone down, she leans back and opens up her bag of grapes with a laugh. For a few minutes, that’s it —they’re eating and laughing. When they stop laughing, she reads another and they laugh again. This goes on for most of the lunch period, up until her alarm goes off to warn her she has three minutes before the bell rings.

“Oh shit,” she says, quickly packing up her things. “I have to actually teach now. I didn’t realize what time it was —,”

Bob quickly stands and packs his own stuff up, then flips the desk around with ease for her. She stares for a moment, watching how his arms flex as he lifts the desk without issue. Oh dear.

“I don’t want to be too forward,” he says as students are trying to trickle in. He quickly shuts the door, looking down at her. “But I…I would really like to take you out on a date, if you’d let me.”

Kids are peering through the little window, knocking on the door. She waves them off a bit, looking up at him with a soft smile.

“I would really like that.”

He nods, opening the door now. Kids are pushing through to get settled in, but he’s awkwardly standing in the doorway with a boyish grin and a blush. She pushes him gently out the door, but follows him out as she waits at the door for stragglers.

“I’ll text you after school.”

“I look forward to it.”

She waves him off, smiling dreamily as she watches him walk off. He turns and walks backwards for a moment, waving at her before finally disappearing out the hallway doors.

When she shuts the door and returns to her classroom, her students are staring at her with wide eyes.

And then the chaos ensues.

—————

Part Two

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aphroditesmoon · 2 days ago

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smoke signals (part iv)

lighthouse keeper!sevika x selkie!reader

summary: sevika is content with her life, the loneliness that comes with her job is inevitable. but then one day, as she reaches the peak of mundanity, almost turning into insanity, you appeared. cold, quiet, clueless, sea-sent you, like a wish fulfilment for her.

warnings: selkie!reader, reader has selective mutism in beginning. makeout (no smut yet)

a/n: a long awaited chapter, idk who will read this still but if you've been an og, thank you for your patience <3

taglist: @lilredbird101 , @djstinkyfartz @vellichor-and-flowerpetals

wc: 6k

part 1 part 2 part 3

---

Your whole life has been spent disregarding the feeling of fear that crept in your heart as you travelled. Because that's just the way you were. Ghosts could lurk beyond closed doors, and you'd find yourself kicking them open and challenging them upfront despite the fact that your heart is beating outside of your chest.

Little bird, your mother use to call you. The irony of being compared to an animal of the sky as you remained below wasn't lost on you. But that was how she saw you. Free, unafraid to soar.

And so that was how you continued to live as you cherished the memories of her, untethered to anyone or any place, uncommitted. And the freedom feels oh so good for a while. But as it goes for anything you do for too long, it will start to hurt soon enough.

But now that you've had a taste for stability, you're not sure if you could live without it anymore. It was inevitable, you know. The way you had imposed yourself on Sevika was so sudden, your presence had existed without any sort of grounding. Floating around her, making yourself fit in places you shouldn't. You'd be as easy to get rid of just as you were as easy to be taken in.

You're not so sure when the eviction would be due, but what you do know is that today, the process had begun.

You can hear Sevika conversing with the old man, Vander, as you remain seated at the corner of the boat, letting them unload her stuff in. The waves are peaceful today, the sailing would be smooth and wind gentle, you predicted.

Casting a quick glance behind you, you found that the older woman had already been focusing on the back of your head. Her piercing eyes don't move after being noticed but instead intensify. Whatever words being said by the man next to her was clearly being ignored.

In this very moment, you wished you could read her mind. While she assumes that you could already.

Sevika turns back to Vander once he finished asking his question, leaving you to the sea again. "What?" She asks him.

Vander sighed and shook his head in a fatherly manner before repeating himself. "I said, what the hell have you gotten yourself into, woman?"

Sevika responded with her usual annoyed grunt and looked away from him.

"I left you alone for a month and you've already found yourself in new trouble."

"She's no trouble, and I'm in no shit. So check yourself, Vander." She didn't mean to sound so defensive, and it wasn't like she didn't understand what he had meant with 'trouble', but she's also actively trying to avoid the facts that are currently staring right at her face.

"Oh, no? So when we get to land, you'll be handing her over to the arms of those wretches with no problem, aye?" Sevika shoots him a glare.

"I...have not come to a definite conclusion."

Vander raises a brow at her.

"You can't keep her Vika, that's kidnapping." He says matter of factly.

She snorted at the possibility of you ever being her unwilling captive. "Never said anything about that."

Vander relented and dropped the subject with another defeated sigh. She knew she was acting like a child, avoiding the truth and refusing to make the call.

She doesn't know why its so hard, she had come to this decision weeks ago when you had first appeared outside her door, and the fact that you had given her little to no information about yourself since then, just makes this issue even more complicated.

But how can she give you up to the enforcers when she knows that even they won't make an effort to really return you to wherever you came from? At first, the plan was to get you out of her hands. But now, the idea of sending you straight into the lion's den is absolutely unbearable.

The only person she'll ever really care about, and now she's forced to let you down?

She wonders if you know what this trip would really mean, you seem to be lost in your own thoughts for more than expected and she isn't sure if it's because of the change of scenery or the addition of another person in your presence that will soon be multiplied overwhelmingly.

A part of her wants to go over to you and wrap a comforting arm around your shoulder, but she's not sure if she should. im fact, she's not sure on how she's supposed to act around you at all, feeling like no matter what angle she tries to come from, the killing blow of her oncoming betrayal will be seen as just as traitorous in your eyes.

But god, what else is she supposed to do? Sevika's mind has reached a blank wall.

Impulsively, Sevika approached Vander with a question. "Say old man, you don't mind if we stay over at your place for a night or two, do you?"

Vander seemed surprised but not displeased. "Uh, sure. Why not?"

Sevika thanks him in a whisper and feels relief in her lungs as she's gifted with more time to come up with something better.

"The kids will be glad to see you." Vander added with a short laugh.

"The kids." Sevika breathed out, reminiscing about the last time she saw them, which was 2 months ago. "How are they?"

Vander shrugged, "They're well, and stubborn as usual." Vi and Jinx are your typical growing young adult and teenager. They had somehow inherited both Vander's bravery and stupidity despite not really being his children.

"The bar however, suffered many losses because of those damned pirates from last month. The kids have been helping me fix things up, but it just hasn't been the same." And that was the other issue when it came to the town, the random and consistent attacks from the pirates.

Thieving is a repetitive crime in town, but the damage that these pirates have done is incomparable.

The Black Fury pirates are notorious for their crimes all over the map and some might even call them legendary. They had only recently been invading Zaun during their little pit stops. They are well armed and not afraid to use their weapons. Even the enforcers have been unable to do anything about the sudden attacks.

Sevika can only hope that they won't be back here anytime soon.

She watches as you turn to face a different direction as the boat is finally reaching land. The silence of the journey is now being replaced by loud chattering voices of fishermen, sailors and townsfolk.

Once Vander managed to tie up the roads as the bottom of the boat meets the sandy ground.

People looked, but not at any particular interest towards the three of you as you cleared up your bags and tools out of the vehicle and made your way deeper into the crowd of lively people.

You survey your surroundings with an eager but patient manner, finding comfort in the way the voices mesh together, overlapping over eachother to the point that you wouldn't be able to make clear on anything.

You enjoyed calmness and peace, especially for these last couple of weeks. But anyone who knew you (not that there are many), would know that you truly thrived in loudness and bustling spaces that most humans find themselves in.

You jolted when you felt Sevika slip her fingers around yours, clasping your hands together. When you looked up to her as you continued to move behind Vander, she only cocked her head at the crowd and said; "can't lose you now."

You continue to gawk at corner shops and messy stalls selling cheap jewelry and greased up food as she leads you on. You could still feel her turning around every few seconds to look at you, as if afraid that you'd somehow disappear despite already being in her grip.

You didn't mind it at all. In fact, you were kind of glad for it. You were glad that she deemed you worthy enough to look back for. And you also seemed to enjoy the feeling of her strong calloused palms holding onto your colder, and much smaller ones. Buzzing warmth spread all over your body from the contact.

Although she tugged on your arms, she never pulled on it and let you walk at your own pace while you regarded the people with a keen eye, frowning deeply when you came upon a spray painted symbol of the Black Fury pirates on the passing walls.

The image had seemed to spook you for a little bit as Sevika noticed that your admiration for the dirty streets has been overtaken by something else. Your focus now shifted on arriving safely to Vander's home.

"We're almost there." Sevika mutters to you, translating your sudden gloominess to being tired and overwhelmed.

Sevika herself is not that big of a fan of chaos in the town. She favors bars and restaurants, sure. But the idea of having to be around so many people for too long have always put her on edge and increased her irritability.

She's more of a homebody, she'd say. But seeing how in awe you were of the vibrant streets and market had somehow forced her to see certain things from your point of view.

She took note of certain things that you looked at for longer than usual. The way your lips part open in pleasant surprise when being offered fresh fruits by stall sellers you've passed by in a flash, the way your eyes crinkle at the sight of rock-kicking children chasing around a dusty black cat.

And of course, the way your eyes lit up as you're met with the holy fish market, all in it's glory of sea water smell and middle aged mothers doing grocery shopping for their families.

The bar was much less full than you expected, probably because it was still morning. Only very few and sober customers were inside by the back booths being sheltered by the dim yellow lights above them. The moment you set your foot inside, you were greeted by two teenagers that came from the counter seats, welcoming the old man and Sevika with expecting smiles.

"Oh, well if it isn't the scary big shark coming to grace us with her prsence." The shorter, blue haired girl spoke.

She gave a half hug to Sevika before she slowly noticed your existence, quiet and careful behind her. "And, who's this?"

"A friend." Sevika spoke, too quickly for her own liking.

"Oh that can't be true, I thought Vander's your only friend." The redhead, who you assumed is the blue hatred girl's sister, responded.

Sevika rolled her eyes and dropped her bag on the floor before walking away with you still holding her hand. "I need a drink." She called out to the bartender as she seated herself down on the stools with you. “Of course you do.” The red head snorted.

"Whiskey neat for me and uh-" She glanced over at you and back at the bartender. "Do you got...juice-?" The bartender cringed. "Apple juice, that's it." He answers.

"Sure." Sevika sighed and nodded her head.

You didn't argue, but when your drinks came, you had slyly grabbed for hers first and tipped it over your lips before she could stop you.

Sevika stared at you with horror, watching you slam the glass back on the counter and began tearing out your throat with a violent and continous cough, hunching your back.

"Great." She groaned aloud. "Get me some water." She demanded from the bartender.

She lightly patted your back as you continued coughing up, amusement painted all over her face. "Your stubbornness is admirable, but it'll also be the cause of your death."

You chugged down the glass of water with relief while ignoring her words.

After enough time have passed, Sevika forced through the obvious elephant in the room and spoke first. "We'll be staying over here for tonight."

That part was clear to you. You looked widened your eyes in question, and then what?

Sevika wasn't sure either.

So instead of answering you, she changes the subject. standing up and clearing her throat, she then says; “I'm going to go put our stuff upstairs. But then after that. I was thinking that I could show you around, give you a little tour. How about that?"

You were unresponsive at first, mouth agape and brows furrowed in confusion. But then after a minute, you purse your lips close and gave a single nod. Sevika moved around you and grabbed the bags from the floor before disappearing up the stairs and away from your sight.

---

You're not sure how to feel at this very moment. It wasn't just Sevika and the impending doom of knowing you're about to be removed from her life. It was also the stupid symbol painted red on the fading pale walls you had witnessed a few minutes ago.

Sometimes it felt like no matter wherever you went, no matter how far you're willing to travel, the symbol will always follow from behind, haunting you for the rest for your life.

The last time you had a run in with the pirates was a year ago, at an unpopular island far away from Zaun. The incident has no significance to you.

What had really shaped your life was your first run in with them, as a baby.

There is truly no running from your past. Your mother had only managed to escape your father through death.

It was the classic selkie tale. Your poor mother had been kidnapped and forced into marriage with the pirate king of the Black Fury as he held onto her coat, making sure she'd be unable to escape.

She suffered for years by his side, and even after you came along, the sorrow and yearning for the sea never ended for her. And when the opportunity to snatch back her coat and her freedom appeared, your mother did not wait to claim the waves as hers again with little you following along.

Your peace didn't last long though, for they were relentless in tracking her down to the very ends of the worlds. And found her, they did.

You still remember pushing into the pulsing wound on your mother's chest as blood swims out freely after you've managed to remove the arrow from her skin.

He never tried to come for you. You're both glad and offended for that. You're glad that there's no target on your back, but you're offended that he perceives your existence as having so little value, being able to be so unaffected by the fact that he had robbed a child of its mother.

Sometimes it even feels like mockery when you keep bumping into them in every crook and corner of the earth you run to.

A wicked reminder of what he had ripped off of your arms. And even now, your father somehow manages to find his way into your life, mocking you as you're about to lose another person you care about.

You try to play it off for the whole damn time, but as you're sat at this squeaky stool, throat sore and apple juice untouched, all you really want to do is break down into tears.

You hear Sevika's faint footsteps nearing you and felt her hand on your shoulder seconds after.

Tilting your head up towards the woman, you're met with a certain softness in her face that she only reserves for you. She is silent at first, analysing your expression and trying to figure something out but not knowing what it exactly is.

