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#he deserves nothing but I’d give him he world
goodnightmemes · 3 days
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DUNE: PART TWO (2024) SENTENCE STARTERS
❛ This world is beyond cruelty. ❜
❛ Never stand with your back towards the open. How many times do I have to tell you that, huh? ❜
❛ Don’t worry. I’m taking you somewhere they will never find us. ❜
❛ You fought well… once you woke up. ❜
❛ He thinks you’re spies. ❜
❛ Your faith is playing tricks on you. ❜
❛ I’m ready to pledge my life for him. ❜
❛ Your father didn’t believe in revenge. ❜
❛ Don’t mock him. He deserves our respect. He’s a good fighter. ❜
❛ Never give your water away, not even for the dead. ❜
❛ It’s an honor, isn’t it? I think you should feel honored. ❜
❛ Well, it was a choice between this or death, so, you know, forgive me if I’m not flattered. ❜
❛ You want to control people, you tell them a messiah will come. Then they’ll wait for centuries. ❜
❛ That was no miracle! ❜
❛ I’m not here to lead. I’m here to learn your ways. Let me fight beside you. That’s all I’m asking. ❜
❛ You will see! The beauty and the horror! ❜
❛ Oh! Don’t ever, ever listen to the jinn. ❜
❛ He’s not like the other strangers. He’s sincere. ❜
❛ You know, I’m the only one who believes you’re gonna make it until summer? Everyone else thinks you won’t make it two weeks. ❜
❛ What? Stop looking at me like that. ❜
❛ We must convert the non-believers one by one. We need to start with the weaker ones. The vulnerable ones. The ones who fear us. ❜
❛ Who taught you to fight like that? ❜
❛ We can stop them together, bury them in the sand where they belong. ❜
❛ Then I’ll die, maybe you will too. But the others will keep going. And they won’t stop. ❜
❛ Where you’re from, does water really fall from the sky? ❜
❛ Your blood comes from Dukes and Great Houses. We don’t have that here. Here, we’re equal, men and women alike. What we do, we do for the benefit of all. ❜
❛ Well, I’d very much like to be equal to you. ❜
❛ It’s been a while since you’ve had one of those nightmares. Tell me, what was it about? ❜
❛ You’ve been exposed to spice for a long time. It can create weird dreams. ❜
❛ Don’t try to impress anyone. You are brave. We all know that. Be simple. Be direct. Nothing fancy. ❜
❛ I won’t shame you. I understand. ❜
❛ The way they look at you. They worship you now. ❜
❛ I’m no messiah. ❜
❛ She says you’re blinded by love, and she reminds you that you must reserve your hand for the most strategic alliance. ❜
❛ Do you not think I also feel the weight of the prophecy? ❜
❛ They deserve to be led by one of their own. ❜
❛ Repression only makes a religion flourish. ❜
❛ You underestimate the power of faith. ❜
❛ Prophets get stronger when they die. ❜
❛ You’d be a formidable empress. ❜
❛ Then what hope is there? ❜
❛ Hope? We don’t hope, we plan. ❜
❛ The question is, can we control him? And I intend to find out. ❜
❛ I won’t die like a fool. Kill me now. ❜
❛ No fear. These fights are all for show. ❜
❛ Show me who you are. ❜
❛ This morning you were a playboy, feared and envied, but tonight you’re a hero. ❜
❛ You’re following me. ❜
❛ You’re not allowed in this section. How did you get past the guards? ❜
❛ I remember now. I dreamed about you last night. ❜
❛ Come to me. Kneel. ❜
❛ I recognized your footsteps, old man. ❜
❛ When our resources are limited…fear is all we have. ❜
❛ Well, what are you waiting for? With thousands of these guys, you could take control of the entire planet. ❜
❛ They used to be friends. Now they’re followers. ❜
❛ You have the power to avenge your father, and you’re afraid to use it? ❜
❛ I can foresee things. If I go South, all my visions lead to horror. ❜
❛ Billions of corpses scattered across the galaxy. All dying because of me. ❜
❛ No need to be a prophet to see what’s ahead. ❜
❛ Your path leads to war. You know that. ❜
❛ So, war is coming. What will you do when you feel its breath upon your neck? ❜
❛ He who can destroy a thing has the real control of it. ❜
❛ You promised me you didn’t want power. ❜
❛ No matter what I do, you still don’t trust me. ❜
❛ My allegiance is to you. I’m doing this for all of us. Do you believe me? ❜
❛ It’s right under everybody’s noses. Not clever. ❜
❛ That’s the idea. Nobody would ever look in there because it’s obvious. ❜
❛ Nothing can live there without faith. ❜
❛ I want to go on the ground. Prepare my troops. ❜
❛ You humiliated our family. You humiliated me. ❜
❛ Embarrass our family one more time… it will be the last. ❜
❛ It is a good time to cross blades with me. I am weak. I am an easy kill. ❜
❛ I don’t care what you believe. I believe. ❜
❛ I’ll stay behind and cover your retreat. ❜
❛ You see only fragments. You cannot see the future without seeing the past. ❜
❛ To unlock your mind, you need to drink the Water of Life… and you will see everything. ❜
❛ A good hunter always climbs the highest dune before his hunt. He needs to see… as far as he can see. ❜
❛ The world has made choices for us. ❜
❛ You will never lose me. Not as long as you stay who you are. ❜
❛ You are not prepared for what is to come. ❜
❛ You’ll now learn the truth about our family. And it will hurt you to the core. ❜
❛ His vital signs are so low, they can’t be detected. But he’s alive. ❜
❛ You might not believe in the prophecy, but you’re a part of it. ❜
❛ You’re the poison. You and your lies. Why would you do this? ❜
❛ The visions are clear now. I see possible futures. All at once. ❜
❛ Our enemies are all around us. And in so many futures, they prevail. But I do see a way. ❜
❛You can stop this. Do you hear me? You have the power to stop this.
❛ This prophecy is how they enslave us! ❜
❛ You think I’m stupid enough to deprive myself of the best of us? Do you smash a knife before battle? ❜
❛ There is no one in this room who can stand against me! ❜
❛ This could be the moment you’ve been praying for all your life. ❜
❛ But there is one way your family can remain in power and, through you, the continuation of our stewardship. One. Way. Are you prepared? ❜
❛ You’ve been preparing me my whole life. ❜
❛ Long live the fighters! ❜
❛ I swear to you, I wasn’t aware of any of this. ❜
❛ You die like an animal. ❜
❛ Look who’s back from the dead. ❜
❛ I want you to know… I will love you as long as I breathe. ❜
❛ They may be curious to hear my side of the story, don’t you think? ❜
❛ Consider what you’re about to do. ❜
❛ You’ll be lucky to keep your head. ❜
❛ I’ll take the hand of your daughter. She will remain safe. And we will rule together over the Empire. ❜
❛ Do you know why I killed him? Because he was a man who believed in the rules of the heart. But the heart is not meant to rule. ❜
❛ Stand or choose your champion. ❜
❛ Do not stain your hands on this animal. Let me deal with him. ❜
❛ Why does he take such risks? ❜
❛ Well, you wouldn’t be the first relative I’ve killed. ❜
❛ May thy knife chip and shatter. ❜
❛ You have fought well. ❜
❛ You should’ve believed. You chose the wrong side.❜
❛ You, of all people, should know. There are no sides. ❜
❛ Spare my father now and I will be your willing bride. The throne will be yours. ❜
❛ They refuse to honor your ascendancy. ❜
❛ Lead them to Paradise. ❜
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gatorgrumbles · 1 year
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I swear he gets the shit beat out of him every time he’s on screen.
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tojisun · 7 months
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simon (ghost) riley x fem reader
!! suggestive-ish; hinted age difference (20s vs 30s); hinted d/s; minors dni
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“why won’t you fuck me?”
your pitiful voice stops simon from moving, his feet stuttering with muted thuds. he breathes in sharply, not having expected the words that slipped from your lips, before he turns and tips his head towards you.
you’re trembling, and simon doesn’t know if it’s because of the cool air or the intensity of your emotions, those that urged you to whine at his pathetic display of restraint, but still he hesitates. afraid that if he comes close, then the remnant of his patience will finally snap.
because it’s not that simon wouldn’t fuck you – god knows there’s nothing more he’d want to do than love you slowly and deeply, caressing you tenderly until you are trembling at the intensity of his passion; until the doubts are finally crushed by the force of his affections – but it’s that he knew you deserve someone better.
someone who wouldn’t leave you for months and years long because of a mission. someone who’d stay by your side each and every hour because he knows you (sometimes he wished he didn’t, if only to make it easier to forget about you), and he knows that you need someone to spoil you. to pamper you.
simon knows you deserve more than the world, knows that he can only give you pieces of it but he’s selfish. he’s a monster wearing a human suit – incapable of surrendering, incapable of giving you up.
because simon knows you deserve better but gods he doesn’t want to let you go.
he moves to speak but you beat him to it, your lips wobbling as tears trickle down the corners of your eyes like molten diamonds. “you parade me around like a trophy wife but you won’t even give me a portion of that attention. you-”
his heart stops at the choked sob that gets stuck in the base of your throat, your face crumpling as you tremble at the intensity of your heartache.
it was instant how he moved to you, his frantic steps echoing against the cobblestone. he takes you in his arms, tucking your head underneath his chin and engulfing you in his embrace, hoping that you’d hear the staccato of his heart and know that it only ever beats for you.
you whine like you couldn’t decide if you want his comfort or not and simon freezes, afraid that he’s just heightened your bleeding heart. he moves to step away, his lips parting for an apology, but you clutch at the ends of his shirt, refusing to let go.
he follows your silent command – simon will follow you no matter where, no matter what – and presses you close again, his warmth mixing with yours and chasing away the goosebumps that littered your skin.
he kisses the top of your head, breathing you in. simon mulls over what to say, his own hesitation bursting at the corners of his mind, but he wants to stop pretending. he wants to stop lying to himself.
you love him and he loves you – sometimes, it could be that easy.
words aren’t his strongest suits but he tries anyway. “i love you,” he begins, the words slipping past his teeth with the simplicity of the truth. “i burn with the desire to be with you, sweet girl. but not this way. not yet.”
you tip your head up just enough to catch his gaze and simon croons at your swollen eyes, pressing gentle kisses on your eyebrows in comfort.
“why not?” you ask, ever so stubborn.
“because there are preparations that need to be done,” he replies, humming when your eyes widen in surprise. “i want to make love with you, sweetheart. not just make it as something fast and temporary.”
he watches you breathe in shakily.
“would you want that?” simon continues amidst your silence, his hand coming up to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.
you bite your bottom lip and nod. he clicks his tongue. “use y’r words. i need to hear it from you.”
“yes please,” you whisper, and simon coos at the broken rumble of your voice, still heavy with doubt. “i- yes. please, simon. i’d love that.”
“me too, sweet girl.” simon kisses your forehead, sealing the promise. “i’d love nothing more.”
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wanders-in-wonderland · 2 months
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Fuck Me Like You Hate Me
“That’s right. Cry, you fucking whore. That’s what I want to see,” his voice is guttural and unforgiving as he drives the vibrator harder against my clit.
I stare up at him, eyes glassy and mind dazed as he forces unrelenting pleasure over my body. It’s been hours and countless orgasms since he’d tied me down and pressed the vibrator to me. I didn’t even realize I was crying until he mentioned it. I’m too far gone to even protest or struggle.
I feel another orgasm start to build and a high, keening whine breaks free from me as the pain-tinged pleasure makes more tears fall from my eyes. “Good fucking whore, give me another one,” he smirks at me, sliding two fingers into my sopping cunt and curling them just right.
I tremble as the orgasm washes over me, my pussy clenching desperately around his fingers and my clit burning with painful overstimulation.
“You deserve this, don’t you? This is what you get for being a worthless whore who’s only good for cumming, isn’t that right?” He mocks me as his fingers continue to slam into me, the sound of my dripping, brutalized pussy barely audible over the sound of the vibrator.
I’m wordless at this point, I’d given up begging several orgasms ago when it became clear that he didn’t care about my sensitivity. My eyes are unseeing as he continues to work my body into a broken shell.
“You’re nothing more than a worthless whore, cumming your brains out for me. Not a single thought left in that pretty head of yours. Come on, whore, I want to see you break,” he clicks up the vibrator, pulling his fingers out of my cunt to pull back my clit hood to force the torturous stimulation to ravage my clit with no mercy.
My eyes roll up into my head as my next orgasm slams into me, my pussy squirting my release all over the bed beneath us. The stimulation doesn’t stop and he laughs cruelly as he watches my body and mind struggle to cope with the pleasure he’s putting me through.
I can’t get enough air into my lungs as the vibrator continues to decimate the most sensitive part of my body. His fingers keep me splayed open, leaving my clit with no protection from the bulb of the vibrator.
“We’re not stopping until you pass out today. And maybe even then, I’ll keep pulling orgasm after orgasm out from your worthless little body just so you know who you belong to,” his eyes are alight with a maniacal gleam as he continues to force the horrible pleasure onto me.
Before my last orgasm fully faded, another rose up inside of me, the feeling overwhelming every single sense and rushing at me. I feel every muscle tense and the pleasure rips through me, so hard I can feel it in my bones.
It broke me as the world around me faded to black, my mind cracking under the assault of pleasure and pain.
I wake up to the feeling of a warm towel pressed against my sensitive core. I whimper softly, shifting slightly, registering that I’m unbound now. His shushes me softly as I peer up at him with bleary eyes. “I’ve got you, sweetie, it’s okay,” his voice is soft and reassuring as he finishes wiping me down and kisses the top of my head. I smile up at him and watch as he sets the towel down before crawling into bed with me, pulling me close and surrounding me with his scent and warmth. I close my eyes and feel myself drift away, safe and sound.
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Quarterfinals, Match 2
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expand to see all propaganda received! (wall of text warning oh my god this is a severe cautionary message)
Lauryn Hill:
"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"
"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."
"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."
"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"
Damon Albarn:
"Don’t think Damon should be here? Why don’t you get your head checked by a jumbo jet? Maybe you’ll feel heavy metal and calm down."
"If Damon is in the “some guy” category, he’s the heavenly and heartbreaking version. Damon is the sort of significant stranger I’d see on the train out of Colchester but could never speak to, just a face seen in passing yet too radiant to be real. I’d fall in love for an hour and carry the ache for a month."
"Damon sets the standard for me. I think he’s the most fascinating man alive. What I find attractive in Damon is not just his gorgeous bone structure and boyish charm, but how wholly he’s committed himself to music. Damon is an artist who walked the walk: in one of his roughest years with some of his rawest songwriting, he said he was no longer excited by anything except the creative process. He was disillusioned with the celebrity of it all, with his relationships suffering for it, and only wanted to make art: nothing more, nothing less. He would go on to compose film scores, write operas and stage musicals, produce other artists’ records, form collectives to fulfill his passion for world music, and create some of the most globally successful music of his career in a completely innovative format that placed him as the phantom behind the characters. Whenever one band takes a break, he makes a solo record or puts together a supergroup to stay busy. He’s uniquely collaborative and still writes personal letters inviting artists to record with him, and yet can function as a one-man show, acting as a multi-instrumentalist, a singer-songwriter and a producer. He’s been a constant voice of bringing British music to the world *and* bringing world music into Britain. Sure, he’s won Brit Awards and a Grammy among others, but he also has a Guinness World Record and was named an Officer of the British Empire for his services to music; his long work with Africa Express earned him respect even from peers who’d previously dismissed him, and his commitment to support his Malian collaborators in the face of violence earned him the title of Local King in Mali. There is so much talent in the world, but there is truly no one else with a career that looks like Damon Albarn’s. Damon is far more than just a prettyboy to look nice on a magazine cover, but looks are the ultimate point of this tournament, so make no mistake: he was terribly, terribly pretty. You watch him performing in the 90s, you sift through photoshoots and interviews and documentaries, and it feels *cruel* how beautiful he was. If his talent was god-given, so was his face. To put a bow on this thesis: I don’t know if Gorillaz and Damon’s musical universe would be the experimental, globe-trotting, boundary-pushing community affair it is if Blur hadn’t become such a central figure in Britpop and if Damon had not been made such a media spectacle, and I don’t know if Damon would have been that spectacle if he wasn’t so ungodly pretty. The domino effect is that Damon’s cherubic face launched a thousand multimedia art school projects for decades to come."
"I wish I was basically any bloke in the 90s so I could tongue Damon Albarn down. Damon will see a man and ask “is anyone gonna kiss that?” and not wait for a response."
