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#but you will never catch me doing that shit
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Lessons in Care
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Pairing: Line Cook!Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel loves you so much. Even though you can't cook. You're trying though.
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: A small injury
a/n: Consider this a small gift to make up for me disappearing for a month <3 This is part of the line cook au, but as I've mentioned, nothing is really in order so read however you want :) The rest of this AU can be found in my masterlist right there ⬇ love you <3
Main Masterlist ♡
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“Like this?” You shook the pan a little harder, the handle's weight tweaking your wrist at an odd angle. 
“Almost. Try not to hold your elbow so close to your body. It won’t flip right.” 
You pressed your lips together and narrowed your eyes. “This is so hard.” 
“I believe in you,” Azriel teased, an amused upturn of his eyes as he watched you struggle. 
“Why is this pan so heavy? It’s literally like 40 pounds.” 
“It’s cast iron, baby.” 
“That’s stupid.” 
Azriel barked out a laugh, red tinting his cheeks as if he hadn’t expected the sound to leave his lips. Your mouth quirked up in a small smile despite your struggle. You shot your gaze to the side to try and catch the sweet expression that still lingered on Azriel’s face.
“Would you like me to do it?” Azriel posed after clearing his throat. 
“Of course not. I came early so you could teach me.” 
“I could teach you another time. You have class soon.” 
“Why do you want me to fail?” 
“I don’t—” 
“You totally do. You want me unable to cook for myself so I’ll always have to rely on you, and then I’ll never be able to leave you.” 
Azriel laughed again, a quiet, rumbling sound. “You caught me. Now hand that over before you hurt yourself.” 
You groaned and turned slightly to evade your boyfriend’s reach. “Az, I’m serious. Teach me how to flip these stupid eggs right now.” 
“Okay, okay. Just let me help.” 
The feel of Azriel’s hand lightly sliding over yours startled you. You jumped and your fingers twitched, the sudden motion sending the tips of your fingers too far forward until a simmering pain shot through your skin. You flung the pan back on the burner instantly, its contents splattering along the stove and into the open flame. It burned a bright orange and then settled as you held your hand close to your chest. 
You hissed a breath through your teeth and Azriel’s hands were on you. 
“Shit, baby, let me see, yeah?” he stressed, mindlessly turning the burner off without taking his eyes off you. He tugged your hand at your chest with gentle fingers. “Let me see.” 
You released the tight grip on your fingers and rested them in Azriel’s open palm. “I was just surprised. I don’t think it’s that bad.” 
Azriel’s brow furrowed as he examined your burn. He tsked, pulling you gently by your wrist over to the sink. “It’s going to blister.” 
Cool water rushed from the pipes and soothed your skin. Azriel held your wrist in a soft grip and turned your hand slowly, back and forth in a repetitive motion. 
“I don’t think so, Az. It’s not that bad.” 
Azriel shook his head. “That pan was pretty hot—I’d be surprised if it didn’t.” He looked up at you. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 
You offered a gentle smile and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “You didn’t scare me.” You raised your brow playfully. “You just made me nervous. A cute guy like you holding my hand—reaching over to help me to cook. Made me all jumpy.” 
Azriel breathed out a disbelieving scoff. “I’ve done far worse than just hold your hand.” 
“Scandalous!” you proclaimed, affronted. “How can you say such things at work, Azriel? You’ll be fired.” 
“I can only hope,” Azriel grumbled. 
Azriel directed you to keep your hand under the water as he dug through a cabinet for the first-aid kit despite your protests. You truly felt that you were fine and didn’t even need a bandaid, but it was easy to forget the multitude of scars that littered Azriel’s hands and how they contrasted with your completely unmarred skin. 
That was purposeful, meaningful—Azriel worked hard so you wouldn't have to. Azriel found peace in keeping you safe and happy. 
So you let him fuss. 
“Okay, let me see again, baby,” Azriel requested, flipping the water off and reaching for your hand. Your skin stung as it met the air beyond the sink, but Azriel’s caring touch was like a balm. 
He dried your fingers with a towel and uncapped a spray bottle, coating your burn with too much of the medication before grabbing a set of gauze and tape. You stared at the materials in exasperation. Azriel didn’t notice the expression and continued to admisinister care as if you’d been in a fire.
“Az, I love you so much, but I don’t need all of that. It’s a small burn. I’ve probably done worse with my curling iron.” 
Your boyfriend only hummed and continued his work. “I don’t want it to scar. It blistered already.” 
“Yes, but—” 
“Almost done.”
You let him work. A few moments of silence passed. Azriel kept his gaze hard and his brow set in a harsh line. 
That wouldn’t do. 
Once your finger was fully wrapped and protected from everything Azriel could fear, you puckered your lips in contemplation and shook your head. 
“Still hurts really bad,” you admitted, leaning back against the counter. Azriel followed your movements, leaving little space between you. 
“What?” he questioned, a tinge of panic in his tone. “That should’ve numbed it. How bad does it hurt?” 
“Really, really bad. Like my whole hand is on fire, actually.”
Azriel—who had yet to release your fingers—stared down at them in startled befuddlement. He turned them one way and then another as if that would answer his questioning gaze, and then looked back up to meet your eyes in a way that was almost pleading. 
“I’m sorry, maybe I should—”
“You have to kiss it,” you revealed, not wanting the sad expression to linger on his face any longer. “Duh.” 
Azriel let out a breath that bordered on relief, but most of it seemed founded in exasperation. He shook his head and brought your fingers up to his lips all the same, smiling to himself as he began to kiss each of your fingertips. Even the ones that clearly weren’t burnt. He flipped your hand over and kissed the knuckles, too, capturing your eyes as he glanced at you from beneath his lashes. 
“‘M sorry you got hurt,” he mumbled with his lips against the back of your hand. “Told you you shouldn’t try cooking, baby.” 
The warm feeling that had begun to seep into your chest paled in comparison to the offended scoff that echoed in the empty kitchen. Azriel’s poorly concealed, devious smile was hidden in the kisses he started pressing into your palm, and although it would have fit the sound you let out, you didn’t pull away. 
“Azriel, you are just asking for me to—” 
“The hell is going on in here?” The kitchen door smacked against the frame as Cassian made his entrance. “Someone get hurt?” 
Azriel dropped your hand just as soon as Cassian had spotted him pressed against you, clearing his throat and turning to the disheveled first-aid kit on the counter. You brought your knuckles up to your mouth to hide your laugh at Azriel’s expense, his face flushing in vulnerability. 
“Oh, I see what was going on. You were romancing your girl, weren’t you, Az? Well, don’t let me interrupt. You came in early and everything,” Cassian teased, his hands raised in surrender. 
“We were just finishing up,” you countered, a laugh trickling through. “I have to get to class, Cass. You can start your shift.” 
“Uh huh,” Cassian smiled, raising his brows and then lowering them when he caught your hand reaching for your backpack. “You okay?” 
“She’s fine,” Azriel interrupted. He took your bag from you and slung it over his shoulder, pressing a nonchalant kiss to your head that you knew was actually not nonchalant. “I’m going to take her to school. Cover for me for 20?” 
“Sure, man.” 
“Az, I was going to take the bus you don’t have to—” 
“C’mon, baby.” 
“But I don’t even have my helmet for your bike.”
“I always bring your helmet.”
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hoshifighting · 3 days
Note
can't stop thinking about dumbification w wonwoo....he's one cocky mf and I just KNOW he'd be so filthy😩😩
what are your thoughts??
dumbification with wonwoo WARNINGS: smut, dumbification, fingering, squirting, dirty talk.
tbh you never expected this kind of shit to happen with him, least of all. wonwoo—who barely blinks when u flirt or tease, as if he's above it all. but now, fuck, he's got you on your back, legs spread wide and trembling, fingers pressing so deep inside you that your mind is starting to blank out, and all you can think about is how good it feels. you’re already a mess, whining and squirming, trying to catch your breath while he's got that stupid smirk playing on his lips like he’s enjoying every second of watching you fall apart.
“shit, look at the mess youre making of yourself baby girl, so fucking wet f'me” he mutters, voice raspy, fingers pushing in and out of you at a slow, agonizing pace. “can’t even think straight, hm?” you try to form a response, something snarky or witty, but all that comes out is a whimper, hips lifting to meet his touch, desperate for more. he’s dragging this out on purpose, you know it. trying to push you past the point where you can keep that sharp tongue of yours and turn you into nothing but a mess beneath him.
“wonwoo,” you manage to gasp, voice catching as he curls his fingers inside you just right, brushing against that spot that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. “please—" he chuckles, deep and dark, and you can feel the heat of his breath against your neck as he leans in closer. “please, what?” he taunts, fingers slowing down to a maddening pace, just enough to keep you on the edge but not enough to push you over. “you want more? or are you already too fucked out to handle it?” you shake your head, trying to clear the haze, but it’s impossible. the heat pooling in your belly is making you splash, fever spreading through your limbs and making your mind go blank “answer me,” he commands, his free hand coming up to grip your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. “use your words, baby. or is that too hard for you now?”
your brain is a foggy mess, but you try to focus, try to form some semblance of thought. “fuck—more, please, i—” your voice cracks, the words barely coherent, but it’s enough for him.
“good girl,” he purrs, and his fingers speed up, pumping into you harder and faster, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the air. “see? you can be good when you try.” it’s embarrassing how fast you lose yourself after that. the pleasure is too much, too intense, and all you can do is lay there, legs twitching, hips bucking, completely at his mercy. you’re babbling now, words that barely make sense falling from your lips as you beg for more, beg for him to let you come, to end this delicious torture. “you like it when i make you stupid, huh?”
you can’t respond. not in any way that matters. the only thing you manage is a broken moan, hands clutching at the sheets like a lifeline as the heat builds inside you, threatening to consume you whole. you’re so close, teetering on the edge, and he knows it. “go on,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear. “show me how dumb i can make you. show me how fucking good i can make you feel.”
t hits you all at once. your vision goes white, body convulsing as the orgasm tears through you, so intense you barely register the flood of wetness soaking his hand and the sheets beneath you. you’re shaking, gasping, unable to form a single coherent thought as the pleasure washes over you. wonwoo watches you fall apart, “fuck, that’s it,” he murmurs. “look at you. didn’t think i’d get you this messy.” u’re still trembling, still trying to catch your breath, and all you can do is nod weakly.
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rcmclachlan · 3 days
Note
Heard this was the place to come if we wanted to know about pregnant Buck talking to the baby about the station tasks 🤔
@dadvans is a dirty enabler. He's also the one who came up with the idea of Buck calling the kid "probie" fyi
+
When Tommy walks into the 118, it doesn't feel quite like a homecoming, but when Bobby catches sight of him and smiles as though Tommy's presence isn't just welcome, but expected, something inside him relaxes as though it were twenty years ago and he's about to walk up the stairs to sit down for another incredible family dinner. 
"You guys get called to the thing with the Aon?" Grinning, he shakes Bobby's proffered hand as a matter of course, and part of him can't help but glow under Bobby's approving gaze.
It feels a bit like he's cheating on Captain Salazar, who took Tommy under her wing the second he got to Harbor and has given him free rein to do whatever he damn well pleases when he's in the air, but she doesn't cultivate the familial aura that cleaves to Bobby like a shadow. He likes and respects the hell out of her, but he probably wouldn't steal a helicopter and fly into a hurricane for her.
Some people were meant to be parents; Bobby Nash is definitely one of them. Tommy's working on it. 
Bobby gives a sporting but ineffective swipe at the soot smeared across his forehead with his wrist. "Normally falling space junk knocking over a skyscraper would take the cake, but since twenty million bees weren't released into the city, I'm calling it a ho-hum sort of day."
There's something severely wrong with them that the third-tallest building in LA breaking in half like a Kit Kat Bar doesn't rank above bees, but Tommy had to fly through that shit storm, so he can't disagree. The next person who says 'bee-nado' is getting thrown off the Santa Monica pier.
Speaking of. Tommy throws a quick glance at the three engines parked in their usual spots in the hopes of catching a glimpse of movement, and he's either losing his touch or never had it to begin with, because he's clocked immediately.
Bobby gives him a knowing look.
Caught, Tommy chuckles. "At the risk of sounding patronizing, how much did he overdo it?"
"Buck didn't mind being on winch and hose duty," Bobby says wryly. At Tommy's dubious look, he adds, "Okay, he did try to sneak into the thick of it once or twice, but he complained only a little when I threatened to hogtie him and chuck him in the back of the ambulance."
"Only a little? That's unlike him." Tommy can perfectly picture the mulish pout on Evan's ridiculous lips because someone forbade him from running into a building that was hanging at a 240° angle. 
"Hen may have also hinted that she'd break out The Powerpoint again if he didn't stop whining," Bobby admits. The capital letters are audible.
Tommy gives a low whistle. "That was diabolical of her."
He unfortunately hadn't been there when Hen presented You're Living For Two: A Comprehensive List of Things Buck Will Avoid for the Next 8 Months or Hen Will Have Him Committed (With A Foreword Written By Maddie Han) to Evan and the rest of the 118, but Eddie had texted Tommy throughout the whole thing like he was live tweeting a football game. At slide 40, which had five charts demonstrating the rates at which acute physical stress increased the risks of miscarriage and low birth weight, Eddie sent him a picture of Evan's cowed expression. Slide 43 ("Deli Meat A No-No"), on the other hand, got him a video of Evan in a heated argument with Hen, Howie, and Bobby about the merits of that. 
It ended when Bobby shouted, "It's not just you that you're risking, Buck! Every time you deliberately put yourself into harm's way, you're also risking my grandchild!" and Evan burst into tears and sobbed, "You can't say things like that when you're taking hot dogs away from me!" 
When Evan came home that day, he announced that mentioning The PowerPoint—and anything to do with Microsoft in general—was verboten for the next thousand years. Tommy couldn't help but quip, "It looks like you're upset about your family wanting you to carry this pregnancy safely to term. Would you like help? Yes, no, or cancel?" 
He was forced to sleep on the couch for three nights. He regrets nothing.
"Where is everyone?" The station is eerily quiet for a day spent trying to get ahead of a falling building.
"Burrito run. Buck volunteered to stay behind. He still getting carsick in traffic?"
"Let's just say we've been putting the emesis bags Howie gave us to very good use. Is he busy?" Tommy lifts the bag in his hand so Bobby can see the grinning face of the Colonel himself. "I come bearing gifts."
Bobby laughs the laugh of a man who knows firsthand that Evan's insatiable cravings for KFC's mashed potatoes are the only thing keeping the lights on at the location on W Pico Boulevard. He gestures past Tommy toward the engines. "Last I saw him, he was giving a class on proper hose maintenance."
"Appreciate it, Bobby," he says and starts heading in that direction.
"Tell him he'd better not be promoting bad coupling habits." Tommy turns around, wide-eyed, but Bobby's already got a hand up to forestall the laughter he must know is inevitable. Bobby's grimacing so hard it looks like he might severe his carotid. "I regretted it the second I said it. Do me a favor and phrase it a little better?"
"I make no promises." Snickering, Tommy turns back to the engines and swings the KFC bag cheerfully as he goes, making a mental note to mention this in the OG 118 group chat. That ought to give Howie enough ammo to last through Christmas. 
As he rounds Engine 3, he hears the susurrus of voices, which he expected, but as he gets closer he realizes it's just one voice, which he didn't. He comes to a stop right where the engine's rear strip on the storage compartment ends and ducks behind it a little to try and figure out exactly what he's looking at.
Bobby had said Evan was teaching and Tommy figured that meant he was holding court with the station's two newest recruits, but he's kneeling on the floor and carefully re-rolling a hose while he talks to an audience of precisely zero.
"Now this is called a straight roll," Evan says, voice modulated to be slow and easily understood. It's textbook perfect pacing. Tommy has no clue who it's for. Maybe he's filming a video? "I'm folding the male coupling over and then rolling it to the female coupling, which are unnecessarily gendered terms, but I wasn't in the room when they came up with the names, so."
Tommy's so distracted by how the muscles in Evan's arms strain against the sleeves of his uniform as he methodically rolls the hose that he almost misses what Evan says next.
"Now Daddy wants to do a Dutch roll, because it takes about five seconds and it's hilarious, but Grandpa Bobby would slaughter Daddy if he ever found out. Apparently letting the couplings drag on the ground is the eighth deadly sin." Evan rests back on his shins and pants a little, then pats the planetary curve of his belly with a grin. "Hope you're taking notes, probie. There will be a test."
There are two things in Tommy's life that he will never be able to forget, even if he had a full-frontal lobotomy; even if he wanted to:
The first is the way Evan's shoulders curled inwards as if bracing for a blow while he haltingly apologized about goading Tommy into fucking him after the condom ripped, about how Tommy didn't have to worry because Evan was relieving him of all responsibility, and that he didn't have any expectations because Tommy never asked for this and he hoped someday Tommy would forgive him for keeping what they'd accidentally created together. 
Tommy isn't a violent man, but sometimes he fantasizes about going back through Evan's life and beating the shit out of everyone who ever made him feel unwanted, or treated him like a consolation prize. Even in the early days of their relationship, when Tommy's respect for certain boundaries or simple acts of kindness would make Evan visibly recalibrate, Tommy had to stop himself from demanding a list of names. He has one now, and part of him would like nothing more than to start with Evan's parents and work his way down.
The second is the teary, disbelieving grin that broke across Evan's face like a sunrise when the sonographer pressed the ultrasound wand to his belly and the room filled with the jackrabbiting whup-whup-whup sound of their kid's heartbeat. Evan had looked over at him, laughed wetly at the struck-dumb expression Tommy knew he was sporting, and said, "Sounds like the Bell 206." 
When he reached out for Tommy, the fluorescent lights had glinted off the engagement band Tommy'd bought like a complete lunatic four months after Evan kissed him in the lobby of First Presbyterian. He'd kept it hidden in his toolbox until three months later, when Evan put on a brave face and tried to let him off the hook. 
But he didn't have far to go, because Tommy was already reaching back for him. The metal of the ring was warm where it pressed against his fingers. And if his heart was so full of love and wonder that he cried a little, no one commented on it. Well, Evan did when they got in Tommy's truck after their appointment and then went straight to KFC, but that was to be expected. He'd taken the ribbing like a champ. 
Watching Evan—now in the second week of his third trimester, the hem of his shirt fighting for its life where it stretches around his belly—earnestly teaching the kid still cooking inside him about proper hose care, Tommy knows he'll never forget this one either. He's pretty sure his life is going to be one unforgettable moment after another from here on out.
Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he walks out from behind the engine and gets a hand under Evan's elbow to help him get to his feet. It takes every ounce of his willpower to stand back and let Evan carry the hose over to its compartment and attach it to the main connection site himself. He's learned to grit his teeth and give help only when it's asked for. He has no desire to start up that argument again.
"So?" Tommy happily takes Evan into his arms while Evan happily takes the KFC bag out of his hand. "Is our kid going to graduate from the Academy or wash out completely?"
Evan grins at him. Tommy knows at least 45% of the love in his eyes is reserved for the mashed potatoes. "I'm calling it now: they're gonna be fire chief by the time they're twenty. Youngest in the entire country. What do you think, probie? You up for the challenge?"
Tommy places a hand gently on Evan's belly and immediately feels movement against his palm. Their kid hasn't given Evan a moment's peace since week 15; at any given moment, they're flipping around in there like they're doing zero-gravity training for a space mission. The familiar fluttering feeling makes his heart cramp. 
That's their kid in there. They made that.
"I think that's a yes," Tommy murmurs, pressing a kiss to Evan's temple, then hanging there for a moment, breathing him in. Breathing them in. "Love you."
"God, I love you so much, you don't even know," Evan says, cracking open a container with a pleased hum.
Tommy smiles dopily, then reality trickles in. "You're talking to the potatoes, aren't you?"
"Of course not," Evan lies through a mouthful of KFC's finest spuds.