"You ready?" She asks you then. You lifted yourself off the seat and beckoned at her to lead the way as a response.

You don't miss how she made sure to keep you on her right side and away from the open street. You noticed the flex of her palms and almost reached out for her hand first but managed to hold yourself back.

You would rather die than show to anyone else but yourself on how truly desperate for connection you really are on the inside. And so you waited for her fingers to find yours, but disappointingly, they don't.

"I thought I'd take you to the market first." Sevika says, breaking the silence. "It's less hectic this hour. If you think it's full now, wait till you see how it gets in the afternoon." It wasn't often that you'd get to see a nervous Sevika, and it was even less often that you'd get to see her rambling.

"It has like a shit ton of stuff you'd like- not that I really know what you like besides fish." She added with a short laugh. "But you're a girl, and girls usually like jewelry and sweet treats and shit, so yeah.",

“Shit” You repeated after her quietly before humming to yourself while keeping up with her steady pace. It hasn't even hit 12pm yet, but the sun is already scorching, it's heat being so strong that you're sure your skin could stretch and break under the direct streak of it.

You were grateful for the worn out roof shielding you and Sevika from the sun momentarily, but as you begin sweating from your forehead down to your back, reminiscence of the cold and welcoming sea comes in flashbacks at the back of your mind.

Being able to be one with the water again seems to be your only source of comfort for today. You find yourself peeking your head out to search for the sea once you reach the market entrance that's close to the shore.

Sevika waits for you to enter first, keeping herself close from behind. It was honestly hard for you to truly be immersed in the little shops when you can't help being incredibly aware of her presence.

It had never mattered before if she was watching you. But as of right now, you just couldn't shake off the feeling of having your every little movement be judged under her observation.

You wondered if the version of you she saw in her eyes, is the real you. You wondered if she truly sees you or if she's just seeing a skewered, misinterpreted version of you.

Well, at this point, it doesn't really matter now, does it?

Slowing down your steps, you start to notice a pattern in the stalls. They all are selling around the some thing for different prices.

One thing that looks attractive in this stall, will surely be found in a couple stalls upfront in a more expensive pricing range and maybe more choices of colour.

You lingered at the small jewelry stall that focuses on beaded bracelets and charms as a small purple bracelet attracts itself to you. It has a small seashell shaped charm in the middle with lilac and white beads around it.

The old lady selling it only offers you a warm smile as you window shopped on her collection.

"Do you want it?" Sevika asks. You quickly shook your head no but saw that she had already pulled out a few coins out of her left pocket before pouring them onto the old woman's hand.

"Take it." She cocked her head to the bracelet hanging right by your eyes. You pulled it off its hook and slipped it around your wrist with ease, grinning to yourself as it fits you perfectly.

"It's your color." Sevika complimented as she guided you forward, her hand stays on the small of your back.

"Thank you." You whispered gratuitously. She doesn't react as she doesn't hear you, but it doesn't matter as she will always know the words you never speak through the way you look at her. It's almost like you're interlinked with her.

---

The two of you spent the next 2 hours just walking hand in hand, trying out fruits on a stick and testing cheap perfumes on your wrists before picking your favourites and not buying any of them at all.

The conversations are kept short between you two, but it remained intimate somehow, real and vulnerable in a world that is anything but.

Sevika tells you about her favourite foods and how this market has been standing tall for over 30 years since she was still a child.

She had even graced you with a story on how she used to participate in thieving activities, pickpocketing topsiders that roamed the street and didn't know any better.

"Sometimes they don't even realise anything's missing." She tells you with a snort.

"It was all fun and games until one of them catches you in the act, though. These topsiders, they like to get the law involved. And contrary to popular belief, those ass kissers don't perform based on fairness."

You frowned at yourself. "You got caught?" You ask her, each syllables sounding mouthy as you spoke them. You can’t imagine Sevika ever getting caught with anything.

Sevika snickered. You don't miss the way her eyes widened slightly when she heard your voice, it always takes her by surprise. "The real question here is, how many times did I get caught?" By the bitterness in her tone, you're gonna assume it was a lot.

You feel your feet ache while walking on the street, exiting the market as it starts to get more crowded at the hour.

Sevika mentioned lunch and you could hear your stomach growl at the mention of grilled fish.

Bending down to rub the soles of your feet, Sevika stops at her tracks when she notices that you're no longer beside her. She sees you and poses a questioning look. "You good?" She asks.

You hummed lightly and decided to take the oversized slippers completely off. They never fit right since they belonged to Sevika, but either way, it has always been your nature to be barefeet.

You let out a relieved sigh and smiled at the feeling of your feet being met with the hot pavement that has been sunbathed for hours.

Sevika is amused at your antics but says nothing when you shoved the slippers into her arms before resuming your journey.

The place she takes you to next is familiar to Vander's bar, but has more space and people inside. The door rings with a small bell as she pushes it open. Sevika leads you to a small booth before heading over to the counter to order for you. It’s almost instinctive at this point. The need to take care of you. The ability to know your needs before you do. She came back soon after, sliding into the seat next to you instead of sitting opposite you.

“I um, got you the seafood set.” You nodded absentmindedly, pretending to care. There is an intense silence and awkwardness that builds itself between you and her. Sevika cracks her knuckles in anxiety, avoiding looking at you for a solid 4 minutes before eventually tilting her body to face you. You turn to face her too, pursing your lips into a small line as you wait for her to speak.Sevika opens her mouth and stutters. “I-I_” her mouth closes again, this time with her eyes too as she winces at her verbal failure. Your hand reaches out to lightly trace over her left hand that sat on the edge of the table.

Her eyes reopened as she lets out a deep exhale. “Hi.” You mumbled, starting the conversation for her. Her nose flared as a choked laugh escapes her. “Hey.” She responded.

“Do you know why we’re here?” She asks gently as she tries to read you. You say nothing, your whole body freezing at the question. Sevika lets the silence lingers for a few moments before she starts again. “I need to get you back home, sweetheart. I can’t keep you with me forever.”

Why not? You wanted to cry out to her. But instead you just stare at her, reactionless.

She keeps looking at you like she’s waiting for you to break, and when you don’t, she’s even more scared because she can’t tell how you’re feeling.

“Can you tell me anything? I could just give you to the enforcers, but I'd rather not do that.” It sounded like a threat, Sevika thought and silently cursed herself for it.

You turned your gaze downwards towards your lap, thinking to yourself. Then, you looked back at her and imitated writing on paper. Sevika got the message instantly and scrambled off her seat to find a piece of paper and a pencil. She returns victorious and slides the material towards you.

You hesitated with the pencil in your hands, knowing that whatever comes next will be a direct result of your confession. But you’ve reached the end of your rope, there’s nothing to grasp on anymore at this point anyways.

Sevika frowned as she watched you drawing a circle instead of writing. Her confusion fully formed into terror as you finished your sketch and slid the paper back to her.

She felt her throat tighten as she stares down at the drawing. “Do you know what this symbol means?” She asks, meeting your darkened gaze. You raised a brow as if to ask back; “do you?”

Sevika then pulled the paper into her hand before scrunching it into a ball, squeezing it with her fingers. “You’re with them? The pirates?” You shook your head and made an expression of disgust. “No? So you ran away from them?” She attempts again. “That’s how you ended up in the waters? Because you tried swimming away from them.”

Obviously that wasn’t an accurate representation of what happened, but that would be the easiest way to explain it to her. “I escaped.” You whispered out, voice cracking. Sevika’s intense look faltered as she stuffs the ball of paper into her jacket pocket and moved closer to you. She wanted to say something comforting, reassuring, but she wasn’t even sure if she was in a place to promise you anything at all.

The moment abruptly ended when the waiter appeared out of nowhere, placing two plates of hot meals before the both of you. In a flash, Sevika recollects herself, calming herself down as she returned to her initial seat and insisted you eat first before any more discussion is continued.

You were starving, and the sight of well cooked fish distracted you as quickly as a shark does its prey. Sevika had to force herself through every chew, her appetite had disappeared at the sight of the Black Fury symbol you had drawn out. She had so many questions, so many worries. Were you a fugitive then? Would you be killed if anyone from the crew spotted you? Would she?

Sevika watches as you devour the meal in such a short amount of time. How long had you been in the sea before you reached her lighthouse?

The ship couldn’t have been sailing anywhere near it, she would’ve seen it if it had. Your entire existence is a fucking mystery. She was intrigued as well as concerned. She has this strong nagging feeling in her chest that begs for her to protect you, a part of her that has long known what she refuses to admit. And that is the fact that she cared for you, more than one should for a stranger, or even a friend.

She wanted you too. Gods, she wanted you like nothing else. And that feeling scares the shit out of her.

And yet, attraction and all things emotional and possessive aside, the survival focused part of her is whispering in her ear to let you go. To give you up as soon as she could.

You have brought colors back into her life. You made her feel things she wasn’t sure she could still feel.

Think of all you’d lose if they discovered that you’ve been harbouring a fugitive. She urges herself.

Nothing much. She argues back. And it’s true. Sevika has already lost everything important to her. Everything except…you.

To know the exact shape of your hand against hers and never be able to feel the vreases of your palm and grip of your fingers again would feel like death itself. Even now, considering the idea of giving you up, made her feel broken, like all the air in her lungs have been ripped out of her chest. The Gods have already taken everything from her.

Once the heart is sure of what the mind isn’t, the pull would be hard to stray away from. How would she live now, in the cold and unwelcoming walls of the lighthouse?

Now that she has experienced what it was like to be warm again. Now that she knew exactly what she wanted from life. Because isn’t that what life is all about? To finally have wants again, and to live for the hope of it all.

Would it be selfish for her to ask for this one damned thing?

Just to be able to have you at arms length, always. To never know what it’s like waking up everyday being sure of your absence. I’m not asking for the whole world. She thought to herself.

But losing her would be the equivalent of losing herself and all the parts she have just learned existed in all the shabby, worn out corners of her deep and dark heart. It would break her. Is she so truly and very sinful that she deserved that?

The conversation was not brought up again by either of you once you were done eating, and the walk back was quiet as her hand held onto yours for the whole time. Her tired heart could not carry the conversation again, it would have to wait for the next day to come.

Now all she wanted was to hold you, to never see a world without you in it. And it is as if you feel the same way, with the way you lean into her touch and lets her keep you close.

—

Midnight strikes on the clock as Sevika wakes up with a gasp. Her arm reaches for you instinctively but finds only emptiness by her side on the small bed.

Her paranoia is halted as she finds you by the window. As you always are, even in the lighthouse. Sevika smiled to herself as she admired her view. She gently pushes herself the covers off and walks herself to your small standing figure.

Once you two arrived back at Vander's place, you had quickly went upstairs while she discussed the new information with Vander.

His face turned grim once he saw what was drawn on the crumpled piece of paper she had pulled out of her pocket.

Sevika knew Vander. He would never tell her to give you up, and yet she could still see through his facade and knew that he was afraid.

Neither of them had a solid answer on what the right thing to do is. It's all about perspective at the end of the day, isn't it?

Right and wrong. It all depends on whose perspective you're seeing it from.

You didn't flinch when she grasped your shoulder and remained unmoving as you stared off at the small view of the sea. There’s longing in your eyes. Your brows are knitted together as you stare away. “You miss it don’t you?” She mutters softly, snaking an arm around your waist.

Sevika sighed out softly as your back fell against her chest. “I miss it too.” And she did. She especially missed the mundane days of daily cleaning and fixing while you lurked near her like a little shadow, thinking you're subtle when you're not.

Your fingers wrap around hers as they remain on your waist, an acknowledgment.

“You know, at first I only ever took the job as a way to punish myself.” You frowned at her words, still looking out.

“I wasn’t a good person before you, never claimed I was” She murmured against your shoulder, grazing her lips gently on the cotton of your shirt. “I don't even think I'm a good person now.” She's not. She's selfish with the way she refuses to let you go.

“The lightkeeper before me went mad.” Sevika spoke.

“A shipwreck happened by the rocks, and no boats or help came until only two months later. He tried to find survivors by himself but failed. The bodies, their mangled and bloody state, it haunted him.” You tilted your head slightly, your gazes connecting as her head found safe haven in the crook of your neck.

“The stench…they said it covered the whole tower. And when they finally found him, he was just a shell of a man, out of his fucking wits.”

Your chest tightened at the visual imagery of her story. “When they explained what happened, I thought to myself; oh that’s perfect, just what I need.” A bitter laugh followed after her words. Your frown deepened as you felt sadness enter your heart.

“What a masochist, I know.”

“But then, as the months passed and routine formed, I realized it wasn’t so bad after all. It's isolating, sure. But I've always managed to feel alone even in a room full of people. The only difference now is I can see it as much as I feel it.”

“And then…” She trails off. “And then my first body appeared. You.” You twisted your neck up to lock eyes with her. “And gods did you haunt me as much as that poor man was haunted.”

There was sadness in the way she carried herself tonight. The way she held onto you like she'd never see you again. Was that the plan, then?

To lay everything out in the open one last time, in case the opportunity doesn't present itself anytime in the future?

You couldn't say anything even if you wanted to. There was desperation in the way you gawked up at her, yearning that clawed on your chest. And so you did the second best thing you could next to talking and closed the distance between you two.