"I have a pillow with his face on it. I sleep with it every night 😊"
"“I’m more homosexual than Brett Anderson, always have been. As far as bisexuality goes, I’ve had a taste of that particular fruit, or have been tasted you might say…” is just the rawest most Shakespearean statement ever"
"he is the ultimate Pretty Boy ™. his glorious golden locks, his electric blue eyes. he is if Princess Diana was a Britpop Dude. he is the Regina George of Britpop. he is if Aphrodite took male form. Zeus would come down to earth to fuck him if he knew. he is a caffeinated orange cat let loose. he is deranged. he is unhinged. you never know what will come out of his mouth. he had sexual tension with every single man who knew him. he pulled justine fucking frischmann. his aura knows no bounds. he is a siren. he is a weird guy. but being so gorgeous stunning ethereal didn't stop him from also being one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation"
"THE MAIN BLUR"
"literally where do i even begin. i could write entire essays on this man. a good place to start would be the beetlebum music video, i suppose. i'll never forget the first time i watched that music video. something in me changed, my brain chemistry was altered, my life was never the same, i view the world a lot differently now. and a lot of the viewing i'm doing is of pictures of damon albarn's face because of boy do i have a lot of those saved. every time i try to look for a photo of something on my phone i can't find it because there's so much damon. okay that's maybe an exaggeration but this man has the most unfathomable beauty ever. his eyes? HIS EYES. god dammit i love his eyes i want to stare at them until the end of time like nothing else exists. i'm so normal about this man (lying) and while i'm usually very shameless about my interests i'm actually incredibly glad this propaganda is anonymous because otherwise. yeah. but the world deserves to see damon albarn's beauty and also hear his fantastic voice because what the fuck. his voice is literally the most gorgeous sound ever produced like bro sounds like that and expects me not to fall in love? i want this man to sing his silly songs and talk absolute nonsense to me until the sun eventually blows out and the world ends. cmon damon girlies let's demolish this tournament i know there are a lot of you."
"He’s beautiful. He’s a little rat. He’s a sweetheart. He’s a dickhead. He’s a musical genius. He’s a dumb bitch. He’s a jock. He’s a weirdo. He’s real. He’s an illusion. He’s everything. He’s just Damon."
"DAMON DAMON DAMON where do I begin oh jeez I've hyperfixated on this man for a solid 4 years and still going strong. Damon makes me wish that British people are real. That says A LOT. This man created a whole ass ANIMATED BAND WITH A SHIT TON OF LORE as a SIDE HUSTLE??? Not to mention, what other man has collaborated with Stevie Nicks, MF DOOM, Del the Funky Homosapien, Snoop Dogg, AND Beck?! People, we're literally in the presence of a god. And he's STILL GOING. Anyways, TL;DR, damon is so so so neat and cool and he should definitely win this competition. Thank you."
"Okay 90s Damon is The Perfect Boy yes yes, but the people who parrot the Daily Mail and say "he's ugly now" will never understand. I would still suck every drop from him on his deathbed."
"Vote for whoever you want to. But Damon is so pretty."
"i did not spend hours admiring this beautiful man's face on pinterest just to see him lose."
"Damon Albarn just brings me joy. When I'm watching him perform, following along as the camera lingers on and adores his pretty face, I get butterflies like I'm 15 again. It's nice to still feel that totally unguarded giddiness sometimes."
"God let the intrusive thoughts win making Damon. What if he's a beautiful blond twink with eyes like saucers and dick to his knees, he reads Herman Hesse and plays footie and is insufferable about both, he'll be the most prolific musician of his generation and write operas and seminal albums in 5 different genres and also he's gonna be the dumbest bitch alive? He'll also be kinda bi, but only kinda. And send."
"when i found out about his existence, my life was changed forever. i wish i could use him like the hannah montana boot milk pillow and chuck him at the wall so he makes a loud thud"
"Think of the drama and anon fights it'll cause if Damon wins it all! And think of how quiet it'll get after Damon's out. You'll miss him when he's gone, like memories of a noisy house years after it's grown silent. Choose Damon, and keep the messy train chugging."
"Even the Gallagher brothers have the hots for him."
"Kiss kiss I love him also you can't vote for any of the Seattle men they're literally copy and paste it's not fair. We need Brit representation"
"I want to take care of him, I want to provide for him. I need to gauge his baby blue puppy dog orbs out to I can clean them with wood varnish, paint shades of Pantone 320 C in his eyes, spray eau de parfume by dior in them and sew it back into his eyes like that scene in Toy Story 2."
"Seeing as simply filling the page with ‘Damon’ written 10000000 times isn’t going to cut it 😅 may I admit/submit: I DO have him tattooed on my being (no descriptive, is this anon?); he’s inspired somewhat unhinged late night/early morning fandom conversations in which I’ve served as ‘parish’ priest hearing confessions from all manner of folk about what they’d like to do to him/receive from him; sadly I lost an essay where I detailed why the letters that make up his name suit him so well, and described him as the hot caramel sauce to Graham’s cool vanilla ice cream. He’s a faerie princess with a nose that makes people weep and a voice that feels like the warmest home and he gives amazing hugs. He loves trains and chickens and his tuxedo cat. He’s annoying and sweet and somewhat unhinged and his music saves people and all this is on top of that fantastic dick. He’s a dream yet very real and we’re fucking blessed to be on earth at the same time as him, amen"
"Damon Albarn was a beautiful, beautiful boy. The world saw that, regardless of if every individual reading this has the same taste in men; it felt like a truth of the universe at the time. They don't make celebrities that angelic in face and erratic in personality anymore."
"I need to touch his eyebrows, nose and prostate just one time JUST ONE TIME COME ON"
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lovelyjj · 5 months
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hi! I'm not sure if this is against any of ur boundaries but if it is please let me know! I know it's not technically smut but it's in somewhat of the same category, could you write aftercare from jj?
aftercare
jj maybank x fem!reader
wc: 984
warnings: slight smut
(not my gif)
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JJ was pounding into you. His cock was stretching you out. He pulled all the way out just to slam back in.
You let out a whine, because he was fucking into you and it felt so good.
“I know baby girl, I know,” JJ soothed.
JJ could tell you were getting close by the way you were squeezing him.
“Give me one more,” JJ asked.
You let out a moan while your orgasm washed over you. Your whole body felt tingly and you coated JJ’s cock in your release. JJ fucked you through your orgasm. JJ came with a jerk of his hips spilling his seed inside of you.
“Did so good for me angel,” JJ expressed.
You gave JJ a weak smile and his heart melted at the sight.
“Thank you J,” you whispered.
“No need to thank me, come on let’s get you cleaned up,”
JJ let go of your hand and went to go to the bathroom to start the bath when you let out a whine.
“Nooo J please don’t leave me” you pleaded.
“Baby I want to bring you some water and then start the bath, It should only be a second.” JJ reasoned.
You gave him your best puppy dog face and JJ wasn’t strong enough to turn you down. JJ climbed back in bed and like a magnet you cuddled up to him.
JJ rubbed your back in soothing circles as you traced patterns on his chest.
“Baby I love you but I really need to clean you up.” JJ begged.
“Ok,” you whispered.
JJ got up and went to get a wash cloth while you patiently waited on the bed. JJ came back pretty quickly since the bathroom was conjoined with the bedroom.
“Here we go angel, stay still for me.” JJ cooed.
You opened your legs and JJ wiped up the juices. You whined because you were sensitive.
“I know baby I know, almost done.”
JJ finished cleaning you up and came to lay down with you.
“Your perfect, perfect for me. I think maybe you were made for me. That maybe in every lifetime and every universe we would somehow end up together.” JJ preached.
“J, you’re so good to me. You’re so sweet, I know I’d choose you in every lifetime,” you responded.
You and JJ held each other close wrapped up in your own little world of love and comfort.
JJ was playing with your hair when he asked, “you want to take a bath my love?”
“Yeah ok.”
JJ got up and made his way to the bathroom. He turned on the hot water and grabbed a few candles. He lit them and set them around the tub. He put some nice smelling bubble bath in the water making it bubble up.
“Come on princess the bath is ready.”
You went to the bathroom and JJ greeted you by kissing your temple and telling you to get in and that he will be right back.
JJ returned with a cold water bottle and stepped in behind you.
“You need to drink please,” JJ instructed.
He held the bottle to your lips and you took it and you gulped down some water. “Thank you J.”
You sank into the hot water letting your sore muscles relax. JJ pressed kisses on the back of your shoulder. Then he began washing your body. He delicately washed and bathed you. He even washed your hair. He peppered kisses to any where he could reach.
“You take such good care of me J,” you spoke.
“You deserve nothing but the best my love,” JJ responded.
“I love you so much,” you announced.
“I love you too,” JJ replied.
Only when your fingers were wrinkled did you get out of the bath. JJ had a warm fluffy towel waiting for you to be wrapped up in it.
When you entered back into the bedroom JJ asked you if you would like a massage. You told him that you would love it.
“Just relax,” JJ soothed.
He got some lotion and smoothed his hands over your back. He worked meticulously rubbing out your sore muscles.
“Feels so good J,” you mused.
JJ hummed and continued his work on your back. You enjoyed the intimacy of the massage. You liked having his hands on you, touching you in a loving way.
JJ liked it too he liked taking care of you and making you feel good. He loved aftercare almost as much as he loved the sex if not more.
When JJ was finished with the massage he kissed your shoulder and then your head. The two of you got back into bed and snuggled up together.
JJ was scratching your scalp as you laid on his chest. The warmth of his chest heating your skin. You were relaxed and enjoying just being with JJ, your person.
“JJ?”
“Hmm” JJ hummed.
“What are you thinking about?“ you asked.
“I’m thinking about how pretty you are.”
“I don’t believe you,” you giggled.
“What? it’s true! I swear.”
“Yeah right.”
“Fine then. Don’t believe me,” JJ crossed his arms over his chest.
You laughed out loud and shoved him playfully.
You truly loved JJ and you enjoyed every second you spent with him. It’s like you were always smiling and laughing around him. You held your memories you made together close to you heart. The love you shared could be seen by everyone.
When the two of you had sex, JJ always made sure to take care of you afterwards. He never skipped aftercare. He always made sure you were alright and would dot on you and love on you and give you reassurance.
Aftercare with JJ was always lovely. He always took his time being gentle and kind. Always putting your needs before his. He was amazing and you felt like you had the best boyfriend in the world.
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leighsartworks216 · 7 months
Text
You Have A Type, Don't You?
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Based on this post
I wrote this instead of doing any of the work I need to do! I'm gonna go do that now lol
Warnings: innuendos, minor references to sex, the barest hints of jealousy
Word Count: 1,601
Masterlist
AO3
Tag List Form
Your pencil scratched across the paper, drawing Astarion over and over again on a single page. This wasn’t anything surprising; you drew all of your companions. Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, Lae’zel - they all had pages of their own, but it was usually only one drawing. Some had even posed for it. It was just a way to relax, and their faces always lit up when you showed them, even if they tried not to show it.
Everyone needed a break from fighting and exploring day in day out, so you decided one more day here wouldn’t hurt. As such, you’ve spent the better half of the day just drawing. At first it was little doodles of Scratch, but then you realized you hadn’t drawn the vampire spawn yet.
Most of the expressions you captured came from memory. You’d occasionally sneak a glance for quick reference, pretending to stretch or get distracted by some birds. But at some point, he’d disappeared from camp. You just assumed he’d gone off hunting.
That assumption was proved quite wrong when a voice tsked over your shoulder, almost directly in your ear.
Startling away from the sound, you whipped around to see Astarion crouched down. He wore a self-satisfied smirk and settled down into a full sit on the ground.
“It seems someone is infatuated,” he teased. “So who is it? Someone we saved from peril, perhaps?”
Oh. Right. It had completely slipped your mind.
You cleared your throat as your cheeks warmed and smiled. “Y-Yeah, something like that.”
He chuckled. “Come on, darling, there’s nothing to be shy about. Spare none of the juicy details. What’s he like?”
“He’s, well,” you stammer, “he’s interesting.”
He scoffed. “That’s hardly juicy or a detail. Or is he just another pretty face?” He leaned forward, trying to get a better look at your drawings. You wanted to pull them away and hide them, but why? All the others had drawings done of them, and you loved showing it off when they were done. Why was this any different?
“No, he’s a lot more than that,” you admit quietly. You weren’t good at lying - usually Astarion took the lead any time you had to - but maybe if you didn’t tell a complete lie… “He’s funny, charming. His laugh lights up my world. He’s had a rough go of it, but he doesn’t like it to show.”
“He must like you if you know,” he hummed. Your heart leapt into your throat as he pointed to the pin pricks drawn on the neck. “Is he a vampire, too?” He chuckled, but it sounded strained. “You have a type, don’t you?”
You scoffed even as warmth flooded to your cheeks. “No! I do not have a type.”
“No, of course not,” he played along. “Certainly not for creatures of the night who bite into that pretty little neck of yours.” Despite his smile, there was a tension in his eyes. “I don’t mind, dear. I’d be more than happy to scrounge around some nights so you may indulge your new lover.”
You shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Astarion,” you assured. “He’s not… We’re not together.”
“No?” You shook your head again. He opened his mouth to give you advice or console you, but you cut him off. It was better to end this fantasy now, before it began to hurt too much.
“It doesn’t matter. Besides, you shouldn’t be sneaking around so you can look over my shoulder. I could have been drawing something terrible.”
He laughed. “All the more reason to risk a peek. You’re so good, it would be nice to know you can be tempted.” Then he scowled. “Unless it’s something terribly dull. You deserve much more than missionary.”
If your cheeks weren’t already blazing hot…
“In any case, I was only wondering when you’d draw my portrait. You seemed more than happy to provide the others with a likeness. And…” He looked past you, seemingly far away. “I haven’t seen myself in two centuries. One gets curious, especially when you’re as vain as me.”
If he heard your heart start racing, he didn’t comment on it. Drawing him would make him realize it wasn’t some other vampire crush you were drawing. But, it had been a while since your adventure began, and you’d drawn everyone else. You swallowed down your anxiety. “Yeah! Of course! Did you wanna pose, or anything?”
He blinked and suddenly he was back in the present. A sly smirk covered up whatever emotions could be lingering on his face. “If your little vampire friend doesn’t get too jealous. I would actually like if you could draw me just,” he paused, “smiling. It would be nice to know what everyone else sees. Make sure I’m not off-putting, you know how it is.”
Once he was sitting comfortably, you turned to a fresh page and began drawing. The paper was hidden from his view, but he watched as your hand, wrist, and arm all moved in tandem like a clock’s gears to create an image. Your eyes moved between the sketch and him multiple times. Sometimes you’d glance up and draw for almost a minute. Then other times you kept going back and forth, constantly checking for reference.
Watching you work was fascinating. All your surroundings faded away. Karlach being her usual loud self, Wyll dancing, Gale cooking, Lae’zel sharpening weapons - nothing could turn your attention from him. He almost felt subconscious with the intensity of it. Your eyes studied him, taking in every single feature, and translated it to your journal. What did you see when you looked at him, he wondered. What did the world see? It had been so long, he couldn’t even remember his face. All he knew was he was attractive.
With a final few marks, brushed away to blend them into the rest, you looked down at your masterpiece. You were so caught up in the drawing you forgot why you were hesitant before, but now that Astarion stared at you from two different angles, your anxiety came back full force. There was no way out of this.
“All done, dear?”
You smiled shakily up at him and turned the journal around. His face scrunched up in confusion. When he met your eyes, he was decidedly unamused. “Darling, if you’re going to draw your fleeting fancy, don’t trick me first. I know it’s hard to see past the depraved bloodlust, but we don’t all look alike, you know.”
“No, Astarion, it’s not- I-”
While you fought to find words, Karlach picked up the slack. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted across the camp, “IT’S YOU, FANGS!”
Dread washed over you. You closed your eyes. If a merciful god was going to kill you and rid you of this embarrassment, now would be the time. A bolt of lightning, perhaps. You’d even welcome decapitation.
You risked a glance when you felt your book being tugged carefully from your hands. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly open as he tried to comprehend what the fuck had just happened. Gods, now he was going to leave camp. You buried your face in your hands. He was going to pack everything up and leave before the sun even touched the horizon. And you’d never see him again. Maybe you’d go find Cazador yourself, just to kill the bastard.
“All these drawings… are me? Darling?”
You inhaled deeply and lowered your hands, but you couldn’t bear looking at him. He could stab you with his dagger and you’d apologize to him for it all. Hell, you’d let him drink you dry if it meant leaving this all behind you. “You’re very pretty,” you admitted quietly. “I didn’t know how to ask, and just- You can rip the pages out, burn them, whatever makes you feel better. And if you leave, I won’t blame you or chase after you or-”
“I’m not upset.” Your head never shot up so fast. “Well, a little. You’re not subtle when you stare, you know. I thought you were just uncomfortable being around a vampire, but this…” He turned back to the portrait you’d just finished. “This is really what I look like?”
You swallowed away a small portion of the shame. At least he wasn’t running away. “As best as I can capture you, anyway. Y-You’ve got these sharp eyes, and your hair curls around your ears, and you get little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you laugh - and I just like drawing you.”
The page flipped over again. The page of expressions, capturing everything you described. When he smiled full and bright his fangs were on full display, accented by the laugh lines on either side of his mouth. And the puncture wounds on his neck…
“Ah, so when I said you had a type…” He chuckled, but it didn’t hold as much warmth as usual.
“Your laugh does light up my world,” you admit. His red eyes were on you in an instant, flickering over your whole face. “Just, for the record.”
He glanced at the drawings once more, contemplative. Then, he held the book back out to you. “I wouldn’t be… opposed to trying this. Whatever this is.”
You reached out to take it, but he pulled it away. “But, no more sneaking glances across camp when you want to draw me. I would be delighted to model for you again, in any pose your sweet heart can concoct.” He held the book out again. “Deal?”
You grabbed onto the book, finally relaxing as you smiled. “Deal.”
---
Tag List:
@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @mjmygd @flsalazar @thedevilssinner @marina-and-the-memes @softempest @rebeccasship @pinkishredlemonade @faeoran
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joelalorian · 18 days
Text
Fall Into Me - Chapter Six: And I Knew My Heart Wasn't Mine
dbf!Joel x f!reader
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Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.
Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.
Word Count: 3.8k
Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling in love. Finally some smut-ish stuff. Dry humping on the couch. Joel is his own warning. Tommy keeping it real. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad.
Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics
Some of the tags aren't working in the taglist - if you're not getting the notifications, please check your settings to make sure you are taggable. Thx!
Chapter Five | Main Masterlist
Sitting at the kitchen table on Sunday morning, you reviewed an email on your phone from the Texas Education Agency. Relief washed over you. The State Board finally approved your certification after jumping through a million hoops, just in time for your upcoming meeting at Sarah’s school.
Yet another step closer to finally feeling like an actual adult contributing to society.
“Morning, Spud,” your dad greeted as he walked into the kitchen in search of his morning coffee. “You’re up early. Did you have fun with Sarah yesterday?”
“I figured I’d seize the day and all that. I had a blast yesterday! Sarah is so smart, and Joel was really nice, as always,” you replied, playing down quite how much of a roll Joel had in making the day so enjoyable. You still couldn’t believe how things worked out.
Joel Miller, dead sexy single father, liked you, wanted to be with you. Little morsels of doubt tried to weasel their way into your mind, trying to make you question what was so special about you that a man like Joel would be interested in. You shook those thoughts away, resolving to believe that you deserved someone like him, someone who liked you for who you were and not who they wanted you to be.
“He comes from good stock, that Joel,” your dad interrupted you’re wandering thoughts. “Not sure what happened with Tommy, though. Musta been dropped on his head as a baby or somethin’.”
“Dad!” you laughed, shaking your head. “There’s nothing wrong with the guy. He’s young, single, and unburdened by responsibility. I imagine you were like that once upon a time.”
“Musta been so long ago I can’t remember,” he replied, hip checking you into the counter when you stood to place your glass in the sink. “Watch yourself there, Spud.”
“Jeez, thanks, Dad,” you replied with an amused eye roll. Your dad watched as you tidied up your little mess from breakfast and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
“You know, Spud. You’d do well to find a man like Joel. He’s a really good guy. Shame he doesn’t date. All the women go crazy over him.”
Your dad kept going on about Joel’s aversion to dating, but your mind froze on that one simple statement – you’d do well to find a man like Joel. You tuned back in just in time to hear him say, “He needs to settle down with a girl like you. Someone smart and responsible who’ll still give him a run for his money.”
Practically bursting with the urge to admit that you and Joel just officially started seeing each other, you curled your lips between your teeth and just nodded. You promised Joel you’d wait a bit before mentioning anything to your dad and you planned on keeping that promise. “He should be so lucky to find someone like me,” you sassed finally.
The day carried on as you spent some quality time with your dad watching TV and lounging around. It was refreshing and relaxing, reminding you of times past where the two of you spent a bunch of time together.
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The urge to text you plagued Joel all day Sunday, distracting his attention from the football game until Tommy finally snatched the phone out of his hands and hid it.
“Enough, brother. You’re like a lovesick fool checking your phone every five fuckin’ seconds. You just spent the day together yesterday. Give her a little breathin’ room,” Tommy chastised. “Women like a little mystery after all.”
Flopping back into the couch cushions with a huff, Joel crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t want to play games with her, Tommy. None of that aloof, hard to get bullshit.”
Shaking his head, Tommy waited until a commercial break to turn to his brother again. “I’m not sayin’ to play games. I’m just sayin’ you don’t need to be up her ass 24/7. You’ll see her every day this week. It’s ok to build up a little healthy anticipation today.”
Joel knew his brother had a point. He just couldn’t help himself. It’d been so long since he felt like this about someone – if he ever really did before – and it was messing with his head. Berating himself for not even kissing you yesterday, Joel wanted to at least text with you today. It felt somehow wrong to not talk to you.
Then again, you hadn’t texted him either.
Tommy made a valiant effort to distract Joel from his thoughts, talking statistics about the game and the players, anything to get the guy talking. It only worked for so long before Tommy couldn’t take it anymore.
“Alright, how ‘bout this. I’ll take Sarah for a dinner and ice cream date tomorrow so you two can spend some time alone. Get a little action in and maybe that’ll help you get your head out of the clouds.”
For the first time in hours, Joel’s face lit up. “You sure?”
“I wouldn’t offer otherwise,” Tommy replied. “You two need to figure out if there’s something there and you can’t do that with a ten-year-old hanging around all the time. Not unless you want to scar her for life.”
Joel nodded, reaching out to take his phone back. Before letting go of it, Tommy grinned. “I already texted her for you. You’re welcome.”
Ripping his phone out of his brother’s hand, Joel scrolled through his text messages to find what Tommy sent you.
JM: Hey sweetheart. Netflix and chill tomorrow?
He only knew what that meant because of Tommy and you had to know that wasn’t something Joel would say. “Jesus fucking Christ, Tommy!” Joel growled, his ears turning red from what you must think. He was about to really lay into his brother for overstepping when you responded.
You: Netflix and chill, huh? Sounds like my kinda date 😉
Not expecting that response, Joel chuckled. Maybe Tommy knew exactly what he was doing after all.
“Like I said, you’re welcome,” Tommy teased when he saw the goofy smile on his brother’s face.
Joel ignored him, proceeding to ask you about your day. The two of you texted back and forth well into the night until it was time for bed.
Climbing between the cold sheets of his large, empty bed, Joel wished you were there with him. He could already imagine you there, falling asleep together after a romp or two, waking up next to you in the morning. It sounded like heaven to him.
Hmm, maybe he could Netflix and chill his way to convincing you to spend the night tomorrow.
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You didn’t know what to expect when you walked into Joel’s house Monday morning, but it certainly wasn’t a flustered Joel, knelt on the floor, staring down at a mess of pancake mix surrounding him and Sarah giggling her little heart out at the breakfast table.
“What happened here?” you asked, hands on your hips and eyes surveying the damage. “Did you have a fight with the boxed pancake mix.”
“He really did!” Sarah exclaimed, still laughing. “It went everywhere!”
“I see that,” you replied, grinning at her before turning back to Joel.
He stared up at you with wide, sad eyes and shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t get it open and then it just…” His arms spread wide, gesturing at the powdery mess on the tile in such an endearing way. You couldn’t stop your smile from growing wider.
“Go finish getting ready for work. I’ll get Sarah some cereal and clean this mess up,” you directed, gently pulling him to his feet and around the mess.
“You shouldn’t have to clean up my mess, sweetheart,” Joel replied, pulling you in for a hug. You could tell the warm press of your bodies together made him feel better and you basked in it as well, not minding the bit of pancake mix that transferred to your clothes.
“Don’t worry, I got it. Now git!” One hand swatted at his ass playfully as he rushed out of the room. “Now, what kind of cereal do you want, nugget?”
Fifteen minutes later, Joel returned to find the mess gone and you running a mop over the tile to wipe away any last remnants of the pancake mix disaster. Sarah already finished her cereal and was upstairs brushing her teeth before it was time to head to school. When you put the mop back into the bucket, Joel crept up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you close until your back was flush against his chest.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he breathed in your ear, sending a flood of goosebumps down your arms. Joel pressed his lips to the spot just below your ear and left a trail of kisses down your neck. The feel of his lips on your skin exceeded any expectations you had, and a contented sigh left your own lips.
With a hurried tenderness, he spun you around in his arms, the mop forgotten as it nearly fell out of the bucket. Faces close together now, your eyes drank in every detail of him from the richness of his dark brown eyes, the curve of his nose, the purposeful stubble of his beard, and, finally, to the fullness of his bottom lip. You could feel his eyes doing the same, drinking in every bit of your face before tilting his head impossibly closer.
“I’m going to kiss you now, ok?” Joel murmured; lips nearly pressed to yours already and you hummed in approval.
After all the weeks of mutual pining and self-doubt, Joel finally kissed you. It started as a soft press of lips and quickly morphed into an overwhelming need to devour each other when his tongue teased along the seam of your lips, begging entry to deepen the kiss. Teeth knocked together and tongues tangled as you tasted each other – somehow, the taste of coffee was suddenly appealing when it came from Joel’s mouth.
Hands wandered – his over your curves and yours into his luscious, dark curls. Joel’s hair felt as silky as it looked, and you had been itching to get your fingers in it from the moment you met him.
The sound of Sarah’s footsteps bouncing down the stairs broke the two of you apart, breathless, and dazed.
“Wow,” Joel murmured, struggling to remove his hands from your waist.
You smiled up at him, equally unwilling to remove your fingers from his hair. “Exactly,” you whispered, stepping back with your hands at your side just as Sarah entered the kitchen.
“I’m ready!” she declared excitedly and you both grinned at her cuteness.
“Okay, nugget. Let’s head out.”
Heart melting in your chest, you watched Joel and Sarah do their morning routine of saying goodbye. The love between the two of them was so strong it was like a tangible thing you could hold in your hands. Nostalgia washed over you as memories of your own childhood, moments like this with your dad, flooded your mind. What you had with your dad, what Joel and Sarah had together, was a connection that would never fade, only grow stronger with time.
Briefly, you wondered if your evolving relationship with Joel would affect that connection, interfere with it in anyway. You couldn’t move forward with him if that was the case. Some woman showing up and changing the dynamic between you and your dad would have upset you as a child and you refused to be the cause of any upset Sarah felt.
When the two of them stepped back from their hug and grinned at you, any question about your place in their dynamic washed down the drain. You felt nearly dizzy with relief when Sarah quickly said, “Give her a hug, too, Daddy,” and shoved him as hard as she could in your direction.
With a chuckle, Joel gave in to Sarah’s demand, wrapping his arms around you. The broadness of him surrounded you, enveloping you in warmth and a sense of security you’d not experienced before. Was that what love felt like?
“Have a good day, darlin’. I’ll see you later,” Joel’s deep voice was but a whisper in your ear, his lips just grazing your earlobe. “I’m looking forward to tonight.”
Warmth raced up your neck to your cheeks and you squeezed your thighs together in anticipation of what you hoped would happen later. “You have a good day too, Joel. Be careful, ok?”
“Always, darlin’.” He winked as you led Sarah out the front door to your car.
The journey to Sarah’s school started off quietly, Sarah bopping along to the music on the radio as you navigated the morning traffic. Your thoughts wandered to what you should wear later when Sarah startled you with a sudden question.
“Are you my dad’s girlfriend now?”
She asked the question so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure how to respond. Would she be upset with whatever answer you gave? Was there even a right or wrong answer? What did she want to hear? Mind racing, you settled on asking Sarah a question in return.
“Would you be upset if I was?”
Tilting her head side to side a few times, the little girl contemplated her answer while you held your breath. She turned to you with a smile so big it scrunched up her nose. “Nope! It’d make me really happy.”
“Really?” Your eyebrows were nearly at your hairline.
“Uh huh. You’re the coolest and prettiest. My dad would be lucky if you were his girlfriend,” Sarah admitted with all the confidence and knowledge of a ten-year-old. Another head tilt and she added, “So, are you?”
Equal parts amazed and grateful for Sarah’s acceptance of the idea, you opted for honesty. “I mean, I don’t know,” you shrugged. How could you explain what you had to a 10-year-old? “We haven’t talked about naming it yet, but we did decide to see how we like being together. Does that make sense?”
Sarah gave it a moment of thought. “Yeah, I think so. It’s kinda like how you’re a teacher, but not officially until you get the job, right?”
You laughed at the comparison with a nod. “Exactly. I’m as good as your dad’s girlfriend, we just haven’t made titles official yet.” You pulled up in front of the school and it was Sarah’s turn to get out. “Now get going, nugget. Have a good day!”
The little girl bounced out of the car, calling out to one of her friends. Just before you pulled away, you heard Sarah tell the other girl that you were her dad’s not-yet girlfriend.
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The day absolutely dragged. Joel could swear that time went backwards every time he looked at a clock. It didn’t help that every single subcontractor gave him a hard time about something today.
The roof trusses arrived six weeks early and the sub refused to take them back even though the damn things would rot before they got to the roofing phase of construction. The company he rented the extra backhoe from wanted to raise their rates in the middle of his contract. The list went on and Joel ran out of patience three hours ago.
The only thing holding him together was the thought of you. Spending time with you. Kissing you. Touching you. Burying himself inside you… He adjusted himself with a sigh. Damn, he needed to put those particular thoughts on ice before he got himself riled up. The workday was shitty enough, he didn’t need the guys giving him a hard time about an untimely chub in his pants.
Finally, Joel had enough of everyone’s bullshit and called it a day, leaving his foreman in charge of the worksite.
“Off to doll yourself up, are ya?” Tommy teased as Joel headed for his truck. Gesturing in the general direction of Joel’s crotch, he added, “You remember how to use that thing? Make sure to clear out the cobwebs and use protection!”
“Jesus, Tommy,” Joel grumbled, climbing into his truck, and driving off. He knew his brother was only teasing, but Joel was nervous enough as it was. He didn’t need Tommy getting in his head. He did have a point about protection, though.
A quick stop at the convenience store to grab a box of condoms, Joel made it home before you and Sarah. Putting on some 90s rock, he jumped in the shower, putting in the extra effort to tidy himself up down there. He wondered if you preferred pubic hair or not. Fearing he was getting way ahead of himself, Joel opted to just trim his down and hoped for the best.
By the time he finished trimming his facial hair and tousling his curls, you and Sarah were downstairs, working on her homework. As he walked down the stairs, Joel could hear you encouraging his daughter to think the questions through and congratulating her when she got the answers right. His heart grew three sizes watching how you were with Sarah. You held his whole world in the palm of your hand and treasured it like the precious cargo it was.
Joel was falling so hard for you. You were quickly gaining the power to destroy him.
“Hi Daddy!” Sarah called out when she spotted him in the doorway. “We just finished my math homework. Can I play in the backyard?”
He set up a tire swing on the large live oak out back a week ago and it quickly became his little girl’s happy place. “Of course, nugget. Come give your old man a hug first.” Bending down, Joel swept Sarah up in his arms, biceps stretching his shirt sleeves as he swung her around in a circle. Sarah’s laughter echoed through the room, and you smiled sweetly at the pair of them.
“Uncle Tommy’s coming to take you out for dinner and ice cream in a bit. Ok?” Sarah nodded when he settled her back on her feet and raced for the sliding door. Once she was out of sight and earshot, Joel turned to you. “Come ‘ere, darlin’,” he said, voice deep and velvety.
Your body followed his command without conscious thought, so great the need to be in his arms. “I thought about you all day,” you admitted, staring up at him with wide eyes.
“Me, too. Could hardly focus on the job thinking about you and spending this evening together.” He tightened his arms around you, head bending to seal his lips to yours. When your lips parted at his prompting, Joel teased your plush bottom lip with his teeth. “It’s like a tasty little gummy worm,” he teased. “I could nibble on it all day.”
You moaned into his mouth, the little breathless sound music to his ears.
The kiss deepened until you were licking into each other’s mouths, hands wandering and grasping for purchase on any piece of real estate you could reach. Neither of you heard the front door open or the footsteps approaching the kitchen.
“Am I interrupting somethin’?” he asked cheekily as the two of you sprang apart, disheveled and gasping for breath.
Joel ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself. “Excellent timing as always, brother.”
“Y’all just couldn’t wait five more minutes, could ya?” Tommy’s grin a mile wide as he teased. “Lemme get the nugget out of here before you two scar her for life.”
You tucked your face into Joel’s shoulder bashfully when Tommy slipped through the sliding door. Joel groaned and wrapped his arms around you. “Don’t mind him, darlin’. He just likes to bust my balls.”
Ten minutes later, after some hugs from Sarah and more teasing from Tommy, you and Joel were alone. Taking your hand, he led you to the couch. He hoped you didn’t notice that his rough palms were sweaty with nerves. You were abnormally quiet, and he wondered if you were nervous as well.
Seated a few inches apart, the tension became too much. “What are you in the mood for?” Joel asked, breaking the silence as he pulled up Netflix on the TV. He barely logged into his account when you suddenly straddled his lap.
“Hi,” you said when he stared at you in surprise. “You know what I’m in the mood for?”
“What?” He barely got his mouth to form the word, his brain short circuiting with you in his lap. His grip on the remote loosened, yet neither of you cared when it fell to the ground.
“You.”
There was a moment where you both froze, each waiting for the other to act first. Then the tension snapped, and Joel’s lips crashed against yours. His tongue danced along the seam of your lips until you opened them to let him in. Tongues tangled in a never-ending dance as your hips tilted, grinding down on him. Joel was uncomfortably hard in moments, pressing up against your warmth.
His hands were everywhere, fingers tenderly tracing the structure of your cheekbones, down the curve of your neck, along the swell of your breasts. They finally settled, grabbing handfuls of your ass to pull you impossibly closer. You moaned into his mouth, hips bucking in search of more friction.
Gasping for breath, Joel tore his mouth from yours, his hands urging your hips into a rhythm as you dry humped him. His mouth left a trail of scorching kisses down your neck, eliciting a wave of goosebumps to flow down your arms. Your hips rocked, gliding across his hardened length and Joel swore he could feel your wetness breaching through the layer of clothes separating you.
Fuck, how he wanted to taste you, get high on your sweet nectar. He knew, just knew in that primal way, that yours would be the best pussy he ever tasted. His cock swelled impossibly harder at the mere thought of burying his face between your legs.