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Note
Thinking about reader finally stumbling onto one of the dogs shifted into their human form. Maybe Soap raiding the cabinets in the kitchen for a late night snack? Reader obviously freaks tf out about a whole ass man in their house... but the rest of the force are still in their dog forms. Reader's confused why their once very protective dogs are completely okay with this strange man in their house, and why this man is claiming to be one of her dogs.
(Note that these answers are non-linear! I’ll be having fun with a few more asks/requests as if this hasn’t happened yet 😉)
All you wanted was some water to ease the dryness in your throat, but as soon as they noticed you picking up your phone from the bedside table, the dogs kept tugging at your clothes to hold you back—something they never did. You swatted them away without thinking much of it, though, too sleep-adled to think that maybe, just maybe, they were doing it for good reason.
And then you saw the man in your kitchen.
“Why are you naked.”
It wasn’t much of a question. More of a statement—or an exaggeration, really—because he wasn’t naked. He was just wearing sweatpants that hung low on his hips, exposing a deep V-line and a happy trail that would’ve had you drooling if not for the sheer strangeness of the circumstances. At first, you weren’t even sure if you should be afraid—because it was comedic, the way he locked eyes with you, halfway through chomping down on a spoonful of cereal from not even a bowl, but a mug.
He swallows hard, and that’s when you grab a knife—earning several barks from your dogs. At you. Not him.
“He’s literally the intruder here!” you argue back. “You bark at, like, every other guy? What about him?! He’s massive!”
“Aw, thank y—“
“That wasn’t a compliment!”
The man’s smile tightens as he slowly puts the mug and spoon down, and lifts his hands as if in surrender. 
“Easy, lass,” he continues, eyes darting between your face and the knife. “I’m a friend.”
“The fuck you are—“
“Look. Look.” He gestures back and forth between himself and the dogs, who stand in place between you two. “You’re missin’ a pup, aren’t ya? Foxhound that gets into everything? Soap? Thah’s me!”
‘Me?’ What the hell was this guy thinking? But sure enough—just as he said—Soap was missing from the group. It was just Price, Ghost, and Gaz—all tense like you. If not more so. Gaz offers a whine in negotiation, stepping forward to get you to back up a little further, away from the stranger. There’s a beg—no—an intelligent plea in the Labrador’s eyes that nearly makes you falter, unsure of reason or rhyme.
Unsure of yourself.
“That’s— that’s not possible,” you laugh nervously, reaching for the phone in your pocket. “Dogs don’t turn into people, or vice versa. Now get out of my house or I’m calling the poli—“
— “Wouldn’t do that if I was you.”
And now there’s a third fucking person. Standing in your kitchen. Right where Price used to be. And now the shock runs cold, adrenaline gone in place of confusion. And a quick skip through the stages of grief into acceptance.
“Well,” is all that gets out of your mouth. “Shit.”
The world spins, and everything goes black. You’re out like a light. All you see is ‘human-Price’ moving forward, then darkness, and the sensation of two arms catching you before you hit the floor.
The boys hang around until morning light after that, sitting in the living room in dead silence. At least until Gaz gives a final suggestion.
“… You think we can pass it off as a dream?”
_
Bonus Thoughts:
You do, in fact, wake up as if it were a dream. Because you’re back in bed per usual, and the house is in order, and the dogs are piled around you like nothing ever happened. You eye them all suspiciously, then slap yourself. Because what kind of weirdo imagines her pets as hot, tall, buff men? Pervert.
Meanwhile, the boys are just exchanging the quietest glances before you settle back in bed. Because for a good few seconds, they think they’ve been discovered.
Also Soap has suffered a collective *bap* from everyone because it’s what he deserves for threatening their free food supply.
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choslut · 20 hours
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˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ SWEET TALK. featuring choso.
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↻ choso lives for one thing ; to make sure his precious girlfriend is never unsatisfied.
tags : cunniligus, dirty talk, body worship, male masturbation, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, mentions of face sitting, feral choso // wc. 0.7k
author's note : i lowkey wanna thank @toadtoru for sending in an ask about this before i even posted it, because i used some of those ideas to improve on this :3 in true homage to my username choso is a complete slut in this lolsies ;) one more to go and this event is finished, thanks for sticking around for THIS long i love everyone here >o<
this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.
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if there’s one thing CHOSO firmly believes in, it’s that you aren’t just his girlfriend, but some supreme deity from heaven above. it sounds completely ridiculous, but he believes it more than anything, especially in moments like this. 
you just look so beautiful above him on the couch, thighs parted slightly and fingers caressing the sensitive mound in between your legs, head tipped back and lips parted in a silent ‘o’ as your toes curl into the carpet. angelic, he thinks, and he can’t wait to receive permission to touch you.
“choso…” your voice is smooth like butter yet sweet like caramel, and choso can feel his cock begin to press up against his slacks. “c’mere.”
yes. that’s all he needs before he’s eagerly crawling in between your legs to lap at your cunt, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he pulls them apart in earnest. “shit… missed me, did she?” his rambles are fueled by pure lust and delusion, and as he eats you out, choso begins to talk into your cunt. “missed her too… poor baby can’t go too long without her sweet boyfriend, huh…”
fingers tangle in his dark locks as you pull him closer, effectively muffling his ramblings by grinding your lower half on his tongue. the way he eats you out is feverish, his wet muscle alternating between your inflamed clit and pulsing hole interchangeably. and choso can’t help himself from getting fired up by your lewd display too, his own hips grinding down onto  the couch as he finds solace in between your legs. 
you, on the other hand, are positively reeling, legs twitching uncontrollably as choso continues to make a mess of your poor cunt. you wish you could return to him the same pleasure tenfold, but all you can do is sit and take it, helpless to his ministrations. “cho, cho, ‘s too much, baby, s-slow down…” 
begging is futile. choso is hypnotised, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head in an immediate reflection of your own reaction. “sorry baby, can’t, you taste s’good, don’t wanna…”
neither of you are in your right mind, but choso especially. when you cry out from orgasm for the first time, he barely takes note, his tongue on your clit never letting up as he brings two fingers to the entrance of your weeping cunt. the other hand previously on your thigh is now shoved into his boxers, and he’s fisting himself just as quickly as his fingers begin to plow your pussy. 
he’s killing you, but you love it. his brown eyes peek up in between your legs, and you just catch his expression, pupils dilated with lust as he watches you twitch above him. he mumbles something onto your clit before he’s licking and kissing it again, and you begin to think you might actually die. 
“c’mon, baby,” he groans, hips thrusting forward into his palm as he continues to eat. “c’mon baby, gimme another one– fuck, please, please…”
“choso, i can’t…” you truly believe that, given the way he’s already on his way to giving you another orgasm in the short span of five minutes. but he needs it so bad, needs you to cum for him so bad that he speeds up, thumb now joining his tongue to stimulate your clit in unison. “choso!”
“that’s it, baby, that’s it, oh, she’s close, isn’t she?” you can barely believe that he’s treating your pussy like its own person, but fuck is it turning you on. you hiccup pitiful whimpers as your thighs begin to tremble again, knees closing inwards and trapping choso’s head in between your legs.
if he were to die in this position, he wouldn’t mind. your release sprays his lips in repeated spurts, juices dribbling down his chin and some even dripping onto the flared head of his cock. it’s that which tips choso over the edge, and he’s spurting ropes onto the carpet, his own eyes finding the back of his head rapidly as his nose jerks against your clit.
“baby…” he stares down at the mess he’s made on the floor and then back at you, who’s laying spread eagle on the couch, chest rapidly rising and falling. “you gotta sit on my face next time.”
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judyvan · 2 days
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No Hands - Chris Sturniolo Fanfic
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。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
Summary: After picking on Chris for being an extremely touchy person, the two of you make a bet. Will Chris be able to control himself long enough to win?
Warnings: MDNI/ smut/ chrisxfem!reader/ bf!chris/ unprotected p n v (use a fucking rubber)/ oral (fem receiving)/ touchy! chris x needy! reader/ competitive! chris/ use of "you"/couldn't tell ya how many words
A/N: Time for a Chris fanfic! I am still new to writing, so bear with me. The song loosely relates to the fic. Interactions are appreciated! Pls don't steal my shit. Thx!💋
。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
"Keep your filthy fucking paws off of me," Nick says pushing his brother, Chris, away from him. Chris had wrapped his arm around Nick's shoulders as the two of them spoke.
Your boyfriend Chris is probably the most physically affectionate person that you know. He is always eager to touch those he cares about the most. Whenever it comes to you, Chris loses all self-control. He needs to be touching you in some way at all times; like he'll go insane without the feeling of your body against his in some way, shape, or form.
"You have got to be the touchiest motherfucker that I know, seriously," Nick continues, dusting the remanence of Chris' hands off of his shoulders.
"Shut up," Chris chuckles, pushing Nick backwards.
Nick looks up shocked. His eyes move back and forth from yours and Matt's, Nick and Chris' other brother. You and Matt begin to laugh uncontrollably.
"Please tell me you two fucking see this. I mean this is absurd! Even when I ask him not to touch me, he touches me. It's crazy!" Nick states completely dumbfounded.
Chris is laughing along with you and Matt. He begins to walk towards Matt, reaching out to grab his arm as he loses control of his body.
"Don't bring that shit over here," Matt says out of breath, wiping the tears from his eyes, failing to reel himself in.
Chris looks at you through squinted eyes. You simply open your arms as he walks towards you. He knew that you wouldn't turn down his touch. Chris stands in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head in the crook of your neck, laughing profusely into your skin.
"Can we please talk about this?!" Nick begins, still completely shocked. "I have never seen anything like this. Like he actually needs to be studied. He has always been "touchy feely", but ever since he got a girlfriend, it has multiplied by a gabillion." The room is still filled with the laughter of Chris and Matt, yours no longer producing noise.
"I mean seriously, I feel so bad for you. I can guarantee that you never get a fucking second to just breathe!" Nick exclaims.
You somehow manage to catch your breath and gain composure.
"It doesn't bother me. I've gotten used to it," you reply, rubbing your hand up and down Chris' back, attempting to calm him down.
Nick releases a scoff, letting you know that he doesn't believe you.
"Anyways, back to what I was saying," Nick begins shaking his head. He's looking at you, the only one stable enough to understand him. "Me and Matt are going to the store; do you want us to get you guys anything; besides some fucking giggle juice?"
"No, I think that's all we need," you reply, letting out a small laugh. Your whole body is now shaking at the intensity of Chris' reaction to Nick's last statement.
"Alright, we will be back in a few hours," Nick says, practically dragging Matt out of the door, him and Chris continuing to crack up.
The door shuts and Chris is eventually able to control himself. He pulls his head out of your neck and looks in your eyes, a huge grin spread across his face.
"Let's go to my room and find something to do until they get back," Chris says, his fingers running up and down your sides. You meet his lips with a short peck.
"I've got something in mind," you say smirking at him.
The two of you walk to Chris' room, holding hands of course. You have been trying to convince Chris to watch all of your favorite movies and now is the perfect time to start. Chris turns on the movie, "Five Feet Apart," and the two of you lay in his bed. As the film goes on, you can't help but think about what Nick was saying earlier. You are now very observant of how often Chris asks for a kiss or squeezes you tighter. When he gets up out of bed to grab a drink, you begin to laugh out loud at your own thoughts. Chris comes back into the room as you're laughing uncontrollably, trying to think of any moment he has spent any amount of time without physical contact.
"What the fuck is so funny?" Chris asks, taking a sip of his Pepsi as he stands in his doorway.
You swing your legs over the side of the bed to face your boyfriend.
"I was just thinking about what Nick was saying. I genuinely cannot think of a time that you went 5 minutes without touching me," you say.
Chris smirks and shakes his head. He begins to walk closer to you.
"Do you really think that I touch you a lot?" he asks, taking another drink.
"What do you mean think? You can't keep your hands off of me," you let out a small laugh.
"Yes, I can," Chris states in a cocky manner. "You touch me just as much as I touch you." He sits his drink down and gives you a smug look, stepping closer to you.
"Fine then. Let's make a deal. Until Nick and Matt get back, we have to keep our hands to ourselves. You can't touch me, and I won't touch you," you flick your brow up as you propose the idea to Chris.
"And why would I do that?" he says, laughing at your playfulness.
“To prove a point.”
Chris looks around the room for a second, thinking about what you said.
“How about we make this a little bit harder, since Nick and Matt aren't here,” he says, an arrogant look on his face. Chris bends down to whisper in your ear. “How about I do some things that make it harder for both of us to keep our hands off of each other.”
He then places an open-mouthed kiss to the spot right behind your ear. He tugs lightly on the bottom of your earlobe before pulling away. The combination of his warm breath, wet kiss, and teeth pulling on your skin, sends a feeling of arousal throughout your body. Chris looks at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly able to see what he's doing to you.
"And why would I that?" you say, mocking him. Chris' eyes trail up and down your body, not missing a single curve.
"If I win, I get to touch you anywhere I want, wherever I want, anytime I want for a week, and you don't get to say shit to me about it." Chris runs his tongue across his bottom lip as he finishes his sentence. Just the thought of having any part of you at his fingertips whenever he pleased made him grow hard.
"And if I win," you start, noticing the tent forming at the crotch of his pants, " I get to wear as little as I want, whenever I want, and you can look all you want, but you can't touch, for a week." You smile up at Chris, seeing him picture you in the smallest article of clothing in his head.
"I think you've got yourself a deal," Chris says, moving even closer to you.
You lift off of the bed slightly, sliding your hands underneath of your ass, pressing them into the bed. Chris places his hands on the bed, one on either side of your hips. Your lips connect almost immediately, the two of you aching to touch now that you can't. The kiss is deep and passionate, the both of you long for more. You remove your hands from underneath you, pulling off the shirt and pants you're wearing. Chris' lips leave yours and meet your collarbone without hesitation. His hungry kisses across your skin deepen your desire for him to touch you. Chris has seen you in a bra and underwear plenty of times. Removing your clothes doesn't seem to faze him much.
"This is too easy," you say, a smile spreading across your face. Your hands reach behind your back and unbuckle your bra. You drop it on the floor, scoot away from Chris, and lay down on the bed.
Chris stands up completely. His eyes roam over your entire body, lingering on your breasts. Lacking a good poker face, Chris' expression confirmed that you just made things 10 times harder for him, in multiple different ways. He tugs at his bottom lip as he soaks in the amount of skin you have exposed.
"That's not fair," he laughs, his eyes touching every part of your figure that his hands should be feeling.
Chris removes all of his clothes, only leaving his boxers. Your eyes trail over his body. Your eyes widen when you see the bulge in his underwear. A small chuckle escapes Chris' lips at your face. His eyes never leave yours as he removes his underwear seductively, his entire body now on display.
"Now we're even," he says. Chris moves across the room and climbs on top of you, careful to keep both of his hands on the bed.
The air chills your uncovered body. Chris' lips only momentarily heating the areas that they touch. It isn't enough. You need his hands on you. Messy kisses are placed all around your frame as he travels down you. After reaching the waist band of your underwear, Chris moves directly to your inner thighs, devouring them. Your hips begin to buck upwards, wanting his mouth on the place covered by soaked fabric.
"Take them off," Chris says placing a single gentle peck to the front of your underwear.
You shake your head while biting your lip. You earnestly wanted his hands on you and refused to help him out any longer.
"You do it," you said, your heart racing.
"I'm not losing this bet," he responds placing a gentle kiss to either side of your pelvic bone. Suddenly, his tongue slides under the left side wing of your underwear. He pinches the material between his teeth and slides one side of your underwear down to your thigh. He slowly moves to the right side of your body and performs the same motion. His intention is to draw this process out as long as he can, hoping you'll cave. Tongue, bite, pull, switch. Tongue, bite, pull, switch. As soon as one side reaches your ankle, you begin to shake them off yourself, flinging them into the floor.
"Someone's impatient," Chris smiles. He knows you won't last much longer.
His head dives between your legs, his tongue licking up the need that is dripping from you. You let out a whimper, gripping onto the bed sheets, miserably trying to keep your hands busy. Chris' tongue splits you in half as his nose applies pressure to your clit. He begins to speed up his motion, his tongue now forming small circles around your most sensitive area. Your legs begin to squeeze inward, Chris' head between them acting as a magnet. You can't help but squirm, the intense feeling of pleasure taking over your body. All of your movement is making it difficult for Chris. He is unable hold your legs down, forcing them to stay put.
"If you don't stop moving, I'm going to have to stop," he says, momentarily pulling his lips off of you.
Your moans get louder as Chris proceeds to eat you out. Your legs begin to shake as you attempt to keep from moving, not wanting him to quit. His tongue slips inside of your opening. Your back arches off of the bed. He begins to eat you as sloppily as he can, wanting more than just his tongue to be inside of you. Your toes start to curl. He begins to shake his head back and forth, his tongue flicking in all directions, only stopping to suck on your ball of nerves. You cling onto the sheets for dear life. You're starting to get close. Don't do it. Your hands lose their hold on the bedsheets and find themselves in Chris' hair as you practically levitate off of the bed.
"Oh fuck!" you scream, on the edge of release.
Chris pulls away from you. You did touch him after all. Suddenly his eyes meet yours from in between your legs. His thumb brushes over his lips, gathering all of your remnants before sucking them off of his skin.
"I win," he says with a cocky smirk.
In a swift motion, Chris grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder, plunging himself inside of you, burying his dick as deep in your walls as possible. As he thrusts in and out of you frantically, his hands touch every part of your body, making up for lost time. The two of you moan loudly at the feeling of him touching you inside and out. It doesn't take long before your stomach clenches and you reach your orgasm, Chris' warm cum coating your insides at the same time. As the two of you ride out your high, your hands continue to feel every part of each other. Chris slumps on top of you, wrapping his arms around you, and burying his face in your chest. Your arms embrace him, pulling him closer. After a few moments of relishing the feeling of you both on top of one another, Chris leaves your body to grab a towel and pull on his clothes. As he cleans you up, he makes sure to touch you in every way he can. He throws the towel on the floor and grabs your clothes, insisting on dressing you as well. He starts with your underwear and pants, wanting to see you topless as long as possible. Before putting your bra back on, he takes your breasts in both of his hands and squeezes, kissing you tenderly.
"You better get used to that," he says, pulling away from your mouth and sliding your bra on. "I've got a whole 7 days to do that whenever I want."
For the next week, Chris took as much advantage of his prize as possible. When meeting up with his family he would hug you as long and hard as he could. When around his brothers at home, he would palm your ass with both hands, squeezing roughly and kissing you with passion. Even when hanging out in public settings with your friend group, you would find at least one of his hands wandering from your thigh and meeting the sweet spot in between your legs.
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jasontoddproblems · 8 hours
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Pinstripes (1)
[Jason Todd x Reader]
Word Count: 2906
Summary: You take the leap and decide to introduce Jason to your new boyfriend.
A/N: No one has ever been more normal than Jason Todd. He's fine. He's totally fine. Stop looking at him.
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Your apartment was still a chaotic whirlwind when Jason arrived, several dresses draped over the back of the couch, your usual purse contents emptied out on the coffee table next to an assortment of tiny, fashionable clutches. You barely took the time to open the door before fleeing back to your bedroom, your chosen dress for the evening technically on but still unzipped. 
“Hello to you too,” Jason called, trailing after you with much slower steps. 
“Hi, hello, how are ya?” you mumbled, shoving various makeup products back into a small floral bag. 
“I’m fine. You don’t seem to be, though. Wanna talk about it?” He dropped down on the edge of your bed, unbuttoning his suit jacket in the process. 
That seemed to catch your attention, and you spun quickly to face him.
“Yes. Tonight’s a big deal. You know that, right?”
Jason raised a brow.
“It’s just another Wayne Foundation gala. You’ve been to dozens of them. You’ve planned dozens of them. It’s your job, and you’re damn good at it.”