Sevika had no hesitation once you’ve captured her lips with yours. Her metal hand found its place on the side of your face, cradling your cheek softly as her right arm brought you closer to her, gripping your waist with need.

The kiss was hot and passionate. You fit against her like she’s been moulded specifically for your body. Her tongue darted out and wetted your bottom lip. Gasping out softly and melting into her arms, Sevika snuck her tongue inside your mouth. You held onto the back of her head like holding onto reins and pulled on her hair. making her groan into the kiss.

Sevika is tireless now, her craving for you is carnal. Turning you to the side until you back bet the glass window, Sevika only broke off the kiss to attach herself on your neck instead. Her arms travel lower until she’s able to lift you higher and position herself in between your thighs as your legs wrap against her waist easily. Her grip on you is bruising, but you wanted all of it, the pain and intensity, everything that came with her.

Sevika tries to be gentle as her teeth finds the sensitive point of your neck, but as you whine against her, all of her composure fell apart. She bit into your neck and sucked into it, eager to mark you. Your nails dig into her back, making her moan into your skin.

She needed to become one with you, needed to be the one to make you fall apart. Needed to be the only one who knew how you'd look and sounded like in such a vulnerable position.

And she knew that you needed it too. Sevika would give you what you wanted, even if it's the last thing she'd do.

The next day, Sevika was woken up by the harsh streak of sunlight and you were nowhere to be found.

#sevika #arcane #sevika x reader #wlw #sapphic #sevika arcane #sevika arcane x reader

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ysrjune · 3 days ago

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can you write dally x uptown girl…..fluff……maybe they’re on the phone after her parents are asleep…….she’s on landline and he’s on a pay phone……and it’s cute….or maybe they’re dancing together…….or something……..

-🌪️

ᯤ ALL OF MY CHANGE, I SPENT ON YOU 〃 . . .

a/n: Yes, I did listen to payphone while writing ts 😝 Also, reader is a soc cuz I feel like it makes more sense? and it basically the same thing saur...

ring—

you didn't let the phone ring another two times in fear your parents might wake up. “Hello?” You smile into the phone, already knowing who it is. “Hey sweetheart~” Dallas's voice calls from the other side. “Hows it going? Did I wake ya from your beauty sleep?” He smirks.

“No, you know I was waiting for your call.” You huff. “Yeah I do.” Dallas responds, now leaning against the walls of the box he was in. He started a conversation about his day. How he ran from the police, met up with the Curtises, and stayed at their house for a little bit just to hang out. Nothing too interesting today. “What've you been up to, ah?” He suddenly asks after a moment of silence.

“I cleaned.. went out with a couple of gals earlier to the diner.” You say. “Nothing like running from the police.” You giggle. Dallas chuckles. “Well, then, you weren't havin' any real fun.” He responds, staring outside. “You can have fun and not be a fugitive, Dal.” Dallas laughs. “Whatever you say, doll.”

More random topics pass by. “I miss you, Dally.” You sigh. Because you're a soc and he's a greaser—you could never be seen with each other. “I miss you too. I could always just sneak over and show ya how much im missin' you.” He says smoothly. Really, you could make that happen, but it was too risky. “Dal, we can't.” You reject. “That blows.” He rolls his eyes. “Come over to the Curtis's tomorrow. Only Soda will be home, and he don't snitch. Plus, he owes me.”

You've only been to that house once. You hardly remembered who even lived there. “But that's so disrespectful! I dont even know the family, and you're gonna sneak me over?”

“Yeah? I dont see the problem.”

“You're a damn fool, Winston.”

The brunette groans and bangs his head gently against the wall. “Well, when's the soonest I can see you? I'm dying here without 'cha.”

“My folks are gonna be out of town for the weekend. it's perfect.”

His eyes light up at that. “That is perfect. I'll be there 'round 6, then.” He sets the time. “Make yourself pretty for me, okay? Prettier than you already are.”

“Stop it..” You blush.

“And wear that perfume you wore last time. Makes me go crazy.”

“Dallas!..”

“Hey, it aint my fault that you got a way of hypnotizing me, baby.” His voice was way smoother than before. You had him feeling things over the phone. The thought of your touch, scent, and pretty eyes really did hypnotize him into an idiot. He's head over heels for you, and sometimes it scares him because he's never been so down bad for anyone.

“Just.. calm down.” You giggle. “Saturday is just a couple of days away. I make sure to do all you asked for.”

“Good. I cant wait to kiss that lipstick off those pretty lips.”

More and more, mostly meaningless conversations pass by. You just wanted to hear each others voices. 15 more minutes on the phone with him wasn't enough.

“Alright doll, I gotta go. I ran out of coins.” Dallas sighs.

“Okay..” You murmur into the phone. “Stay safe..”

“Thats no fun, but I'll try.” He says and hangs up.

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaasxo @anakinca @dollfilmz @alexlovesysrjune @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira @alealuvshayden @mvst4far @prettiestmini @amiratheangel @blckberrie @literally-izzyy @litt1e-misssunsh1ne

#asks!#🌪 anon #dallas winston x oc #dallas winston x you #dallas winston drabble #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston #dallas winston fluff #matt dillon x you #matt dillon x reader #matt dillon fanfic #matt dillon x y/n #the outsiders 1965 #the outsiders drabble #the outsiders dally #the outsiders #the outsiders dallas winston #the outsiders dallas #ysrjune

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insomniac4000 · 2 days ago

Text

I have to. ChrisMD angst.

The whirring of the fridge was the only sound that filled through the flat. It was like a low droning noise, annoying like a fly who couldn’t work out how to leave through the same window they just came through in. The sound was always there almost mocking her, she sat there in the near silence, the noise crawling into her ear like an irritant as tears pricked her eyes. She never used to be like this, she never would have thought she would be this person; sat on her own at 1 o clock in the morning knees to her chest as she cried. She used to be strong, used to be carefree but all that changed when she met him. Christopher Michael Dixon; the man she loved most but also most hated in the world. The worst part was he hadn’t really done anything wrong, it was more who he was and she knew that would never change which only meant one thing.

It was never going to work.

It was difficult to pinpoint exactly when these feelings started but what was obvious now was she couldn’t keep living like this anymore. The despair, the darkness, the self criticism, the questioning every move she made. It was slowly eating away at her and if she didn’t act soon there would be nothing left.

She pulled herself together long enough to send him a message saying “will you be home alone tomorrow?” and when she got a reply saying yes she sighed and lugged her heavy and tired body to bed.

“I have to say this is such a nice surprise. Did you want breakfast or a cup of te…” Chris trailed off. When he first opened his door he was excited to see her, it had been a couple of days now and they didn’t have plans to see each other for another day but as he spoke looked at her, tired eyes which were slightly glassed over, red rings around them, bottom lip quivering. She really didn’t want to be here, she didn’t want to do this and her feet wanted nothing more but to run away from the whole situation but she couldn’t she HAD to do this, for herself.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his words and his demeanour were all soft.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered, she didn’t want to say it. She felt sick as soon as the words came out of her mouth.

“Come on what’s happened?” Chris tried to put an arm around her waist as he so often did but she pulled back, she knew if she touched him she’d fall into those arms of his and never pull away, he’d never let her go but she couldn’t. She had to be strong.

“I just can’t do this anymore Chris.”

“Do what?” Chris looked scared now, he felt scared. This girl in front of him that he was looking at seemed nothing like the girl he knew, the one he had fallen in love with.

“This. Us.”

“No, please don’t say that. Look come in, sit down we can talk about it,” Chris’s speech was rushed, he fiddled with his hands desperate for something to do, for someone to hold. Knowing that she at least owed him an explanation she nodded and slowly walked into the flat, not looking at him as she hovered awkwardly by the sofa.

“Did you want that cup of tea?” Chris asked slowly, she shook her head a firm no keeping her gaze at her battered up Nike shoes. Chris bought her some news ones a week ago but she daren’t wear them, it didn’t feel right.

“What’s going on my love?” Chris asked and she burst into tears at the name he called her.

“Please don’t. Don’t be nice don’t be you because this already hard enough as it is.” Her voice was shaky and breathless, she was barely keeping things together.

“Look just talk to me and we can work it out.” Chris reached out again with his arm but she walked away shaking her head.

“I haven’t been myself for a while Chris.” She started, hoping it would be easier to talk about her rather than do what she knew would break hers and his hearts.

“I have noticed you’ve been a bit quiet lately. Look whatever it is we can get through it together I just need you to talk to me.”

“But that’s the problem Chris. We can’t get through it.”

“Don’t talk like that. We can get through anything.” He sounded so sure, so sincere.

“Not this.”

“Don’t you love me anymore?” His voice broke which almost broke her, he sounded so quiet, his voice small like his stature. He sounded like she felt, broken. She took a deep breath.

“It’s not that I do and this makes this so much fucking harder!” Her voice got louder as she turned round and faced him for the first time. She wished she didn’t, he looked scared, concerned and like he could break at any moment. It could have been a bet as to who was going to fall first, she was sure who her money was on.

“Chris… it’s not you…”

“I beg you please don’t finish that sentence.”

“You’re amazing and you treat me well, you’re actually the best person I have ever had the pleasure of being in a relationship with but. The camera’s, the fans the comments…”

“… Forget about those!

“I CAN’T! You’re used to people making jokes about you, messaging you random stuff at stupid times of the day, noticing things and talking about them in a jokey way but in reality they are your biggest insecurities and you latch onto that and can’t stop thinking about it.” The words eventually fell out of her mouth, she had been waited to say them for weeks. The relationship went public less than two months ago and in that time things were difficult. She already had reservations about it, she started comparing herself to him and his success for weeks before it all came out in the open and it only opened the can of worms more. The were wiggling and eating away at every part of her confidence, her self-esteem.

“You just have to ignore them..”

“I CAN’T Chris. I’m not like you. I can’t shrug it off and make a joke about it in my next video. I’m not a content creator I’m a fucking building surveyor! When someone calls me plain or boring or a gold digger it gets me. Every single comment one by one has just chipped away and now. Now I don’t even know who I am Chris.” She should have felt like a load left her shoulders, she should have felt lighter but she didn’t, she felt the opposite. She was really doing this and she hated every second of it.

“You just have to learn how to…”

“No. Chris you’re not listening to me. Every single time someone has made a comment it’s just made me feel worse and worse. When I sleep at home and you’re here I cry myself to sleep every time, I sit there and stare at each comment for hours on end trying to work out what they mean. Every time I post something I second, third, fourth guess EVERY thing I do because I’m scared to make the wrong move, it’s in here Chirs,” She tapped her head for good effect.

“I’ll tell them to back off, you should haven’t to feel like that you’re right and we can..”

“…You’re not listening to me Chris. What happens when they ramp it up because I’m being a sensitive bitch, they won’t stop and even if they do stop it’s too late Chris. I’m just going to spend every moment thinking I’m not good enough for you.”

“We know that’s not true.”

“It is Chris. I cant compete with you, your lifestyle. As much as this hurts me to do it’s going to hurt me even more.” She made her way to the front door, Chris chased her as fast as his little legs could.

“Please don’t do this,” Chris’s voice pierced through her heart like a knife.

“I have to.” She whispered and she didn’t look back. This was for the best. Probably.

Chris responded in the way everyone was afraid of, he went completely off the rails. After him and Shannon broke up it was a bit of a running joke until he found love with her the other girl that had broken his heart. This time it was worrying. He had completely lost faith in relationships and instead used women as “what else where they good for.” “They just use you so I’m going to do the same.” Everyone had tried to talk to him; George, the Arthur’s, Will and even Reev had tried to tell him what he was doing wasn’t healthy but it was falling on deaf ears.

“We’ve officially lost him,” George commented one day when they were all at the pub. Chris had left with a girl a few minutes ago, she seemed much more interested then he did.

“I thought he’d do this bullshit for a couple of weeks, mope and get over it like he did before.” Will mused.

“Let me text her, maybe she can knock some sense into him,” a tipsy Arthur Frederick suggested getting his phone out. Arthur Hill took the phone from him.

“That’s a terrible idea,” the musician warned holding the phone up from the fellow Arthur to stop him from getting it.

“Plus it’s not needed,” George added staring at the group of girls who just walked in, the rest of the group looked in that direction also and it was soon clear to see why George was staring. There she was. She looked good, well dressed, made up it looked like she was with colleagues. She looked a little bit thinner than they remembered her but on the whole she looked like she was doing much better than Chris. They decided to ignore it, not wanting to rock the boat, avoided the bar when she was there, making sure they wouldn’t bump into her it was awkward as they kept looking over at her seeing if she noticed them. She only did as they were leaving, only because she was about to go to the toilet and found herself face to face with George. She stared at him, heart pumping as she wondered if he was here.

“How is he?” She asked, she could feel George’s eyes staring her down.

“You don’t want to know.”

“I do.” George simply shook his head before making his way out of the pub. She sighed, she thought he would have been over her by now as she was nothing special. Chris would forget about her but she would always burn a candle for him.