“Jooooeeelllll.” His name coming from your luscious lips in a drawn-out moan caused his own hips to buck up into you, hitting just the right spot to make you both see stars from the friction alone. His mouth sucked little marks into your neck, leaving his left ear exposed to your mouth as crooned, “I’m gonna come, fuck. You’re gonna make me come in my panties, Joel.”
“Fuck, darlin’. Come all over me, pretty girl. I want to see you fall apart from grinding on me like this. Drench those panties.” Joel sat back a little, just enough to watch your face as your orgasm swept over you. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, eyes rolled back in your head, mouth hanging open in a silent ‘o’ as you trembled above him, delicate hands clenching the meat of his shoulders for balance. A little sheen of sweat dusted your hairline. Fucking beautiful.
Joel was absolutely certain he could feel you drenching his pants as you came, your breath finally coming back in a sharp exhale. He had never been so turned on in his life. Watching you come apart for him, feeling it seep through the layers of clothing became too much. For the first time in his adult life, Joel Miller came in his pants with a desperate whimper.
tbc
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shadowandlightt · 3 months
Text
Of Nightmares and Memories | nine | Azirel X reader
Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight
A/N; *to the tune of Britney Spears* OOps I DID IT AGAIN. Also I'm more nervous about this part than I have been for this entire series, so be nice and kind and I hope you enjoy <3
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Mor showed up a few days later. She appeared as you were lounging in a chair, attempting to read some random romance novel you’d come across. 
“He’s taking her to The Weaver,” She stated in lue of a greeting. 
“Well then he’s a fool,” You snorted, not looking up from your book. 
“YN,” She warns, “He’s taking her to The Weaver.” 
“Yes I heard you,” you roll your eyes and look up, “What difference does it-” 
You stop upon seeing the look on her face. The worry and the pain hidden there. You swallow the lump in your throat at the sight. She looked at you like you would break at any moment, and maybe you would. Maybe she saw the truth in you. 
“They’re mates, aren’t they?” You question, voice sounding strange. 
She only nods and moves to sit on the couch across from you. You nod slowly in understanding. You wanted to be happy for them, but somehow you couldn’t feel it. Like there was something wrong with you. Like you were broken. 
“I had a feeling,” You tell her, “From the moment she became Fae and he came for her the first time. I had a feeling.”
It was true, you did have a feeling. Something deep within you told you that they were drawn to one another in ways that neither of them could explain. You often wondered if that was the same with Azirel too. If you were secretly mates, you used to pray for it as a child. Because you couldn’t imagine a better mate than him 
To this day you still couldn’t imagine a better mate. But how could he want you now? Mate or not. You’d never have the same relationship that you had before. Nothing would be the same. How could you pretend to be the same person you were when you were taken when everything around you was different? You weren’t sure how you were going to do any of this. 
“Please come home,” Mor begged. 
“I can’t,” You try to keep your voice from breaking, “I can’t go back there.” 
“Why?” She demands, standing from the couch, “Why are you denying yourself this? It’s Valaris! Your favorite place in all the world! You hate being here, you always have.” 
“Maybe I deserve to be here,” You mumble, “Maybe I deserve to be away from all of you.”
“What are you talking about?” She questions. 
“I didn’t try to run when I could have. I gave up. I fucking gave up and accepted my fate there,” You explain, slamming your book shut, “I let myself become Tamlin’s little play thing, I allowed him to strip my powers away. I let him do everything to me and I never fought back.” 
“You never deserved what happened to you,” She shook her head, “I’m not so sure that I wouldn’t have given up either, if I’d been in your shoes.” 
“I spent fifty years thinking all of you were dead.”
“Oh, Y/N.”
“I really did give up then. Because I realized Rhys wouldn’t be able to come for me. Up until that point, up until she took him, I was convinced he would come save me. That all of you would somehow find out I was still alive and come marching into the Spring Court and raze it to the ground.” 
You shake your head, trying to clear the thoughts that were swirling about. Your back ached along the two big scars. Everything about you just hurt. Your skin, your head, your chest, your heart…everything. You just wanted it to stop. You needed it to stop. 
Mor sat back down and reached over to take your hands in hers. There was nothing but love in her eyes, no sign of the pain that you saw when she first arrived. You want to pull away from her, pull away from the tender touch that reminded you too much of your mother. 
“You survived,” She swore, looking deeply into your eyes, “You made it out. You were brave and cunning and you survived. That’s all that matters now.” 
Your head shakes again, “No, it’s not all that matters. You can’t understand, none of you can.”
“Then help me understand,” She begs, “Help me understand what’s going on. Help me help you.” 
“You can’t help me, Morrigan,” You said, standing up and ripping your hands away from hers. 
You walked to one of the large widows, wondering how bad it would be if you flung yourself from the Palace. How much would it hurt when you crashed into the mountain below? Would it be enough to bring you the release you so desperately craved? Would Mor be able to stop you in time? 
You thought long and hard about it, but in the end you turned away from the window. Hating yourself for even thinking such a thing. It would destroy Rhys to get you back only to lose you again. You couldn’t do that to him. That was the only thing stopping you. 
“Azriel knows we’re hiding something,” She says from her spot on the couch, “I’m not sure how much longer we can hold him off.” 
You nearly cringe at the sound of his name. Cauldron, what is he going to do when he finds out about you? How will he react? Will he even want to be in the same room as you? Will he be able to stand to look at you after everything you’ve done? 
“I don’t care,” You lied, “I don’t give a fuck if he thinks you’re hiding something. You don’t tell him about me.”
“Yes I know, Rhys’ order was very clear,” She rolls her eyes. 
“You should go,” You tell her, “Before they wonder where you are.”
She sighs and gets up from the couch. You can tell she wants to say something else but decides against it. You watch as she disappears into darkness. You finally felt that you were able to breathe once she left. 
You fell deeper and deeper into the darkness as the days went on. The feeling in your chest only got worse with time. You wondered what would happen if you went down to The Hewen City. What would they do if their princess suddenly reappeared after so many years. 
You wondered if they’d kill you, just to spite Rhys. Or if they’d bow down to you like they used to. But then you remembered one of the last conversations you had with Azriel, and how he hated the way so many of the males talked about you and you felt sick. 
Everything surrounding Az seemed to make you feel that way these days. You could feel it deep in your chest, the sort of ache you always seemed to feel whenever you were away from him. After all of these years it still hadn’t subsided. In fact it seemed to be getting worse as each day passed by. Like being back in the Night Court and being so close to him was making it worse. Or maybe it was the fact that the Faebane was finally starting to wear off and your powers were coming back. 
No matter the reason, you weren’t sure that you could go on like this any more. You didn’t know how you could live with the constant ache forever. Because you never planned on going back to Valaris, you couldn’t face the city you loved after what you did. After how you allowed your mother to be killed. She loved Valaris, and loved flying over the city. And it was your fault she was dead, no matter what anyone else said. You were to blame. 
You didn’t expect Rhys to appear several days later. He looked tired. You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and tell him that it was going to be okay. But even you didn’t believe that. You couldn’t believe that it would be okay. Too much had happened. 
“We’re going to the Summer Court,” He tells you, “Feyre, Amren, and myself.”
“Enjoy.”
“Little Star, tell me what to do,” He begs, stepping closer to you, “Tell me how to help you.”
“I’ll tell you like I told Mor,” You sigh, “You can’t help me.”
“Come back to Valaris, be with your family.” 
Your head shakes. You couldn’t bear to face Cassian and Azriel. Not now, maybe not ever. It’s something Rhys could never understand. He was able to readjust easily after Amerantha. But he hadn’t spent hundreds of years being beaten and mistreated. He wasn’t starved and drugged every day. You couldn't be mad at him, as much as you wanted to be. Because you knew he suffered too. 
“I can’t come back.”
“You keep saying that but you never say why,” he challenged. 
“Because it’s all my fault!” you finally broke, tears streaming down your face, “It’s my fault, Rhysand. She could still be alive if I had just done something. Anything. But I didn’t.”
“If you’re to blame, then so am I,” He countered, “It should be just as much my fault. I told Tamlin where you would be. I’m the one who didn’t come to meet you as I promised, I left you undefended.” 
“It’s not your fault, Rhys,” You felt anger boiling up in you now. 
Because you didn’t blame him. You never did. He had duties to attend to that day, you understood that he couldn’t get away. He trusted Tamlin. The son of spring had him fooled, and that was not Rhys’ fault. Not in the slightest. 
“Then it isn’t your fault either,” He gently argued. 
You can’t help but shake your head again. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand. He wasn’t there. He didn’t hear her. He doesn’t see her every time he closes his eyes, he doesn't hear her screams in his nightmares. 
“You don’t understand,” You cried, “She didn’t even beg for herself. Even as they cleaved her wings from her body, she only begged for my life. Begged for them to set me free. Even as they hacked her to pieces, she cried for me.” 
“Y/N-”
“I’ll live with that knowledge forever,” You sob, “Do you have any idea what that’s like? To know that you failed your mother? That she died for nothing, because you are nothing?”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why? It’s true. I have nothing left to give,” You shrug, fighting back the tears, “There’s nothing left for me.”
He surges forward and grabs your shoulders, “Don’t say that. Don’t you even think about it. Never think about something like that. There is so much left for you in this life.”
“It doesn’t feel that way, Rhys,” You feel numb all of the sudden. 
The void is back. And you’re once again a shell of yourself with no fight left to give. You sag against Rhys’ hold on you, wishing you could just crawl back into your bed and forget that this conversation ever happened. 
You wish he would just leave already so you could just disappear within yourself again. You wished he would just leave you alone to waste away. It seemed to be the only thing you could think of doing these days. 
He looks into your eyes and goes silent for a moment. You know the look he has, he’s speaking to someone, mind to mind. You feel anxiety well up within you, because you have no idea who he’s speaking with and what he’s telling them. 
You can only hope that it’s Morrigan and nothing else. You can only hope that he’s trying to ascertain how serious you are about having nothing left. But then shadows ripple in the room, subtly at first, but enough that you realize it. And it’s not you calling to them 
“You promised me,” You cry, hitting his chest, “You fucking promised.” 
“I won’t let you wither away to nothing,” He says sternly, “Not when there’s someone who can stop it.”
The shadows take form. You rip yourself from Rhys’ grasp and try to run but you hardly make it out of the room before the man is then flesh. You know the second he’s here, because you can feel it in your very bones.  Like a song in your blood. You try to keep moving but your body betrays you and stops. You think that maybe he won’t take notice of you. Maybe he’ll be too focused on Rhys. But then you hear footsteps. So hesitant, so light you hardly hear them. 
You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, or maybe it’s his. You think you might drop dead here. Right in front of both of them, and then where would they be? Your hands are shaking, just like the rest of your body. But you keep your back towards him, too afraid to turn around. 
A hand reaches for your shoulder. His touch is featherlight, but you can feel his scars through the thin material of your shirt. You knew it was him, long before he touched you. You could smell him better now though. Could feel that void in your chest slowly starting to fill. 
As if his very presence was enough to bring you back to life. 
Hesitantly, he speaks. Voice so silky and deep, just as you remembered it in your dreams. Only now it’s a dream made real, and he’s here. You’re alive and he’s alive and suddenly he’s gently spinning you around to face him. 
There are tears in his eyes as he opens his mouth, “Y/N.”
It’s the only thing you hear as he studies your face. Your lip trembles as tears fall anew. You can feel the air filling your chest, nothing but the scent of him filing your nose. For the first time in years you want to smile, because he’s here. And more devastatingly beautiful than you remembered him being. 
“Az,” you cry out softly. 
He pulls you into his chest, holding you there tightly. For the first time in a couple of hundred years, you felt complete. You nuzzle into him, still crying, getting his leathers wet with your tears. You couldn’t bring yourself to care though, because it just felt right. You could feel it deep within your chest, the part of you that always seemed to connect you to him. 
“You’re alive,” You can hear the disbelief in his voice, and the wonder too.
“You’re alive,” You cry, finally allowing the words to sink in. 
He was alive, after all of these years. He was untouched during Amarantha’s rule. Valaris was untouched. Everyone that you loved was okay, and so were you. Somehow, for the male holding you and your brother, you would fight to be okay. 
He pulls away from you and cups your face. You watch as he looks you over, carefully scanning your body. Any of the lingering bruises from Tamlin had faded away into nothing. There was nothing to prove that anything happened at all besides the two long scars on your back. 
“Y/N,” He whispers again, “Oh my Y/N.” 
Then he leaned in to kiss you and it was as if your whole world shifted to just him. He was the only thing that mattered. Just Azirel. Always only Azriel. Your Azriel. Your perfect, beautiful, scarred Azriel.
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ode2rin · 9 months
Text
“what would you do without me?!”
he knows it's a joke. 
from the way you say it, your voice carries a light teasing tone, feigning irritation, contrasted by the upward tug of your lips - anyone can tell it's a joke.
joke or not, gojo satoru, your lover, will never willingly entertain the thought of a life without you - even for a minute.
but still, he gives it a thought, not needing more than three seconds to realize he definitely knows the answer.
i’d be done for. 
he chuckles softly at his plain-speaking thought, trying to play it off as if he's merely laughing at himself for his culinary mishaps. “well, i guess i'd starve to death or burn myself and the entire place down attempting to cook.”
you laugh along, not sensing the underlying truth in his words.
but gojo can't shake off the haunting possibility that your joke opened a door in his heart and mind. damn, it's a joke – for heaven's sake. he needs to act like it is one.
except that one day, it might not be just a joke anymore. 
and god, may it have mercy, because nothing will ever terrify him more than the thought of losing you.
being the honored one will carry no meaningful weight at the brink of losing you. it will be empty words – because when he had you, honor was to have you in his arms, and being the chosen one meant being loved by you. consequently, without you means to lose himself and everything.
there was a time in his life when gojo satoru was painfully convinced that there was nothing more left to lose in him. in the chaos of his world as the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, he had lost everything. 
until you. you happened. and suddenly, he had everything to lose. 
everything he can lose is here, cooking in his kitchen, humming to a familiar tune while making breakfast exactly like how he wants it.
so, you can’t blame him. you can’t take it out on him to ponder too much on a silly joke. 
“why are you standing there looking at me like that? it’s okay, i forgive you for wasting six eggs.”
“i said i’m sorry! don’t worry, i’m going to make it up to you with dinner tonight,” he declares with a wink, hoping his playful charm masks the depth of his thoughts.
“dinner… like food?”
“wh- of course?! baby, what were you even thinking?!”
“you winked! what was i supposed to think?!”
“is this who i am to you, my love?!”
“oh shut up, satoru!”
gojo’s playful gaze lingers on your flustered face, taking in every detail, every nuance of your being. and he can't help but wonder how you manage to hold his heart in the palm of your hand without even realizing it.
he can't be without you. not now, not ever. 
fate is never kind to anyone, but if by chance it takes pity, let it be on him. of all, he deserves that pity, does he not? 
because to answer your silly joke, he’d be utterly and infinitely done for without you.
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note. i just... love him these days.
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penny00dreadful · 4 months
Text
STWG Prompt: Chill/Give In
Double prompt day! A happy whoopsident!
“Just talk to him. Be chill about it.”
“‘Be chill about it?’ Seriously, Robin?” Steve bit at the skin on the side of his thumb but pulled his hand away when all he could taste was kerosene.
He looked out across the field towards Dustin and Eddie, chasing after each other, playing at battle with their shields.
He could feel his heartbeat in his sides through the bites and on his back and arms where he was dragged over the lake bed but that pain didn’t compare to the near constant fucking heartache he felt every time he looked in Eddie’s direction.
“Steve-”
“Didn’t you just give me a whole speech about how our love lives don’t matter right now because the world might be ending?” He cut her off, a little petulant.
“No,” Robin said firmly. “I said my love life. Because there’s nothing there, there’s no hope. But you-”
“You don’t know that, Vickie could-”
“Steve.” Robin said, almost as if she was begging him. “Please. Go talk to him.”
He had to admit defeat at that, nodding to her and trying not to feel too much about her small sigh of relief as he stood and started to make his way across the field.
Eddie and Dustin were posturing to each other, acting out their victorious return, knights coming back from battle successful.
They both had matching smiles on their faces, those dimples cutting into Eddie’s cheeks and his eyes bright and alight with laughter.
When Steve came to a stop in front of them, arms folded over his chest and they both turned to him, Eddie’s bright eyes turned hard and his mouth fell into a frown while Dustin just looked up at Steve expectantly, still smiling.
“Can I talk to you?” Steve asked, sparing a glance at Eddie’s face and nearly withering under the glare he was sent.
“Can’t imagine we’d have anything to talk about, Harrington.” Eddie turned his back and crouched down, picking back up the hammer and starting to whack nails through the shield again, with far too much force.
“Eddie.” Steve tightened his arms around himself. “Please?”
There was silence between the three of them for a breath, Dustin’s eyes darting from one to the other before Eddie slammed his hammer back down and straightened up.
“Have it your way, then. You always do.” Without a backwards glance, he stormed off towards the tree line, leaving Steve behind feeling like he’d been punched in the gut.
“What’s going on?” Dustin asked, watching Eddie’s retreating form. “He looks like he might try to kill you.”
“If he does, I’d probably deserve it.” He patted Dustin on the shoulder as he passed, following Eddie into the forest.