Despite the kind words, your lips fell into a frown.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
He did know it, unfortunately. Because what you actually meant is that you were introducing your fancy new boyfriend to Jason tonight. Your New York new money, Gotham transplant, up and comer in the Gotham DA’s office with irritatingly private social media accounts boyfriend. 
“What are you so worried about? Help me understand,” he said patiently, trying to ignore the twist in his stomach that felt suspiciously like dread. It had no right to be dread. Jason wasn’t scared of shit. Certainly not a 30-year-old man with an overly-gelled comb over. 
“I haven’t ever introduced anyone to you before,” you said, nibbling on your bottom lip. “I feel… weird about it.” 
“This was your idea. If you’ve changed your mind, I’ll just drop you off and go home. You can tell him I’m sick or something.” 
Because honestly, Jason wasn’t looking forward to this either. You were right. You’d never introduced anyone to him in the almost ten years you’d been friends. You’d dated here and there, but never anything serious enough that you bothered with… all this. And Jason didn’t love the fact that you were bothering with it now.
“No, no. I need to stop putting it off. It’s important,” you said, sitting beside him. “I’m just… nervous.”
“I can see that,” he whispered, gesturing around at the disaster zone that was your room and earning an elbow to the ribs in the process.
“Just be nice,” you pleaded, moving to stand in front of him, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. 
“I will.”
“Jason.”
“I will!” he repeated with a laugh.
You still didn’t look convinced, eyes slightly narrowed and a cute little pout on your lips. 
“I’m serious. Please. I know how you can get.”
“Okay, what does that mean?” 
“You can be a little… quick to judge.” You hurried to continue when you recognized the flash of hurt in his eyes. “Not me! And not even most people. But like… when you see someone doing something you don’t approve of, you kind of…. Have a hard time letting that go sometimes.” 
“Because you let it go too quickly,” Jason said, brief memories of your past relationships passing through his head like a very convincing powerpoint. “I balance you out.” 
There was the one who stood you up and didn’t call you until the next day to apologize, rattling off excuses that all could have been easily communicated while they were happening. Jason had refused to call him anything other than Ghost Boy for the remainder of your relationship.
Then there was the one who documented his every movement on social media to an alarming degree, always taking pictures when the two of you were together and posting them with cringey, coy captions that had made Jason roll his eyes so hard they hurt a little bit afterwards. He’d named him The Tourist.
And there was no forgetting Small Dick Energy 1, 2, 3, and 4 who had all had huge issues with your best friend being a man in general, and Jason Todd of the Wayne family specifically. You hadn’t seemed aware of the actual problem, just the symptoms: showing off, being obnoxiously vocal about your relationship when you preferred privacy, a dozen different instances of insecurity, becoming possessive and clingy especially when you wanted to make plans with your best friend. It had been very clear to Jason that he was the problem. And he found he didn’t particularly mind it. You deserved better anyway.
“Meet me in the middle,” you requested, squeezing his shoulders to regain his attention. “And I’ll try to meet you in the middle too.” 
“I can try…” Jason said slowly, smiling despite himself when you patted his cheek in approval.
“That’s all I ask. Zip?” 
You turned, standing perfectly still while Jason zipped up your dress, taking the extra time to fasten the tiny hook and eye clasp at the top for good measure. 
“All set.” 
“You’re the best,” you said easily as you moved back toward your vanity, sorting through your various tubes of lipstick.
“I know. It’s a curse.” 
You snorted but didn’t argue, turning once again to present him with four different shades of lipstick. 
“Which one?”
“What color are your shoes?”
“Black.” 
Jason tapped the deep burgundy.
“Ooo. Going bold tonight,” you commented, tossing the others back in your makeup bag.
“You don’t have to,” Jason said with a shrug, but you were already leaning into the mirror, carefully smoothing the rich color over your lips.
“No, I like it.” 
Things moved more quickly after that. You made Jason pick out your purse while you put on your shoes, and he chased you to the front door with a bottle of perfume Bruce had bought you last Christmas.
The ride was quiet. Jason had opted for the Wayne’s favorite car service tonight, since you were attending a public event. It always made you a little uncomfortable, carrying on a conversation as if there wasn’t a third person in the car. You texted each other instead. 
Jason didn’t protest when you directed the driver to the service entrance of tonight’s ritzy hotel venue. Even though you were technically a guest tonight, you’d earned enough favor with the staff of every fine event venue in the city to get special treatment. Including a way in that avoided the paparazzi stationed out front. 
“Can’t believe you sprayed me with that stuff,” you groaned as you led Jason down a service hallway, plucking at your dress with dissatisfaction. It was nicer than what you usually wore when working these events, but not by much. Still unadventurous in color and cut, designed to help you blend in. 
Jason caught your hand, gave it a comforting squeeze before releasing it.
“Do you not like it?” he asked, eyes wide with artificial innocence that made you scoff. 
“I smell like an old rich lady,” you complained. 
“Gonna break Bruce’s heart, talking like that. I’m pretty sure he actually picked that out himself.”
“Well we’re not going to tell him, are we?” 
He caught your hand again, intercepting it before you could fuss with your hair. 
“Will you stop? You look amazing. There’s nothing to worry about.”
You sighed, pausing before the door that would let you into the hotel ballroom and brushing your hands over your dress again.
“Easy for you to say.” 
Jason frowned.
“Hey,” he said softly, guiding your chin up until you were meeting his gaze. “Tell me how to make this easier for you.”
That alone seemed to do something, tension beginning to ease from your shoulders.
“I don’t know,” you sighed. “Just…”
“Be nice. I know.” He offered you his arm with an encouraging smile. 
“I mean it.” 
“I’ll be so nice he’ll fall in love with me, and you’ll regret ever introducing us.”
“Well, I believe the second part of that statement,” you laughed as he led you through the door and into the ballroom. By the look of things, about half of the invitees had arrived, small groups of business magnates, socialites, and philanthropists forming along the edges of the room to network and gossip and generally be seen together. 
“Rude,” Jason said drily, smiling when you pinched his bicep in retaliation. “Alright, where is this guy?”
“Umm…” You stretched up to your tallest, peering around at the near-identical suits around the room. “Right over there!”
He followed the direction of your gaze to 
“Is he wearing pinstripes?” 
“Jason.”
“I’m not being mean! I’m asking a question.” 
“Fine. Yes, he’s wearing pinstripes,” you said, flashing a bright smile as the man in question met your eyes and started making his way towards you.
“To a charity gala?” 
“I told you he was coming straight from work.”
“You did. Except the lines of that suit are too sharp for him to have been wearing it all day. Which means he changed into a pinstripe suit. For a charity gala.”
“Stop using your weird observation powers to be a bitch.” 
“You love when I - ”
“Well not right now I don’t. Cut it out.”
“Does he think he’s on Wall Street? Or a Law and Order rerun?”
“Jason.” A fierce whisper, accompanied by a sharp elbow to the ribs announced the arrival of your boyfriend, and Jason let out a sigh of defeat. 
“There you are!” 
The voice was, irritatingly, pleasant. A voice fit for radio. Or campaign videos. 
His greeting was smooth, polite, moving you from Jason’s arm to his own with subtlety and a kiss to your cheek. 
“You smell nice. New perfume?”
Jason bit down hard on his lip to contain a laugh, flashing innocent eyes at you as you glared at him over your boyfriend’s shoulder.
“Did you send my staff into a panic by turning up early?” you asked.
“Early is on time,” he replied, with the intonation of a phrase often repeated. “On time is late.” 
“I don’t think that rule applies to parties,” you laughed. 
“Definitely doesn’t apply to Wayne parties, anyway,” Jason added, snagging a champagne flute from a passing waiter and handing it to you. 
“Oh, thank you! I suppose now’s the time for introductions...”
“You must be Jason,” the other man said, holding out his hand. “Sorry, is it Todd or Wayne? I’ve seen it both ways in the paper.”
“Todd,” he said firmly, reaching to accept the offered handshake with a bit more strength than was strictly necessary. “Unless I need a last minute dinner reservation. Or I want to meet a famous person.” 
He knew how to play this game. Kind of. He’d seen Bruce and Dick play it often enough, anyway.
“Good for you,” the other man said with a polite laugh. “Making use of your connections. I’m William Woodley.”
“Middle name?”
William tilted his head curiously, but appeared unfazed.
“Samuel.”
Jason clicked his tongue in disappointment.
“Was hoping for another W.”
Take that, asshole. 
William gave another news anchor-esque laugh.
You looked faintly confused. 
“Well, I’ve heard a lot about you. Good to finally meet you in person.”
“You’ve got the advantage then. I only started hearing about you last week.”
Your sharp gaze bit into the side of his face, and he was sure if there was a subtle way to do it, you would have stomped on his foot for good measure. And he deserved it. That was too clumsy of an insult to land properly. 
“I can’t blame her,” William said, turning his full attention on you until your eyes softened again. “I’ve wanted to keep her all to myself too.”
Gag. Damn, he was good at this. 
“So, how did you two meet?” Jason asked, though you’d already told him the story. Twice.
“We - Oh, pardon me. Is that the mayor? Darling, we should go introduce ourselves,” William turned to you, eyes bright with excitement. 
“I’ve met him,” you said patiently. “Several times. And last week, I’m pretty sure his wife called me the help, so I think you stand a better chance at a good impression if you go without me.”
His eyes scanned over you quickly, assessing, smile beginning to slip.
“Oh. I don’t… I don’t have to go. We could find a different group to join.”
“It’s alright! Go ahead.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’ll be fine! I still have Jason.”
It was Jason’s turn to be assessed, though more cautiously. 
William gave a noncommittal hum, dropping another kiss to your cheek and whispering something Jason couldn’t hear before heading off towards the growing crowd of sycophants surrounding Gotham’s mayor. 
“Well, that was quick.” 
“Why are you being weird?” you asked, an overly-polite smile on your face as you watched William make his way across the ballroom. 
“I’m not being weird.” 
You gave him a flat look. 
“I’ve never met one of your boyfriends before! I don’t know how I’m supposed to act.”
“Like a human person, preferably,” you muttered, taking a long sip of champagne. “Like yourself, would be nice.” 
Jason’s sigh was drowned out by an enthusiastic voice calling out your name. 
“Seriously?” he complained quietly. 
Dick Grayson bounced up on sunshine and smiles (and expensive booze), snatching up your hand and guiding you into a graceful twirl before you could even say hello.
“Good to see you! You look lovely.” He dropped a gallant kiss to the back of your hand. “What did it cost you to get Jason in the building tonight?”
“I asked nicely,” you said, with a fond smile. “It’s good to see you too.”
“Funny, I always ask nicely for things - ”
“You do not,” Jason cut off, rolling his eyes. 
“Never works for me!”
“Well, she’s prettier than you.”
“Rude,” Dick said before turning to wink at you. “But fair. Was that William Woodley from the DA’s office you were just talking to?”
You blinked in surprise. 
“Uh, yes. He - ”
“He’s her boyfriend.”
Something in Dick’s brain seemed to glitch, and his eyelid twitched.
“Interesting! When did that happen?”
“What do you mean interesting?” you asked suspiciously. 
Dick hummed, rolling back his exuberant public persona as he searched for the right answer.
“Is he not a little… serious? For you?” 
“Have you met my best friend?” 
“Jason’s Jason. It’s different,” he said, waving you off.
“What does that mean?” Jason asked, feeling like he should probably be offended. This night was already giving him a headache.
“William’s sweet,” you defended. “And it’s kind of nice to be with someone more serious. He knows what he wants.” 
“Sure…” Dick slipped the champagne flute out of your hand, handing it to Jason. “Think you need that more than she does. You look like you tried to eat a snail. Again. I’m gonna go charm more rich people out of their money. Have fun!”
He turned away after a hard clap on the shoulder, taking only a second to identify his next target before he was off again, shouting out someone else’s name with his arms wide open.
Jason drained the rest of your glass, trading it for a fresh one which he handed to you. 
You took it without looking, your eyes once again fixed on William through the crowd and your perfectly-painted lips tugged into a slight frown. 
That was Jason’s fault, at least partially. And he knew it. 
He took a deep breath.
“You should go ask him to dance,” Jason said, plastering on his most convincing  smile when you glanced at him curiously.
“Why?”
“Because you’re a guest, they just started playing a new song, and you’re supposed to be having fun.” 
You tapped the edge of your champagne flute absently.
“Yeah… but he doesn’t get a lot of opportunities like this. And he doesn’t really like to dance, I don’t think.” 
Jason took your glass back, giving you a little nudge.
“He will if he knows it will make you happy.”
“You’re being sweet,” you said, tone nearly accusatory as you look over your shoulder at him.
“How dare you. Would you get outta here?” 
Your eyes narrowed a little, but you smiled anyway.
And Jason watched you make your way through the assorted guests, watched you come up beside William, your hand gentle on his shoulder. Watched the way his eyes lit up, the bright beaming smile he aimed at you. Tried, really really hard, to think you two looked like a good match. Tried to be happy for you. 
But your own soft smile faded after a few exchanged words, turned into something plastic and polite that clashed with the disappointment he could see in your eyes even from across the room. 
Something tightened in Jason’s chest, and he let out a slow breath. He didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know how to fix this, how to make you happy. Not anymore.
What he wanted to do was shove everyone out of the way until he could stand right next to you. He wanted to steal you away into an alcove, make rude jokes about the elitist guests until you laughed, until champagne threatened to come out of your nose. He wanted to dance with you. Because he knew it would make you happy. Because your boyfriend wasn’t. 
Because Jason Todd had been your best friend for ten years. And he’d been in love with you for eight. 
*****
A/N: Help, I'm gonna LOSE IT! What do we think, besties? Is this anything? Come chat!
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annievrse · 16 hours
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that's not my name!
college!eren jaeger x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb c/w: eren refers to reader as 'my girl', she/her pronouns, established relationship, reader is shorter than eren.
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"call me that one more time and see what happens."
you roll your lips between your teeth, a smile threatening to break across your face. "eren, eren, eren."
"baby!" he pouts. "you always call me baby. stop that."
you giggle into your hand, eren’s fallen expression causing you to burst. his eyes shift under his dark eyebrows, mischief swimming in his green irises.
then, eren abandons his protein drink and reaches over the table, placing his hands on your shoulders. "don't make me shake you."
"baby," you whisper, peering up at him. at the sound of his name, he visibly melts. his shoulders relax, and his expression morphs into relief.
"thank you," eren nods, rubbing your skin. "now, was that so hard?"
"i dont know, eren, you tell me."
"ugh," he rolls his eyes, sitting back down and taking a swig of his drink.
"can i try some?"
"no, because i know you're not gonna like it," eren deadpans. "then you're going to ask me how the hell i like it, and i don't want to listen to that right now."
"you're so mean."
"says the one purposefully messing up my name before."
"are we gonna stop them soon?" armin whispers to mikasa, the pair governing the other half of the picnic bench—you next to mikasa & armin beside eren.
the girl rolls her eyes and sighs. “we have to meet up with the others soon. are you done?"
you face her with a wince and give your best friend a sheepish smile. "sorry."
"she's lying," eren quips, winking at you across the table. he finishes his drink and shoves the cup into the side of his backpack.
"am not!" you say, throwing him a glare. you don't miss the anxious expression on armin's face. "and look! you're even stressing armin out."
armin's cheeks glow red at your comment. "i just don't want to be late."
eren grins and raises an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest. a few loose strands from his bun fall in his eyes as he tilts his head. "you two can go on. we'll catch up with you later."
mikasa rolls her eyes and stands, swinging her bag onto her shoulder. she yanks armin up by his shirt collar. "don't be too late."
"when are we ever?" eren smirks, eyes never straying from yours.
armin scoffs, pushing his glasses up his noise. "do you really want us to answer that?"
"damn," eren pouts. "fine, we'll come with you right now then." he stands from his spot and rounds the table before you can do the same. eren plucks your bag from your side and heaves it onto his shoulder, slipping his arm through his own backpack seconds later.
you giggle as he urges you to hurry up, running ahead of mikasa and armin. "we're never late!"
mikasa nudges your shoulder when you fall into step beside her. "better get going. you don't want to be late."
you roll your eyes and quicken your steps to catch up to your boyfriend, who almost tackles you when he notices you approaching. "my girl."
"my baby," you laugh and shove your face into his shoulder. his strides are much longer than yours, so you half jog to keep up with him. giggles fall from eren's lips as he kisses your head.
"you're going the wrong way!"
"shit," eren mumbles, steering you across the grass to the path where your best friends walk.
with your hand in the crook of his elbow, you walk behind them, whispering about nothing and everything and sharing kisses between laughs.
74 notes · View notes
hoshifighting · 3 days
Note
Hey pookie so I just wanted to ask seeing that you didn't see any of my asks in your inbox could you write me a ff where you're in seventeen and you used to have a friends with benefits situation with wonwoo but now that's over and you're with josh but he knows that so now he wants to have a threesome with you and won I you are comfortable and have the time😊💗
threesome with; actual situationship!joshua & past situationship!wonwoo WC: 3.3k WARNINGS: smut, threesome, reader misses wonwoo, mentions of ovulation/sensitiveness, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), body fluids (cum) penetrative sex, a teeth scratch during blowjob—no pain, joshua and wonwoo making eye contact as they fuck you—idk, but felt like a warning.
you’re not entirely sure how it started. maybe it’s the way joshua’s always had this easy charm, like he knows exactly how to say shit that gets under your skin. but it’s not the kind of annoyance that makes you want to push him away, it’s the kind that makes you want to shut him up by doing things that leave the both of you breathless.
and wonwoo… well, wonwoo’s always been a different story. it’s not like he’s cold, exactly. just detached, distant. except when he’s not. except when his hands were on your hips, and his mouth was on your neck, and when he pulled you so close that it’s like he wanted to remind you how much he can feel.
it wasn’t supposed to last as long as it did, but it did. until it didn’t.
now, though? now you’ve got joshua, and that’s its own thing. he’s smoother than wonwoo ever was, always knows how to keep things light and playful even when his touch is hot and heavy. you’re not sure what to call what you have with him—it’s not exactly a relationship, but it’s not casual either. and he knows about wonwoo. of course he does. you never accomplished about lying to joshus, he knows everything about you, and you simply cant lie looking inside his eyes.
“so,” joshua says, leaning back against the couch, his eyes fixed on you with that lazy smirk you’ve come to expect. “what if we changed things up?”
you raise a brow, not quite following. “changed things up how?”
his gaze flicks over you, dark in his eyes now, something you’ve only seen in flashes before, right when he’s about to get serious. “i know about you and wonwoo. i know it’s over, but…” he lets the words hang there, knowing exactly how to build suspense. “what if it didn’t have to be over?”
you feel your stomach flip, your mind racing to catch up with the suggestion that’s hanging in the air like a loaded gun. “what the fuck are you talking about?”
he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even look like he’s joking. “i’m talking about the three of us.”
you let out a laugh, more out of shock than anything. “a fucking threesome? with wonwoo?” it’s so ridiculous, but there’s something twisted in your chest that says it’s not entirely a bad idea.
joshua just shrugs like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “you said he was good, right? no reason to keep that all to yourself. besides… i’m curious.”
“curious?” you echo, still not believing what you’re hearing. “about what exactly?”
his smile turns wicked, and he leans forward, his lips brushing your ear. “about what it’d be like to see you with him. to see how you’d react if it was both of us. together.”
the idea rolls through your mind like wildfire, igniting thoughts you didn’t even know were buried there. you picture it—wonwoo’s quiet dom that you remembered, joshua’s charming and sensual—and suddenly, the room feels too hot, your heart beating too fast.
you lean back, eyes narrowed. “and what makes you think wonwoo’s even into that?”
joshua grins, knowing exactly what he’s doing. “oh, he’s into it. trust me.”
you don’t need to ask how he knows, and that’s what gets to you. this whole situation, as absurd as it sounds, feels almost inevitable. the tension between you and joshua’s always been good enough, but throw wonwoo into the mix, and it’s like adding gasoline to a slow-burning fire.