#chrismd #chris dixon #chrismd x reader #chrismd fic

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dodger432101 · 2 days ago

Note

If it’s alright, can I please request another part with the reader and Lux as parents to their Demi-god child? It’s fair to assume that Lux can’t exactly show up for PTA meetings or Career day, and given the era, I’d imagine said Demi-god would endure some bullying for not having a dad like the others. Even more so for claiming Mr. Ring-a-Ding is their dad. So, out of anger and wishful thinking, they made their bullies into cartoons, then put them in the cartoons they like to watch which includes the bullies getting into the dangerous shenanigans the usual toons get into.

Be free to ignore this if you wish. 😅

[Ohhh this hurts to think about. I hope you're happy with what you've put their daughter through /light-hearted]

Celeste is now in school. It's almost scary that they grow up so fast. She's doing great, according to her teachers. Well behaved in class, a fast learner, good problem solver, and open to making friends. Though being around other children has opened a new door that you would never wish for her; bullying.

It was to be expected, sadly. Lux never went to any parent-teacher evenings, or any other school events, obviously. He showed all his pride in his little daughter at home, but that didn't help with the children outside the house who quickly caught on to the fact that only Celeste’s mother would come into school.

“Soooo, Celeste. How come we never see your dad?” There's a snickering group of 5 kids crowded around the front of her desk. The mean ones loved to band together to pick on solitary targets.

Your daughter sighs. She's used to the pack of giggling hyenas. “He stays at home.”

“Right, right.” Their tone is clearly mocking her. “What does he look like then? Can you draw him?” She nods with a little ‘mhm’, grabbing a pencil and paper to show them what her dad looks like.

A chorus of laughter fills the classroom. “Mr Ring-A-Ding? Your dad’s a cartoon character?”

“No, his name's Lux.”

“Sureee, whatever. This is priceless!” One of the kids snatches her drawing, running off as the rest of the group follow, still laughing away. Celeste doesn't bother getting out of her seat to go after them, relieved they've at least left her alone for a bit.

When she comes home and tells you and Lux about it, you immediately urge her to tell the teachers. She just quietly nods. She's tried that, all they do is ‘have a talk’ with those kids, and the next day they're back to their usual antics. You watch your daughter become more and more worn down, closed off, depressed. “Maybe you should talk to her teachers, angel, whatever they're doing clearly ain't working.” Lux hates seeing his little ray of light so sad, having half a mind to storm up to your school and sort those kids out himself.

With a heavy sigh, you nod. “I'll go in to speak with them tomorrow when I drop her off.”

Tomorrow just so happens to be a film day.

While you talk to her teacher, they leave a movie running to keep the class entertained. It's a fairly new, popular cartoon. Celeste keeps her gaze down as giggles echo around her. A kid in front of her turns around in their chair. “Hey, weird eyes, is this one your dad too?”

“No..? Why would I have 2 dads?” She turns her eyes up to look at the kid, then around her. There's a classroom of cruel grins facing her.

The kid in front of her laughs. “We just figured your mom told you any character on a screen was your dad. Probably makes up one for every guy she brings home!” Her hands clench on the desk as all the other kids laugh at her.

Another one closer to the front of the class speaks up. “No wonder she has those freaky gold eyes, it must be some birth defect from having a whore for a mother!” Another roar of laughter starts up, all the children missing the glare Celeste throws at them.

She's put up with their bullying while it was directed at her, but she wasn't about to sit there and let them say horrible things about her momma. The light from the screen flashes brightly, cutting off their laughter. When it dims, the room is silent, and Celeste is the only one sitting down. Every other kid is on the screen, quickly beginning to panic about the sudden change of scenery. The villain of the movie steps into frame, grinning at the group of frightened children. “Well, this ain't in the script! No bother, I'm hardly against killing a few kids!”

The screams of the other children have her teacher bursting into the classroom, at first confused by the empty seats until they turn their attention to the screen. You rush in after hearing the teacher’s scream of terror, immediately noticing that your daughter was the only child in the room. She's just watching her classmates be chased around by a weapon wielding cartoon, not even smiling at the new show she's created. “Celeste Imperator, let them out! Now!” She blinks at that, a very guilty expression forming as she looks at you. The screen flashes again and all the kids appear in front of it, some crying in fear, all of them backing as far away from your daughter as they can go. The villainous toon looks from left to right, searching for the children he'd been chasing before the projector is turned off.

“I think we need to have a talk, Celeste.” The teacher walks out of the classroom, quietly followed by you and your daughter.

You both get home after a long conversation with her teacher. Celeste is, quite understandably, suspended for the rest of the week. Lux comes over at the sound of the door, tilting his head when he sees you two. “What are you doing home early, Cel?” She keeps her head down, so you answer for her.

A hand goes to your forehead as you sigh. “She trapped her whole class in a cartoon! Had them chased around by the villain of the damn thing.”

“They were fine, momma-”

“They could have been killed, Celeste! Humans are not cartoons, they can't just slip out of situations like that!” Lux looks between the two of you, keeping quiet while you argue.

Celeste stomps her foot down. “I wish they were dead! Then they wouldn't make fun of me for not having a dad!” With that, she storms off to her room, silence following the slam of the door. You sit down on the couch, guilt eating away at you. If only you'd gone in earlier about this, your daughter wouldn't be so upset.

Your God comes over, taking your hands in his. “Hey, sunshine, it's ok. Don't think either of us were expecting that.” The reassuring smile he gives you makes you feel a little better. “I'll go talk to her, seeing as this is about me.” He gives you a quick peck on the lips before going to your daughter's room. Lux knocks on the door. “Cel? Can I come in, please?” With no response, he puts his ear up to the door. There's muffled sobs coming from inside the room. Slowly, he opens the door, giving her plenty of time to tell him to get out if she isn't ready yet.

She's sitting on her bed, hugging a Mr Ring-A-Ding plushie you'd won in a claw machine for her to her chest. Her face is buried in the toy, shoulders shaking with her sniffles. Her dad hops up next to her, putting an arm around her as his antennae droop. She was nearly a foot taller than him already, so he leans his head on her arm while she gets her tears out. “I'm sorry dad, I just wanted them to leave mom alone.” His hold on her tightens slightly at that.

“It's ok, Celeste. I would've done the same if anyone said anything bad about your mom.” That's not the complete truth. Lux would definitely do worse, but he's not about to say that right now.

She lifts her head from the plushie, leaning onto the God next to her. “Why are they so mean to me?”

Lux lets out a sigh through his nose. “You're different from them, sweetheart. Humans seem to hate those that are outside of the norm, so they exclude differences. I'm sorry it got this bad, Cel, but you can't go around trapping kids for it, ok?” His daughter sniffles, taking the tissue that he gets for her with a cartoonish stretch of his free arm.

“Why not?”

He gives another sigh. “I did the same thing, before you were born. Trapped a bunch of people in film.”

Her mouth drops open at that. “You did? How many?”

“15.”

“15?!”

“I know, don't get any ideas now.” The hand around her tickles her side, making her giggle as her tears dry. “There's consequences to these kinds of things, though. I've never told you about The Doctor, have I?” Celeste shakes her head. “There's a Time Lord out there, in the universe. He's quite fond of humans, you see, hates it when we Gods mess around with them.” Lux stares at the door. “He found me. Even my power was nothing to him. I was separated from your mother for 5 years.” He looks up at his daughter. “It would break your mother's heart if she had to be without you for that amount of time. She didn't do well without me for that long, if she lost you..”

The young girl puts the Ring-A-Ding plushie to the side, hugging her dad. “I don't want momma to be sad.” Lux smiles up at her.

“That's my little ray of sunshine. Now. Seems you have a few days off school, huh?” He nudges her gently, smile growing at her laughter. “I'll see what I can do about those little pests, I might be able to play a trick of the light when you go back. For now, why don't we convince mom to make your favourite for dinner?” He gets a little ‘Yeah!’ In response as Celeste quickly jumps off the bed to race out of the room and find you. The God of Light chuckles as he follows her out, glad that his daughter has cheered up.

#lux imperator #mr ring a ding #doctor who #lux imperator x reader

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mc-tums-fog · 15 hours ago

Text

Stable, Typical

Fic Summary: Something like that with Hans Gruber was never going to happen.

Pairing: Hans Gruber x GN! Reader

Content Warnings: Really just mild descriptions of blood and wounds but if you need it also there's angst with little comfort I'm not sorry.

Notes:

I promise I'm working on the other fic but I'm currently rotating Hans Gruber in my brain and so I wanted to write something down.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

Even if you weren’t in your own bed, it normally wouldn’t take you long before you fall asleep. But considering the news report of a robbery that happened downtown occurred only a few hours ago, you couldn’t help but be awake for a bit longer.

See, you had done your best to live a stable and typical life. You worked, hung out with friends and family, did your due diligence to be an ordinary citizen. However, truly living a stable, typical life would be near impossible when you had begun dating a man named Hans Gruber.

This was not to say that the two of you were starting to get on the rocks, no, at least not in the way that could be expected. There was passion, intimacy, care, pure infatuation with one another; the time spent, how little there was as he was always away on business, could not have been more perfect.

Therein lies the problem though. What would make your life and relationship unstable or atypical. His business. His line of profession, as some could lightly call it, was being a criminal.

It should be obvious to note that this was something you weren’t made aware of when the two of you began dating. Even when things progressed, and boy did they progress, you still had been kept in the dark. You could come up with several reasons why he hadn’t told you. Maybe he liked the idea of keeping it a facade going that he was a perfect law-abiding citizen with you. Maybe he just wanted to keep his work life separated from his personal life.

Whatever the case may be, you weren’t stupid.

It was some time, a long enough time at the very least, within the relationship that you’d begin to pick up the patterns. The lavish lifestyle, the expensive gifts, the long periods of time where he was gone. You’d begun to think he was secretly married. In many ways, that kind of double life would’ve been much more manageable to address, preferable, and in some ways rational. It’s a common occurrence that could’ve happened to anybody.

Once Hans started to return some nights looking a little more ragged and worse for wear than his usual, kept up appearance, combined with the coincidence of a news report playing about a recent robbery that occurred in your area earlier that day, or hearing from the grapevine of a major robbery occurring in another country that matched up with his long periods of absences, you got suspicious. Especially when some of the gifts that he brought back from said trips were just a tad bit too close to matching the descriptions of the stolen products from those robberies.

You had done your best to ignore these patterns. After all, some of them would occur with enough time in between each event that maybe it really could’ve been written off as a coincidence. Just bad timing is all. But once you had begun noting that some of the robberies would end in gunfire and casualties, it gave you a cause for concern.

This recent robbery was one of those times. Masked, unidentifiable men robbed one of those high-end jewelry stores, holding the employees and whatever straggler patrons were there as quick hostages. Police were quick to arrive on scene as the civilians managed to get out. Shots were fired, as well as a reported high speed car chase, which there had been footage of. The cops managed to get a few good hits in with their bullets- risk of civilian casualties on the police’s end be damned you guessed- as well as ramming the vehicles a few times. But the cars were unrecognizable, with the plates covered, and they managed to evade the cops through the major traffic.

Throughout the whole live reporting of it, you had been on edge. You’d come to stay over at his place, with him explaining a few weeks prior that he would be able to have a “long needed break from work”, so you wanted to be there the first chance that you got. Already having a key to his place, it wasn’t hard to get in and lounge about with the TV on. But as the news report ended, you wondered how much of a good idea it was that you were there. With how your suspicions kept piling up, it was hard to kid yourself at this point.

Still, in your attempts to feign ignorance, you’d figure you just try to fall asleep before he got back home, playing it off that you had gotten tired from your own work and waiting that you couldn’t stay awake. You wouldn’t have to face the direct aftermath of what happened the night prior. Living your life with him in that false narrative, assuming he was always at the wrong place at the wrong time, felt easier.

You finally felt yourself begin to get into the stages of falling asleep, your eyes fluttering a bit and your breathing slowing down. But before you could finally say goodnight to today, your ears caught the distinct sounds of Hans’s front door being opened and closed. Normally, whenever you were sleeping and he’d come back, he’d take much greater care of being quieter for you. He was a graceful gentleman like that. This, however, was different. It sounded rushed with how quickly the door nearly slammed shut. It was then followed by a pair of quick footsteps, which while they weren’t coming to the bedroom, were walking around the house, opening another door.

You were more awake now, slightly sitting up, straining to listen for any more noise. Since it was quiet, with no white noise in the background, you could hear the muffled and hushed voice of a man cursing in what you recognized to be German.

You breathed a sigh of relief, instantly recognizing the voice to be Hans. But the relief was short lived as suddenly the question of why he sounded more erratic and unusual in his movements entered your mind. You didn’t know if you wanted to check just yet. You laid back down for a moment and waited. Normally, when he came back late at night and you were asleep, or at the very least resting in his bed, it would take less than five minutes for him to come into the room, get dressed into more comfortable attire and climb into bed with you, careful to not stir you awake but would whisper sweet nothings as he held you and joined you in sleeping. It wasn’t like he was always strict in keeping to this schedule, but it happened at a regular occurrence, especially after longer trips, so you expected him to do the same thing tonight.

Five minutes, or what you could assume to be five minutes, had passed and yet, still no Hans. The footsteps had stopped not long after you heard them, no other noise coming from outside of the bedroom. Now, your concern was greater. But you still weren’t sure if you wanted to satisfy your curiosity about what was going on. You just wanted to go try to get yourself back to bed and pretend that you had been asleep the entire time. That you had been just dreaming for the last few minutes. You’d wake up, greet Hans in the morning, and spend the rest of the weekend together.