Steve found him, still scowling, leaned up against a tree a few feet in, trying to blow up Steve’s head with his mind.
Steve could only stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out how to start, not daring to close the distance in between them.
“Talk.” Eddie snapped.
He opened and closed his mouth, eventually figuring it was best to start with his apology.
“I’m sorry.”
He was met with an eye roll and a scoff.
“Oh, now you’re sorry?”
“Yes.” He answered back, firm and resolute. “I’m sorry. I’ve always been sorry.”
“Right.” Eddie nodded, condescending. “And what part are you sorry for, exactly? Or are you just sorry it even happened in the first place?”
Steve huffed to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying his best to keep his emotions from cresting. He’d been so raw for weeks and it was so much worse now, having to face it head on.
“I never wanted to hurt you-”
“Hurt me? Hurt me?” Eddie exploded, out of nowhere. “You didn’t fucking hurt me, Harrington. You eviscerated me. You tore my fucking heart out, and what’s worse, is that you knew you were doing it. I could see it on your face! I can see it right now!” He took a few steps forward, jabbing Steve hard in the chest. “You didn’t even give me a god damned reason and now, because the world is about to fucking end you decide you need to get me off your conscience?”
“No! That’s not what this is-”
“Then what is it!”
“It’s this whole fucking situation!” Steve threw his hands out to the side. “It’s this fucking apocalypse and people fucking dying and getting hurt and I couldn’t have it be you! Not you. Never you.”
“Never me, never me. Story of my fucking life. What could never be me, huh?” He snapped. “Could never be permanent? Could never be what you need? Can’t be your fucking breeder for your all American dream, is that it? No? Then make some fucking sense, would you?”
“It’s not that, jesus, did you listen to anything I said the whole fucking time we were- It wasn’t about my white picket fence fucking dream that I would still be happy to have with you-!” He shook his head, he was getting off track. “I always knew this supernatural shit wasn’t over, Eddie. They said it was done. Hopper died, the Byers moved themselves and El away, they said it was done. But never fucking is. And I couldn’t stand the idea of you being hurt by it.”
Eddie paused, his big brown eyes darting between Steve’s own, searching, gears in his head clicking, until Steve could see the moment the puzzle pieces slotted into place.
“This is why you went missing for a couple of days? This is why you turned up at the trailer looking like you’d been fucking tortured after the mall burned down?”
“Yeah,” Steve sighed, the fight leaving him. “And I knew it was going to happen again. I’d already gotten Robin and Erica mixed up in the shit, I couldn’t have it happen to you too.”
Eddie was no longer glaring at him but he didn’t look happy either. 
He looked disappointed. 
Disappointed and hurt.
“So, what?” He asked, taking a step back and crossing his arms. “Instead of talking to me about it, you just decided to break up with me?”
“Eddie,” He reached out to him but Eddie took a step back. Steve felt like he’d been stabbed in the heart all over again. “I didn’t ‘just decide’ anything-”
“But you did! You did! You decided for me. You made the decision for me. You didn’t even give me the option- You didn’t tell me what was going on-”
“I couldn’t! There were NDA’s and government agents-”
“Oh fuck off, Steve.” Eddie snapped. “Like you ever gave a shit about what some suits said to you.”
“This is different, this is getting black bagged and never seen again type of shit-”
“Look me in the eye. You look me in the eye and tell me you’ve never broken one of those NDA’s or told one of those agents to shove it up their ass. Go on.” Eddie stepped closer again but it definitely wasn’t an invitation to reach out, it was a challenge. 
Steve looked Eddie in the eye. 
He could lie. 
He could say he always followed those NDA’s to the letter. 
He could say he had never bitched out those agents along with Joyce to declare Hopper a hero and not brush him under the rug like they tried to do with Barb, making him some crooked, power hungry, drugged up cop who ‘went missing’ after he was last seen standing at the quarry’s edge. 
But he couldn’t. 
He couldn’t lie to Eddie, not anymore.
Eddie wilted. His eyes went from hard and defiant down to soft, sad and resigned.
“I thought so.” He said, quiet and vindicated, though he sounded the opposite of happy to be so. “You made decisions for me Steve. You took my agency away. No one gets to do that. Not my father, not Wayne and not you.”
“Eddie.” He said, his voice cracking. “I just wanted to keep you safe.”
“Well look around you, sweetheart.” He replied, opening his arms and gesturing around. “What a great job you did.”
Eddie shoulder-checked Steve hard as he passed, making his way out of the forest without looking back.
When Steve finally reappeared at Robin’s side, his eyes red and puffy and his throat raw, she silently took his hand and tugged him in close.
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“Nancy.” Steve snapped, grabbing Dustin by the shoulders and wrenching him away. “Get him out of here.”
He threw Dustin into her arms, not letting himself care about the pain he’d probably just caused, he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose focus, there was too much blood and he had to do something. 
“Robin, with me.” But he needn’t have even said it. Robin was already kneeling down by Eddie’s side, checking his breathing, looking for a pulse while Steve started to rifle through the pockets and pouches on his War Zone vest, pulling out bandages and gauze.
They wouldn’t do much, but hopefully it would be enough until they could get him somewhere safer. 
Safer and cleaner.
It had to be enough for that.
It had to be.
Steve couldn’t lose him. 
He handed some of the bandages off to Robin who had moved down to work on his stomach while Steve wrapped up his neck.
“Baby?” Steve couldn’t help but put a hand on Eddie’s cheek. 
His uninjured cheek, because jesus christ the bats practically bit the whole way through on the other side.
“Eddie, can you hear me? Please, baby?” He begged. “Come back to me.”
His heart was in his throat and he was in the middle of trying to shove it the fuck back down because he needed to concentrate when Eddie’s eyes fluttered.
“S’vie?”
“Yeah.” Steve exhaled in relief. “Yeah, it’s me baby. I’m here, you’re gonna be okay.”
Eddie didn’t say anything else, just groaned in pain when Robin cruelly tightened the bandages, but it had to be done.
His eyes fluttered closed again and he didn’t move, save for the small rise and fall of his chest that Steve watched like a fucking hawk.
When he positioned himself in between Eddie’s legs with his back to him, gesturing for Robin to lift Eddie up so he could drag his arms over his shoulders, she paused for a second, giving him a look.
“Your injuries-”
“Birdie, please.”
“Okay, okay. Shit.”
She grabbed Eddie tight under the arms and though she struggled with his dead weight, eventually the two of them were able to manoeuvre him in such a way so he was draped over Steve’s back.
He would have expected a whimper of pain or a shout or something but Eddie was deathly silent, his breaths coming in short sharp rattles.
“Go ahead,” He said to Robin, starting the long and painful trek back to the trailer. “Get the portal ready for me.”
She didn’t hesitate, just nodded and ran.
Steve tightened his arms and grit his teeth.
One foot in front of the other.
“Don't do this to me, baby.” He panted. “Don't go.”
Each step was like a fresh knife through his sides, the raw wounds on his back screamed at him and his vision was starting to swim but he refused, he refused to give in.
There was a small moan in his ear and he could feel Eddie’s eyelashes brushing against his neck as he blinked his eyes open.
“What day s'it?” He slurred, breath hot against Steve’s skin.
“It's-” Steve inhaled, feeling like he couldn’t get a proper lungful, “Thursday.”
“T'm'rrow's date night.” His voice was so quiet, so thin that Steve could barely hear it. He wanted to tell him to stop talking, to conserve his energy but at the same time, talking meant alive.
“Yeah.” Steve huffed. “Yeah, it is, so just-” He stumbled, nearly falling to his knees but managing to catch himself, “Just hang on a little-”
“Dn't know if… if 'm gonna make it.”
“Don't-” he breathed, each pass of air through his lungs getting more and more painful. He was just at the trailer steps now and he could see a figure coming back through the portal from behind the door.
“M'sorry.”
“Eds, don't apologise.” He tried to soothe, everything within him screaming as he lifted a leg to go up the steps. He’d never make it. He’d never be able to carry him up, but he had to try. “Just stay awake, please baby. Please.”
Eddie didn’t respond, but there were still those small puffs of air against Steve’s neck.
The trailer door burst open, Robin and Nancy rushing down the steps to take Eddie’s weight. 
For one delirious moment he held on tighter, he didn’t want to let him go, didn’t want him out of his sight, but he came to his senses quickly, letting the girls drag him up the stairs.
Robin looked back at him torn but Steve waved her off.
“Get him through, Birdie!” He said from his position, holding himself up on the bannister.
Robin glared at him. “God fucking damn it, Steve!” 
But she turned and started to drag Eddie inside because she was his fucking soulmate, god damn it and best fucking friend.
The ascent up and into the trailer was slow. 
By the time he made it to the makeshift stairs they had created up to the portal, the girls and Eddie were already through and Robin was on her way back to him. 
“Evie, come on!” Robin begged, tears in her eyes, reaching a hand out to him.
His vision was starting to darken around the edges, but he was able to grasp at her fingers.
With one last push, he felt gravity shift around him and then everything went black.
“-ere are you going?! We need… hospital!”
“My mom… nurse training until-”
“-some fucking suburban housewife-”
“-don’t know shit-!”
“-innocent-”
“Don’t let your father-”
When Steve blinked his eyes open, he was in the last place he expected to be, back in the Wheelers basement, lying on a bundle of blankets on the ground, Robin curled up next to him asleep and Karen Wheeler’s pink pumps disappearing up the stairs.
He was right next to the couch and looking up, he saw an arm hanging over the side, a familiar spattering of bats inked down his forearm and a messy shock of brown curls just barely visible.
He could already feel consciousness leaving him again, but with the last of his strength he lifted his own arm up, grasping Eddie’s hand in his and squeezing.
All of the tension, apprehension, fear, heartbreak and grief left his body when he felt Eddie squeeze back.
So this fic (because it turned into a fucking oneshot) is actually a bit of background I had imagined for an upcoming future fic that I had never planned to write, but was in my head for later context for the story. Eventually, once that fic has been uploaded (it will be, it's one of my 1st Year Anniversary Event fics), I will upload this lil oneshot to AO3 seperately.
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cumikering · 18 days
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Neighbour Ghost x reader 5
2.9k | fluff, night terrors, being held at knifepoint Whose fault is it when the stray you feed won’t leave? (part 1) (part 6)
“You got a girlfriend now, Riley? You know you don’t have to keep coming back to base, especially not at this hour,” a lieutenant from another unit teased as Simon passed him in the hall. “Don’t forget our training is coming up.”
He kept his head down as he unlocked his door. It was inevitable for suspicions to arise after doing this for months now, but thinking of the eventual teasing he was getting in the dining hall made him groan.
Earlier that night, he’d left his hoodie at yours. If he couldn’t have yours with him anymore, maybe you’d appreciate having his.
You took the bait, a selfie of you in it already waiting on his phone when he lay in bed. He shouldn’t have left your flat - your bed was infinitely better than the one he was in anyway. Perhaps he could find an excuse to keep one of your shirts with him instead.
Simon came over almost every night and the banter only got worse when his peers started noticing how he was only gone a few hours each evening.
“Don’t you get tired from all the driving?” you asked as you poured him another glass of water at dinner. “It’s not a short drive at all.”
He looked up from his plate. “Do I bother you?” he asked carefully.
“No, no! I meant, why don’t you… Your flat’s right down the hall.”
Of course the drive was beyond tedious, but it was the lesser of two evils than to be caught having one of his bloody nightmares again.
When he had his first back home, fresh after deployment, his mum said his piercing scream woke the whole house up. He swung the bedside lamp around in a daze as he heaved, yelling at nothing. She said it shattered her heart to see her baby so.
“Why not stay there if you don’t want to be here?”
You thought he didn’t want to be with you?! Where did you get such an outrageous theory? He didn’t want to leave your bed if he was allowed to.
“It’s not that.” He put his fork down, weighing how to put it. “I dream sometimes. I’ve been told it can be really difficult to watch.”
They hadn’t been anywhere as vivid the past few months, but he knew the demons hadn’t left. They lurked around the corner, ready to strike at the earliest convenience.
He usually got them in the field or fresh after a mission, but shooting up into the still darkness was no shame among his sergeants as they shared understanding glances, a silent promise to keep it amongst the unit. Each of them carried the same weight after all.
You nodded, giving him one of those kind smiles again.
Why couldn’t he hold his tongue around you? The lame jokes, the embarrassing bet he lost and now this. What were you doing to him?
“And we have training this week. I’d prefer sleeping a little later than having to wake earlier to drive.” He averted his gaze. “I’m in the top third of the regiment. One of us is getting promoted to captain.”
For years, he looked forward to each promotion, excited about being and doing more, but that evening as the words formed in his mouth, they tasted… underwhelming. It dawned on him that it would be another reason he wasn’t enough for you, not someone you deserved. It caught him off guard that the title was not as shiny now up close.
“That’s wonderful. Captain Simon Riley does have a lovely ring to it.” You reached across the table and rested your hand on his. ”When do you get to know?”
Did the joy in your eyes ever lie? Was he allowed to imagine a world where the possibility to be apart longer wasn’t a problem for you, even when she couldn’t handle the mere thought of him being SAS?
His hand clasped over yours. “We’ll be deployed next month for a bit, but after that. So in two, three months.”
“Rest up then. You don’t have to come over. We can call meanwhile.”
Would you let him? That he only took without giving? He was supposed to provide, to be endlessly needed, but never need.
But you did. The rest of the week he was battered from training, but your soothing voice surrounded him as he lay in bed, melting the tension of his aching muscles away. It was far better than when he was deployed, but it wasn’t the same if he couldn’t hold and kiss you. He had to feel you pressed against him, to be constantly reminded that you were real.
By Friday, he was dead tired, but he couldn’t stay away from you anymore.
It’s raining hard. I don’t want you to have to drive so far again after a short visit. We can meet for breakfast tomorrow instead?
Nah
You opened your door to Simon with his hood pulled up, wet with rain splotches. He didn’t wait any longer before pulling you in for a kiss.
“Good thing you left the black one here.” You helped take his wet hoodie off, and the shirt under pulled with it before you smoothed it down. As you hung the black fabric on the back of the chair, you chuckled. ”Do you even have any in another colour?”
He shrugged, smiling, thinking of the secret matching one he got. “Maybe.”
You sipped your Ceylon tea as yet the same panda advertisement interrupted the episode of the Great British Bake Off.
“You’re making that face again, Simon.” You placed your cup back on the table and snuggled back against him.
He turned to you with a sheepish grin, his arm wrapping around you. “Am I that obvious?”
“Shoot. Don’t be shy.”
“Shoot,” he repeated, barely able to contain his own laughter. “What’s the scariest tree?”
“What?”
“Bam-boo!”
You giggled into the crook of his neck while he cackled at his own joke. He could have sworn you were mostly laughing at the way he laughed, but he liked it. He liked making you smile.
When you led him to bed, he noticed the nightstand on his side was cleared. You’d removed the night lamp and the colourful candles you liked to light at night. He let out a small sigh, thinking of you looking up ways to help. You didn’t have to be so thoughtful or he was never going to stop spilling his secrets.
Your fingers brushed along his black and blue arm making him shiver.
“Do you need anything for these?”
“They look far worse than they are.”
“How many people did you beat this week?”
He chuckled. “Enough.”
Simon was not one to avoid stare downs, but when your soft gaze lifted to his face, he couldn’t hold it for long anymore. He didn’t want you looking back at him, not like that with those gorgeous eyes. The façade he loved to intimidate people with had grown to be an insecurity. You were supposed to be with someone as beautiful as yourself.
“Love the shape of your nose.” You pecked the tip of his crooked nose – another proof of the terrible things he’d done.
He rolled you off him, climbing over you. Under his shirt, your hands explored the expanse of his muscled back as he kissed and kissed. He wondered if you could tell how many raised scars there were, the way his body couldn’t bury the memories properly anymore.
You pulled his shirt off and your hand trailed down his chest, littered with more cuts and scrapes. He wished it looked better for you. When he leaned back down, you kissed down his neck and collarbones.
“There’s nothing not beautiful about you, Si,” you breathed against his shoulder. “It’s too easy to love you.”
This huge, blemished, strange dog might have kept coming back to your door, but at this point, maybe it was a bit of your fault too if you kept inviting it in and feeding it. It was too good to be true, like it was all a dream to have come across you, to end up at your dining table, to be here in your arms.
How did you expect to say something like that without making him want to cry, without giving you his soul?
“Simon?” you whispered against his knuckles you were just kissing.
He hummed drowsily against your exposed shoulder, his bare chest against your back.
“What’s blue and not heavy?”
“What?”
“Light blue.”
The last thing he remembered was snorting softly as he smiled before he slipped into slumber.
And so the stray lingered longer and longer after each weeknight dinner and stayed at yours every Friday and Saturday. You didn’t seem to mind. Meanwhile, after weeks of back and forth between his mum and her lawyer, his dad was finally served.
Simon decided the occasion deserved a celebration. He tried the steakhouse again, telling himself he was going to take matters into his own hands if the place screwed up his reservation again. They didn’t, fortunately for them, and he was even given complimentary onion rings ‘for the mix up the other day’. Apparently it was hard to forget the huge man with the intense stare.
You kept surprising him how you even remembered his lame jokes when you retold them to his mum. He always loved seeing you both interact, how gentle you were. Most of all with him, the way you grabbed his rough hand under the table, stroking with your thumb. It was impossible to not love you.