“you really think this is a good idea?” you ask, not sure if you’re talking to joshua or yourself at this point.
“i think it’s an idea,” he says, shrugging again, that confidence never leaving his face. “whether or not it’s a good one is up to you.”
you bite your lip, torn between the pull of curiosity and the weight of everything that’s gone down with wonwoo. it wasn’t messy when it ended, but it wasn’t exactly clean either. things like that don’t just disappear. they linger.
“fuck, you’re serious about this.” it’s not a question, more like a realization. joshua’s leaning in, his hands tracing light patterns over your skin, and you feel yourself giving in to the inevitable, even though part of you is still screaming that this is insane.
“completely,” he says, his lips grazing your jaw. “so, what do you say? wanna see how far we can push this?”
there’s a moment, where you think about what this could mean. it’s not just about sex, not with joshua and wonwoo involved. the way joshua’s eyes burn into yours as if he’s daring you to cross a line you can never uncross.
but then, you think about the way wonwoo used to look at you, that hunger in his sharp eyes, and the way joshua’s always been able to coax you into doing things you never thought you’d be into. and, well… maybe crossing that line isn’t the worst idea after all.
“alright,” the weight behind it feels like a door being kicked wide open. “let’s do it.”
joshua’s grin stretches wider, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “that’s what i thought you’d say.”
you can feel wonwoo's presence, even though wonwoo’s not here yet. but you know—you know—that when he is, things are going to change in a way none of you can ever take back.
and the fucked up part is? you’re not sure you’d want to.
[...]
“a threesome?!”
wonwoo’s voice cuts through the room. he’s standing at the foot of joshua’s bed, his eyes wide in disbelief—those same eyes that are always narrow, focused, but right now they’re blown open like he just heard the most ridiculous thing in his life.
honestly, you can’t blame him.
you sit there, smaller than you’ve ever felt, wrapped in the sheets like they might shield you from the exhasperation of his reaction. you’d expected some kind of pushback from wonwoo—he’s not exactly the most spontaneous guy—but the shock in his voice still stings more than you’d thought it would. joshua’s quiet beside you, arms folded across his chest, watching wonwoo with this unreadable look, lips pressed into a thin line. like he’s assessing the situation. like he’s waiting to see how this plays out.
“i—” you start, but your throat feels dry, your words dying before they’ve even formed. you shift, uncomfortable, but it’s not just the awkwardness of the moment. there’s something more, something deeper that’s making your skin feel hot, your body overly sensitive to every movement. you know what it is. you can feel it. your body’s buzzing, the ache between your thighs making itself known with every subtle shift of the sheets. you’re ovulating, and it’s making this whole thing worse, making your body respond in ways that are frustratingly out of your control.
wonwoo’s still staring, he looks at you, then at joshua, then back at you again. you don’t meet his eyes, can’t bring yourself to.
“are you serious?” his voice is lower now, more measured, but there’s still a note of incredulity in it.
you swallow hard, forcing yourself to look up at him. “yeah,” you say, voice quiet, but it’s the truth. “we’re serious.”
wonwoo looks like he’s processing it, his mind running a mile a minute, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression that tells you he’s considering it. and that’s enough for joshua, who leans forward slightly, his voice smooth, persuasive.
“it’s not as weird as it sounds,” joshua says, his tone light, like he’s just suggesting something casual, like going out for drinks. “you’re both already close. you trust each other, I know you for years. we’ve all got chemistry, right?”
wonwoo’s eyes narrow slightly at joshua, but the tension between them isn’t exactly hostile. it’s more like a challenge, like he’s weighing the pros and cons, trying to figure out if this is something he can actually wrap his head around.
finally, wonwoo sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, and when he speaks again, there’s a resigned sort of acceptance in his voice. “fuck it. okay.”
your heart jumps at the words. wonwoo’s gaze locks on yours, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there’s no distance between you. no walls.
joshua doesn’t say anything, but you feel his presence, the way his eyes are on you, observing every little reaction. there’s something almost possessive in the way he watches, like he’s waiting for you to make the first move.
you don’t wait long.
before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re reaching for wonwoo, pulling him down by the front of his shirt until his lips crash into yours. it’s messy, a little frantic, and you missed him. so, so much. like you missed him more than you were willing to admit. you can’t help the small sound that escapes your throat, the way your body responds immediately, almost embarrassingly fast.
wonwoo’s hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, torching the fire that’s already been burning low in your belly.
joshua’s still silent beside you, but you feel his eyes on you, feel the way his presence lingers, close but not touching. when you finally pull away from wonwoo, breathless and dazed, you glance at joshua. his lips are pressed together in a tight line, his expression carefully neutral, but there’s a tension in his jaw that tells you he’s not unaffected by what he just saw.
“fuck,” wonwoo mutters, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “you’re… fuck, you’re wet already.”
you let out a shaky breath, your body pulsing with a need that’s only getting worse. “yeah,” you admit, not even embarrassed by it. “it’s… it’s the timing.”
wonwoo raises a brow, confused for a second, before realization dawns on his face. “oh.”
wonwoo knew about “the timing” he used to be your relief for it, and he remembered how sensitive you were.
joshua finally speaks up “she’s sensitive right now. been like this all day.”
you want it. you need it.
wonwoo’s eyes darken, his fingers tightening on your waist. “is that right?”
joshua’s watching closely, his hand brushing over your thigh, and the contact is enough to make your breath hitch, your body already responding before you can even think about it. “she’s all yours for now,” joshua murmurs. “but don’t get too comfortable.”
wonwoo’s lips are on yours again, his hands exploring your body with a familiarity that makes the nostalgia wash over you like grandma's food, and you can’t help but respond, your body arching into him.
every touch, every kiss feels magnified, like your senses are on overdrive, and it’s all you can do to keep yourself from losing control entirely. you’re wet, so wet it’s embarrassing, and you know they can both feel it, know exactly how badly you want this, how badly you need it.
“fuck, you’re so sensitive,” wonwoo breathes against your skin, his fingers teasing along the waistband of your underwear, and you whimper at the contact, your hips bucking involuntarily. “can’t believe how wet you are.”
joshua leans in, his lips brushing wonwoo's ear as he whispers, “told you she’s been like this all day. it’s driving her crazy.”
you let out a shaky breath, wonwoo’s fingers dip lower, brushing against your soaked core, and you moan, your head falling back against joshua’s shoulder. it’s too much, but at the same time, it’s exactly what you’ve been craving, what your body’s been screaming for all day.
joshua’s hand slips under your shirt, his fingers brushing over your tits, twisting the hardened nipples, he’s letting wonwoo have you, letting you drown in it, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before he takes over.
wonwoo’s fingers slide inside you, slow at first, and the instant he curls them, you feel your body react, hips stuttering forward like you’re trying to chase the sensation, but can’t quite control it. it’s like your entire body remembers him, remembers the way he used to touch you, how he knows exactly what makes you fall apart.
you gasp, your forehead pressing against his chest, his free hand coming up to hold the back of your neck, keeping you close. “fuck,” you whisper, your breath ragged, your skin burning, fever. “wonwoo…”
he doesn’t respond with words, just lets out a low hum, his fingers working inside you with an infuriating pace, slow but so damn effective. you clench around him, feeling the wetness start to drip onto the sheets beneath you, and your mind’s a blur.
then, they share a look—wonwoo and joshua, their eyes meeting over your trembling form like they’re communicating something quietly between them. it makes your stomach tighten. wonwoo’s chest rumbles with a deep chuckle as you crumble against him, barely able to hold yourself up.
“fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” wonwoo mutters, his fingers start moving faster, curling with every thrust, hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes your knees buckle. “didn’t think you’d be this sensitive.”
“wonwoo—” you choke out, your head falling back, and your hand reaches out blindly for joshua. he’s pulling away, but you need him, need both of them. “joshua—”
you hear him groan softly, and when you turn your head, you see him standing there, his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it slowly, watching you like he’s savoring the sight of you falling apart on wonwoo’s fingers. “fuck, you look so good like that,” he says, his voice thick with lust. “so fucking needy.”
you bite your lip, moaning as wonwoo’s fingers slide deeper, the wet, obscene sounds filling the room as your body betrays you. your thighs tremble, your hands clawing at the sheets, the sensation of being split between them making your head spin. “joshua,” you moan again, voice breaking. “please… come back.”
he doesn’t need much more convincing. you watch as he steps forward, his cock hard and slick in his fist. “you want me that bad, huh?” he murmurs, the teasing lilt in his voice cutting through the haze clouding your mind. “can’t handle just wonwoo?”
wonwoo chuckles softly, his fingers still working inside you. “she’s falling apart already,” he mutters, his breath hot against your neck. “not sure she can handle both of us.”
“she can,” joshua says confidently, his thumb swiping over the tip of his cock as he steps closer, looming over you. “she just needs a little encouragement.”
you’re already panting, your body on edge, teetering dangerously close to losing control completely. you can feel the wetness coating his hand now, dripping onto the sheets, and it only makes the whole thing worse. every little movement makes you more sensitive, your body almost too responsive, and the frustration builds in your chest.
joshua kneels down on the bed, his cock brushing your lips, and you open your mouth automatically, desperate to have him inside you. but the second you try to take him in, wonwoo’s fingers curl again, and you gasp, your body jerking uncontrollably.
“shit—” you whimper, struggling to breathe, “i can’t—”
joshua presses the tip of his cock against your lips, his eyes burning into yours. “oh, you’re just gonna have to try a little harder, baby.”
you moan against him, your hips rolling instinctively into wonwoo’s hand, your body caught in this maddening push and pull between the two of them. joshua slides his cock past your lips, and the feeling of him, heavy and warm on your tongue, only intensifies the sensation of wonwoo’s fingers inside you. you choke a little, struggling to focus on either one of them, but it’s impossible.
wonwoo’s pace picks up, his fingers thrusting deeper, and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pulls them out, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. you whine at the loss, your head spinning, but before you can even process it, he’s shifting lower, pressing your thighs apart with a firm grip.
“wonwoo—” you gasp, your words muffled around joshua’s cock.
“shh,” wonwoo murmurs, his breath hot against your inner thigh. “just relax.”
and then his mouth is on you, his tongue licking a broad, slow stripe up your center, and your entire body seizes up, a broken moan ripping from your throat. your hips buck against his mouth, but he holds you down, his grip tight on your thighs as he starts devouring you like he’s been waiting for this moment forever.
“fuck,” joshua mutters, his hand tightening in your hair as you struggle to take him, the combination of wonwoo’s tongue on your clit and joshua in your mouth pushing you past the point of reason. “you’re so fucking wet. wonwoo’s making a mess out of you.”
you can’t respond, can barely even think, your mind a swirling mess. wonwoo’s tongue is relentless, teasing and sucking at your clit, his fingers slipping back inside you as he eats you out like it’s his only mission in life. you can feel your legs shaking, your entire body trembling as you try to keep up, but it’s impossible. every touch, every thrust of his fingers makes you more sensitive, makes it harder to breathe.
“fuck, i can’t—” you gasp, pulling off joshua’s cock for a second, your voice a desperate, breathless whine.
joshua just chuckles darkly, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. “you’re doing so good, baby. just a little more.”
wonwoo hums in agreement, the vibration against your clit making your entire body jolt, and you feel yourself spiraling, the tension building faster than you can handle. his tongue flicks over you again, and this time, he focuses on that one spot—the needy, throbbing clit—sucking just hard enough to send you over the edge.
you cry out, your back arching off the bed, your entire body shuddering as the orgasm rips through you, and you can’t do anything but ride it out, trembling and gasping for breath as wonwoo keeps going, his mouth never letting up.
“fuck, look at you,” joshua mutters, his voice full of awe as he watches you fall apart. “so fucking beautiful when you come. i love it.”
wonwoo finally pulls back, his lips shiny and slick with your cum, his eyes dark and hungry as he looks up at you. “she’s not done yet,”
and you know he’s right.
“fuck, look at you,” wonwoo mutters, pulling back from between your legs, his lips still glistening with you. “i’ve got you ready for him, haven’t i?” the heat in your cheeks burning deeper as you realize what he means.
you don’t have time to respond before joshua's hands are on your hips, pulling you up to your knees. the shift makes you gasp, you glance back at him.
“yeah, you’ve got her real nice and wet for me,” joshua says, the blunt head of his cock teasing at your entrance. “good job, wonwoo.”
you feel a kick of embarrassment making your legs shake. wonwoo’s hand comes up to brush against your cheek, turning your face toward him as he looks down at you with that familiar gaze. “c’mere,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing over your lips. “i missed your pretty mouth.”
your lips part automatically, like you’re drawn to him, and before you know it, you’ve wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, guiding him toward your lips. he groans softly as you take him in, his hand resting on your jaw, fingers curling slightly as you suck him in deeper.
“god, i missed this,” he breathes out, his voice catching as you swirl your tongue around him, taking him deeper into your throat. “missed how fucking good you are at this.”
your cheeks flush at the praise, your body humming as joshua teases you from behind, the tip of his cock just narrowly entering you. wonwoo’s hand tightens on your jaw, guiding your movements as you bob your head up and down, your lips stretched around him. the weight of him on your tongue, the taste of him—everything is overwhelming in the best way.
but just as you start to take him in throat, joshua suddenly thrusts into you from behind, hard. the sharp intrusion makes you gasp around wonwoo’s cock, your teeth scraping lightly against him as the sudden cock fills you all at once.
“shit—!” wonwoo curses, his hips jerking as your teeth graze him, not enough to hurt, but enough to make him jolt. his eyes widen in shock, but then a shaky laugh escapes his lips, his free hand tightening in your hair as he steadies you. “motherfucker.”
joshua lets out a loud laugh behind you, clearly amused by wonwoo’s reaction. “sorry about that,” he says, but there’s no real apology in his tone, only satisfaction as he starts moving inside you again, his hips snapping forward with sharp, controlled thrusts that have you whimpering around wonwoo’s cock.
“you’re such a fucking asshole hyung,” wonwoo mutters, but the words are strained, his voice catching as he watches your lips stretch around him. his hand rests on the back of your neck now, guiding your head in time with his shallow thrusts as he slowly fucks your mouth. “fuck, just like that. good girl.”
joshua’s pace is relentless, his hips slamming into you from behind, both filling you—wonwoo in your mouth, joshua inside you.
“god, you’re so fucking tight,” joshua groans, his hands gripping your hips harder as he pushes deeper, the wet, obscene sounds of him fucking you filling the room. “woo, you’ve got her all loosened up, but she’s still so fucking tight around me.”
wonwoo chuckles, but it’s strained, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watches you struggle to take both of them. “yeah?” he mutters, his voice rough. “she’s so fucking wet, isn’t she? dripping all over you.”
joshua’s pace falters for just a second as he glances up at wonwoo, and for a moment, they lock eyes. it’s strange at first, like neither of them expected to find themselves in this situation—watching each other while they both take you apart. its strange, strange because...
they start to enjoy it.
they enjoy the way their faces contort, the way their moans mix together, the sight of you caught between them—cocks twitching.
joshua whimpers as looking wonwoo's eyes, a smirk playing at his lips as he gives you another sharp thrust, just to watch you choke around wonwoo’s cock.
the sound of both of them moaning, cursing, panting—it only makes you wetter, makes you crave more.
“shit,” joshua breathes out, his voice strained as he keeps up the brutal pace, his hand sliding up your back, fingers digging into your skin. “fuck, you’re taking us so well.”
wonwoo’s face contorts, his hand tightening in your hair as his cock twitches in your mouth. “you’re gonna make me come if you keep going like this,” he groans, his eyes rolling back slightly as he fights to stay in control.
you whimper around him, your body shaking as the pleasure builds higher and higher, and you can feel yourself getting closer, every movement, every touch is pushing you nigher, and the sounds of their moans, the way they’re both so fucking into it—it’s enough to send you over.
“cum for us,” joshua growls, as his hips slam into you again, harder this time.
wonwoo’s grip tightens, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he watches you, his fingers flexing slightly on the back of your neck. “show us how fucking good you are.”
your body finally gives in. you come hard, your entire body shaking with the power of it, your lips trembling around wonwoo’s cock as you gasp for air.
“fuck,” wonwoo groans, his hand tightening on your neck as his hips stutter forward, his cock twitching in your mouth as he follows you over the edge.
joshua isn’t far behind, his hips slamming into you one last time before he lets out a sly, throaty moan, his body tensing as he spills inside you, filling you up.
wonwoo pulls out of your mouth slowly, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips as he looks down at you. you look at him shaking your head, taking his cock inside your wet mouth again.
the man melts on the headboard, joshua sat, looking how you look eager to make wonwoo cum, like you just cant leave him hanging. your knees give out, but your neck keep working to bob your head.
there's a line of spit dripping from your chin, as you suck him moaning, as the simply action of sucking him, was stimulating you. wonwoo eyes are glued with joshua's, the hyung biting his own bottom lip as he watches every single detail.
wonwoo feels the cock twitching, the gaze of his hyung plus the warmth of your mouth, making him cum on spot. he looks back at you again, the cum filling your tongue, leaving traces of it on your chin and neck, as you moan dumbly before laying on his thigh.
the boys make eye contact again, a smile spreading across their lips.
249 notes · View notes
mickandmusings · 14 hours
Text
indifferent
Tumblr media
pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader
word count: 2.4k
summary: a year ago, the sight of jake seresin would've sent her into a flurry of tears. now, as she stares at him chatting up the bleach-blonde at the bar, all she feels is a deep hatred for the man who charmed the room with his stupid texan accent and encapsulating green eyes.
warnings: 18+ MDNI!!! seriously, this is actually a lot more smutty than usual for me; this is my first attempt at more serious smut so it's not good but we're trying new things!; angsty yet fluffy; exes to enemies to lovers (these two hate each other); no use of Y/N; sort of mean!jake, but not really; reader is described as wearing a skirt
based on megan moroney's 'indifferent'
-
As she walks into the Hard Deck, she's convinced the universe is doing everything it can to royally fuck her over.
She'd hoped for a nice night with some random but handsome Naval personnel, make him pay for drinks, give him a rather steamy and heavy make out session, and leave before it can go any further. When she enters from the beach side doors, her eyes scan the room for...Brayden? Brandon? Brian? She couldn't really remember the name attached to his Tinder profile, only remembering the beauty of a Bronco in his pictures, but he wasn't important. What was really important was the spine-chilling hate crawling up her chest as she spots the khaki-uniform-clad blonde at the bar.
Jake fucking Seresin.
Her eyes narrow, knowing her night had already soured, and it hadn't even started. She and Jake had a....history, of sorts. By history she meant deep-seeded rage and hatred for one another after a failed relationship. A year ago, she had been in a mutually exclusive relationship with the aforementioned Lieutenant Seresin, well, one she had thought had been mutually exclusive. Until she found herself worrying and fretting every time he went out with his friends. And her gut had been right, because only six months into the relationship she'd had the dreaded 'hey girl, is this your man?' message sitting in her Instagram DM. When he came home that night and had denied it all, vehemently, she might add, it had escalated to a screaming match and her storming out of the house. From that moment on, she hadn't even bothered to check-in on what he was doing in his life. She hated Jake Seresin, and as much as she told herself she was indifferent to what he was doing with the bleach-blonde giggling next to him at the bar, she knew her skin itched to ruin his night.
Instead, she decided to be the bigger person. In her direct line of vision, she found an empty table in the corner and made her way towards it. She had passed the bar successfully, and she was merely inches away from taking her claim on the seat when his southern accent tumbles into her ears.
"Didn't expect to see you here, darlin'."
Fuck me now.