A major part of you would love to keep living in a state of ignorance.

But a tiny part of you knew that it couldn’t be that way, not after tonight. You weren’t stupid.

You took a deep breath and sat up. Trying to prepare yourself to step outside. Which… you didn’t even know how to.

How would anyone even prepare themselves for a situation like this? “Hey, I’m so glad you’re back! Have you been committing armed robberies?” What a way with words. And even then, what would his reaction be to the accusation? Would he try to keep the charade going, lying to your face? Would he try to weave complicated explanations on how you misunderstood the whole situation? Or would it get dangerous? Would he decide that he didn’t want to risk his secret getting out, so he’d snuff you right then and there?

The thought of an extreme and violent scenario going down made you more awake, your heart racing. Even if you’d like to believe that you could take him in a fight, being that there were no weapons on him- which that likelihood was low-you were still greatly terrified of that outcome. You hadn’t considered it could possibly get violent. Or maybe you never wanted to. Even though the armed robberies had ended in casualties sometimes, you tried to think that maybe he would never- could never- hurt you. But you really couldn’t count on that now. If he truly was part of those violent crimes, neglecting that detail once confronting him could cost you your life.

And even if there would be no violence today, even if he admitted to the true nature of his job… What would you do?

You’ve put off even the idea of confronting him so much that you didn’t consider what your initial reaction could be. When your suspicions began you were scared and worried. And the idea of him keeping it a secret, it angered you of course. But which emotion would take over more? And more importantly…

What would this do to your relationship?

Maybe that shouldn’t be important to you, all things considered. It should be easy for you; If he had been committing acts of robbery and was a criminal and told you so, then you should leave. Get the hell out of dodge before anything bad happens to you. End what you had with him. You shouldn’t have to think twice about it.

And yet you did. Even before tonight. You staying with him even despite your suspicions confirmed all that much on how, deep down inside, you thought twice about it. Often.

It made you grimace, being selfish in a way. Here was a likely- no- dangerous man, surely to be wanted in several different countries for breaking several different kinds of laws. And here you were, worried about breaking both his heart and your own. It was even more pathetic to you that you were worried about hurting him. He had been basically hurting you with his lies and deceit at this point, what should it matter now?

But that was the problem. It did matter to you. It mattered that you didn’t want to hurt him for the same reason as to why you didn’t just break it off with him when you had stronger confirmations of his criminal activity.

You were in love with him.

You let out a shaky breath and finally got up from the bed. Whatever happened tonight, however you chose to handle the situation, or how he reacted to this confrontation, would be life altering. You only hoped it wouldn’t be life ending.

Quietly making your way to the door, you lightly pressed your ear against it to see if you could make out anything else. You could ever so faintly hear the movements of him, nothing concrete to make out what he was doing. He really seemed like he was doing his best to keep quiet now.

Turning the doorknob and opening it slowly to make sure it didn’t creak; you could now hear him just a bit better. He seemed to be taking sharp inhales, with mutterings of German that you could vaguely understand to be swears. You did your best to pump up your adrenaline and mentality to be prepared for anything, as this wasn’t typical behavior for him. At least the behavior he was willing to show you.

Making your way through the hall as quietly as you could, and peeking around the corner to where the noises had been coming from, a small light had been turned on over the dining room, where you could see Hans with his head hunched over as he looked at his left arm, using tweezers to pluck what had seemed to be shards of glass.

Numbly, your first thought was figuring that it must’ve been from when the cops had either been shooting at them from the store or when they kept smashing into the vehicles. But you snapped out of it, immediately taking in that his white dress shirt had more spatters of blood, with one being particularly huge and deep with a crimson stain on his right shoulder. The idea of him being shot worried you for a moment.

You had seen his body and seen the scars that had covered it. Early in the relationship you decided not to ask about it, thinking that it would’ve been a difficult subject to bring up. As it progressed further with your suspicions growing, you started to question their sources in your mind. And now, it seemed you had confirmation as to where they came from.

Your worry suddenly switched to an intense fear, as you must’ve let out a noise upon seeing his wound from where you were standing. As Hans suddenly looked up from what he was doing, right to your direction, and noticed you right away.

Neither of you said anything, as you kept eye contact with each other. The deafening silence overtaking the air between you two. You really didn’t know what to say, or what to do. And it seemed like, maybe for once in Hans’s life, he hadn’t had the words or actions either. You could tell his brain was moving a mile a minute, however. Perhaps coming up with what to say. Or he was waiting for you to make the move first, and to react appropriately. Whatever appropriate meant at this time.

And you really didn’t know what was appropriate. Sure, maybe laying into him would be something reasonable. Or quickly making your escape, hoping you’d be faster than him in his current state. But as you looked at him, him being slightly pale, sweating, covered in blood and serious wounds, your heart kept tugging at what you really wanted to do at that moment.

And so, you did.

Rounding the corner, in careful movements as if you were approaching a cornered, wounded animal, you walked over to where he sat. His eyes never left you as you approached him. Seeing a bloody rag on the table, you picked it up and decided to rinse it out as best as you could with cold water in the sink nearby. The soaked-up blood leaving the rag, onto your hands, traveling down the sink.

“Liebchen-”

“Don’t -” You cut him off, shutting your eyes for a moment as you gathered yourself. “Don’t say anything. If you do, common sense might come back to me and I’ll walk out of here.”

And with that, he didn’t say anything else. You wrung out the rag and walked back over to where he was. He still stared at you, waiting to see what you had planned to do. You looked down at his arm, with it still having a good amount of glass in it. Carefully, you pulled open the chair and sat down. Maneuvering the small lamp light, he brought over onto the table, likely not wanting too many bright lights on in the house, you got a better look at it. The marks left behind from the previous shards of glass, as well as the ones currently in him, didn’t seem to cut in too deep. Their scars would fade over time.

You picked up the tweezers and started to pluck the shards out. Out of reaction his hand moved as he grimaced. You used your free hand to hold his arm down in place, squeezing it down onto the table firmly. Seeing the blood seep out of his skin made you feel a bit nauseous, but you had to hold it in.

You tried not to think about how he had more than likely caused greater wounds than that.

It didn’t take long before the rest of the glass was out. You looked at the table, noting a first aid kid that was covered in a bit of blood, as well as a rubbing alcohol bottle. That’s probably what he had been searching for earlier, you thought to yourself. You placed the tweezers down and took it, grabbing the rag and dousing some onto it. You wiped off his arm.

Once you were done, the rag returning to its bloody form, you got back up to rinse it out once more. You could feel Hans’s eyes follow you but said nothing. Coming back to the table he was covering up his arm with bandages and wrapping it in a tight manner, like he’d done this before. He probably had.

Studying him, with the small light aiding you, you could see how unkempt he was. You hadn’t noticed sitting on one of the chairs was his suit jacket, which looked torn up from what you could see. His hair had been disheveled with even his face being bruised up a bit. You had to fight off the thoughts in your mind of you wanting to kiss them better. It didn’t matter that concern overtook you, you were still mad at him, and didn’t want him to give any more care than he deserved.

But then again, helping to clean his wounds was a clear gesture of intimacy and care. And maybe it was already more than he deserved.

Once he was done, you went to his ride side, where the bigger blood spot was at. You said nothing as you placed down the rag and began to unbutton his dress shirt.

“I’m going to clean your other arm now.” Your voice was low, and had a touch of gentleness, despite your best efforts. You helped him get his arm out of the shirt, very clearly being a struggle for him.

Once it was out, you could see how bad the wound had been. Using the light to point towards his shoulder, the light went right through the wound. You figured either the bullet had gone clean through, or he, or whoever else was with him, had enough time to get the bullet out. Whatever the case, you still stood up so you could have a better angle on it. You dragged the med kit over to you closer, reaching in for the contents that were of a sewing needle and some thread. Honestly, you had no experience when it came to fixing severe wounds like this. You were even surprised at yourself that you hadn’t even fainted at the sight of the wound. But you did have little experience in sewing up old stuffed animals when you were younger. It was better than nothing.

Taking the rag and pouring more alcohol onto it, you made work into cleaning the wound, not giving Hans a heads up. He let out more curses and banged his free arm onto the table. It caused you to flinch, which from the corner of his eye he noticed.

“I apologize-” He began.

“What did I say?” You looked at him.

For a moment you could see a flash of him having a look of hurt. Which nearly made you feel guilty at yourself, but you shook it off mentally. His face went back to that composed look he always had on, and he looked forward again. You hesitated, wanting to say something else, but went back to cleaning his wound.

After doing the best that you could, you head back to the sink to rinse off what was hopefully the last of the blood cleaning, wringing it out and coming back to him. You placed it down and grabbed the thread and needle. This time, Hans had more prep time to understand what was coming next and placed the rag into his mouth to keep him from grimacing even louder than he had before.

Sewing up a bullet wound hold was nothing like sewing up a broken stuffed bear. It was harder to poke into flesh, and stuffed bears didn’t let out grunts of pain every time you made a stitch. You instantly wanted to reassure him that the pain was temporary, to soothe him in any way you could, but you had to hold your tongue. It may have been childish, but you felt that in comparison to what he had been doing, he was getting off easy.

With the back side of his shoulder done, you adjusted him to face you more as you worked on the front, this time opting to sit down to get on better eye level. He watched you as you made haste to sew up the front. Not so much for his comfort but for yourself as you didn’t want to see the bruises that were on the front of his body, and how it seemed a bit hard for him to breathe.

You briefly wondered how he would’ve explained these fresh wounds had you not been awake at this time.

Once the last stitch was in, you reached over to place the needle back into the box and reached for some bandages and wrappings. Placing the bandages, you had one hand to hold them in place as you were going to use your free hand to begin to wrap it up. But Hans placed his hands over yours. You looked at him for a moment. His eyes conveyed that softness that you had been used to.

You had to force yourself to look away and pull your hand from under him. His hand on the bandage still stood in place. You grabbed another bandage to place on the back side of the wound. Once you started to wrap it up, he moved his hand as did you, placing more on his shoulder to help keep the wrapping in place. Once you felt that it was secure, you held it down to grab some tape on the table.

Placing it and smoothing it down, your hand was still on his shoulder, as you stared through his patched-up shoulder. Before you could stop yourself, you felt your head resting on it and closed your eyes. You could hear his breathing hitch. And carefully, he placed his hand on your head, giving gentle strokes of your hair.

“I’m not stupid.” You said in a quiet voice.

His movements stopped for a moment, but continued, and spoke in an even quieter voice than your own.

“I know you’re not.”

Nothing else was said that night.

#die hard #hans gruber #hans gruber x reader #die hard 1988 #alan rickman #mcwrites #anyway like ive said on ao3 i lowkey wanna keep this to be a one shot i like how it is #but if the masses want another chapter since i have ideas in my head then i could #it depends #but im now feeling more creative for the other fic so ill get on that #but would like to write more with hans overall maybe even something spicy too

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lucydixon · 2 days ago

Note

Could I maybe ask for hcs on how the loc boys would be with a partner who has chronic pain? 👉👈 Totally okay if not!

As a chronic pain girly, hell yes I can! Idk if there are any EDS baddies on here, but that's what I've got goin' on, so it's what I'll go off of inspo wise.

For those of y'all who have no idea what I'm talking about, it's a connective tissue disorder that mainly fucks with your joints. Lots of dislocations due to extreme hypermobility and joint pain. I've been managing mine for years and am lucky enough to do most things without problem as long as I maintain muscle around the joints to hold those hoes in place, and avoid any activities that could put too much strain on them. Sometimes, they get all fucked up anyway and hurt, bad.

Happy Reading <3

Euronymous He'd very quickly learn that he can't just toss you around like a ragdoll and bend you into whatever position he wants you in while you're fucking. Sure, in the moment, you're oddly flexible, but when you wake up in the morning, stiff, with tears in your eyes, he'd be horrified and baby you until you're feeling better. He wouldn't let you lift a finger.

Hellhammer You're gonna have to tell this one what you need and when. He'll get the hang of it eventually, but he's never actually had to take care of anyone but himself, and it would be a bit of a learning curve for him. He'd keep cracking jokes to try and cheer you up while you're bedridden.

Dead He would lie in bed with you all day, watching you carefully, full of quiet worry. Despite his usual aversion to cuddling in most contexts, he'd get into whatever position you wanted him in. He'd do anything to make the pain go away and would probably try and mentally will the pain to jump over to his body instead of yours.

Necrobutcher This man would actively research ways to help manage your pain. At a certain point, he'd know more about your affliction than you do and would be getting you to try new things to see if they work. He'll play nurse and help you tape up your joints, and will roll you another kind of joint to help take the edge off.

Occultus Would do anything to help. Anything. If you can't sleep, he's staying up with you. Can't comfortably hold a hot waterbottle wherever you needed it? No worries, he'll hold it for hours, only getting up to go refill it. Can't get out of bed? He'll bring you anything you need.

Faust Faust would go to all your doctor's appointments with you and take notes on anything the doctor says. On the way home, he'd carry you up the stairs to your apartment to give your poor knees a break and would help you take a warm bath and wash your hair for you before getting cuddled up in bed for as long as you needed.