But the best part of each evening was that he got to kiss you at the end of it, unlike before, when the thought of holding your hand almost made heat rise to his cheeks. But first, he needed to get cleaned up before he could climb in bed with you.
“Mum, you need to stop giving me that look,” he grumbled, tossing his keys onto the entryway table.
“What look?” She turned to him feigning innocence, but the amused smile she’d been wearing all night betrayed her.
“That one!”
She laughed, swatting his arm. “Oh, Si. You’ve been happy. It looks good on you.”
He blinked.
“There’s nothing a mum wants more for her son. Take care of her. She’s a sweet one.”
You were, indeed, especially in bed, all cosy in one of his shirts. You smiled before giving him your back – an invitation for him to come up behind you. He nuzzled your neck, arm wrapping around your waist.
“Wait, you’ve got a non-black hoodie!” You turned to him, fingers tracing over the pie patch on his chest. “Just like the one you got me.”
He smiled.
Acknowledging the tingles you gave him was weird, that his mum knew, and that his door wasn’t far enough from yours, especially when she wouldn’t stop shooting him those looks. It didn’t matter he was a grown man - he felt like a teen all over again, getting teased for having a crush.
It doesn’t hurt anymore to think about the past, about being left behind. You made him feel like he wasn’t just another unsalvageable, daft soldier, but someone worth having, caring for.
And so he willed himself to not ruin the time he had with you by getting ahead of himself. There were other great lieutenants too - he might not even get the promotion this year, and this wouldn’t have to change one bit.
With the divorce finally happening, things were falling into place. Breathing didn’t feel as heavy, and having you in his arms was the cherry on top. If being with you was home, he was never sure he even had one before this.
Simon was deployed the following week.
The night prior, he engulfed you in a hug at your door, nose buried in your neck as he inhaled. You made him promise to get home soon and safe as he kissed you. The more time you spent with him, the harder it was to see him leave.
You knew what you were getting into from the start, but you couldn’t lie the distance and risk he put himself in made you uneasy. Knowing how devoted he was to his job, you wanted nothing more than for him to climb further up the ranks, but you knew it also meant an uphill battle of balancing a normal relationship amidst his commitments. Even when there was almost no day without hearing from him, the hours in between were unbearable sometimes.
Your dad was supportive, as far as not blatantly voicing his opinion counted anyway, but knowing him, it was still a more positive reaction than to some of the men you saw. You were his precious one after all.
You thought he could see it too, that Simon was quickly becoming more than just a man you were seeing. But you didn’t miss the looks he gave - like you were making a huge mistake - apprehensive if the lieutenant was even a good man, if he could give you a proper relationship like what you deserved, if he was only going to break your heart. You reassured him he was a gentle soul despite his living, that he overflowed with selflessness.
“You’ll see when you meet him,” you promised.
On the first Saturday of the month, it was your turn again to volunteer at the soup kitchen. It was nice when Simon could help with the lifting and the ride, but this time you had to resort to a taxi like you always did. He insisted you use his car while he was away, but you rejected the kind offer.
Ben helped as much as he could, but you didn’t have the heart to see him strain and groan. He had history of a bad back anyway, which was why he stopped doing the majority of the baking those years ago.
“Don’t have to pay today, luv. Simon covered it before he left.”
“He did?”
“Yes. Go.” His hand wrapped around yours, curling it over the notes you held out to him.
“Thank you, Ben.”
“Thank you.”
Some of your friends asked if the ‘tall bloke’ didn’t come with that evening. You smiled. ‘Maybe next month when he’s in town,’ you said.
The shift ended little later than last time, Simon was far more of help than you realised. The chill wind hit as you walked home, and you slowed to tighten your scarf.
The next thing you knew, you were pulled into a dark alley. Nails dug onto your arm through your jacket as a man shoved you back against the rough and damp brick wall, making you yelp. He flicked out a knife from his back pocket.
Your breath caught in your throat when he leaned in, reeking of alcohol, his stare and smirk deranged. You realised… You realised you’d seen him before - the younger, healthier version of him at least.
“Hiya, little birdie. No Simon this time, huh? You’ll listen then…”
Tears pricked your eyes. “D- don’t hurt me, please. You can have everything. There’s an ATM-“
“No, no… I don’t want your money… Tell Mel to – hic – call off the proceedings.“ His grip loosened as his words slowed. “I haven’t been good to her… If she leaves, I’ll have no more chance to… make things right.” The knife clanked onto the ground as he hiccuped.
With it, you kicked his shin as hard as you could, making him fall with a shriek. You sprinted away, looking over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t following before rushing into the closest corner shop, your knees pressed to your chest in the furthest corner.
Your hands shook as you tapped your phone, wiping your tears away as the line connected.
“M- Melanie?”
Every once in a while, while looking through the folder he’d made of the photos you sent - his favourite pastime as he waited for sleep after returning your texts, Simon would involuntarily come across that photo. He chuckled.
He stood in your small kitchen wearing the silly apron, a post-pie mess on the counter. He couldn’t hide his concern about the ugly pastry, thinking it wasn’t going to turn out. But it was the very first pie he’d made. Were his tainted hands allowed to create something so wonderful, with you? He wished he’d asked you to be in the picture too.
The way you made him feel, he realised it might be more than an infatuation, more than a fleeting crush. He still couldn’t wrap his head around how you said he was easy to love, but you were not one to lie. Being loveable to you to any degree was enough for him.
I’ll tell you when I’m back. He sighed as he stared at one of your selfies.
His phone dinged. Si, call me when you can
He sat up, dialling straight away. “Mum?”
“Your dad’s back. This time he went after her.”
“What?” His hand formed into a fist. That bloody bastard.
“She’s okay. Shaken, but alright now, sleeping in your bed.” She sighed. “I can’t keep running from my problems, Si. Look how I’m bothering you, even dragged her into all of this.”
“I’ll serve him the bloody papers, mum,” he said through his teeth. “And he’ll regret not signing them the first time around.”
@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @astraluminaaa @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @mxtokko @reaperxxxxzz @audisive @sparrowgalaxy @fanficreblogs @lyenera
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pickingupmymercedes · 2 months
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Ways to say "I love you" part 2 - Lewis Hamilton
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I think we all deserve a little something after the horror we went through in today's race ❤️
warnings: mentions of blood, accidents and bit of angst
wordcount: +2k
important: again, each drabble was writen as a snippet into different moments with Lewis. Special thank you for my 💗 anon for helping with some of the ideas
As always, my asks are open for corrections, ideas and just to chat too!
Over a cup of tea
“We need to talk this through, before it blows in our faces, Lewis” Serious expression on your face as you handed him the cup of tea on the balcony of your apartment overlooking London.
“Mhmm, we do?” He questioned confused.
“Yes…what exactly are we?” You couldn’t look him in the eye as you questioned him, too embarrassed you weren’t sure if what you felt the night before was real, even if come the morning he was still there, as he had been for the past two months.
“Those words last night meant nothing to you?”
“They meant the world, actually”
“But you don’t feel the same?” The confusion now passed on to him, forehead scrunching as he questioned if he hadn’t read your relationship right, and your body responding before your head could think it through as you reached for the hand he willingly let you take.
“I… I need to feel safe to say it back.” You responded after a few awkward seconds of silence as he waited for your response.      
“I want you, if you’ll have me. I really do love you. And you don’t need to say it back now, just let me know if this relationship is for real, because I want it to be.” He said looking into your eyes, anxiously waiting until you lifted your head to give you a smile.
“Thank you for understanding” You said buried into his neck as you took the tea away from his hands and brought him closer.    
Over a bottle of wine
“Found board games!” You excitedly exclaimed as you walked back into the house. Tiny feet stomping away and reaching you in seconds.
“Is there Monopoly? Uncle Lew said we could be here for daayssss” Willow was the first one to start taking the boxes as you handled her and Kaiden the pile you had just borrowed from the nearest neighbor
“Are they still stuck in New York?” You asked Lewis just as he set his phone down.
“Earliest forecast is tomorrow night, possibly” a concerned look to him as his mom and sisters got stuck in a snow storm on their way from England to Colorado.
“Guess we have these two to ourselves then”  
“Granny said it’d be good practice for you to take care of us” Kaiden chirped in but not fully aware of the shock in Lewis’ face at the remark.
“It’ll be fun when there’s two more girls to play with” This time Willow getting you to choke on the water you were drinking.
“Why two girls?” Lewis amusedly asked, aware you were still trying to hold the laughter in the kitchen
“Dunno” She simply shrugged as she helped her brother set up the game.
“Two girls, huh?! You know people say I’m a girl dad…” He brought back the subject as he picked up the mess left in the living room, a glass of wine open on the kitchen counter and two glasses already in your hands as you approached him after putting the kids to bed.  
“I think I’d be happy with that” Your soft smile easing the tension you felt in him as he mentioned kids with you for the first time, handing him his glass and dragging him to sit down on the sofa for a bit.
“I think I’d prefer a boy then a girl, you know, so he could be there for her.” He said after a bit of silence, almost as if he was pondering what would be best order, and you could feel the yearning to have kids of his own in his voice.  
“I agree with the internet people on that one, you’re too much of a girl dad, babe” You set your drink on the side table, cuddling closer to his chest as he pondered on his glass.
“Doesn’t really matter, honestly, just one would be more than enough. As long as I got you too”
As an apology
“What the hell was THAT for?” You threw your handbag and phone all the way across the kitchen island as you looked at Lewis standing at the door, an annoyed look to him.
“That guy shouldn’t have approached you” His mind still on the tall blue-eyed dude that tried to buy you a drink at the club.
“I can handle myself you know?! Never had the need for a knight in shining armor…” all your anger gone as you realized how absurd that sounded when said to your knighted boyfriend, a smile cracking the tough face you were fighting hard to keep.
“I love you, okay?! You may not need to be saved from a monster but you’re gonna have a knight by your side regardless.”
Taking the cue, he reached for you and brought you close by your waist, tucking one side of your hair behind your ear while using his other one to caress your check.
“Yes sir.” His sweet eyes turning into dark one as he heard you whisper the title and felt your hands rummage through his back. 
As a hello
You smelt his cologne before he walked back into the room from the bathroom, woody and citric tones overcoming your senses as a light tug at your exposed breasts demanded your attention back.
“Hey darling, you done there? Sure you don’t anymore?” The little fingers of your month-old baby girl clutching your fingers as you softly redirected her small mouth back to the spot her eyes wildly looked for.
“Gosh, I love you two so much” His remark a common occurrence in your daily routine in the bubble of nappies, changes and feeds your lives had turned into those past weeks, in the dead of the cold but sunny winter in Monaco.
“Hello to you too, hot stuff” he smiled back as you checked his toned abs adorned by the towel in his waist, sitting by your side in the headboard of your bed, hands caressing your thighs.
“You sure you’re going to be okay here this weekend?” Concern written all over his features as he stroked your daughter’s tiny legs.
“Your mom’s here, my mom’s here, we’re gonna be just fine Lew.” His eyes searching for any doubts in your mind.   
“I’m only a call away, okay?!” He whispered as he kissed your head, enjoying the last moments he would have with his little family for a few days before yet another season began. 
With a shuddering gasp
It’s funny how time really is relative, you thought as you slowly watched four cars pile onto each other in a traffic jam that had just about three other cars in front already. You weren’t even paying attention to the road before, only really looking up from your phone when your car suddenly swerved right and hit the grass on the side of the road.
“Are you okay y/n?” His whole body hovering over yours, hands already unbuckling your seatbelt as Lewis tried to grab your attention.
“C’mom babe, we need to get you out of the car, now” He tried again but you couldn’t respond back, still in shock from the near miss, your hands a wobbly mess as he squeezed it.
“I’m carrying you outside, okay?!” He didn’t even wait for a reply before lifting you like you weighed nothing, examining you in the process to check for anything hurt while he carried you to the rest of people waiting by the road.
It took a while, more than a few minutes for your eyes to start focusing back on your surroundings. He was knelt right in front of you, worry all over as he asked again and again if you were hurt.
“You saved us” You gasped quietly as your eyes finally reached his, his hands cupping your face the second he heard you, your lips already on his as you felt his arms taking you into his body.
In a letter
You’d been, since the beginning, the one he wanted, comings and goings through the years hadn’t been able to diminish the electric pull he felt whenever he saw your smile light up the room, even from afar. But as if the universe liked having a laugh at their expenses, time and time again you’d both find your lives going in complete opposite directions. So, as he sat in his desk writing his vows, he could only be amazed that by some miracle he had found his way into your life and into your heart.
“ … So, I vow to be your lover, companion, partner and ally. Through what may I promise to always be there. I might not have the answers or tools but I’ll walk with you, through the darkest of valleys or at the summit of our dreams.
I love you for you, because you give me the chance to be my truest self, because when you’re around I know we’ll find our way through. I love you, and from the moment I learned that, I’ve been giving it my all to be worthy of you.”
When the broken glass litters the floor
“Fuck, why did I do that?” Your exclamation coming out a bit louder than expected as your eyes started to water from the sharp pain in your hand, blood already dripping from the gush on the palm as you looked to the pieces of the glass on the floor.
“Babe? What’s happened, what was that noise?” His voice coming from just outside the bathroom door, fidgeting with the lock to try and get in.
“Please, let it be a good timing” Was all you could whisper to yourself, the knot in your throat almost suffocating you, the reality of it all too much to comprehend or process, your feet automatically swerving the glass and blood on the floor to get to the door.
“I hope you don’t have anything important going on in the next months” you said just as his eyes tried to scan you and the bathroom. His features with confusion all over as you handled him the stick with the 2 lines on them.
“What’s… but the doctor said…really?” You watched as all types of emotion tumbled across his eyes, overwhelmed an understatement to what you both felt at that moment.
You nodded just slightly after a few moments of his eyes questioning yours, the start of a smile forming on his lips as his arms reached you and engulfed you in a hug, crashing your injured hand in the process.
“Ouch, hand” He froze as you winced, putting two and two together, looking to the blood and the remains of the glass and seeing the injure on your palm for the first time.
“I do hope this kid takes after you and isn’t as clumsy” You pointed as he sat you down at the tub to check the cut. His smile reaching all the way to his eyes as he chuckled and looked at you.
“Nah, I hope this kid is every bit just like you.”
With no space left between us
You could feel his movements as he opened the parachute and brought you two back down to safe land, but nothing managed to tear your eyes from the immensity of the sky. There was infinity as long as your eyes could see and you were nothing in comparison, your thoughts long lost to the smallness of human race.
“You were awfully quiet up there, you good?” His voice a bit dry from the wind, your bodies tightened together as the guys got you both out of the mess of ropes.
“I think I’m still processing how small we really are” You answered almost to yourself, still trying to comprehend what you had just experienced.
“Another go at tandem is due then?” You saw the smirk in his face as you turned to look at him, his arms still very much wrapped around you and his fingers circling in your forearm.
“Thank you for dragging me out here, but how did you know I’d like skydiving?!” You reached back to his arms while they strapped you out of the seat, holding him closer, still with the ghost feeling of the wind around.
“I love you… that’s how I knew you’d love it.” He said to your hair as he held you to him, smug face as he reveled in the feeling of you.  
From very far away
The speakers blasted the victory song as each of the three drivers on the podium sprayed champagne around, everyone drenched and smiles thrown left and right, laughs being heard all the way around the Monza podium.  
As Lewis stood by the edge of the platform, he lifted his trophy at the sea of Tifosi, as a way to show appreciation for the support so far on the season and at his new home race, dedicating his win to them.
Turning to the pitlane he also pointed his trophy to the Ferrari team, scanning the crowd he found you at, just by Fred and Anthony, tears flowing down and a gleaming smile that could light up his entire soul. You tried mouthing something to him but he couldn’t quite make it out in the overwhelming state you were all in.
“I love you” he said to you, from the top of the podium, knowing that whatever it was you were saying, and whatever it was that happened, could be answered and resolved with those three words.
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withleeknow · 4 days
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hi lovely!! first off congrats on 1k that's so so awesome and you deserve all that + more truly :( your writing is so tender and so lovey
i would to join in on your little drabble event!!! could you do something for hanji and the song compass by the neighbourhood? that song reminds me of him so so much so i hope you get the vision!! thank you angel and have a beautiful day!! ✮⋆˙
compass.
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pairing: producer!jisung x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, hurt/comfort?, fluff, swearing, arson jokes? lmao word count: 1.4k
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
main masterlist / request masterlist / ko-fi
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you're always there to help me when i'm down i'm lucky you've been keeping me around you're the star i look for every night when it's dark, you'll stick right by my side
compass - the neighbourhood
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"fuck, fuck, fuck!"
the sound of jisung's verbalized frustration draws your attention to his desk and setup in the middle of room, where he's been sitting for the better part of two hours, hunched over the equipment like he often does when he's in the studio.
it's written all over his face just how upset he is that this particular piece he's working on isn't flowing right. the deep furrow between his eyebrows communicates utter displeasure. the clench of his jaw tells you he's angry, and that he's angry at himself for not being able to work through his block.
you abandon your comfortable spot on the couch in favor of pattering over to his side where he's all tensed up like an aggrieved hamster whose body can't contain the annoyance he feels. jisung can be short-tempered sometimes, but you know how to handle him in moments like this.
sliding a hand over his back, you say, "take a little break with me."
he huffs out a breath, eyes still focused on his laptop screen. "i can't afford a break. chan hyung expects this to be done in two days."