She takes a deep breath before turning around meeting his tall figure. He hadn't changed, still muscular and broad, big green eyes and well-kept blonde hair. She rolls her eyes, tapping her nails against the table nonchalantly. She didn't care about him, and she would not fall victim to his charms-never again.
"What do you want, Seresin?"
His eyes widen, a shit-eating grin creeping on his face as he raises his hands in mock surrender.
"Damn, sweetheart, I'm just sayin' hello."
"Yeah I bet. Hey, Jake. Now, you better scurry back to your girl at the bar before she gets scooped up by one of your little Navy buddies."
He looks back at Coyote's girlfriend he had been casually catching up with, certainly not flirting, but if it riled up the girl in front of him, well, then he'd play into it. Jake shrugs, sliding his hands into his pockets.
"Not too worried about it, not really interested."
Yeah, I bet.
"So what do you want with me? Because you're not here to play catch up, Seresin."
Jake takes a good look at her, she's obviously here for a date. Her outfit is casual enough for the bar, but accents her curves enough to attract some appeal. Even enough to make his own pants feel tight. Whoever she was here with was one damn lucky man, no matter how jealousy burned at Jake's chest.
"You look good tonight."
She audibly scoffs, rolling her eyes at the compliment.
"If you're here to grovel about what happened, save it. You should've done that a year ago."
Jake bristles, annoyed. Their blow-up fight had been a simple case of misunderstanding. He hadn't been flirting with the girl at the bar that night, he'd been helping her escape a creep who had been following her around the bar. He had to admit, the photo had been a little...compromising, when taken out of context. She'd never even given him a chance to explain himself before blowing it out of the water. They'd both yelled at one another, not bothering to hear either side of the other's statements. She left full of shaking anger, and he hadn't seen her since, until now.
"Maybe I could've groveled if you would've listened to me for two damn minutes."
She swings her head around, her own feelings bristling as she raises her voice.
"Listen to you?! The evidence was pretty damn convincing, Jake!"
He breathes deeply, cutting his green eyes to Phoenix standing at the pool table. The brunette lifts a brow in his direction. Jake knows this is going to escalate quickly, both of their tempers flaring, and for the sake of not ruining his reputation in front of his coworkers, he grips her arm and takes her outside to the parking lot.
"What the fuck are you doing?! Get your hands off of me!"
As they approach the spot where his truck is parked, he lets go of her and she crosses her arms.
"You're yellin' at me like some kind of crazy in there. My teammates are in there-"
"Oh! God forbid the great Hangman is embarrassed in front of his friends."
She's angry, flaring with an annoyance so great she's blind to what she's saying. Jake, a man known for his ego, seems to flare in the same manner. His voice is biting when he speaks.
"That's not what I meant, and you know it!"
"I swear to God, you must get off on the idea of pissing me off!"
They're loud, yelling over one another about trivial things-her being here on a date, him flirting at the bar with another girl, stupid things that didn't amount to much, but nearly anything could fuel the fire between them. Both were still ridiculously attracted to one another, despite everything, and their feelings ran deep. Jake's face is red-between the heat of California and his searing annoyance, he had begun to work up a sweat. Not to mention how incredibly hot she looked when she was pissed. Their voices could not get any louder at one another, spouting off any detail they could think of. Finally, it draws to a head when she spits out her next sentence, her tone biting.
"You know, I fucking hate you, Jake Seresin."
Jake chuckles dryly, no humor lacing his tone.
"That's a harsh claim comin' from the girl givin' me fuck me eyes."
She recoils, crossing her arms over her chest. She knows he's right, despite her annoyance with him, she knows there's still a fire between them, one she tries to swallow despite her blood burning and her heart racing.
"You wish, asshole."
"Yeah, I do."
His response shocks her, his tone softer than before, but his eyes nearly predatory. He can feel his usual roomy uniform grow tight, his jaw clenched tightly. Her eyes dart between his own as they glimmer in the moonlight, and she finds herself unable to find a retort. No worries, Jake's voice oozes with charm and seduction.
"What? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden, darlin'? You sure were all talk only a few seconds ago."
"Y-You don't mean that."
Her voice comes out small and unsure, her throat feeling dry and her entire being throbbing with the tingle of desire.
"Don't mean what?"
He comes closer, eyes never falling from her own, his calloused hands coming around her hips. He almost expects her to flinch out of his touch, but she lets him hold her against his own hips. She can see and feel the evidence of his own arousal, the usual light color of his eyes dark with lust.
"You think I'd lie about wantin' you? You're a damn fool if you think that, I've thought about you since the night you ran out my door."
She stills, her heart racing as she manages to form a thought.
"Y-You cheated on me, I'm not falling for this."
She goes to turn from his hold, but his grip on her hips is tight.
"No."
His voice is firm, demanding.
"That ain't what happened. You just never gave me a second to explain it. So I'm gonna talk, and you're gonna listen, got it?"
His voice was serious, but he was never intimidating or scary. Jake might be an asshole, but he'd never lay a hand on her, not like that.
"I wasn't flirtin' with that girl, never did, not once. That girl asked me to help her, and whoever sent you pictures of us got it all out of context. I might be a dick but I wouldn't do that to you, and I thought you knew that."
She looks at him, conflicted between wanting to jump his bones or punch him square in the jaw. She settles on simply asking a question.
"So why did you never try to call me? O-Or text me to explain?"
"Would you have listened?"
She already knew the answer to that.
"No."
He raises an eyebrow, nodding his head in a knowing look. Both halves of the couple are quiet for a minute, not knowing where to go from here. She's the first to break the silence.
"So, what does this mean?"
Jake shrugs.
"Nothin' if you don't want it to. But if you want me like I want you right now, I'd be okay with that, too."
The heat-filled tension is almost palpable, both of their chests heaving with barely contained want. Jake wants nothing more than to throw her over his shoulder and take her in the backseat of his truck, but this isn't his decision. It's hers-she has to decide if he's what she wants.
She cocks her head to the side before looking back up at him.
"And if I do want you like you want me?"
He feels himself twitch in his godforsaken uniform.
"Then you say the word and I'll make you forget whatever little shit you came here to meet."
In all honesty, she already had forgotten about...Bryson? Fuck, she really couldn't remember the poor guy's name.
"I swear to God, Seresin, if you don't touch me I'll lose my fucking mind."
Jake grins, pulling her flush against him.
"Well we can't have that can we, darlin'?"
His lips meet her own with little warning, a frenzy of clashing teeth and fumbling hands. Jake's hands meet on her back dangerously low, before he's placing his palms flat on her ass, pulling her up and her legs wrap around his waist. Her body flames at even the smallest stimulation, and when his hard-on meets her core, she lets out a provocative moan. Jake is going blind with an unbridled, insatiable want, and he wants-no-needs her, now.
"Baby," he grunts as her hips roll into his own. "You gotta stop that or I'm gonna take you right here in this goddamn parkin' lot."
She pulls back from his gaze, giving him a look as she breathes heavily, her lips plump from his fervor.
"When have we ever been above fucking in your back seat?"
Jake shakes his head and slams open the back door of his truck, wasting zero time tossing her lightly against the leather seats. Once, not so long ago, she would've given him shit for his ridiculous truck, but in this moment, with nothing but pure lust in her eyes, she was thankful for his spacious back seats and tinted windows. He slams the door behind him, and effectively clicks the lock attached to his keys before tossing them into the passenger side seat, his hands now free to grasp the supple flesh of her bottom. His lips return to the open plain of her neck, and she sighs, knowing he was headed towards the sweet spot in the junction of her neck and jaw. He finds it within seconds, and she chokes on a gasp. Her hands find purchase in his blonde locks, a lot less soft from the gel, but still comfortable. Jake groans against her collarbone from the sensation alone, his hips subconsciously thrusting to meet against her own. His lips travel down to the exposed top of her chest before he pulls back, tossing his uniform top and undershirt, dog tags dangling down to brush against her skin. He looks down at her with his hands grasping her hips.
"You sure about this?"
She nods, she'd never been more sure.
"I need your words, baby."
God, this man was going to kill her.
"Yeah, I'm sure, Jake."
In one swift move, he's yanking down the skirt on her hips, her undergarments with it. His knee separates her legs, leaving her completely exposed to his eyes alone. He shakes his head and tuts, smiling the infamous Hangman grin.
"As beautiful as the day I lost 'er."
He darts back down between her legs before beginning to ravish her completely. The next long stretch of time is spent with both of them completely lost in one another. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the air, mingling with cries of pleasure, mangled gasps, and the whispers of each other's names. By the time they both fall against one another after their heights, they're panting and sweating, completely sated and exhausted. The air is quiet, only their heavy breaths between them. Jake is the first to speak after a bout of nothingness.
"Who were you here to meet with anyhow? Hard Deck doesn't seem like somewhere you'd come for shits and giggles."
She takes a breath, rolling over to lie on his chest, tucking her head under his chin as his large hand grips her hip, pulling her closer.
"Met some guy on Tinder. Brayden? Bryson? I don't remember, just saw a really nice Bronco in his pictures. Seemed cute enough for a casual Friday night."
Jake's eyes widen, he moves his head to his hand, propping himself up to look down at her.
"Bradley, maybe?"
She shrugs.
"Yeah, maybe, why?"
"He got a mustache, lots of funky patterned shirts?"
She furrows her brow, wondering how he knew.
"Yeah, why?"
Jake groans as he lays back down, running a hand over his face. She giggles, leaning up to prop her head on his chest.
"What?"
Jake grins.
"I can't believe I was about to lose you to Bradshaw of all people."
She listens to him chuckle, but she doesn't return the action. She shakes her head, pushing blonde hair out of his face.
"You won't lose me, not again."
-
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rey-jake-therapist · 2 days
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"Sauron is not enough evil and scary in Rings of Power"
Because he was scary in LOTR?! That thing is scary to you?
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I'll tell you what : Sauron's eye in the movie NEVER scared me. Not even a little bit. I remember that the first time this big ridiculous eye appeared on screen, we all chuckled because... "That's it? that's Sauron?" . And the least that we can say, it's that in terms of personnality... Well he has none, right? The conversations must be nice:
"Hey Sauron, how are you today?
Sauron: RING! RING !!! AHHhrhzjjjjjjj RING!!!!!!!
Oh yeah, the ring, sure Boss. Anything else you need?
Sauron: RIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG!!!"
Fascinating.
I hate to break it to you, but movies Sauron is BORING. He's boring because he's hardly an entity. He's more a concept, and at the end everything about him rests on what the characters tell us about him: that he's extra evil, very cruel, a tyrant, obsessed by the One Ring, yada yada. But since he's no more than this giant eye on a tower, he never becomes tangible. We believe he's evil because that's what everybody says and also because of what his unpaid employees do, but he never gets to do anything himself, so we don't really see it.
Shelob scared me. The Nazguls terrified me. Heck, I was more afraid than Gollum than I was of Sauron. Don't laugh, did you see his teeth? I would be at least afraid to catch an horrible disease if he bit me...
In ROP, however, Charlie Vickers nails it as Sauron. He may not be literally on fire, but his evilness and his cunningness are palpable in season 2. I mean, the way he treats Celebrimbor?! If that's not sheer cruelty I don't know what it is, and it will get even worse in the episodes to come. Sauron doesn't take no for an answer. He tortures Celebrimbor, not physically but psychologically to bend him to his will. Since day #1, he lies constantly to Celebrimbor, flatters him, tells him what he wants to hear, gaslights him, isolates him from his people, nearly drives him to madness and only at the end, threatens to destroy his city if he doesn't do what he wants... That's not evil enough for you?? Oh, and add "creepy" on the list too, for this poor girl he keeps being weird with.
And as for the scary side of Sauron: Charlie proves to be an excellent actor when he manages to express his moments of contained rage through his micro expressions. For example, every time Celebrimbor resists him, his face changes enough for the audience to see he would tear the poor man's eyes out if he could, but it doesn't last long, blink and you miss it ! Same in the last episose 6, when King Durin refused to deliver more mithril to him; it was so obvious he wanted to kill the old man on the spot, but he's patient, he'll let the Balrog do it for him. Because yes, he's vicious and likes to keep his hands clean, so he tells animals do the job for him when he can!
But it's there, and we already got to see a glimpse of the sheer fury that can possess him when he loses control : in Numenor, when he beat the shit out of the men who had mocked him, and on the raft when Galadriel rejected him. That was probably just a forestate of what we can expect from the next seasons, folks.
By the way, I wrote all this with love. I love that TROP made Sauron tangible. I can see the threat he is now. I understand why everyone during the LOTR is terrified at the idea that he may come back. And I don't want anyone to fix him, mind you...
TROP Sauron, stay as you are, get much worse, PLEASE!
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skele-bunny · 2 days
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YOU!!!!!
GIVE ME WATER DEW BONDING WITH AETHER PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE I AM BEGGING ON MY HANDS N KNEES RNNN 🫶🫶🫶
MMEEEEE???!?? hehehe say less... Some aren't bonding but just them bc I'm NOT normal about those 2
Once they got past the hiding stage, or at least better than it used to be, they honestly spent a lot of time reading together! Aether would find one about some niche interest they both shared and he'd read to Dew, and then it'd be Dew's turn. Aether would always stare at Dewy as he spoke, how his tied back hair still managed to have loose strands fall next to his cheek. Just humming and suddenly forgetting what's actually being read to him as he's so entranced with the little fish right in front of him.
How they'd sit in the practice room, just them, always doing some type of parallel play. Aether strumming his acoustic hagstrom while looking over his own music while Dew is cleaning his basses, catching little glimpses at Aether and face getting SO warm. He just didn't know there'd be times Aether just watched him with admiration before looking away so he didn't get caught.
Now when they got SUPER comfortable with each other and Dew's honest personality started coming out; they had a little game with each other. Who could hypnotize who first. Dew, with his siren songs or Aether, with his quintessence. So many times Dew won, just softly singing to Aether who's on his knees and just admiring with this drunken look — but a few times Dew would be a puddle in Aether's hold with eyes full of stars, leaning against him.
When they first bonded together, they didn't mate which was super unnatural. Dew simply wasn't ready, and Aether respected that. How they ignored their own instincts and just held each other tightly through the night. It wasn't for a while until Dew felt comfortable enough to finally mate with him, and man :( it was so gentle and slow. Aether has always been the kinda guy to have candles lit in the bedroom, and Dew will ALWAYS associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla for their first time together.
After they were forcefully retired, Dew finally started the conversation of moving in together. Aether absolutely wanted it, and they had begun filling out the form (which was needed at the time) for a room change. Eventually, though, that form was approved but only after Copia arrived. Dew no longer had a sense of what he wanted. Although approved, Dew still has a separate room with all of his old stuff that he only goes to when he needs alone time. Otherwise, he and Aether share his.
"Firefly" came from Aether watching as Dew's bioluminescence kept going in and out while passing through tunnels on the tour bus. He knew it was just because of the lighting but he still found it beyond adorable. "Teddy" came from Dew half asleep and kept whimpering needing his teddy bear he had at the time, stumbling into what he thought was his bunk but instead Aether's and clinging to him.
Dew was a Fergie lover back then, and so many times would just be singing and dancing with Aether in his room. Glamorous and Clumsy was his favorites, and Aether finally gifted him the CD one day and ever since then for like three whole months, you could hear Fergie in the den. Aether got SOOO much shit for it by the others bc to be honest, after hearing Fergalicious after so many times can drive someone mad, but Aether didn't mind. He'd eventually start singing Fergie without realizing and Dew would get SO fucking excited.
There was a brief period where Dew would suddenly bite Aether, and Aether would never figure it out as to why or what would trigger it. They'd just be cuddling and then BAM, his arm is bit. They're making dinner, Dew reaches over on his tiptoes and bites his shoulder. Every time Aether would ask "What was that for?" Dew would just purr soooo much and stay silent. To this day, he still doesn't know that it was Dew laying claim on him. Water ghouls and biting man....
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matrixbearer2024 · 16 hours
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“Daddy dearest can't save you now squirt! You're mine!”
Aeschylus has nightmares about a familiar chaotic triangle we yeet around because LORE! I'm planning to make a comic about him waking up from the nightmare because holy SPAZZ he needs some good shit to recover and help with this.
More lore and context under the cut:
Way back when Aeschylus was a kid he used to adventure out of the shack and into the woods to explore and or bring back neat little critters to ask papa Sixer about(despite his mom having scolded them both about bringing random specimen of all kinds into the house). The behavior didn't really stop even after Ford got sucked into the portal, hell it happened more often because Max kept looking for his dad- convinced he just got lost on an expedition or something similar.
However, as you all know how Cipher messes with everyone's minds when granted the opportunity- the triangle tried to beeline for the kid that most resembled his darling Fordsy in both personality and behavior when the researcher finally grew wise to his shenanigans. He didn't really have many opportunities to for a couple years because of Stanley and Ford's wifey protectively hovering over the triplets but Bill would say waiting four earth years was well worth the return for the damage he had inflicted.
All it took was a little bit of stroking that same flame of curiosity as he did Sixer and Aeschylus was all his for the taking. Like father, like son, Bill couldn't have found it more amusing. Slowly he guided the kid deep into the forest, away from the eyes of mother mayhem and uncle irritating.
Much to the triangle's annoyance however, Aeschylus was more cautious of him than Ford ever was. The kid refused to make a deal with him and even tried running away at some point when he finally realised what the triangle was trying to do.
"Nu-uh! You're the weird guy that made my daddy crazy! My mommy says to never make a deal with you!"
Bill was pretty pissed at this point that his plans are being proper screwed with so he forced his hand.
"If you're not going to give me access to your head, I'll just take it then!"
Imagine having taken your eyes off your eldest toddler son for just a second only to find him suddenly gone. It took so much strength to even allow the kids outside of the cabin you called your home ever since Cipher started haunting you and the family since Ford's unfortunate incident with the portal. To find Aeschylus missing would've driven anyone at that point into a flurry of panic.
When Stan came out to check on the both of you, his expression of dread and anxiety merely mirrored your own to a lesser extent. The two of you immediately shouting for the kid as you checked the nearby area thoroughly, the both of you making your ways deeper into the forest surrounding the log cabin cautiously.
It was Stanley who found Aeschylus first, seeing the kid strung up high into the canopy was eerie enough but noticing he wasn't responsive made the panic shoot sky high. There was some kind of large furry creature that poked and swat around the young boy like a pinata which Stan immediately threw hands with the get rid of the darn thing in his emotional high.
You heard the screaming and shouting and rushed over before feeling sick to your stomach, there your kid was- but strung by the neck by a vine so high he seemed to nearly be a part of the forest canopy. You steeled yourself and pulled the small pistol from your pocket which your husband had made prior with the intention to use it for hunting creatures.
Who knew it's first use would be as a pivotal tool to save your son?
Despite shaky hands and eyes blurred with tears, your aim rang true and the ion blast burnt the vine clean a couple inches above the toddler's head. You didn't account for the tall drop however, as the priority was first and foremost to get him down before he was hung to death.
Thankfully, Stanley had been paying close attention as he managed to catch Aeschylus with a loud grunt. The kid was dropped on him like a bomb multiple times both literally and metaphorically but this moment falls under the former. Your stomach dropped to the floor when you also started to smell the familiar metallic tang of blood.
It wasn't rocket science for both you and Stanley to know that you needed to rush Aeschylus to the hospital, especially as the vine around his neck unwound to leave a large and nasty wound that seemed to circle around his entire neck. The vine itself was thorny and barbed but it had apparently dug deep enough into the kid's skin to cut.
Stanley drove to the hospital like a bat out of hell while you kept a towel firmly pressed into your son's neck in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The kid was breathing but shallowly, not to mention he was turning paler by the second.
You and Stan were never really religious, but you could both only really pray to whatever deity was up there if there even was any- to keep Aeschylus alive. You wondered how much your husband would've lost his shit had he been here, but you swallowed down the grief at the reminder of him as your in-law pulled into the ER parking lot.