Dividers made by @bernardsbendystraws Masterlist

#Lords of chaos #Lords of chaos kinks #Faust x reader #Euronymous x reader #hellhammer x reader #Necrobutcher x reader #Dead x reader #Pelle Ohlin #Rory Culkin #Jack Kilmer #valter skarsgard #johnathan barnwell #andre de la torre #Hell hammer #necrobutcher #Occultus #Occultus x reader #Lucian collier

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marisol-000 · 3 days ago

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Alright somehow I convinced myself to give it a try and I will now be attempting to make characters discussing what brand of milk to buy interesting💀💀

(Sorry for being weird on your post)

"...Hmm"

"......Hmm"

“..........Hmmmm"

"Alright thats fucking it! What the hell have you been 'HMMM'ing at for the past five minutes?!"

Jekyll didn't flinch, far too used to Hyde yelling over their connected hearing aids by now. And he didn't look away from the fridge wall of the grocery store.

"I'm trying to decide what sort of milk to buy. He muttered, taping his chin. "There's a lot of plant-based choices to consider."

Hyde scoffed, "What you care about your health now? I heard you microwave ramen like every day this week."

Jekyll froze, a sudden blush coming to his face. "Wha-uh- how do you know it's ramen? What if it's just some leftovers I'm reheating?"

He heard Hyde snicker, "For exactly 2 minutes 40 seconds? I know how long ramen takes, I'm no fool."

"Well of course you do. You wouldn't know proper eating if it bit you." Jekyll sniffed.

"Says Dr. Ramen~”

He huffed, deciding to be the bigger person and just move on. "If you must know, I'm having company on thursday. I need to impress a member of the college board, the problem is he suggested I host the dinner."

"So?" Something on Hyde's end rattled. It was impossible to tell what, but he heard a squeak that he'd come to associate with Hyde shifting in one of his chairs. "Whats wrong with the same three things you always make when you have 'company?"

Jekyll bit his tongue, turning back to the fridge. "The members wife, Ms. Mortinger, is vegan. Those three-er, all of the many dishes that I know how to make all include some form of meat or dairy."

"Ugh. Vegans are fucking psychos. No one cares about your new cruelty-free diet you're gonna quit on in two weeks Karen!"

"Hyde, vegans and vegetarians are perfectly sane and it's an admirable endeavor to want to be healthy and save animals."

"Oh yeah? Why aren't you vegan then, huh?"

"Er..." Jekyll glanced side to side, somehow hoping someone would save him from answering. Unfortunately no one was around, though that was actually rather fortunate, as it meant no one would see him talking to thin air.

"Well...uh... maybe I will!" he cried. Confidently. "It's never too late to start eating healthier! I might just start right now!"

He looked at the shelf of various milks labeled soy milk, oat milk, almond milk, cashew milk, pea milk oh that's unfortunate naming, cashew milk, and coconut milk. As well as the many 'meat alternatives’ and dairy-free cheeses already in his shopping cart.

Well, maybe not. But he wasn't telling Hyde that.

Hyde muttered unintelligibly, but with enough grumbling for Jekyll to feel as though he won.

"Yeah yeah whatever. So whats taking so damn long? Just grab one and go already fuckface."

"Well, the first thing I'm going to try is alfredo, but I'm not sure how a different milk will affect the sauce. Especially considering they're not actually milk.

There are some easy choices to eliminate, I'm pretty sure rice milk is mostly water. And I doubt the taste of almond would go well with alfredo."

"How do you know? Youve never tried it." Hyde scoffed, shifting again. Maybe to lie down? "Honestly, and you call yourself a scientist."

Jekyll pulled out a random carton and inspected the nutrition label. "Hm, pea milk has 8 grams of protein, that's a good sign right?"

"Pee milk??? Who the fuck named that? Also dont peas have shit bioavailability."

"Oh right, isn't it something like 46%?"

Hyde snorted, "I wouldn't know I'm not a fucking nerd."

"I-you literally just-ugh!"

After another five minutes of semi-quiet deliberation Jekyll decided soy milk would be his best bet and grabbed a few.

"Okay, a half-gallon is 2.86, so that's... 11.44."

"What? How much fucking milk are you buying?!" Hyde asked. He'd been unable to wait the few minutes in peace and had repeatedly sat up and down in his chair, tapping his feet all the while. Jekyll never understood why the man had so much energy, or so little patience, or... anything about him really.

"Just enough to practice with. What if I serve them my first attempt and it's not perfect? They'd probably laugh me out of my own flat!" God a disastrous dinner party would ruin his reputation, probably.

Hyde growled, actually growled, like an animal. "You know, I said this before but your life fucking sucks. You should quit your job and join my band."

"You don't have a band."

"Because we don't have enough people!! You could change that!"

Jekyll rolled his eyes, "Two people isn't enough for a band. I wouldn't be any good in a band either, I'd sound terrible. It would take ages for me to learn a passable tune, much less master an instrument."

"Thats not the point! Its not about sounding good its about having fun! Something you know nothing about mr-l-have-to-be-perfect-all-the-time-or-else-ill-die!"

Jekyll huffed, gripping his cart and heading for self-checkout. He wasn't going to be able to focus on making small talk with an employee now that Hyde had worked himself up into another fit.

"And another thing! Where do you get off lecturing me on what I eat when you eat the same shit when no ones looking! You're a damn hypocrite and pretentious as fuck for buying fake milk!"

God that was right, this conversation started over milk.

Not for the first time, Jekyll considered going deaf permanently. Unfortunately he had classes to teach and a dog to take care of. Maybe next time.

"It's unreasonable to cook everyday when I won't eat all of it! And the milk's not even for me!"

"Thats worse! You're buying plant slurry just cause some rich guy told you to and you have no fucking backbone!"

"Hyde I'm not going to go against someone's personal wishes just because you think she's doing it for attention!"

“Oh yeah?!”

“Yeah!”

.....

"Do you want to come over later and eat the practice meal?"

"Sure"

(also Yes I got this information from the Food Theory episode about milk, sue me. Not everyone can be a science professor who teaches science)

Undertale is one of those stories that works so well because I would be fascinated by any two characters interacting over literally anything. What would happen if you trapped Toriel and Alphys in a car for 8 hours. Mettaton and Flowey have to watch paint dry, who dies first. Sans and Undyne are stuck at a team-building seminar. Papyrus and Asgore are standing in line at a CVS. The possibilities are endless

#Speaking To You From Inside Your Mind #Tgs hearing aid au #Jekyll and Hyde hearing aid au #Hearing aid au #tgs #the glass scientists #tgs hyde #tgs jekyll #edward hyde #jekyll and hyde #the strange case of doctor jekyll and mr hyde #Jekyll and Hyde modern au #my fics

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teddybeartoji · 6 months ago

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also:3333333333

#he really did just need me to beat his asshwtvshfvavsha #not so tough now are you little bird #nyehehehhehe #OK NO BUT I AM VERY HAPPY I GOT HIM FINALLYY HE WAS PLAYING HARD TO GET AND IT WAS VERY FUCKING ANNOYING #i spent.. so many tickets............#i think now i wanna prioritize jy #though i think i kind of need sunday's lc too bc i don't have anything good for him smh #WHATEVER WHATEVER THOSE ARE PROBLEMS FOR ANOTHER DAY #i really do need to go to sleep hhhhhhh #ilyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!#mayor of loserville

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mercymaker · 3 months ago

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bruv comparison is truly the mind killer like damn...

#life #idk i'm mostly fine in my little bubble of just making stuff i'm passionate about #and while i focus on that it's.. alright #(considering all the other irl things i have to deal with it's like.. internet stuff is the least of my problems)#but i'm sometimes reminded that internet IS just another popularity contest #and i was never very good at those #i'm just not a particularly likeable person #(which is fine because people who like me like me for who i am)#but at the same time i feel like i pour so much of myself into the things i make #i work so so so hard i spend so much time on the little details #i focus on quality #and yet.. it feels like it's just not enough #what's the point of putting literal days of work into something #when others quickly snap a bunch of screenshots and call it a day #the notes/likes/whatever can be rough sometimes #and i start thinking 'well if this is not good enough for my friends to share with others then why would strangers share it either'#i'm uh... yeah i'm not feeling great as an artist these days #i can barely function enough to even make things #most of the time i am too overwhelmed to even talk to people #i simply cannot also be a marketing manager #i also can't just fake all the buttering up to others and pimping myself out like a product #like.. i could do it but it's just not who i am #i can't bear the fakeness of it all #anyway.. time to take my meds and go sit outside a bit and hope i feel better and more motivated to create again

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lith-myathar · 7 months ago

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#people very much want to blame readers for a lack of engagement with fic these days but frankly i think this is.... incorrect #we need to be real about WHAT ao3 is #it is an archive #it is not a space that is particularly conducive to social engagement #the most collaborative experiences i ever had around fic happened on livejournal #it was not on ff.net #like i agree that there is a depressing drop off in like...idk the idea of the social acceptability of leaving comments #and a far more pronounced divide between readers and authors #but this isn't happening bc readers suck now and they're selfish and entitled which frankly is how many posts opining about this issue sound #it's not like lurking or sorting by complete works only is NEW #these are things that have always happened #what has CHANGED imo is that the spaces where fic happens and the spaces where fandom happens are now very different #and isolated from one another #and we can blame readers for not bridging that gap all we want but it's not gonna fix it #especially since we know how well shaming people for Not Enjoying Things Correctly tends to go #like i don't have an answer to this problem but i think this ''you're entitled!'' ''no YOU'RE entitled'' back and forth #between writers and readers certainly isn't going to fix anything either #it's only going to push those two groups further away from each other #to my mind what we need is a) a platform more conducive to collabortive fic writing and fandom interaction #(think LJ or old dedicated fandom message boards)#and b) a cultural shift within fandom spaces away from this idea that authors are like... untouchable or whatever #bc from what I have observed authors who DON'T have this issue are ones who started creating fanworks from within a pre-existing friendgroup #a pre-existing readership really #and these little subsets then grow into larger readerships #the problem is how partioned all these group start #and that i think is a byproduct of an overall more hostile fandom space where people feel like they can't speak or create openly #without being in danger of running afoul of some fandom scold and their lackeys #like fandom has never lacked for drama but i do think in a post-tumblr/twitter fandom space we can all agree that shit jas gotten Buckwild #*gestures at how bg3 fandom recently speedran fandom insanity primarily on twitter*#shit is different these days and blaming each other for that is missing the forest for the trees

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tonycries · 11 months ago

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Hot To Go!

Synopsis. Getting hit by a séx technique? No problem! Of course, you’re there to help.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, séx cursed technique (he’s affected), mating press, they’re REALLY needy, fúck or díe, oraI (fem receiving), jealousy (Nanami’s), bréeding, marathon séx, teary Gojo, creampíe, spítting, cúmplay, thígh ríding, fíngering, VERY pússydrunk boys, true form! Sukuna, dp, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k (woah)

A/N. I needed this outta my mind so bad y’all omg. Have a lovely day babygirls <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Just sit on it, woman!

“Please…” Toji drawls, slow and syrupy around your puffy clit. “Who do you think you are, doll? Just sit.”

Now, the problem wasn’t that strange, low-level curse from Toji’s latest job. No, don’t make him laugh - he barely felt whatever that weak cursed technique was. The problem was the way he’d trudged back home, not even thinking of reaching for that door handle before it hits him.

Suddenly too-sensitive nose getting a whiff of your shampoo - all the way from inside the bedroom.

All the way to that dangerous, ugly little part of himself that says that if he doesn’t get a taste of you right now then neither of you are making out of this alive.

And it’s all you can do to gasp, “T-Toji what happened?”

“You. You happened. N’ I don’t care if I hafta oh-” he cuts himself off, hot lips surging forwards - addicted - to place another slow, wet peck on the sweet sweet juices beading at your cunt. “-if I hafta fuckin’ suffocate, m’gonna die if you don’t just sit, goddammit.”

“Fuck!” you keen when two, calloused hands of Toji’s loop around your shaky thighs. Pulling, dragging you down to press your entire weight down onto his slutty mouth. “You’re being so…”

He barely even hears you - too caught up on the way your pretty cunt was drooling down his waiting tongue.

Prominent Adam’s apple bobbing, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he tips his face up, up, up to let your heady juices slide down his throat. “What? Filthy? Needy? Like a bitch in heat?”

Each hissed out little word has you jolting on top of him - and Toji only tightening his bruising grip with a pained grunt to stop you from disconnecting with his ruthless lips.

“Ohhh fuck stay still, woman. S’the stuff of heaven. You’re so lucky you weren’t anywhere near me after that fight.” he spits at the feeling of you clenching around him, mouth moving a mile a minute even when he slips it past your swollen folds, dragging the muscles along all your hidden sweet spots. “So lucky. So sweet- so perfect thought I was gonna die without a lil’ taste-”

A shiver runs down your spine - all the way down to where Toji was messily making out with your ravaged pussy. Stretching you out, milking himself on your sloppy entrance. Animalistically, even.

You squeal, “Think I’m gonna die.”

“Shit- and you think I care? Just want- ngh-” And that sinful little scar rubs up against your sensitive folds when Toji grins knowingly, so deep now that his nose was pressing against your pelvis, jaw grinding against you. Big arms orchestrating each mean, long drag of your sloppy pussy up and down his pretty face. Up and down up and down up and- “What did I say? This is all because of y-you, y’know?”