"so it's in two whole days. you can leave it for fifteen minutes, it won't kill you."
"but i still have to rework the first verse and figure out what in the fucking hell this second verse is-"
"han jisung," you scold him lightly, to which he instantly shuts up and peers up at you with his big eyes, immediately apologetic when he recognizes his harsh language.
"sorry," he mumbles, "i'm just stressed."
"which is why you need a break. you're not doing anyone any good just sitting here and trying to make your laptop explode with your eyes."
he lets out a pathetic-sounding mewl but he follows you to the couch regardless. jisung knows you're right because you always are. you're the more level headed between the two of you, whereas he's the one who lets his emotions get the better of him sometimes.
before, he would often succumb to his negative feelings. it's hard to keep his cool when nothing seems to go right and there's a deadline on his ass. he'd get so frustrated with his work that sometimes, he would delete whole tracks off his drive only to instantly regret it and spiral even more. he'd take it out on the people around him with his grumpy attitude and misplaced pettiness.
when jisung is overwhelmed, he tends to spin out in all directions. he splinters and drowns in a sea of his own making, constantly being pushed away further and further from shore because he doesn't know how to anchor himself, how to hold on so he wouldn't drift far away. his solution to soothe his anger has always been to give into it, to rip whole pages from notebooks and lock himself in his studio for hours on end until he could plow through the stubborn creative block. it'd often leave him exhausted - emotionally and physically so - and in no better state than he started out with.
jisung accepted this a long time ago - that his way of dealing with his emotions wasn't very healthy, but it was the only way he knew.
that is, until you popped into his world and taught him that people can be lifelines too. falling upon him like a wish that he never realized he was making his whole life.
"what's the matter, baby?" you ask, prompting him to air out his grievances as he lays his head on your chest while you card your fingers through his soft curls. he leans into you instantly, a long sigh escaping his pouty lips. jisung's got a lot of pride, and he would rather die before admitting to anyone that he loves to be babied by you behind closed doors.
he knows the question is just your way of getting him to verbalize all of his pent-up frustration, and not because you're eager to help him traipse through his mind palace and solve whatever dilemma he's having with the track. let's be honest, you never really have a clue what he's talking about, but it helps that you're keen on listening to him even though you can't offer him any valuable insight. more than you could ever know, it does wonders for jisung, just being able to untangle his thoughts and release the mess in his mind.
he could simply just talk to chan, sure, or any of his other friends who work in the industry. but again, his pride is an awful thing sometimes.
you never make him feel like he has prove himself to earn your love and attention, though. around you, jisung feels enough as he is. there's never been any need to toughen up in your presence.
"i just... i can't work with this track. nothing is flowing right. i hate everything i come up with." he rambles on about the things that plague his mind; topline this and beats that - they're really just words to you. you weren't blessed with the same genius in music that jisung was, so you just listen until he's done, until he concludes his tangent with a groan as he nuzzles further into the comfort of your warmth.
"you said that the last time, you know?"
"said what?"
"that everything sucks and you hate it."
"because everything sucks," he whines again, his eyebrows knitted together as he adorns a petulant pout. "and i hate it."
as you play with his fluffy hair, you feel him lean into your touch like it's the very thing that will bring him clarity. in a way, it does. your gentle touch may not give him the answer he needs, but it quiets the static in his mind, drowns out the continuous buzzing that muddles his brain.
"you're too hard on yourself," you say, to which jisung just huffs out a breath in disagreement. "i'm serious. you say this every time but it all still works out in the end. you're so smart, and talented. you shouldn't forget that."
his frown only deepens in response to your words. he knows you're right; things have always turned out fine before. trust the process and all that shit, but he's hot-headed and impatient sometimes, and he doesn't want to endure the stress that often comes with the process. he just wants to get to the finish line.
then, you continue, "remember 13?"
"what about 13?"
"you didn't like it at first either. you were so dramatic about it. but you sucked it up and finished it anyway. you made a hit and nobody could stop talking it. i believe in you. you just need to believe in yourself too."
in complete silence except for the sound of your steady heartbeat in his ears, jisung keeps laying on top of you like a weighted blanket, soaking up your words as a flower would in warm sunlight. of course he remembers 13 and the day he let you listen to the song for the first time. you'd nearly burst into tears in the middle of this studio, pressing kisses all over his face while you gushed over how proud you were of him.
"damn you," he mutters after a while. "why do you have to be so rational?"
"someone's gotta be. if i wasn't here, you probably would've ripped all your hair out, set your keyboard on fire and ran off into the woods."
he shoots up instantly, propping himself on two elbows as he glares at you even though you've got a valid point. it's not that far-fetched of a scenario.
"what?" you tilt your head with a coy smile. "am i wrong?"
jisung stares at you for a quick minute, and it's that very smile you're wearing that mitigates his frustrations and dulls his urge to sabotage his work out of self-inflicted anger. he says nothing at all, just leans down quickly to give you a kiss full of appreciation, despite the way there was a frown tugging on his eyebrows only seconds prior.
"you good now?" you ask, the words coming out a little muffled against his mouth.
if it's with you, then he is. you're the anchor that helps him part his stormy seas. you're the compass that always guides him home. he really doesn't know where he'd be without you, or how he'd manage in times like these if you're not by his side to ground him.
"always good with you around."
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 24.04.2024]
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suguru-getos · 6 months
Text
୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 28﹕✦﹕┈・୧
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-> Event Masterlist
Yakuza Toji Fushiguro x F!Reader -> Dacryphilia
Warnings: Overstimulation, clit-spanking, dacryphilia, soft talk (no degradation), size kink.
Toji Fushiguro— the esteemed mafia head of the Tokyo district, encompassing the entirety of Japan and their drug cartel masked with numerous business, one atop the other. The name and fame of the celebrity CEO who is rumored to hold more power than the government, but stays uncommitted to such false allegations. One more thing about him, he has a wife he dotes on, which people absolutely hate. So much money, so much power, so beautiful & big— who wouldn’t want a husband like him?
You do thank the universe everyday for bestowing you with someone like Toji. At present, you both are vacationing in Greece, Athens. It’s just one of his adoring ways to pave away your boredom/make life more exciting for you. Why would he not? You deserve the whole world after all. The balcony with ancient Greek architecture, white colors and beautiful decors intermingled with the solemn sea waves crashing your booked hotel room. You have marmalade and bread, some coffee & also your husband in front of you. Toji had no interest in the breakfast, his eyes darted on you. “Good morning little one. Slept well?” He asked gently, to which you hummed with a nod. Breathing out in content as the bitter flavor of caffeine hits your lazy nerves just right. “Did you sleep well?” You tilted your head, asking him the same question to which you got a smile-laced nod.
“You know, it’s been a long time since we spent time like this without you being so busy. I… uh, kinda like that.” You smiled, expressing your happiness.
“That makes me so glad, my love. I’d make time for my one and only. That’s a promise.” Toji held your hand in his, kissing your knuckle.
“I’d love that, sir.” You smirked, watching his content expression change to one of excitement. “Really?” He kisses your knuckle again, asking you again if you called him ‘Sir’ because you want things to shift that way.
You nodded, wanting nothing more but to feel Toji's physique taking advantage of its bulk stature and tossing you around. Before you could comprehend more, Toji shoved you down the bed, spreading your legs apart and keeping a pillow down your waist. "Not gonna be nice today pretty girl." Toji hummed, while your wandering eyes watched him eagerly, nodding in approval. You wanted him to have his way with you after all.
His hands ripped the fabric off your shorts, and then your panties, while you could do nothing but watch in awe, gasping at the sound, fluttering into your ears. His eager tongue found its way down your clit, licking and suckling onto it without a care in the world. You mumbled out in a soft moan, feeling yourself giving into the foundation of pleasure Toji has long established, nothing can save you from him. Not that you wanted to be saved.
"That's it, going to make you cum so many times, until I see fit." Toji roared, he wanted to eat you out over and over until you couldn't take it anymore. "Yes, sir, please... all yours." You whimpered as your walls fluttered around nothing, moaning out when the tight cunt felt his thick fingers intervene and curl up.
"Shit, I'm so, so close." You arched your back, shuddering and convulsing for more. "Please, let me cum." You knew better than to tip off the edge without his permission after all. Toji nodded, siren eyes gazing at you as you toppled off, chasing your crashing orgasm with whines and whimpers, your body succumbing into the high and slowly crashing. He was ready to build it again, his fingers not stopping and his mouth wrapped on your puffy clit again, a carnal groan escaping him, indicating he wants more.
"Gonna give me another one, yes?" Toji smirked, watching you nod in affirmation. Oh, how cute you are, wanting to please him and wanting to cum for him again like a good girl in heat. "That's good, being a good girl for me, hmm?" His hand languidly slapped onto your clit once, something deep-rooted within him waking up; when he sees the tears stinging into your eyes. Oh, his little baby was close again.
"Cum for me whenever." Toji cooed, fingers roughly curling up into you, lifting your pelvis up slightly with how rough he's being right now. "God. Can feel you close again." He sighed, eyes drinking up the sight of your furrowed brows, how your lips parted in a silent 'o' when you orgasmed again, bucking your hips and screaming out at the feeling.
"Aw, you're crying, little one?" Toji cooed, watching how his cock strained his pants even more than before. His ever-so-spoiled little baby was now crying because of him. Something about the fact that only he can make you cry and smile did something to him. "Go on, cry for me more.'" He smirked, spanking your clit firmly, watching your body wither down, taking in the painful pleasure and moaning out.
Your soft glossy eyes turned into audible sobs when Toji shoved his thick cock into your fluttery walls, despite fucking him for years, you could never get used to him absolutely ruining you. "Can't take it, little girl? I'm sure you can... come on. Give it to me."
Toji eventually took five orgasms out of you, two on his tongue and three on his cock, switching positions, fucking deep into your cervix, kissing you, muffling your moans, wiping your tears, and kissing you again. "Can't," You sniffled when he eventually halted.
Toji observed you, watching how adorable and utterly cute you looked like this, ruined to the maximum, sobbing cause you've had too much cock. His pretty, little, pathetic baby. "Heh, want another one?" Toji teasingly rubbed your overstimulated and swollen clit, holding your pelvis down when you tried to squirm away in a loud whimper, shaking your head no.
"But you look too cute like this, crying out." He insisted, watching your clenched jaw and your moans turn into screaming.
"Promise, last orgasm." Toji hummed, continuing his torture on your clit. "Cry for me again, pretty girl." He cooed, smirking when you gave up, knowing fully well he would drain another orgasm out of your already tired body.
"Sorry, wifey, can't help it, you know? You look too pretty when you cry."
You don't need to worry because once all this is over, Toji will coup you back in his arms, cradle you for hours, tell you how good you've been, take you to a warm bath, kiss your forehead, call you brave for taking it so well and make you remember how much he loves you all over again.
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moon-rivr · 16 days
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i’d love like a scenario about his infinity or something like that where he never lets anyone touch him even the reader but there’s like a moment where he does or something? could be an established relationship or not idrc. and you can make it smutty or not it’s up to youuu.
- 🫶🏼🫶🏼
within infinities
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pairing: gojo satoru x fem reader
contents: angst, brief mention of self harm from satoru, alc consumption, fingering, some nipple play, use of lube, unprotected sex (wrap it 🤨🫵🏼), and aftercare (sorry if i missed anything)
synopsis: after suguru left satoru behind, he was left to try to rebuild what was left. he shut himself down, blocking out the world as an attempt to keep himself from getting hurt. after trying out several methods to cope with the pain inside of him, he learned that it wasn’t what he needed.
author’s note: thank you for the request, anon! hopefully you enjoy <3
word count: 7k
Gojo Satoru was the strongest sorcerer alive.
And yet, an overwhelming sensation of weakness filled his body like a cruel poison. Slowly clawing away at him and his body until there was nothing left but a simple hollow shell of what he used to be. Nothing left but just the memories of a time where he used to actually be happy. Of a time where he wasn't depending on memories to keep him going throughout the day.
He thought he noticed everything, small details that nobody else would've thought to pay attention to. The cigarette brands that Shoko consistently pilfered through to find the one with the strongest nicotine output. A different colored ribbon that Utahime put in her hair on a random Tuesday morning.
The one thing he'd been so oblivious to was the suffering that Suguru had been going through. The one thing that should've been clear to him since the start. The immense amount of blame that Satoru placed upon himself would've been too much for a regular person to handle, but he'd convinced himself that he deserved to feel like this. Convinced himself that it was only right for him to feel a fraction of the pain that Suguru must've been going through.
Satoru tortured himself mentally for days on end, thinking about what could've been different if he hadn't been so consumed with his own problems. If he would've been enough reason for Suguru to stay. Though, he liked to imagine that maybe things would've been different if he had begged, other times he wasn't too sure. But it all stems down to the same thing, if only he had noticed. If only he'd tried harder. If only. If.
Gojo attempted to put up a front, to pretend like nothing bothered him with the stupid jokes that he shared and the smiles that hurt his cheeks from how unnatural they are. Yet after a while, little cracks started to show in his otherwise perfect image. Black rings circled below his eyes, almost an unnatural look on his pale skin. Tiny crescent marks formed on his palms from how deep he dug his nails in.
He grew accustomed to hearing "Are you okay?" directed towards him, growing even more accustomed to saying yes and giving them a polite smile so he'd be left alone. Even with Shoko, he'd grown used to lying through his teeth to her. He could see the suspicion lying within her expression, but it wasn't addressed. Much like how her own pain regarding the situation wasn't addressed.
The group of four broke down as Satoru’s absence continued, the only ones left being you and shoko. He hadn't meant to push the two of you away, but a part of him couldn't fathom that the two of you could be capable of hurting the same way he was. He and Suguru were connected in a way that he'd never managed to achieve with anyone, a way that made him forget he was the strongest sorcerer for a moment.
You knocked on Professor Yaga’s door after getting called down here, listening for a 'come in' before stepping into the office. If that was even an appropriate name for the space that Yaga had. The walls almost seemed to close in as you walked inside, approaching him slowly.
Yaga was in the middle of sewing one of his dolls, barely giving you a glance as he finished up with the stitch that he had to make. "You called for me?" You asked him after a couple seconds of uncomfortable silence. You felt yourself shrink when he looked up from the task, his face completely void from emotion.
"I need you to check up on Gojo. His behavior recently has been concerning, to say the least," he put down the wool he had in hand, a stern look on his face. "I know that he's going through it, but we need him. He's been disregarding his missions and frankly, we don't really have enough resources to replace him with. Just try, please," you nodded along to what Yaga was saying, departing from his office shortly thereafter.
You stopped by town, looking through a couple shops to find some snacks that maybe Gojo would enjoy. It was a fairly simple task, he tended to enjoy any snack as long as it satiated his sweet tooth. You picked up a slice of strawberry cake and grabbed a couple pieces of kikufuku. After contemplating in front of the candy aisle, you decided to throw a bag in your basket just for safe measure. You doubted he'd pay attention to you for more than two minutes if you didn't take these.
"Hey, do you wanna come over with me over to Gojo's?" You asked Shoko after finding her in the courtyard, cigarette dangling in between her pointer and middle finger. She exhaled the smoke in her mouth, hesitating for a couple seconds. "I don't know if he wants to see me right now," she responded, glancing over at the snacks you had in a woven basket. You hadn't considered what you'd do if Gojo decided to turn you away, the thought only coming to the forefront of your mind now. "Good luck with that though."
You waved over at her, leaving to go to Gojo's dorm. The clan had arranged for his to be separate from the student body, another method of protection for the heir. Well, if he kicked you out, you'd just leave the snacks and try again, later? After all, that's really all Yaga had asked you to do. Try. You knocked on the door and waited for a couple seconds for some kind of movement. No answer. You decided to test your luck, jiggling the doorknob. The door swung open, an almost rancid smell hitting your nostrils immediately.
A couple of soda cans were thrown on the floor without any regards to where they landed and boxes of takeout littered the entrance to his dorm. You took your shoes off, setting them in a somewhat clean corner. You made a little maze to move across his dorm without making a noise, having to stretch your legs at an unnatural angle to get through. After maneuvering your way through the living room, you got to his bedroom door. You hesitated as you stood in front of it, bringing your hand up to knock. Before you got the chance to do so, you heard a loud creak from behind the room.
The door swung open like a scene from a horror movie, dust bunnies flying off the TV table when the wind blew inside. The room was on the borderline of being pitch black, some shadows appearing on the floor from the dim sunlight coming through the thick curtain. You squinted as you tried to make your way through the room, letting out a small grunt when your knee hit the corner of a desk. You rubbed your hand against the sting, walking over to the king sized bed situated in the middle of the room.
You reached out to touch him, but despite your best effort, you couldn't bring yourself to actually touch him. You were so close to him, yet he was so out of reach. The ray of light that did manage to peek through the curtains he'd pulled back accentuated how red his cheeks were, dried tear streaks on a otherwise perfect face. His face was contorted into an expression of pain, his brows furrowed while his breathing started to pick up.
"Please don't go," his ragged whispers came out, his body shaking under the thick blanket he wrapped himself in. Since you couldn't actually touch him, you decided to try out the next best thing. "Gojo, wake up. You're having a nightmare," you whispered, standing as close as you could. His eyes shot open, his breathing slowly starting to slow down as he gained consciousness of his surroundings.