Memories from that point on were a blur, you could only be grateful that despite the apparent tension between your husband and his twin brother- Stanley didn't just leave your family behind. He was expectedly dejected that he wasn't even told about the triplets getting born, much less his brother getting married, but he still stayed to care for you all in place of his brother. Not to replace him, but to do what he knew Poindexter would've and should've had he not been stuck wherever the portal threw him.
By the time you'd been able to see Aeschylus again, the doctors claim that it's a miracle the kid even survived. It's as if just enough pressure was put on his neck not to kill him but to make him suffer. He didn't pass out from oxygen deprivation, but from the pain.
You fell to your knees sobbing when you heard that, already knowing what or who was responsible rather because of their words. Aeschylus couldn't talk for a couple weeks due to this incident, and even afterwards his voice had changed due to the damage.
You regretted this moment every single day afterwards, all the more when your son even refused to step a foot outside anymore. He refused to explore the woods he once loved, the woods your family used to stroll by sunset or camp out in when Ford was still around.
Aeschylus started wearing high-collared shirts or turtlenecks to hide the scar as well, not telling anyone exactly why or how he got into that situation in the first place as everyone in the family already had an inkling or hunch. They didn't need to ask. He didn't want to be shifted to homeschool however, as much as you and Stan tried to convince him- since he seemed determined to study for whatever reason.
This event still gives Aeschylus nightmares until the present day, Bill Cipher didn't get into his head- but the triangle got damn well close and he would've had to pay his life if you or Stan hadn't found him.
Those same nightmares is why Aeschylus barely manages to sleep, having developed insomnia out of the fear and paranoia around the same time he was able to come home from the hospital. Even if you asked him now what was the scariest experience in his life, Aeschylus would likely mention this near death experience- as nothing else in his life has ever come quite close to this incident, not even weirdmaggedon.
Sketchy for this piece is here:
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scary-grace · 2 days
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Enough to Go By (Chapter 16) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic
Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
Chapter 16
“We can’t stop here.”
“Why not? It’s out of the way. There are abandoned buildings. It’s perfect.” Dabi gestures down at the small village between the hills. “I don’t get what your problem is.”
Spinner crosses his arms over his chest. “Just trust me. It’s not a good place.”
“Why not?” Toga asks – whines, almost. “I’m tired. It’s dark. Can’t we just find somewhere and –”
“We’ll protect you if there are ghosts!” Twice chimes in. “Or you can sleep in a tree.”
Spinner’s shoulders stiffen. “Hey,” you warn. You turn your attention to Spinner. “If you know something we don’t that makes it not safe for everybody –”
“It’s safe for you all,” Spinner says. “Not for me. This is a sundown town. The CRC has a branch here.”
Your heart sinks. “The who?” Tomura says blankly. Everybody else looks just as confused.
“The Creature Rejection Clan,” you say, before anyone can prompt Spinner to explain. He shouldn’t have to explain. “They’re a hate group. Against people whose quirks visibly alter their bodies.”
“Mutants,” Spinner says shortly. “If they catch you with me we’ll all be in trouble. It’s safer to find somewhere else.”
“No,” Tomura says. You look askance at him, and you’re not the only one. “Fuck them. They don’t own this town. Why should you have to leave? Let’s just kill them and then we can all sleep.”
“Um –” You feel like you should say something about this turn of events. Like that murdering however many people are in this town’s CRC branch is a bad idea if you’re trying to keep a low profile. “Shouldn’t somebody scout and find out what we’re looking at as far as numbers go? I can do that.”
“Yes,” Compress agrees. “We should plan –”
“We don’t need a plan.” Tomura cuts him off. “We’ll tell them we’re there to steal their shit. When they attack us, we’ll kill them, and then we’ll steal their shit. Easy.”
“Like an item drop,” Spinner says, and cracks a weak, angry grin. “Fine with me. Let’s go.”
The CRC branch headquarters isn’t hard to spot. The League strategizes quietly on the walk there, trying to decide who will attack what, and you walk in the middle, unsure of what to do. They’ll tell you what to do, right? Somebody will. It’s not like you can fight. Sure enough, Tomura drops back from a conversation with Twice and falls into step beside you. “I want you to stay out front.”
“Still keeping your precious Saintess’s hands clean?” Dabi sneers. “She’s on the run. It’s too late.”
“We need a lookout,” Tomura says. “If it looks like backup’s coming, we need to know. And if anybody gets out –”
“Not likely!” Toga trills.
“Someone needs to stop them,” Tomura continues. “Can you do that?”
“Yes.” You answer before you’ve really thought about it, but you won’t be any use in the main fight, and if they’re doing this, you need to help. Besides, how hard could it be?
The answer to the question “how hard could it be” turns out to be “pretty hard”. The League is outnumbered, unable to use Dabi’s wide-range quirk without potentially burning themselves alive, and Toga and Spinner are the only ones who actually use weapons in hand-to-hand combat. The front door locks from the inside, and while you know Compress locked it on the League’s way in, it must not be very hard to unlock, because there are multiple people trying to open it and escape. You throw your weight back against it to keep it shut, but you’re not going to be able to forever. “Um –”
“Hey, where are you guys going?” Toga’s voice is syrupy sweet and all the more terrifying for it. You hear an agonized shriek. “Come back in! We were just starting to have fun!”
The pressure on the door lessens significantly, but a moment later, there’s a crash, followed by someone in a creepy mask diving through a window and sprawling out on the ground in front of you. This is your job to deal with, but you don’t have a weapon. A quick check of your surroundings reveals an umbrella stand by the door. You knock it over, spilling the umbrellas, then pick up the stand. The CRC member is on their hands and knees, struggling to rise, and you deliver a sharp strike to their kidneys with the base of the stand.
You knew what you were aiming at. You know it hurts. The CRC member shrieks, and your stomach turns. “Stay down.”
Toga vaults through the window and lands on the ground, graceful like a cat. “Thanks for grabbing him,” she says. She stabs one of her syringes into the man’s leg and his body jerks as the device on her back begins to suction blood at a rate that collapses his veins. “We’re almost done in there. It’s too bad you couldn’t see Tomura-kun fight. You’d like it when he gets angry.”
You don’t know that you would. You don’t feel very good about what you just did. You’re not sorry that you hit the guy who tried to escape, and you’re not sorry that the members of a hate group are getting what’s coming to them, but – you don’t really know why you feel weird. You just know it’s the kind of thing you should keep to yourself.
The front door opens just as Toga’s finished draining blood from the man you hit. Dabi sticks his head out. “Grab that guy and get in here. We’re searching the place.”
Toga grabs the dead man’s feet, leaving you to grab beneath his shoulders, and the two of you drag him up the front steps and into the house. You’re used to handling the injured. You’re not used to dead bodies. You’re more than a little relieved to set him down, and you don’t feel entirely better until Tomura’s touched him and turned the corpse to dust. “We’re searching in groups, in case anybody hid,” he informs you and Toga. “Toga, you’re with Compress. And you’re with me and Spinner.”
You nod and follow them deeper into the house – Tomura in front of you, Spinner behind. “Did either of you get hurt?” you ask. There’s an awkward silence. “I need to know.”
“I got clipped. It’s not that bad,” Spinner says. You glance back and see him grimacing, and you switch spots with him in line without another word. “It’s not that bad. Seriously.”
“I’ll look at it once we’re done,” you decide. You address Tomura next. “What about you?”
“They couldn’t touch me.” Tomura disintegrates the first door the three of you come to and peers inside. “Empty. Let’s search.”
There’s not much in the room. Some antiques, but those are easier to trace than regular stolen goods and would be harder to sell. There’s a bookshelf, and a case full of ancient bladed weapons, which Spinner promptly breaks and begins to sort through. “These are old but good,” he says. “They did a better job with steel back in the day. Here.”
He’s holding out a knife to you. “You should have a real weapon. I don’t know how you stopped the guy who got out –”
“Umbrella stand.”
Spinner looks honestly taken aback. “A knife’s faster,” he says. “Take it.”
“Thanks,” you say. You’ll have to think of somewhere to put it later. It won’t be much use in your backpack.
Out of everybody who’s searching the house, you and Toga come up with the items with the highest resale value – Toga has a good eye for clothing, and having recently hidden your own jewelry from Compress, you have a good idea of where to look for concealed objects. Rather than helping with the search, Dabi’s gone looking for food, but in spite of the fact that he’s found whatever the CRC was planning to eat at the conclusion of their meeting, he’s still in a mood. “Why are we doing this? Wasn’t the point of the supply caches so we wouldn’t have to?”
“This wasn’t just for food and a place to sleep. It was about taking out the trash, same as dealing with Overhaul was.” Tomura starts picking through the food. You sit Spinner down to check out his injury. “There’s no place for them in the new world.”
Dabi makes a derisive noise, and nobody else is paying attention – but you’re right up close with Spinner, and you see his eyes widen. “The new world?” he asks quietly. “I’ve never heard him say that before. Do you know what he’s talking about?”
You nod. “You should ask him.”
“No, you should tell me so I can decide if I want to know. I – ow.”
“Sorry,” you say. “Do you know what this is from?”
“It was a pitchfork. Classic, right?” Spinner scowls, grimaces, while you explore the wounds. They’re deep, but not deep enough to do real muscle or organ damage. Infection will be the biggest risk – like it usually is. “How’d you know about the CRC? Most people who have quirks like mine – don’t.”
“Most big cities have CRC offshoots. Yokohama’s no different.” You clean out the wounds one at a time, doing your best to be gentle. “They have neighborhoods they hang out in, and the clinic I worked in sat near the border of one. People they attack come to the clinic for treatment. Or hide in there to get away. The CRC are, um –”
“Top-flight assholes.”
“Yeah.” You pick up some bandages and a roll of medical tape. “I shouldn’t have talked over you earlier. I just didn’t want you to have to explain.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad somebody else knew what I was talking about.” Spinner gives you a curious look. “How are you doing with all this?”
“This?”
“Being on the run.”
“Oh,” you say. “It’s fine.”
It’s been three weeks since you took a leave of absence from work and ran for the hills, and since then, life’s been broken up into long periods of travel and short periods of stillness. Kurogiri was captured by the heroes sometime after the temporary alliance with Overhaul was made, which means that overland travel at night is the only way the seven of you can get anywhere without getting in trouble. You aren’t doing hardly any fighting, and your medical skills are only needed when somebody needs patching up, but you’re keeping busy in spite of that. You’re still the only person the police aren’t looking for.
Scouting, supply runs, running interference if the daytime hiding place is at risk of being found – all of it falls to you. You’re supposed to be a medic. On a day-to-day basis, you’re logistical support. It’s exhausting, but not particularly dangerous. It feels more like a hard day’s work than anything else, and at the end of it, you’re with Tomura, which is the important thing. You’re there to remind him that a new world can be built after the old one’s been destroyed, to convince him that the new world is something he wants to be a part of. That’s your job now, more than anything else.
Tomura comes over to check on you and Spinner. “How bad is it?”
“Painful, but they aren’t deep,” you report. “I’ll monitor them, but the infection risk is low so long as we all stay clean.”
“That’s the hard part,” Spinner mumbles. “It’s too cold to take baths outside.”
“Saintess said no more baths outside anyway,” Twice calls from the other side of the room. “Since some people can’t swim.”
“You can say Tomura-kun,” Toga says. “It’s okay.”
The realization that Tomura can’t swim was an unpleasant one for everybody, since it necessitated yanking him out of an icy pond while avoiding contact with his quirk. Twice and his clones came in handy, and nothing bad happened other than embarrassment on Tomura’s part, but it’s still not an experience you want anybody to repeat. “We’ll find ways. Worst comes to worst, I’ll rent us a motel room.”
“One motel room for all of us? You’d be doing the heroes’ work for them,” Dabi sneers. “If I have to sleep in a confined space with all of you, you’ll be dead by dawn.”
“Fine. The roof of the hypothetical motel room is all yours.”
Tomura looks irritated. “He’s this close to being more trouble than he’s worth,” he says in a low voice. “We could cut him loose without the risk he’d turn us in. He hates heroes as much as I do.”
“Yeah, but he’s our only ranged attack,” Spinner says practically. “I say stick it out.”
Tomura glances at you. You hate it when he does that on questions about strategy. “Keep him,” you agree. “He’s all talk.”
Tomura nods, still dissatisfied. Spinner looks a little nervous about it, but you aren’t – it’ll dissipate, like most of Tomura’s bad moods do sooner or later. He’s moody, but not volatile. “Do you want food?” he asks abruptly. You nod. After a second, so does Spinner, and Tomura gets up and walks away.
“Is he really getting food for us?” Spinner asks. You nod again. “And you’re sure about the new world thing. It’s not going to piss him off if I ask?”
You shake your head. Tomura mentioned Spinner specifically as someone you should talk about it with, but you think the idea itself should come from Tomura. The mission all of you are on is Tomura’s dream, really – you’re just trying to make sure it doesn’t kill him.
Tomura comes back with some of the food that Dabi scavenged, passes it out, and sits down next to you to eat. Spinner waits until Tomura’s mouth is full before he asks. “So, uh – you mentioned a new world. What’s that about?”
“Ask her.”
“No.” You glare at Tomura. “I’m your sidekick. It’s your idea. Tell him like you told me.”
“I’m not telling him like that,” Tomura says, and you elbow him, exasperated. He’s smirking slightly behind the hand as he addresses Spinner. “The old world has to be destroyed. Once it’s gone there’s a blank slate. And you –”
You elbow him again. “We get to decide what it should be like,” Tomura corrects himself. “Mainly her. And the two of you should talk about it, because you have ideas, too. Right?”
“Uh –”
“Anti-discrimination laws,” you suggest. Tomura snorts. “Come on. Anarchy isn’t sustainable long-term. A new world won’t automatically be better than the old one. If we don’t want it to be worse, we have to make sure it isn’t.”
“If you say so.” Tomura wolfs down his last few bites of food, then lies down, stretching out with his head in your lap. “I’m done planning for today.”
You can tell Spinner doesn’t like seeing Tomura call it quits when there are things to do. You make eye contact with him and try to bridge the gap. “You wouldn’t have checked out from the world if you thought it was a good place to be. Tell me what’s wrong with it.”
You and Spinner talk a bit while Tomura dozes, but things are winding down, and eventually the League barricades the front door, shuts the windows, and retreats into two of the back rooms to sleep. Tomura stirs when everyone else leaves, but when you try to get up, he won’t let you. “We can’t sleep out here,” you remind him.
Tenko kisses you. “Who said anything about sleeping?”
“Tenko –”
He cuts you off with another kiss, one hand sliding inside your jacket, the other dipping into the pocket where you keep his gloves. Tenko’s hair is getting long. You weave your fingers through it as he puts on the gloves, trying to ground yourself, to find a second of calm. You know there won’t be any once Tenko gets his gloves on.
In retrospect, having sex with Tenko for the first time the night before you went on the run might not have been the best idea, because Tenko’s been taking advantage of every second where the others are looking away ever since. In some ways it’s hot. You’ve never had a boyfriend who’s this handsy with you, this addicted to you, and the fact that Tenko barely cares about being caught in the middle of something makes it even better. But as hot as it is, you’re not sure about doing whatever Tenko’s got in mind in a place where at least two dozen people just died.
You don’t even know what he’s got in mind. “Tenko,” you mumble as his lips press against your neck. He bites down slightly and you shiver. “What are you doing?”
“Give me a second.” He’s leaving marks. One at the side of your mouth, one down against your shoulder, and you feel almost uncomfortably hot at the idea that it’ll all be visible without your veil. “Don’t rush me.”
You’re not going to rush him, but your discomfort is building, and if you don’t do something soon, it’ll be too late. You plant your hand on Tenko’s chest and push him back, crawling over him to press your lips against his. You know Tenko likes it when you show you want him, and it’s not hard for you to do. It’s not the idea of hooking up right now that bothers you – more the venue, and you find yourself caring less and less about it with every second that passes. Something is wrong with you.
Knowing that doesn’t stop you from straddling Tenko’s lap, grinding against him. There are multiple layers of clothing between you, but you know he’s getting hard, and you can pretend that the heat between your legs is the result of his touch rather than simple friction. Tenko’s kisses are eager and messy. His hands slide beneath your shirt, up from your waist to your breasts – but your bra is in the way. He taps it impatiently and speaks without pulling away. “I hate this thing.”
“I taught you how to unhook it.”
“Still.” In fairness to Tenko, you’re wearing a front-fastening bra. “I’m banning these in the new world.”
“You don’t get to ban stuff in the new world unless you’re planning to be in it,” you say, and your heart leaps when he doesn’t argue. Then you think about it. “Hate groups, heroes, and bras. That’s really what you want to get rid of?”
“I’ll think of other stuff,” Tenko says, unconcerned. He unfastens your bra, then runs his gloved fingers along the underside of your breasts. One of your nipples is captured between his thumb and forefinger, and he tugs and pinches lightly at it, making you squirm. “This is a good start.”
You hate it when he does this. You hate how much you like it. The friction between your legs provides the only relief, so you grind further into Tenko’s lap, looking for more. “Stop,” Tenko says, an edge to his voice. “Don’t do that if we can’t –”
“Who said we can’t?” You made one last addition to your med kit before you left, hidden in an inside pocket. You slide your backpack off your shoulders, reach inside, and produce one of several condoms. Tenko’s eyes widen. “What do you think?”
He slides his hands out from under your shirt to pull at your leggings and underwear. You decide that counts as a yes. Getting out of your clothes is a pain – your boots have to come off, followed by your leggings, followed by your underwear. Your boring underwear, according to Toga when she helped you pack. A thought crosses your mind, and like your thoughts usually do when you and Tenko are together, it comes out of your mouth. “Do you think my underwear is boring?”
“I think it’s in the way.”
You weren’t sure there was a right answer, but that counts. You kiss Tenko and work on unbuttoning his pants. It’s much less of a production for him, and once his cock is free, you can’t resist taking him in hand for a few strokes. Tenko’s body tenses in response, and you watch as his red eyes dilate. He picks up the condom on his own this time, putting it on with sharp, frantic movements, and as soon as it’s in place, you shift forward, lining up and sinking down onto his cock.
All the air leaves your lungs, and Tenko’s breath hisses out from between his teeth as you settle fully into his lap. “You didn’t give me a second,” he mumbles, his voice strained. A questioning sound is all you can manage in response. “I was going to eat you out.”
Your stomach ties itself in a knot instantly. You shift your weight, drawing your attention to the stretch and pressure of Tenko’s cock inside you instead of on what he just said – or maybe you’re trying to get him to stop talking. You’re not sure which. Either, way, it doesn’t work. “We haven’t done that yet,” he continues. Riding him isn’t shutting him up. You try kissing instead, but leaning forward to do it leads to an unsustainable change in pace, one that leaves you gasping. “I like how you taste.”
Tenko’s hands are on your hips, holding on with an iron grip. You were trying to set a faster pace, but his hold on you forces you to slow down, prolonging the slide of his cock against the most sensitive spots inside you and making you shudder. You wish you’d taken off more of your clothes. You feel hot and shaky all over and somehow even more out of control than you did when you were underneath him the first time. Tenko’s eyes are wide, pupils dilated so far that his irises are noting more than a thin red rim. His hips lift slowly beneath you as his hand leaves your hip to wrap around the back of your neck, pulling you down for a kiss.
Tenko’s pace is slow and intense, almost agonizing. Your legs are trembling so badly that you couldn’t maintain a rhythm of your own if you wanted to. Tenko holds on even as his control deteroiorates, while he twitches beneath you and moans into the kiss. When you draw back to breathe, you find his eyes squeezed shut. A tear leaks from beneath one of his eyelids, and you stare for a moment in shock before leaning in to kiss it away.