And Toji’s tone is so low, strangled - that the answer almost comes out as a whine. It makes you snap your glassy eyes down to look - to gape at how utterly wrecked he already was.

Dark hair curtaining those pussydrunk, half-lidded eyes, your slick glossing prettily over his plump lips - all the way down to his cheeks, his sharp jawline. And only getting sloppier with each movement,

“Me?” you blink tearily - fuck, when did it get so good you started crying? And why was Toji much the same? Dark eyes wet and miles away.

“Mhm.”

“S’your fault for being so- so-” As if the words were failing him, Toji’s only moves to suck harsher on your throbbing clit. Obscene little smacks of his lips following your barely-lucid ah! ah! ah! “-like this.”

Even through the haze of it all, you manage out a huff of laughter, “Like this?”

For this, you get a sharp smack! on the fat of your ass. Thick fingers soothing over the sting almost immediately so that you’re not bowing your body away from Toji’s persistent mouth, “S’it so bad if I wanna taste my sweet girl?.” He moans, sounding so genuinely pained, “But I need you- need to taste this fuuuck pretty cunt so bad. Gonna die if I don’t- if I-”

“Hngh- yes- fuck fuck fuck, Toji-” your fingers threat their way into his soft hair. Tugging and pulling with each harsh lap at your cunt. Your body arching like a slut as if on command when he speeds up, “-feels too good. M’so close fuck-”

“Be messy, be loud- I don’t fucking care.” he hisses, brows furrowing in concentration. And whatever’s left of that practical little part of your hazy mind wonders whether it doesn’t hurt - whether his tongue wasn’t cramping up, mouth aching. “Jus- jus wan’ you to cum on m’tongue. You’ll let me taste you, right, doll? Want it want it want it so fuckin’ bad-”

You didn’t know who wanted you to cum more - you, or your dear boyfriend.

But when you do - you have you answer.

“F-fuck, Toji.” your gummy walls clench around where he was bullying his tongue inside. “M’cumming- M’cumming m’cumming m’- ah!”

“Give it t’me. Give it allll to me that’s it.” Because Toji’s lapping at each and every syrupy drop of your juices, moaning into your cunt as you ride him through your high. Addicted. The vibrations having your hips stuttering and unstable on top of him.

He lets his thumb draw lazy, tight circles on your sensitive clit. Unstopping - even when you’re blinking back your spotty vision, tears crinkling at the corner of your eyes at the overstimulation.

Even when you try to pull away from his ruthless mouth - little, messy strings of spit and slick snapping in the nonexistent distance.

Even when he still darts his tongue out hastily to taste you sloppily, “One more - didn’t get enough of m’fill.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Can’t- won’t wait!

Everyone knows that your husband Nanami was protective - rightfully so. Everyone knows that just a toe out of line could have the stoic man snapping - showing off exactly why he was the one that put that pretty lil’ ring on your finger.

But never like this.

Never so…crazed.

And it’d only taken one too many flirty comments from some new intern in the time it’d taken Nanami to rush over there from his latest jujutsu mission. Just for your husband to drag you away from the party, barely paying attention to anything else.

Though, when you caught a glimpse of his eyes you didn’t think he could - gaze strangely hazy, breath a bit shorter, skin flushed a delicate pink.

“Can’t believe it.” he groans, pressing you up against the wall of the nearest empty room he could find. Fat cock just nudging past that feeble ring of resistance of yours. “Can’t fuckin’ believe it. Fuck-”

You’re jumping slightly with each little profanity spat into your open mouth, bleary eyes blinking up at your Nanami. Managing out, “Is everything hah- alright, Ken?”

“Can’t fucking believe it.”

There it was again.

That low, accusing little mantra - this time panted out into the side of your racing pulse. Breaking ever-so-slightly at the end when Nanami’s bullying his swollen cock deeper past your plushy walls, the curve of his girth having you arch like such a slut against the wall.

Nanami growls, “Can’t fucking believe-” he slides two hands under your weakening thighs easily, picking you up like some little ragdoll to be split apart on his cock. Murmuring against your mouth, “Can’t believe you won’t let me jus’ fuck you right then and there, my love.”

You don’t know what shocks you more - Nanami’s words or the way he’s immediately letting gravity do all the work, sliding your dripping cunt so easily down his cock. Inch by fucking inch.

All up until your pelvis was flush against those neat tufts of blond at his base. God, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Nanami so impatient.

“Thought I was gonna die without your sweet cunt.” He was barely even breathing. Eyes glassy - crazed. Voice so deep and ragged when he whispers into your ear. “Should’ve jus’ let me fuck you out there, right in the middle of the ball. Made a scene n’ showed them all please- we could go back-”

And it takes you a few seconds to realize that this is Nanami. Your Nanami.

Seriously, what the fuck happened on that mission?

“But- what?” you squeal, gummy walls swallowing him up so readily despite your confusion. “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

And this little comment makes Nanami physically stop, dark eyes glinting with something so dark - dangerous. Brows furrowing as he utters, “Nothing. Did you forget that I’m your husband, darling?” Having you scrambling to hang onto his broad shoulders as he walks over to splay you out so prettily on a nearby desk. “Or do I jus’ hafta remind you?”

It’s all it takes for Nanami to thrust up into your heavenly cunt. One hand holding you still on the cool desk, while the other just ravages your throbbing clit in time with his needy cock.

“F-fuck, Ken— oh- yes yes yes-”

Fat tip pressing up against your g-spot like he had a point to prove, spearing you at each harsh, bullying thrust that has you pushed further and further up the desk. Over and over.

The desk shifts ever-so-slightly with every smack of Nanami’s heavy balls against your ass. Creaking - but not loud enough over your obscene moans.

“Stop-” he chokes out at the feeling of your pussy being inched away from him. You weren’t running from him that easily. Which is exactly the thought ringing through his mind when Nanami circles his large hands underneath your thighs, dragging you right across to meet his sculpted front. “Stop fuckin’ running away.” Nevermind the fact that you weren’t - voluntarily at least. “Please- need it so badly, s’like m’burning without ya. You’re gonna take my cock like a hah- g-good lil’ wife, okay?”

And Nanami knows maybe he should slow down - maybe ease you into it, first. But either it was that stupid fucking cursed technique talking or maybe the sight of some loser being all starry-eyed at you, he’s fucking you into the desk so mean.

“Should’ve- would’ve.” he’s grunting, and you already know what he’s talking about. “Saw you in this pretty lil’ dress and fuck darling you don’t know how h-hard it was to ngh keep m’self in check.” Teeth nipping and leaving little bite marks down your neck, and shit if you were in any better state of mind you’d have had the rationality to be worried about them - about how people would talk if they saw those. “N’ I would’ve loved to. Don’ know how much I fuck- w-worship this pussy, my love. How much I was dreaming about it all day long.”

The creaking grows louder.

Your head is spinning right now, “All day long?”

“Mhm…” Nanami slurs, a loose little smile playing on his lips. “Always do. But today- fuck, today. Needed to feel you or I thought I was gonna ngh- die. Or worse.”

“Or worse.”

Bang!

In a split-second, you’re back bunched up in Nanami’s arms - his cock still buried deep within you. Moving. Merciless. Even though his eyes flicker downwards at the pile of wood that used to be a desk. “Lose you that promotion.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Use?

“Use me.”

“What?”

“Use me, goddammit.”

Geto sounded almost hysterical now - words ragged, a pitch higher than normal. Staring at you with that drunk, wide-eyed gaze while you perched right on his muscular thigh. Looking as bewildered as you felt at that moment when he lets out a humorless little laugh, “That curse- fuck I should’ve known before ingesting- shit.”

Fingers frantic - almost tearing through the fabric of his boxers as he removes them feverishly.

And his cock didn’t just look rock-hard no- it looked so so angry. So painful. Flushed a pretty red at his weepy tip, leaking down, down, down straight to where you’d unconsciously wrapped your hand around him.

“O-oh.” he gasps in relief when you’re dragging your fist up his cock. Head throwing back to show off that long, beautiful neck - dusted with a blush going all the way down. “Could cum from just this fuuuck.”

And this was nothing like the Geto Suguru you were used to - the sweet talker who’d have you falling apart with just a few words. The one that treated sex like a game - where you were always his pretty lil’ loser.

“Care to elaborate, Sugu?” you flash him a smug smirk - one that makes his swollen cock twitch traitorously in your hand. “Shit, you’re so needy right now you could cum untouched.”

“You little bitch.” he spits out, greedy gaze stuck on the way you were beginning to drag your sloppy cunt up and down his toned thigh. In a way that makes it impossible for Geto to tear his eyes away from the way you were intentionally catching your throbbing clit on each and every dip of muscle, spreading your puffy folds. “You know what I mean.”

You’re batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently, grinding your hips down harder. “I don’t.”

As if to prove your point, you squeeze around his aching dick even harder, pumping your fist all the way from his soaked base up to his sensitive slit.

Immediately, he bucks his hips up wildly, precum smearing a glossy sheen all over your wrist. “F-fuck you.” he spits. “You little-” And oh you should’ve known that Geto was Geto despite whatever he’d been cursed with. That it’d only take him a split second to reach a hand over to smear the mess of sweet sweet juices you were trailing over his thigh. Bullying his dripping wet fingers between your lips, “You talk too fuckin’ much, gorgeous.”

Oh.

Oh, you were fucked.

“You really think I’d let you g-get away with hah that much?” Geto drawls against your ear, fingers dancing down to control your movements riding his thigh. “N’ after ngh- I was so nice.” He was pulling - dragging you at a mean little pace now. “Should’ve just shut up n’ taken it. Should’ve just used me when I asked.”

It’s like he’d forgotten all about his lust-drunk little state.

You’re mewling, muffled around his thick fingers. Something that only makes his lips curl up into a syrupy, smug grin, “Who’s cumming untouched now? Got somethin’ to fuck- say?”

You do - and you’re thumbing teasingly under Geto’s neat slit, reveling in the way that makes his harsh little rant die in his throat. Moving your hand up and down to first his cock needily in hasty, long movements like you were trying to fuck something delicious out.

“You little minx hah-” he’s pressing his fingers right at the back of your tongue, hot mouth kissing away the salty tears welling up behind your eyes. “S-so dirty.”

And it was dirty - your hands coated in Geto’s sheen of precum, his thigh glossy with your slick. But neither of you could bring yourselves to be disgusted - not one bit.

Not when Geto was forcing down your hips harder, bouncing his knee to match your slutty little tempo. Faster. More desperate. Letting you concentrate on driving him fucking insane with your soft hands - palming and running only on the need to making him cum. To have him spill so hotly all over your hands.

“Yeah, oh God that’s right- Use me use me use me-” Geto’s mouth slacks open, eyes heady and cracked only to eye the way you’re clenching and quivering around nothing. Your hips only stuttering - getting sloppier and sloppier with each weighty, hard slide down his thigh. He groans, “Fuck fuck fuck m’close-”

“M-me too-” you whine, voice breaking so pathetically at the end. “So much for coming untouched.”

Close - too close.

Close enough that you’re barely even noticing the way Geto’s stiffening up underneath you. Breath hitching in his throat before-

Slam!

“Wha-” Your back hits the plush mattress - so fast that you almost have half the mind to wonder whether this was some figment of your imagination. But, no, Geto’s hot tip nudging at your puffy folds was real. Dangerous. Waiting for just the right moment to rip you apart. His bated breath against your ear was real - very, very real.

��You didn’t really think I’d let you off that easy, did you, gorgeous?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “S-sex?”

Oh, Choso sounded so fucked out just from uttering that.

And you feel the way your cunt clenches at that broken, almost-whiny little plea coming from your best friend’s mouth. Big, dark eyes blinking up at you dazedly in a way that makes you tighten your legs around his waist, pinned to the floor of- fuck, which curse site was this again?

“Mhm, Cho.” you hum, drinking in the shallow pants he lets out into your mouth when you slide his leaky, angry tip between your swollen folds. Barely teasing him between your slit, “S’the only way to get rid of this technique, right?”

Clothes are torn off, breaths coming out in pants. You don’t know if Choso registers your words - shit, you don’t know if he even hears you right now.

Barely even breathing as he slides two shaky hands of his to rest up at your hips. Giving you a reassuring squeeze once. Twice. Before pulling you down in a split second.

“Yes!” the word bursts out from his lips. Choso drags your body up, up, up his throbbing length like some ragdoll - until his pretty pink tip was just circling around your sloppy hole - only to bring you all the way back down again. Barely even halfway in yet, but the stretch - fuck, the stretch had you arching for more. “Yes yes yes yes yes fuck yes if you feel just like- like heaven-”

You never thought your sweet Choso would be so needy. Would buck his hips so ferally into your syrupy sweet cunt until you were second-guessing why it ever took so long to do something like this.

Until today’s fateful little mishap with another curse, that is - and oh, you’ve never been more grateful for that stray cursed technique.

“Hngh-” you screw your eyes shut when the curve of his dick brushed against your sweet spots - unforgivingly. Spreading the fat of your ass in two big hands, trying to squeeze himself inside deeper. Again. And again and again and- “S-slow down, Cho–”

‘Slow down?” Choso breathes from below you - sounding so genuinely bewildered. Still thrusting up in stubborn, long grinds. “Y-you want me to slow down? After- after this?” He’s giving a mean thrust into your gummy pussy, eyes widening down at the heavenly view of your puffy lips sucking him up. Spread needily, bulging around his girth in a way he’d have felt sorry for if he was in any better state of mind. “Slow down- Yeah, gotta- gotta slow down.”

But he only fucks up into you harder. Stronger. Like it killed him to do anything but take you right now and right there on the floor. Messy - no rhythm or rhyme of his hips, just running on pure need and the feeling of you milking his poor cock.

And the idea of that - of your best friend being drunk on the feeling of you wrapped around his aching cock - has you a little more breathless than you’d like. Plushy walls clamping down tight.

Almost immediately, Choso’s throwing his head back, gasping out a stuttering, “O-oh so ngh- that’s what it feels like. Always- always imagined if…” You don’t get to hear the rest of his sentence because two long fingers of his are latching on shyly to your sensitive clit, rolling softly.

And if he were any less of a man, Choso would be cumming on the spot - fuck, he’d be passing out.

“Fuuuuck tighter than I’d dreamt of.” he whimpers, cock twitching wildly inside your dripping cunt. Deft fingers find a lewd little rhythm to toy with your ravaged clit. “Have to slow down- have to- can’t.”

He was out of control now. Sloppy. Teary praises leaving those pretty pink lips with each bullying piston of his hips.

“Ch-Choso!” you whine, dragging your hips down to meet his sloppy cadence.

Choso’s eyes flutter to the back of his head, grunting “Yes, yes that’s it, my baby. Say my name.” Using his inhuman strength to put pressure on your hips. “Take it- take it please. Wan’ see you full of m’cock.” All the way until the heady bedroom echoes with a loud smack! his fat head kissing your cervix, heavy balls imprinting against your ass.

And then it’s like something snapped.

Choso’s sanity - his restraint. Possibly you by the end of this.

Because in all of two seconds, he’s flipping the two of you over. Your back pressed against the cool floor, legs thrown over his shoulders until your knees were folded all the way up into your tits, Choso groans into your ear at the all new angle.

Not wasting a second longer before fucking you in this mean little mating press, abs rippling with each heavy, calculated movement.

“Baby…” Choso drags his lips up your neck, sharp canines biting down on your earlobe. Gentle - the complete opposite of his rock-hard cock. “Think if I cum inside s’gonna solve the curse?”

Oh.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - True kinda love

You thought you’d seen everything there is about the king of curses. Anything from those smug kisses he’d give you after taking care of “scum curses” for fun to the times he’d begrudgingly watch sappy movies with you - only to fuck away your tears at the end.

You thought.

But oh you’d never seen him like this - yukata torn apart, no longer fitting how much bigger was, how much stronger his form was. His true form.

Muscles just bulging on all four arms, eyes half-lidded, dark nails leaving neat little indents where he held your squirming hips sat prettily on two matching, painfully hard cocks.

Well, “sat prettily” was an understatement - right now you felt so full you could’ve just died.

“Heh, better not die on me just yet because I feel like m’gonna kill fucking everyone..” Sukuna’s large pecs rumble with laughter- shit, had you said that out loud? “Everything.” Long tongue coming up to lick a hot trail up the big fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Whispering raggedly, “God- fuck! How’d you want it? Like I’m me or like hah- this?”

It’s all you can do to crane your head up deliriously, batting your teary lashes in a way that makes Sukuna twitch so wildly.

His veins thump! thump! thumping into your gummy walls, fat heads nudging right at your bruised cervix - your lungs it felt like. Hips grinding up into yours when he’s shoving himself impossibly deeper, “Answer me.”

“Fuck!” you’re gasping, stupidly. Glassy gaze flitting down to the two angry cocks bullied inside your poor pussy. And still going. “N-no, your true ngh- form- fuck-”

“Oh yeah?”

Your words are coming out a garbled mess, making such a sly, dangerous leer spread across Sukuna’s lips. Fucking up faster. Sloppier.

Oh, the feeling had him lightheaded. Had him thankful he lost control of his powers to maintain that pathetic human image of his. Had him ramming past those rings of muscle again. And again. And again and again- oh he was fucked.

“Fuuuck, feel like m’burning. M’so lucky.” Sukuna slurs out, a free hand of his busying itself toying with your throbbing clit. Pulling, rolling in a way he knows will have you whining so prettily. “Sooo fuckin’ lucky I didn’t kill that fuckin’ trash curse.” Glossing his wrists with your sweet sweet juices, lips kissing at your heated ears. “Because now I get to see how much of a slut my girl is f’me, hm?”

The only answer he’s getting is a wet string of profanities that even Ryomen Sukuna himself is proud of.

Because suddenly Sukuna’s crashing his achy tips against your g-spot, throwing his head back at how fucking sinful it felt to be rubbing up against himself.

“Shit- yer only getting tighter.” he spits, strained. Sculpted thighs rippling underneath you where he was fucking up into you in jagged, methodical half-thrusts to mold your sweet cunt to him. “Ngh- fuuuck gonna be the death of me, pretty girl.”

“Please-” you’re clawing at the sheets, the headboard, Sukuna’s shoulders - anything and everything to keep your sanity. Begging for- what? Mercy? More? “Please please- m’so close. Kuna ngh-”

He cranes his head down to kiss at your slack lips, breaths feverish. “Damn. Open that m-mouth now, brat. Jus’ a bit- jus’ a bit more.”

Your mouth is sagging open, tongue lolling out before you know it - positioned perfectly for the bigger man to purse his lips and spit. Once. Twice.

And Sukuna knew he had perfect aim, he knew he could’ve made this easy for you - but, no, the steady stream of saliva is splattering against the side of your mouth. A large thumb of his coming up to swipe the mess across your wobbly lower lips.

“My girl deserves to be treated like the slut she is, right?”

His true form has those inhumanly large fingers moving so unfairly fast on your clit, rolling and pinching in an obscene little blur.

“Oh- oh my god-” you sob, ass stinging where his heavy balls were smacking you - sure to leave a few embarrassing marks. And fuck he’s not even all the way in yet. “Y-you’re so deep- so much. Close Hngh-”

Sukuna’s grinning, two hands helping just drag you down his sloppy length, until your sopping folds were kissing at his toned pelvis. Another dancing up to knead and grope your sloppy hole open wider, “Say it. Say who you’re acting like such a slut for.”

“It’s- fuck!”

“Say it properly, my cockdrunk girl. Say it if you wanna cum.”

“You!” your words fail you pathetically, and the only think you’re moaning next is Sukuna’s name - like a prayer. “S’you Kuna oh-”

And then you’re cumming - white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, and Sukuna’s name in your mouth. Arching into his body. His tongue slipping past your puffy lips to muffle his own moans because God this was the hardest he’d cum in his life and he wasn’t about to drown out any of your pretty moans with it.

“Oh-” Sukuna shudders, fucking you over and over through your high. Two hands carrying your weight and- shit, when did he stand up? “Yeahh, milk me like that, just it mm knew you were so good f’me-”

You’re realizing with a jolt that he’d gotten up, using gravity to his advantage and sliding you up and down his swollen cocks like some glorified sextoy. So easily. So sinfully while he filled your poor overfilled over and over.

Thick, hot globs of cum that drool down your messy cunt, so fucking much from both his throbbing cocks. Like he couldn’t - wouldn’t stop.

Enough to form a pool at Sukuna’s feet. One he doesn’t even give a second glance before muttering, “Ya better hope you’re on the pill because the curse and I are far from over, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - STRONGEST

You thought it would bate by his second orgasm.

And when it didn’t, well, surely the third time was the charm…

Or, well on the slight chance that that didn’t work - the fourth would be the last, right? Right?

“Sweetheart…” Gojo mutters, teary, red-rimmed eyes peering so unfairly into your hazy ones. Folding your trembling, limp legs back into such a tight mating press. “Jus’ one more time. Please? I promise this fifth time’s gonna be the last.”

Wrong. And here you were, folded up in half underneath the great Gojo Satoru - the strongest, the same sorcerer that can take down a special grade and let himself be hit by its cursed technique (“out of curiosity!”) in the same breath.

“A-another?” you mutter, but it comes out much more breathless than you intended. Thighs tightening involuntarily where they were thrown over Gojo’s broad shoulders. “Toru, are you sure-”

Your dear boyfriend’s only giving you a slow, lazy nod. A dopey smile spreading over his face when he spots the trail of gooey white dribbling down your poor, overfilled pussy, gushing out of you with each languid thrust. Oh- shit, when had he started moving again? You bet even he didn’t know that answer.

And before you can react, Gojo’s taking the time to pool the sinful mess on two of his fingers - promptly bullying them back into your already stuffed cunt.

Fuck, you’re not making it out of this alive.

“Shit, taking me so e-easily, huh?” Gojo’s raw, pink lips fall open when your sloppy hole stretches just enough to accommodate his long fingers. “Y-yeah tha’s it. Take it like m’good girl.” Tears of sensitivity pricking behind his eyes when you clench around him so fucking tight, your plushy walls just milking his ravaged cock. “F-fuck s’too sensitive. Too much!”

And despite his own little whines at the back of his throat, Gojo makes no move to stop.

Did he say he’d stop? Ah, his fried brain couldn’t remember anymore.

None at all, instead, he’s raising his glossy finger pads right up to his mouth. Blue eyes falling shut when he presses them inside momentarily, sucking, savoring the taste of you and him and you-

“You’re t-too much, Toru.” you squeal in embarrassment.

And that’s all it takes the strongest to let out a barely-lucid hum of agreement - pulling out his fingers with a lewd pop!

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” he leans down to hum, breath hot against your face. “But what can I- ngh- do-” Each word was punctuated by a harsh, sloppy smack of his hips against your own. Not even bothering pulling all the way out - Gojo doesn’t have to, because he’s nudging all your sweet spots so expertly anyway. Grunting out over those absolutely lewd squelches, “I just want- need you so bad. S’like m’burning from the inside hah- o-out if I don’t ngh fuck this pretty pussy.” He’s babbling deliriously, bent so far down now that your forehead is pressed up against his, thighs burning at the stretch. “-need it so bad. Need it - my one weakness, sweetheart. S’gonna kill me- gonna be the death of me oh-”

“Please!” you think you could almost feel Gojo’s cum sloshing around your walls right now. Fucking you into the mattress so hard - so deep - that you wonder by what miracle the neither of you haven’t broken anything yet.

It wasn’t a miracle - it was his reverse cursed technique, which the both of you discover only much, much later.

But for now you’re only clinging desperately to Gojo’s muscled shoulders, bones popping in protest. Fucked-out whimpers spiling from his pretty mouth each time he was slamming his poor, overused cock inside you. Teary eyes screwing shut because shit it hurt so good. Too good.

“F-Fuck!” you’re gasping when he dances his fingers straight down to draw hasty, feverish little circles on your poor clit. Fingers clawing at his persistent wrist, “Oh my god-”

Gojo hums into your mouth, “J-just ‘Toru’ is fine.”

You let his cocky little comment slide - if only because your boyfriend was smashing into your g-spot repeatedly now. Over and over.

Voice about an octave higher when he’s groaning, “Y-yeah, that good? Ngh- ah!” His hips were stuttering forwards - messy, so so needy like he was drunk on those cute lil’ whines tearing from you with each drag of his cock. “Yeah fuck fuck f-fuck yer killin’ me - pussy too good, feels like m’gonna die.”

God, he really did feel like he could die. Fuck.

“M-me too ngh, Toru.” you wrench your eyes open when something so wet splashes onto your cheeks. Boring into Gojo’s glassy, pussydrunk eyes. Crying now. “M’so close-”

“O-oh yeah?”

And then he’s speeding up - if that was even possible. Flushed skin smacking against yours harder. Just a bit more calculated. Like he couldn’t stop. Uncontrollable.

Enough for Gojo to blink away the slight haze in his eyes and actually look at you. Look at the way your lips wobble with each glide of his fat tip against your sensitive spots, the way you milk him harder when he’s smearing his mess of cum all over your clit. At those delirious little heart-eyes you give him when he only lets his jaw sag open, such fucking embarrassing whimpers of your name being drawn all the way from his overworked cock.

“Cum f’me, sweetheart.” he manages to grit out. “Cum f’me cum f’me, please. Please.”

And how could you not when the strongest asks you so prettily?

You don’t know who cums first - just that your own orgasm is a wave of tingles that shoot all the way from your toes right into your stupidly fucked-out brain. Again and again and Gojo-

Oh, Gojo can’t do anything but bury his head into the crook of your neck. Sharp teeth biting down hard at the point of your pulse as he cums over and over and over. Shooting thick, hot spurts of seed right into your silky cunt. A sinful little white that drools out of your sloppy slit - too much.

“Sweetheart…” Oh, you knew that tone - too well. “Y’know how I h-have the ah- six eyes n’ this was only our fifth round and six is really a nice num-”

“M’gonna kill you, Toru.”

“S’that dirty talk for our sixth round?”

A/N. TEARY GOJO TEARY GOJO TEARY GOJO

Plagiarism not authorized.

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