From there you kiss the scar over his right eye, the one you’ve never asked about, just like you’ve never asked about the one on his mouth – the location of your next kiss, once you’ve decided against kissing the birthmark on the other side. Tenko sucks down a breath, mumbles your name. Then: “I love you,” he says. Your stomach twists again, this time with anxiety. It doesn’t make a difference to Tenko – he moans and thrusts sharply upwards. Your body shifts independent of your mind, making sure his cock hits the right spot. “Fuck. I can’t – I love you –”
Whatever unspoken rule there is against saying I love you during sex, Tenko’s clearly never heard of it, and seeing and feeling him fall apart between your legs sends you over the edge in a few seconds more. For a moment, your mind goes totally blank, and in the absence of thought or restraint, the worlds almost slip out of your mouth, trailing after his name. “Tenko. Tenko –”
I love you. The weight of it keeps you silent. But only just.
Tenko doesn’t comment on the fact that you haven’t said it back. He never does, which is a relief. You’ve shown that you love him, and you’ll show it again, so it doesn’t need to be said. What does have to be said is the same thing you said last time. “We can’t sleep like this.”
“I know.” The sulky note in his voice almost makes you laugh.
By the time the two of you retreat to the back rooms, some of your anxiety’s worn off, and like always, you feel better once Tenko’s asleep next to you. You have him. All For One can’t take him away from you. He belongs to you, and you’ll keep him with you, through the end of the world and into the new one. The thought comforts you, but it’s not comforting enough to fall asleep on. You’re awake most of the night, like you have been for months.
The League of Villains is awake and in motion before dawn, heading towards Kurogiri’s last pre-capture coordinates. You’re not sure what’s waiting there. Tomura isn’t sure, either – just that it’s something his master left for him, some power that’s supposed to help him reach his goal. Dabi’s theory is that it’s some kind of super-Nomu, while Spinner thinks it’s a weapon. “What kind of weapon?” Twice asks. “Like a sword?”
“No, like a really big gun.”
The idea of Tomura with a really big gun is inexplicably entertaining to you. You struggle to muffle your laughter. “My quirk is better than a gun,” Tomura says. “If it’s a gun, Spinner, it’s yours.”
“Shouldn’t it be mine?” you ask. Tomura looks askance at you. “I don’t have a quirk or a real weapon. And I’m an okay shot.”
“In Call of Duty,” Tomura says. Spinner wheezes. “It’s a game.”
“We should get you a gun,” Toga decides. “Those creepy yakuza guys had one, and they had quirks. You should definitely have one, because you don’t.”
“A gun or a quirk?”
“Both,” Dabi says. He stops walking, and you walk directly into him. “Did you feel that?”
“Feel what?” Twice asks, and makes a fart joke that has Toga and Spinner groaning. “I gotta tell you, Dabi, if you can feel them –”
“There it is again,” Dabi says. He twists around to look at you. This time, you picked up on it, and so did Tomura. “What is that?”
“If I knew I’d say it,” Tomura snaps. “Sensei didn’t tell me.”
“You should have asked. If you had asked, then we wouldn’t be –” Dabi breaks off as the vibration strikes a third time, hard enough to make all of you stagger. A plume of dust rises from between the hills ahead of you. “What the hell is that?”
Not a hill. It’s not a hill. What you thought was a hill is the curved back of some giant thing, and now it’s straightening up, getting to its feet. It rears up, taller than you and everybody else by orders of magnitude, and you see that it’s human-shaped. Its features are craggy, like it’s been carved inexpertly from rough stone. Looking at it, it’s hard not to imagine that this is what Kurogiri was looking for, and it’s impossible for you to imagine that he was unable to find it – or that the heroes didn’t find it, too. All For One didn’t leave Tomura a weapon. He left him a mountain that walks.
The mountain-that-walks steps towards the group of you, rattling your bones on every step. “Master’s heir,” it says, in a voice that sounds like rocks shattering. “Where is he?”
Tomura steps forward. “Here.”
For a few moments they’re simply looking at each other, Tomura looking up and the mountain staring down. Then the mountain’s face distorts, an anguished howl issuing from a mouth filled with jagged teeth. “No! He’s too weak!”
“What?” Tomura snarls. The giant is clawing up dirt and stone from the ground, looking for something. For a weapon. Your blood turns to ice, but Tomura steps forward. “If you think you can just –”
“Die!”
The giant hurls a massive chunk of stone at Tomura, and you throw yourself forward, too, hitting Tomura in the back and knocking you both to the ground. You land hard, biting the inside of your cheek as the rock crashes down in the same spot as Tomura was standing a split second ago. The giant wails again, tears running down its face. “Weak,” it howls. “Too weak. Master, how could you do this to me?”
You’ve got seconds before it throws something else. It’s already looking around for another weapon. You drag Tomura to his feet and pull him away, ducking around the boulder and back to the League. “We need to get out of here.”
“Right now!” Spinner looks just as scared as you feel, which makes two of you who are reacting normally. “If we split up and run –”
“Outrun that thing? No way.” Dabi’s face splits into an eerie grin. “We’ll fight, right, Shigaraki? Or is that thing right about you?”
Tomura yanks his arm free of your grip and takes off toward the giant, throwing an order over his shoulder. “Get her out of here, Spinner!”
It makes sense. Spinner’s quirk doesn’t equip him well for a fight like this, just like your lack of a quirk doesn’t equip you at all. Spinner doesn’t look insulted at being stuck on girlfriend protection duty, and you’re not opposed to getting out of here – except you’ve got a job to do. “I’m the medic. I can’t leave!”
“If they get hit, there will be nothing to fix,” Compress says shortly. Your stomach turns at the thought of Tomura being struck by a flying boulder or getting crushed in the giant’s fist until he’s nothing more than a bloody smear in the dirt. “And he won’t be effective if he’s worried about your safety. Get clear.”
A wave of blue fire fills your vision, then dissipates. Toga’s voice is bordering on a shriek. “That didn’t work, Dabi!”
If Dabi’s flames aren’t having any effect, this opponent’s too dangerous for the League. Tomura’s the only one who could take the giant down, but he’d have to get close. There’s a horrible crash from somewhere ahead of you, and Spinner grabs your arm. “Let’s go!”
You balk again, agonized, but then you hear a voice – one that’s not the giant’s, not Tomura’s, not Dabi’s. Someone else. “How are you, Shigaraki? Are you well?”
“Sure,” Tomura says, tense and frustrated, “but I might be mincemeat in a second.”
“Then let’s have a chat, shall we? Stand by.”
Stand by for what? The giant’s coming. You can’t stand by. You all have to run. You try to say that, but suddenly a foul taste pervades your mouth, and it fills with something slimy, something that makes you cough and gag. Everyone else is doing the same. You hear Dabi curse, the words muffled and then choked off entirely. Your own body contorts in discomfort, and when you force your eyes open, you see black slime emerging from the others’ mouths, engulfing them entirely, engulfing you. It obscures your vision, and when you open your eyes, you’re somewhere else entirely.
It’s some kind of warp quirk, and overall, you much prefer Kurogiri’s. You glance around at your surroundings, just like the others are doing. They’re completely unfamiliar – an enormous room, high-ceilinged and dark. The only light comes from the tall capsules filled with bodies suspended in glowing liquid on either side of you, and from a bright screen up ahead. In front of the screen sits a man.
The location looks unfamiliar. But as you cough and struggle to clear the taste of the sludge from your mouth, you catch a familiar smell. Rot. Like a morgue, and suddenly you know exactly where you are. It was even darker last time, but the smell is unmistakable. This is where you met All For One.
All For One’s not here, and you have a feeling about who the man is, a feeling that’s confirmed a moment later when Tomura speaks. “Doctor,” he says. “It’s been a while.”
“Indeed. I always intended to reach out, but I wanted to see how you would do on your own. It’s been –” the doctor makes a displeased sound. “Underwhelming.”
“What part of taking down the Shie Hassaikai is underwhelming?”
“The fact that it wasn’t your doing. The heroes did the lion’s share of the work,” the doctor says, “while the lot of you merely swooped in, crippled Overhaul after he had already been captured, and kidnapped a child – only to return her. If you’d held onto her, I would have reached out sooner. That was quite a quirk you let slip through your fingers.”
“That wasn’t him. That was me,” you say. You’re not about to let Tomura take the fall for something you did, particularly when you aren’t at all sorry you did it. “If you’d reached out and let us know you were interested, I might have held onto her.”
You wouldn’t have, but there’s no need for the doctor to know that. He rises from his chair and turns to face you. “And who were you to make the determination to let her go?”
“I’m the one who’d have wound up taking care of her,” you say. You already didn’t like the doctor – the fact that he refused to care for Tomura when he was hurt leaves a bad taste in your mouth – but you like him even less now. You keep yourself conciliatory with an effort. “We didn’t have the capability to contain her quirk long-term. It was too much of a risk.”
“And you allow your underlings to make those decisions, Shigaraki?”
“I trust my comrades’ judgement,” Tomura says. “The League of Villains is functional whether we’re working as a group or not.”
“It’s quite a group,” the doctor says. “Let’s see – one teenage girl, one societal reject, two petty criminals, a serial arsonist and murderer, and a civilian to round things out.”
“You went with ‘civilian’ for Saintess? Really?” Dabi never says your codename with anything less than scorn. “Try quirkless next time. Then you’d be eight for eight.”
Now that you think about it, it’s weird that he targeted your lack of a record, when anyone else would agree that your quirklessness is the larger problem. The doctor ignores Dabi. “Still, it’s a team worth paying attention to – and perhaps worth helping, depending on what you intend to use them for. What do you intend to do with them?”
“Destroy All Might.”
The doctor tsks. “Those are your master’s words, and you aren’t him. Try again.”
“Destroy hero society.”
Tomura sounds like he’s taking a test. Taking one, and failing it. The doctor tsks again. “Close, but not quite.”
“Destroy everything,” Tomura snaps, and the doctor smiles. That smile cements your dislike for him for good. “Everything I see, I hate. There’s nothing about this world that’s worth saving, so I’ll destroy it all at once.”
Toga makes a skeptical sound. “What about me, Tomura? Are you even going to destroy the things I like?”
“There’s always room for my comrades’ wishes,” Tomura says. Toga grins. Tomura glances sideways, meets your eyes, then faces the doctor again. “My comrades can’t live as they want in this world. I can’t live in it at all. So I’ll tear it down, brick by brick, atom by atom, until there’s nothing left in our way.”
“Anarchy, then?”
“Anarchy’s not sustainable,” Tomura says, and you find yourself hiding a smile under your veil. “What happens next isn’t my problem. My comrades can choose what to do.”
“What if I don’t want to do anything?” Twice asks. “I want to drink coffee and eat sushi.”
“Ugh,” Dabi mutters. “I don’t give a shit about any of it. As long as nobody stops me from doing what I need to do.”
Every so often, Dabi alludes to some mission of his, trying to lure one of you into asking so he can tell you to fuck off. You’ve all learned to ignore it by now. “As long as the things I like are here, I don’t care what happens,” Toga says. “Everybody else can choose.”
It’s quiet after that, other than Twice musing out loud about whether sushi and coffee go together even slightly. The doctor raises his eyebrows. “Three of you are awfully quiet. Compress, Spinner, Saintess – what plans do you have after you’ve helped Shigaraki destroy everything?”
“I’m keeping my options open,” Compress says. “A true performer waits for the right moment to claim the spotlight.”
The doctor lets that go, probably because Compress is a real adult and not somebody he feels like kicking around. He faces you and Spinner. “The shut-in and the civilian. What will you do?”
Spinner opens his mouth and you cut him off. “I’ll do what Shigaraki asks of me,” you say. It’s not a lie – he’s asked you to build the new world, and you’ll do it as long as he agrees to live in it with you. “I’m his sidekick. That’s my job.”
“I’m not a sidekick, but I’ll do what Shigaraki asks, too.” Spinner’s smart enough not to bring up Tomura’s instructions about the new world. “I don’t have my own vision. I’ll follow the person with the best one.”
“And you believe Shigaraki’s vision is the best one.”
“Yes.” Spinner doesn’t hesitate.
“Remarkable,” the doctor says, but he doesn’t follow up with Spinner. Instead he turns to you. “I have no need to question your loyalty to Shigaraki. You had more to lose in following him than the others.”
More to lose, sure – but losing him would have been worse. The doctor returns his attention to Tomura. “It seems you do have some degree of vision, as warped and simplistic as it may be. And you are capable of inspiring some degree of loyalty. The situation is not as dire as I originally thought.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s still rather dire,” the doctor says, like Tomura’s acceptance of the backhanded compliment wasn’t the most sarcastic thing you’ve ever heard him say. “Still, I’ll assist you on a limited basis for now.”
“How limited?”
“Some financial support. You’re still lacking in that department. That being said,” the doctor continues, “I can promise significantly more should you convince Gigantomachia to submit to you. He was your master’s most powerful servant. If he accepts your rule, I’ll throw my considerable resources behind you.”
“So we have to fight him until he quits?” Dabi sounds skeptical. “Fuck that. I’ve got better things to do with my time.”
“Like what?” Spinner asks.
“There’s a potential ally I’m cultivating. If I’m right about him, it’ll be a coup for us. Way more than converting some random civilian.”
Tomura’s shoulders tense, and you pray he’ll let it slide – and he does. “I look forward to meeting them.”
“While you’re doing that, perhaps you can assist with the testing of a Nomu,” the doctor says. So he’s the one who makes them. You weren’t sure. “I’ve created a class of high-tiers, far more powerful than the Nomu Shigaraki deployed at USJ, and they’re ready to be tested against powerful heroes.”
Dabi looks like he’s about to tell the doctor to fuck off. Then he tilts his head, considering. “How powerful of a hero do you want?”
“As powerful as you can secure. If I’m correct about the strength of the high-tiers, lesser heroes will fall before them easily.”
Dabi cracks a nasty grin. “I’ve got somebody in mind.”
“Excellent. As for the rest of you –” the doctor snaps his fingers, and the smallest Nomu you’ve ever seen scurries forward. It’s carrying a box, and when you look closer, you see that it contains earpieces. “Take these. This is how I’ll contact you from now on.”
You each step forward to take them. “This is really it?” Twice asks, not all that quietly. “We just have to get the big guy to bow down?”
“It won’t be easy,” the doctor says. “His strength and stamina are unmatched. I’ll be very impressed if any of you survive.”
Spinner looks worried. You’re worried, too. Tomura isn’t. “Thanks for the tutorial,” he says to the doctor. You’re last in line to collect your earpiece, and you tuck it into your ear. “Send us back. I feel motivated all of a sudden.”
The doctor signals something – another tiny Nomu – and black sludge begins to erupt from the others’ mouths. The others’ mouths, but not yours. You look to Tomura, a surge of panic rising within you, and Tomura reaches out, his fingers closing on your sleeve for a split second before the warp tears him away. He’s gone. They’re all gone, and you’re alone in here. With the bodies floating in the glass capsules and the two tiny Nomus and the doctor.
You have the knife Spinner gave you strapped to your back, concealed with your backpack, but you don’t know the doctor’s quirk, and you still can’t fight. The only way out of here is if the doctor decides to let you go. “Sir, please –”
“Manners for me, too? I’m glad to see that someone in Shigaraki’s gang of misfits respects common courtesy.” The doctor smiles. It’s not quite a leer, but it’s enough to make your skin crawl. “Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll send you back to your master in short order. I just need to run some tests.”
“Tests?” you say uncertainly. “What kind of tests?”
“Nothing too painful, or too invasive.” The doctor beckons you closer, and you take a few hesitant steps. You don’t want him to get mad at you. This, whatever it is, will be worse if he’s angry. “All For One had a hunch when he met you, and I’d like to confirm it. You want to be as useful to your master as possible, don’t you?”
You don’t like that he keeps calling Tenko your master, but you do want to be as useful as possible. You nod. “Excellent. Hold out your hand,” the doctor says. You do, at which point he jabs a needle attached to an electrode into the meat of your palm. You yelp in pain. “Oh, hush. Has anyone explained the theory of quirk latency to you?”
Even with your palm stinging, even in fear for your life, you can’t help rolling your eyes. “Yes.”
“And you seem not to set much store by it.”
“It’s a lie,” you say. “Something they tell quirkless children so we’ll stay hopeful instead of recognizing how the world really sees us.”
“Explain it for me.”
The needle in your palm is buzzing. It feels like there are insects crawling beneath your skin. “Quirk latency theory suggests that the majority of people who appear to be quirkless are not. Instead, they possess latent quirks – quirks that don’t manifest for the first time unless certain conditions are met, and if those conditions are never met, the person in question appears to be quirkless for their entire life.”
The doctor yanks the sensor out of your palm. “Give an example.”
“If someone’s quirk is driving stick-shift perfectly,” you say. It’s the example you heard in school. It was stupid then and it’s stupid now. “It’ll never show up if they never get behind the wheel of a stick-shift car.”
“Sounds plausible, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t matter,” you say. The doctor wraps a blood pressure cuff around your arm. At least, it looks like a blood pressure cuff – when it constricts, it jabs dozens of needles into your bicep, and you whimper in pain. You can slice into your skin without blinking, but it’s different when someone else is in control. “If it never manifests and you never know what it is, it’s the same as not having one at all.”
“Mm. I suppose.” The blood pressure cuff squeezes your arm agonizingly tight, then beeps and releases. The doctor peels it away. “Your decision to release the girl, while frustrating on a professional level, was the correct decision with regard to Shigaraki’s survival. Lift the veil.”
“Sir –”
“I know your face already. Lift it.”
You raise the edge and flip it back, at which point the doctor stuffs a thermometer into your mouth. That one doesn’t stab you, but he jabs a needle into your lower lip a second later. A mask lowers over your eyes, ringed in tiny needles just like the cuff, and all the needles deliver a low, buzzing shock. The thermometer in your mouth beeps, but the doctor doesn’t remove it. “It’s intriguing that Shigaraki selected you, of all people, to serve as his sidekick – but far more intriguing is the fact that you accepted the role. All For One had charisma. The strength of his character drew others to him, and his wealth and benevolence certainly didn’t hurt. Shigaraki Tomura possesses nothing of the kind. How on earth did he entice a civilian away from what for all intents and purposes appeared to be a relatively normal, happy life?”
Not by being Shigaraki Tomura – and not just by being Shimura Tenko. You call him different names depending on who you’re with, but he’s the same person, the same man, regardless of whether you use the name given to him by his master or his father. The thermometer in your mouth beeps sharply, and the doctor extracts it in a hurry, followed by the needle in your lip. Then he lifts the eye mask away. Next he slaps electrodes onto your temples, the sides of your neck, your forehead, your chest – the same microneedles, the same electric shocks. You clench your jaw against the pain. You’re not going to make another sound.
Why are you letting this happen? The same reason you let Overhaul touch you, the same reason you didn’t give in to panic when All For One’s hand descended over your face. You’re doing it for Tenko, so you can stay with Tenko, so no one will try to take you away from him or take him away from you. When you think of it like that, it’s – not easy to survive, exactly. But it’s easier. Easy enough that the chorus of stings and shocks from the last set of electrodes don’t visibly break your composure.
It’s only once you’re free of electrodes and needles that you remember you were asked a question – and that you don’t remember what it was. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your question. Would you mind repeating it?”
“Don’t worry. You’ve answered it,” the doctor says. “And All For One’s hunch about you was correct. You’re a victim of quirk latency. You are not quirkless.”
You look blankly at him. Your skin is stinging in a dozen places, and there’s an unpleasant buzz in your nerves. “The tests I just conducted were tests of the most common locations of quirk factors,” the doctor says. “The hands, the eyes, the mouth and nose – when receiving certain types of stimulation, quirk factors produce an abnormal response. I was unable to identify a discrete quirk factor for you, which indicates that your quirk is not vulnerable to external attack. Overhaul, Shigaraki, Compress – remove their hands, and they’re useless. Your quirk factor, however, can’t be separated from your body so easily.”
He's looking at you, clearly pleased with himself, clearly waiting for you to respond in kind. “I don’t have a quirk,” you say. Your instruments are wrong.”
“My instruments are never wrong,” the doctor says. “Neither is All For One. You have a quirk, my dear. It’s latent, and without a discrete quirk factor, we have few clues as to what it might be, but make no mistake, a quirk is present. You said you wish to be as useful to Shigaraki as possible. Imagine how much more useful you’d be with your quirk.”
“I don’t have a quirk.” You know you shouldn’t argue, that you should pretend to be happy or at least let it go, but you can’t. You’re quirkless. That’s it. That’s all you’ll ever be. “If I had an actual quirk factor, maybe I’d believe you. But those abnormal reactions – you jabbed needles into my face and shocked me. Of course my system acted up.”
“Your system reacted normally to the electric current. What indicated the presence of a quirk factor was something else. Don’t question me, my dear. This is my area of expertise.” The doctor’s smile is horrendously smug. “I’m tempted to keep you here, and send you back to Shigaraki once we’ve awakened your quirk –”
“No!”
You clamp your hands over your mouth too late to silence yourself, and the doctor continues speaking like you didn’t say a word. “But I’d prefer that Shigaraki stays focused on mastering Gigantomachia, rather than hunting me down to retrieve his favorite toy. I’ll send you back, but well away from the battlefield. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you before we’ve discovered your quirk.”
You know better by now than to argue about whether you have a quirk or not. You nod mutely, and since you have your mouth shut, the black sludge oozes from your nose instead. You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the taste and the sensation to fade, and when you open y our eyes again, you’re on a wooded hillside somewhere in the middle of nowhere. There are clouds of dust rising in the distance, and in the midst of them, you can see Gigantomachia’s silhouette. Tenko’s already fighting him.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you take it out. Twice has been messaging you. A lot.
Twice: Saintess
Twice: hey Saintess
Twice: are y coming back or what
Twice: I k already had to make ten clones of Shigaraki to go get smashed because the real one can’t focus long enough to fight the big guy
Twice: sorry TWELVE clones
Twice: i won’t make any more fart jokes if you come back right now
Twice: WHERE R U HES GOING BERSERK
Damn it. You call Twice, praying he’s not up close and personal with Gigantomachia right now, and he picks up on the first ring. It’s colossally noisy on his end of the line and you find yourself having to shout. “Hey! Tell Tomura I’m fine and tell him to get his head back in the game!”
“Hey, you’re back! What took you so long? I – hey, boss, you might want to get back out there –”
“Make another clone,” Tomura snarls, and a moment later you hear his ragged breathing on the line. “What happened? Where are you?”
“I’m fine. He just wanted to talk. I’ll tell you about it the next time we have a second.” You speak quickly, calmly, even though the sound of Tomura’s voice and the fact that he’s worried about you are this close to making you burst into tears. “He dropped me off away from the battle so I wouldn’t get trampled. I’ll make my way back. Just focus.”
“Drop a pin. Spinner and Toga will come get you.” Tomura swears into the phone a moment later. “It’s not fucking fine. He can’t just –”
“Just focus,” you say again. “We’ll talk. Be careful.”
“I love you.”
Your heart twists. “Be careful,” you say again, and you hang up the phone.
You drop the pin as requested, then use your phone camera to check out the damage the doctor’s tests did. It doesn’t look good. Your lower lip is swollen, and you’ve got a rash around your eyes and your forehead and your neck — everywhere a microneedle went in. Your eyes are puffy, maybe from the needles, maybe from wanting to cry this much and holding it in. But maybe you shouldn’t hold it in. You’ve got some time before Spinner and Toga get to you. Maybe you should just get it out of your system. You sit down on a rock, bury your face in your hands, and cry, but the longer you cry, the worse it gets. A quirk. The doctor says you have a stupid quirk, and your whole life –
You can’t think about it. You can’t stop. You have to stop right now before anybody sees, and with no one else to turn to, you find yourself turning to a coping mechanism you thought you gave up on. It was nice of Spinner to give you the knife. You know for a fact you weren’t supposed to use it for this.
But it works. You wouldn’t do it if it didn’t, and by the time Spinner and Toga come to get you, you’re neatly bandaged under your shirt and sitting behind your veil with dry eyes. “Where have you been?” Toga asks. “Tomura-kun was really upset.”
“The doctor and I needed to talk about something. It’s all okay now.” Your voice sounds perfectly steady, and you’re perfectly calm. The doctor is wrong. You don’t have a quirk. You’ve never had a quirk, and since you’ve never had a quirk, your entire life hasn’t been built around dealing with something that was never even true. “How’s Tomura?”
“If we didn’t have Twice, we’d be screwed,” Spinner says. He looks grim. “Let’s go. Somebody’s probably going to be hurt by the time we get there.”
“What did the doctor want to talk to you about?” Toga asks as the three of you hike through the woods. “Something fun?”
“Not really.” You shrug. “He just wanted to give me a hard time about letting Eri go.”
It’s a safe lie, you think. One the others will buy, if Toga’s reminiscing about how cute Eri is are anything to go by. The real question will be if you can sell that same lie to Tenko. You think you probably can. You’ve lied to him directly before. And you’ve lied by omission, every time he tells you he loves you and you don’t say it back.
28 notes · View notes
farmergirldulce · 2 days
Text
Farmer Confessions Part 2
How would they react to the farmer confessing their love to them? Here are The Bois ᴛᴍ this time~ (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
Part 2: The Bachelors
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♡ 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝒸𝒽
You're honestly quite shocked you started catching feelings for this angry tomato who you could've swore hated you
But as you get to know him you notice his softer side is starting to show and you couldn't help but fall for him (me too bruh LOL)
You decide to get it over with on an occasion when he's sober because you just know he'll be too drunk to take in your confession
Olric just so happens to be out of town that day to visit Merri for her birthday, so it's now or never
Oh god maybe YOU shouldn't be sober for this
You pop into the blacksmith shop at the usual time you go bother March, but this time you have a bag of silver ore to spare him with a note inside that says: "So we going out ore what?"
As lame as that note is you thought your sense of humor would carry you through this
You slap the bag on his desk next to him working on some blueprints with that same shit-eating grin you always give him
"Yo. What's this?"
"Open and see~"
With a raised eyebrow, he opens the bag and sees the ore, mumbling about how it looks good, he can work with this, blah blah
But then he pulls out the note and you feel your heart go to your ass
Before you could have second thoughts, he opens the note and reads it
His deadpanned expression shows he's used to this corny side of you so he's like:
"Good one. You came up with that yourself?"
Then from looking at your shy face, it hits him, realizing the context of that note
His face turns into the same color of his dyed hair
You're spiraling now
"I'm sorry I know you hate me but I didn't know how else to tell you-"
He interrupts you by embracing you, his hand in your hair and his flushed face buried in your neck
"Dumbass. I've never hated you. It's the opposite actually..."
Wait huh? It's mutual??
So far Olric's the only one who knows you two are going out (but March eventually tells Ryis as well) and he's giddy like a schoolboy because he shipped you two for the longest
He's already planning double dates with himself and Merri
Other than that you two keep it lowkey for now until March is comfortable
That is until a Friday night when his tongue slips and calls you "babe"
Now everyone knows and Elsie wants in on the T E A
✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡
♡ 𝐵𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓇
This mysterious man has stolen your heart
However, you're apprehensive about telling him how you feel because you don't want to mistake his flirting for coming onto you
You're worried he's not into you and you're afraid to get your heart broken so you just avoid him for days, bottling your possibly unrequited feelings inside
You don't think he noticed you weren't talking to him but hooo boy he noticed
And he doesn't like it one bit
So one morning Balor shows up at your front door out of nowhere, a worried look on his face
"Hey, you~! What gives? Did I upset my favorite customer?"
You feel an uneasiness at the pit of your stomach
You want to just lie and say you're okay but he deserves to know the truth
You ask him to promise not to laugh at what you're about to say and he crosses his heart with his fingers and whispers softly:
"Out with it."
So you just say it. That you're in love with him and want to be with him
After a brief moment of silence and a slight blush creeping onto his face, he starts to laugh
"Y-You said you wouldn't laugh!"
"Haha, I'm so sorry, but... that's the reason why you weren't speaking to me?? My goodness..."
Then he closes the gap between you two, his hands on your hips and his forehead touching yours
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about you in that way either... so why don't we do something about it, hm?"
You feel like fireworks are going off in your head as he plants a kiss on your lips
You two are definitely the talk of the town after it's made official and he always takes you with him on his strolls out of town
He wasn't sure if he'd stay in Mistria, but now that he has you by his side, he just might be convinced
✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡
♡ 𝐸𝒾𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹
He's such a sweet boi; how could you not be in love with him?!
Something about hearing him ramble on about archeology while sharing sweets together makes you just crave for moments like this all the time
That lil' nerd got you wrapped around his finger
So you get some advice from Reina about what kind of food to make for "a guy you like", but the way you describe the sweets he likes she immediately knows who it is
Aaaand she's squealing, already eager to help you win Eiland's heart through his stomach
She helps you bake a strawberry shortcake and you write a letter to Eiland, inviting him to the dig site for some excavating and cake at night
Dang Farmer, a date already? Lmao
It's a starry night and not a cloud in sight
After the excavation, you reveal the cake and he's absolutely hyped
"Wow, strawberry shortcake?? Thanks so much! I can't wait to try it~!"
The conversation continues, a mix between compliments on how amazing the cake is and about the findings of the excavation
You both are having such a good time you almost forgot why you invited him out tonight in the first place
You gulp and say:
"Hey, Eiland? I have to tell you something."
"Hm? What is it?"
"I... I have feelings for you. I would like to date you, if that's okay?"
His face reddens, sparkles in his eyes. He covers his mouth in excitement and in shock
"E-Eiland?"
"(Y/N)! I'm so happy... I-I like you too!!"
He hugs you while you blink incredulously, not believing what you just heard
He clarifies that he's had a crush on you for a while and was struggling to tell you how he felt
He gives you the most heart-melting smile as he says:
"I-I'll be the best boyfriend you could ever ask for!"
You both walk back to the manor hand in hand and Adeline just so happens to see and she screeches
She bombards you two with questions like "How? Huh? WHEN? Who asked who??"
After she calms down he introduces you to her as his significant other and she's just so happy for you two
And you're both happy as well, a giggling pair of lovebirds
✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡
♡ 𝑅𝓎𝒾𝓈
Both being newcomers in Mistria, it was natural for you and Ryis to hit it off so well
Even to the point cranky ass March was starting to get salty
Like?? They steal my thunder AND my best friend? Fuck em
But yeah, Ryis has always been so nice to you and he's been so pleasant to be around
You don't want to mistake his kindness for flirting but the wINK THO-
Once you notice how often you've been thinking about him, you just know you can't keep it in any longer
You see one of your barns has a loose floorboard and thought it would be a perfect opportunity to ask Ryis for help
You could totally do it yourself but you figure you'd ask since you have to confess your undying love for this guy anyways
Later that day he arrives at your farm with his tools
"Yesss my hero~!"
"Haha, here to save the day!"
After that playful squabble, he rolls up his sleeves and gets to work
Shortly, after hammering the last nail, he gets up and wipes his forehead
"That should do it!"
You simply can't thank him enough and offer him a glass of lemonade before he leaves
You're definitely nervous now that he's in your home and sitting on your couch
CRASH!
Suddenly the nerves get to you and you just drop the glass on the floor
He jolts off the couch
"Are you okay?!"
You're stammering, trying to pick up the broken pieces of glass
"No, stay there! Let me get a broom."
He does just that: grabs a broom to sweep up the mess you made
You're in tears now because you just know he's gonna think you're some clumsy dork
After the clean-up, he takes your hands suddenly to inspect them for cuts
"Are you hurt?"
"Why..?"
Tears are running down your cheeks now and he's definitely worried now
"Why are you so nice to me? I'm just a big mess and I totally get it if you don't like me but I like you and it would be nice to get to know you better and-"
"W-Wait, slow down..."
He wipes your tears with his fingers and cups your face with his hands
"You're... into me?"
You nod without making eye contact
You hear him softly chuckle and here comes The Wink ᴛᴍ
"Do you really think I don't feel the same way about you? Why else did I come to your farm to do a job you were more than capable of doing yourself?"
He plants a soft kiss on your forehead, a blush now forming on his cheeks
"I wanted to see you."
You nearly pass out from the overheating on your face
But once you regain your composure you understand you two share the same feelings and everything turns out alright
He properly introduces you as his significant other to his uncle Landen to which he claps his shoulder in approval
You two are just so affectionate even March is like "ugh get a room"
"Maybe we will."
"HUH?!"
✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡
♡ 𝐻𝒶𝓎𝒹𝑒𝓃
He had you from the moment he arrived on your farm on horseback
Since then you just, desire to ride off into the sunset with him
You've learned a lot about farming thanks to his help and now you feel like this friendship could be something more if he reciprocates
Before you could invite Hayden (and Henrietta of course bc she's a package deal lmao) over to the farm for some tea, you see a letter in the mail from him inviting you over to his farm for dinner tonight
Like??? Holy shit it's a date omg
Sorry Henrietta; you can meet Mother Clucker and Duck Norris another time LOL
You shower and dress decent before heading out
The gentle giant answers the door after you knock
"(Y/N)! So glad you could make it! I don't know what I was gonna do with all this extra quiche I made, haha!"
Then your excitement dissipates when you see Adeline and Celine sitting at the table behind him
Goddammit
Turns out he invited those two as well and you start to feel empty
Who are you kidding? There's no way he'd just ask you over alone...
Of course you feign a smile regardless because there's no reason to not be cordial with Adeline and Celine
You're all just friends having dinner
Just... friends :')
After dinner, the two girls bid farewell and take their leave (after Hayden insisting he'll clean up and not to worry)
You get ready to leave as well
"Goodnight, (Y/N)! Hope you enjoyed dinner. See you tomorrow!"
"Mhm."
He notices your usual tone doesn't sound quite right and tilts his head in concern
"You alright?"
"Huh? OH yeah I'm good! Just tired, haha. Night!"
You practically throw yourself out of there and close the door behind you
Before you could take the dejected walk back home, you hear a bawk behind you
It's Henrietta
She's clucking at you and doing light pecks at your leg
"I don't know what you're trying to tell me Henrietta, but I'm going home, okay?"
She still won't go inside, staring intently
"Okay, maaaybe I'm upset I got the wrong idea and thought your dad wanted to have dinner with me alone because I want to date him because he's a wonderful man and I'm just so stupid for thinking I'd actually have a chance-"
Dude, you're rambling to a chicken
"I-I'm going home! Sorry, Henrietta..."
You start walking back home and almost on queue, it starts to rain
However, after a few moments, before you step through the entrance of your farm...
"(Y/N), wait!"
It's Hayden, running towards you with an umbrella.
"Huh? Oh what's u-"
He bum-rushes into you in an embrace, the force almost bringing you both down to the ground
"H-Hayden?!"
"Is it true...? You like me? As in like like? More than a friend??"
You jolt at the questions. How??
Oh...
Gdi Henrietta you snitch but tysm too??
You gulp
"A-And if I do?"
He grins wholesomely
"Then I'd have to go out with you, of course! I feel the same way about you, ya know!"
He says that like you should've known already?? Like what??
You make a mental note to thank Henrietta later
He walks you to your front door, both of you under the umbrella
"Oh! I guess this makes me your boyfriend, right? Haha, well how about that! You'll be seeing me more often then."
Before saying farewell for the night, he hugs you with a loving squeeze like he never wants to let go
"I look forward to more adventures with you, (Y/N)."
41 notes · View notes
spookyquill · 13 hours
Note
Hi! Saw you're taking JJK requests and here I am. I'm sick and just not getting out of bed so kind of wanted a fic with Satoru where hebwas away for a mission and got back only to find his wife sick (like, nothing life threatening. Just a cold or fever or something) so he decides to take care of her but she feels bad because he's so busy and has to 'deal with her being sick', especially after he just got back from a mission. Thank you so much if you decide to do it! I'm on a different account right now but please tag @ladyodpandemonium if you write the fic so I can catch it. Big thanks!!!
Apologies for the delay, trying to focus on myself and that includes letting some requests go. But I have some drafts ready to post so look out for them.
@ladyodpandemonium
~•~
Bleary eyes open, your head pounding despite the long rest you just took. Snot drips down from your nose and onto the pillow you rest on. With a disgusted groan, you reach over to your bed side table and pull out a couple tissues from the box. As you hold the tissues to your nose, you take notice of the other things occupying your table.
A couple boxes of pills and a glass of water sit there idly next to the box of tissues. They had not been there when you collapsed on your bed. You didn’t even think of those things. Which really meant only one thing.
Gojo kneeled in front of you, his concern etched on his face as he gently tucked your hair behind your ear.
You groan in contentment. “You’re supposed to be on a mission.”
“I’ve completed that. I came home expecting you to be doing pointless chores or something, but instead I’ve found you cuddled up sick in bed.” Gojo sighs, moving his hand to cup your cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve left the mission early to come take care of you.”
You lean into his touch, his palm cool against your flush skin. “I didn’t want to disturb you- wait.” You lift your head up, looking for your phone. “What day is it?”
Gojo gently guided your head back to your pillow, silencing your search. “It’s Thursday. How long have you been sick for?”
Panic washes over you. “Shit. I came to bed on Tuesday. Shit I overslept!” You sit up, ignoring the pulsing headache beginning to take shape. “Why didn’t my alarm go off?!”
Gojo is quick to stop your attempts to get up, standing and keeping your ass on the mattress with his hand on your shoulders. “You obviously needed the sleep. Stay in bed, you need to rest.” When you stop fighting against him, mainly because of the overbearing headache, he moves to sit on the side of your bed, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead and grimacing. “Have you eaten anything?”
You tried to eat something before you went to your bedroom, but everything in the fridge made you nauseous and you couldn’t think enough to cook or heat up some food. Your growling stomach answers gojos questions before you can verbalise any response.
Gojo nods. “Stay here. I’ll heat up some soup for you.”
You shake your head, which protests angrily at the movement. “No, I don’t want to get you sick. I’ve already bothered you enough. You shouldn’t have to deal with me being sick. You’ve been so busy and I don’t want to get you sick because of me.”
Gojo lifts a finger to your chin, tilting it up to look at his sparkling blue eyes. “Nothing matters but you at the moment. I’ll never be too busy for you and I don’t want you to think that you’re a bother to me at all. You take priority over everything else in this world.” He presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Now stay right here, lean against the head rest while I go prep some soup for you. I want you to have something to eat. Keep your energy up.”
You sigh in defeat, mumbling an agreement as he walks out the room. It doesn’t take long for him to come back, but he walks back in to find you almost falling asleep again.
“Baby, I know you’re tired still but I would really appreciate you having something to eat.”
You grumble, eyes lifting lazily to stare at the soup in his hands. Even the thought of lifting your hands exhausts you. And Gojo sees this.
He walks around to the other side of the bed, soup still in hand, and carefully climbs on top of it, nestling himself beside you. He nudges your body to lean upright against him, your cheek pressed to his chest and one arm falling into his lap. He hears your sigh of relief and can feel your muscles relaxing into him. He brings the soup over to you, spoon sitting in it. He holds the bowl with one hand and grabs the spoon with the other, encasing you with his embrace as he does so.
You watch as he scoops up some soup into the spoon and carefully brings the spoon to your lips. As soon as the soup trickles down your throat, you let out a soft hum.
Gojo continues to spoon feed you the whole soup, thankful that your eating something at least. Once the bowl is empty, he places the spoon down in it and puts the bowl on his bedside table. When he looks back to you, he finds you already snoring softly against him.
He lets out a light chuckle. “Get some sleep babe, I’ll be right here when you wake up, ready to take care of you.”
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