"Sorry about that," he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair as he sat up. The blanket pooled by his body, unraveling his body. While Gojo had always been somewhat on the lanky side, you couldn't help but notice just how skinny he's gotten throughout these past couple weeks. Now you wished you'd brought him a meal instead of a bunch of candies. "No, you're good. The door was open and I just decided to come in, I hope you don't mind."
"Uh no, I don't mind. Just excuse the mess, haven't gotten around to cleaning it up," he told you, giving you another one of those forced smiles that you'd grown accustomed to seeing by now. You nodded, standing by his door awkwardly before attempting to offer some kind of reassurance of your own. "If there's something that I can do for you, don't hesitate to let me know."
"Actually there is something that you could do. Do you want to have sex with me?" the question caught you off guard, having expected something completely different. He'd gone from having his infinity on at all times to wanting some form of intimacy? Even through his request, you could see the hesitation lingering behind his eyes. He was forcing himself to pretend like he wanted this. "No, I don't want to."
If you were in a different situation, you might've let out a laugh at the way his jaw comedically dropped open. It was a word he wasn't used to hearing, much less from someone he was trying to get with. Half the time he didn't need to make the effort, they just said yes to whatever he suggested whenever they got a smidge of attention. "Are you not into me or something? I could've sworn i caught you staring a couple times."
Now it was your turn to have your jaw open. Well, metaphorically speaking of course. You thought you'd been discreet with the stares towards him while he was training, though you couldn't deny that maybe you looked for a couple seconds too long. You cleared your throat, pretending like he hadn't exposed the feelings you had towards him with just a single sentence. And yes, while you did want to fuck him, you didn't want it to be under these circumstances.
"I just don't think fucking me is what you need right now," you hesitated to answer, the tension between the two of you so thick that it could be broken with a knife.
"Please. I just need something to help me forget," he sounded so pitiful when he was on the brink of begging. You weren't even sure when was the last time he bothered to take a shower, his clothes being the same ones you'd seen him with a week ago. He wasn't in the right state of mind to even function properly, much less have sex.
"It's not gonna help. If anything, you're just gonna end up regretting it later."
"Please."
You remained firm in the position that you were in, holding up the basket of snacks. "I can stay with you for a while if you want, but I don't want to have sex with you while you're like this," you responded, handing over the basket once he let the suggestion go. He took the basket, grabbing the kikufaku immediately. "I thought friends were supposed to help each other out."
You wanted to argue back to him, but you decided to keep quiet. You'd excuse his behavior with the fact that he was in pain right now. Despite all that, he let you stay in his dorm for a couple more hours. The two of you sat at a distance, an invisible barrier set between the two of you. Gojo settled on a horror movie, a series he'd been talking about nonstop throughout most of the year. Even if most of the gore was unrealistic and you could see the jumpscares coming from miles away, it still felt like somewhat nice being so close to him.
Much to everyone's surprise, Gojo had managed to make it up to graduation without missing another day. You could tell too clearly that the smile he had plastered on his face for every class picture that he took was a facade, something to play off for the fact that his heart was in shambles at the absence of his best friend. He accepted every congratulations with a thank you, the words seeming to slip out with much more ease the more that he said them.
If anyone else could notice that look on his face, there was nothing said to acknowledge that fact. Mostly because a majority of the student body was facing some kind of internal issues of their own, whether it be Haibara’s death or the shock of what Geto had done. Even then, words couldn't make up for the absence that Suguru had left within him. An 'I'm sorry' wouldn't do anything towards the fact that he was still gone. Even with all the extra work he'd done to make sure he graduated on time, the fact remained. Suguru wouldn't be coming back.
Gojo could remember the conversation he had with Suguru months prior to the accident, the two of them color coordinating what their suits would be. What apartment they would get together, somewhere that was near a sweets shop. All he had left was the apartment lease in his hands, the paper straining underneath his tight grasp. While some people were eagerly sharing what their plans were for that summer, he was left staring from a distance until eventually, the ceremony came to an end. He was starting to feel a midlife crisis peeking through at just 18, of having no actual sense of direction in his life.
Frankly, Satoru wasn't a big fan of alcohol. he found that he hated the way it made him feel, from the way he felt while he was drunk to the way that he felt the next morning. It made him feel out of control, out of his own body. But, that's exactly what he found himself needing now. The first sip of sake made his throat constrict, his first instinct to throw it up. But he swallowed it down, determined to go through with this. None of the euphoria that he'd heard came with alcohol ever came for him.
The next morning, he woke up with vomit splattered all over himself and the sides of the toilet. His head pounded from the sheer amount of alcohol he'd consumed, his eyes rimmed red. "Ah fuck," he muttered, his voice coming out strained from the effort he'd put into throwing up earlier. He got up from the bathroom floor, deciding to take a shower and clean himself up. His head hung low as he stood underneath the boiling water, a reminder to himself that he was still human. That he could still feel things.
He got out of the shower after spending an ungodly amount of water, wrapping a fluffy white towel around his waist. He grabbed his phone from the pants he used last night, letting out a small groan as he saw that it was on 2%. Of course he'd forgotten to charge it last night with all the stupid shit he'd done. He looked down to see that he had a voicemail from you, barely sent half an hour ago. He clicked on it, your voice filling up the four walls of his bathroom.
"Hey Gojo, I was calling to say goodbye but you didn't answer. Uh, I'm not sure if it means a lot to you but congrats on graduating!" He could tell the little strain you put on your voice to attempt to sound somewhat cheerful but he appreciated it nonetheless.
"And since were probably not gonna see each other again, I guess I should probably admit that you had a point when you mentioned those 'longing stares.' I did have a crush on you, so I hope that doesn't make you too uncomfortable," his heart dropped down to his feet as he listened to the rest of the message, a boarding announcement.
Now he was really starting to regret the way that he acted. he had somewhat of a feeling that you had a crush on him, making you the perfect person to propose the idea of having sex to. That and the fact that he found your company to be quite nice. The day that you'd last been over to his place, the two of you had sat in silence throughout the duration of the film playing on his TV. And it wasn't uncomfortable. Sure, the fact that he'd gotten rejected had lingered in the air but he still enjoyed having your presence around.
He restarted the message over and over again until his phone died. He'd thought about different apologies that he wanted to type out while his phone was charging but every time that he got close to pressing the 'send' button, he just never did. Too corny. Too short. Too long. Too sentimental. There was an excuse for every draft that he typed out, none of them really accentuating what he wanted to tell you. He ended up deleting the drafts, setting his phone down as he buried his head in his knees.
As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you never truly felt like you belonged with the students at the Tokyo campus. Despite the fact that you'd been in the group with the trio, it never felt quite right. It felt as if Gojo and Geto were connected in a way that you and Shoko would never be able to compare to. The thought of leaving hadn't cemented into your head until you looked down at your certificate, imagining what future was left for you here. Of fighting curses with no sort of attachment for other people out of fear that they might die?
A part of you had been wishing that Satoru didn't pick up the phone after having a conversation with Shoko, yet you couldn't help but feel disappointed the second you were told to leave your voicemail. You were prolonging getting on the airplane, waiting for some kind of indication that you shouldn't go. But there was nothing holding you back. nothing to tie you down to Tokyo other than the memories you had in this place. With that, you grabbed your carry on bag and prepared to get on the plane once your group was called.
Unfortunately, Satoru had found out the hard way that you were right to reject his advances. He tried to force himself to sleep with different women to try to forget, to have something more to think about other than Suguru. And yet, he could never actually bring himself to actually go through with any of them. The flirting had brought him temporary relief, only for old memories to hit him ten times harder when he was alone. If anything, it'd made him feel even worse for attempting to use someone for his own gain.
Once he got to raise Megumi, however, he had less time to think about what he was going through and rather how to keep the tiny human alive. Satoru didn't think that it would be that hard, all he had to focus on was keeping him alive and fed. The kid had matured way faster than he really should've, uninterested in most of the things that other children were doing at his age. While the kids at the playground were busy playing hopscotch or tag, Megumi was in the corner with his head buried in a book.
It'd barely been a year since you left when Yaga’s name flashed on your screen. You were barely getting home from the store, setting your bags down before pulling your phone from your pocket. "Professor Yaga," you answered, using the title out of courtesy. "Just Yaga’s fine. Look, I was wondering how long you planned on being on this little sabbatical," he got straight to the point as he spoke, a couple voices coming from behind him. None that you recognized.
"Well, I wasn't planning on coming back to Tokyo if that's what you're asking," you responded once the noise behind him died down, a sharp exhale coming out from the other end. "Look, I wouldn't be asking if I didn't need you. Nanami went off to the world of business and whatnot, there's a dire need for professors," he spoke up, leaving no room for discussion. As much as you would've liked to stay, you decided to accept the job 'invitation.'
There weren't many things that you had left to pack up, just your clothes and your shoes. Despite how hard you tried to make this new place your 'home,' you found some type of excuse to put off unpacking your stuff completely. Whether it was that you were busy with work or that you had to do groceries. Or maybe because you were looking for an excuse such as this one, an excuse to prevent you from actually having to settle down. It no longer seemed like it was the place, but rather you.
Maybe you didn't belong anywhere.
"You have a child," your eyes widen in surprise upon seeing the kid Gojo had clinging onto his side, having caught him while you were out in the market. "I have a child," he repeated, holding the kid's hand within his own. The kid resisted at first before letting himself be held, looking up at you with an unamused expression on his face. "Megumi," the kid told you, extending his hand out. The two of you exchanged pleasantries, a short exchange of your names and a 'nice to meet you.'
"I'm dropping him off at a friend's place tonight if you want to come over and have dinner," Gojo suggested once the two of you met up at the entrance of the market. You wanted to do everything in your power to not have to be alone with him after what you'd told him during your last call, but you decided to agree. After Megumi was dropped off, the two of you drove back to his place in silence. Every time you wanted to bring something up, you decided to just leave the topic alone and continue to stare out the window.
"I wanted to apologize to you. I never found the right words to tell you, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry for trying to use you for my personal gain," the words practically flooded out of him as soon as the two of you got back home, his hands struggling to keep up with the pace he was talking in. "You don't have to apologize," you assured him, going to bring one hand over to his shoulder. Unlike the last time you tried to comfort him, you were able to touch him this time around.
"And I know you only admitted those things to me since you thought you'd never see me again but I have to tell you that you haven't left my mind since the day I lost you," he spoke slower this time around, the words lingering in the air for a few seconds after he'd finished speaking. You were speechless, your mouth opening and closing back up like a fish. "Oh," you managed to finally say, the apartment seeming to close in on you as a silence settled in.
When you'd told him that a year ago, you were convinced that he hadn't felt the same way. That you were being delusional. You knew how unavailable he was, whether it be from his job keeping him too busy or the fact that he was so different from everyone else. Now that he told you this.. you actually weren't sure what to do with this information. As much as you tried to convince yourself that you left the crush behind in Tokyo, you still found yourself thinking about him when you were alone.
His brows furrowed, immediately making you regret not having any more to say to him. "Sorry, it's just I wasn't really expecting that," you tried to quickly fix the situation, a small sigh of relief escaping from his lips. "I wanted to thank you, actually. You were right in rejecting me when you did, it wouldn't have been a pleasurable experience for the both of us," he finished up, walking closer to you. his voice dropped to a low whisper as he spoke, "But what if I said I wanted to have sex with you now?"
"Then I guess there'd be no logical reason for me to say no."
The notion of dinner was quickly forgotten. His lips were on top of yours as soon as the words escaped from your mouth, kissing you like a man depraved. He did nothing to hide the desperation radiating off his body, not that there was much he could've done. Your hands went up to his hair, tugging at the white strands as you tried to bring him impossibly closer to yourself. The kiss itself was more of a clash of tongue and teeth, but it did its job in showing the amount of need the two of you had towards each other.
He tapped on your thigh to jump, your legs wrapping around his waist with ease. He hadn't bothered to stop kissing you as he led the two of you over to his bedroom, only stopping to reach over for the doorknob. "You’ll find its more organized this time around," he spoke up, gently setting you down in silk sheets. "I'd hope so after a year," you responded, laying down with your legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He started off taking your pants, tossing them off to the side once he managed to get them off.
Satoru’s fingertips ghosted up your legs, applying only the lightest of touches. It was almost like he was committing the sight of your body to memory, of all the little scars and moles on your legs. Your slick was starting to run down to your panties, creating a wet spot right in the center. He hooked his fingers in the flimsy material of your underwear, slowly starting to slide it down.
"How do you feel about socks during sex?" The question caught you off guard, a laugh threatening to overcome your lips at how serious the question sounded. You looked down at the end of the bed where Satoru was situated, noticing that his glasses were long discarded.
"You're actually being serious?"
"Well yeah. It's a controversial topic, y'know?"
"Do what feels natural to you. You have my full consent to take my socks off if you want."
"What an answer," he muttered, sliding the black socks you had on before letting them fall on the floor. It was at that moment that you felt just how intense his stare was, seeing him completely mesmerized by finally having you in his bed.
You wanted to shut your legs upon feeling how intense his gaze was but his large fingers kept them apart. "Keep them spread for me, pretty," his voice sounded different from normal, he almost sounded desperate? His dominance over the situation was hanging on by a thread, the need to have you overtaking that desire. You felt somewhat awkward at being so exposed, but you kept your legs open for him.
Despite the attraction that women presented towards him, he never quite entertained it up to this point. A couple meaningless flirts, a few whispers of sweet nothings, Of promises that he would never imagine going through with. But this? He was completely sure that he wanted nothing more but to worship your body the way that it deserved. The way that he'd been dreaming about since he found out you shared the same feelings he did towards you.
He was going off what he viewed as something natural, from what he'd heard from other people. He leaned down, pressing his lips on your ankles as he left an open mouth kiss on it. His other hand raked up and down your left leg while his mouth explored every inch that your right leg had to offer. Based on the way that your breathing was steadily starting to pick up the more he moved up, he was guessing he was doing a pretty alright job at this.
You let out a small gasp at feeling his finger sink inside of you, his large fingers filling you up with ease. He pulled them out, dragging out the action before revealing his fingers completely coated in your slick. He swirled his tongue around his fingers, almost like he wanted to savor the taste of you. And in a way, he did. Every piece of candy that he'd eaten paled to compare to how sweet your essence was.
"Would've tried harder last time if I knew you tasted that good," he told you, his fingers finding their way to your cunt again. "What makes you so sure I would've relented?" You challenged, the last bit of defiance dying out as you felt his pointer finger find your clit with ease. You were sure that if he pressed his finger on it, he'd be able to feel just how much it throbbed for some kind of attention. You bit down on your lip, unwilling to give him that satisfaction of knowing how much he affected you.
"Given how wet you are now, it wouldn't have been that much of a challenge," he responded with a cocky grin, letting out a small chuckle at the way you rolled your eyes. He slid his pointer finger, curling it to find your g-spot. "Got it," he whispered, noticing the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your slick coated his fingers every time that he pushed his fingers inside of you, your walls clenching at the motion.
He brought his mouth down to your breasts, watching them harden at just the slightest breeze flowing through his apartment. He took the left one in his mouth, your hand immediately coming down to his hair. Your grip on the white strands tightened as you felt his tongue roll around your hardened nipple, your legs instinctively shutting around his hand. He didn't stop fingering you, opening your legs with his other hand.
You were approaching your orgasm rapidly, the knot inside of your stomach starting to tighten. Moans escaped from your mouth in a slew of curses or small whimpers of his name. All which sounded like the most angelic music to his ears. "There we go, I got you," he whispered, looking up at you as he tugged on your nipple with his teeth. You started to move away from him as you felt yourself on the brink of your orgasm, though the grip that he had on your hip made it impossible to do so.
The knot inside of you snapped with a thrust of his fingers, your cunt soaking his fingers with your release. He pulled them out, the juices making his fingers glisten underneath the moonlight. He brought them over to his mouth once more, savoring the way that you tasted. Maybe one day he'd get to have a proper taste of you. But for now, all that he wanted was to feel the way your walls clenched around his cock. He leaned in, your lips parting as he kissed you. all so you could taste yourself.
His lips went down to your jawline, planting a couple open mouthed kisses before he moved down to your neck and collarbone. While his touch was nothing short of delightful, you were starting to grow needy. You bucked your hips against him to try to get some kind of friction, your attempts dismissed with a chuckle. "Please," you spoke up, his lips pressed against your stomach. You wanted some kind of mercy, some kind of relief.
He didn't seem to do that, though. Satoru continued to ignore your pleas, his fingers barely moving along your thighs as he resumed with kissing your body. He almost seemed like he basked in making you into a desperate mess for him, on the borderline of begging him to do something. "Touch me," you whispered, trying to move your hips to meet his fingers. One of his hands went over to your hip, holding you down. "I'm sure you can ask better than that, no?"
Damn him. Damn the way that he looked at you while he said that, pale blue eyes almost shining underneath the moonlight. He looked at you with fascination, curious to see what it is that made your body tick and what made you lose your composure. And damn yourself for not being able to resist. To be fair, you don't know how anyone could possibly resist him in this situation.
"..Please touch me," you muttered, unable to speak louder if you even tried. His finger prodded at your entrance, only sticking the tip before retracting it once more. You felt yourself clench around nothing, your desperation growing tenfold. "I can't hear you properly. Come on and speak louder for me, princess."
You wanted to slap the stupid smirk off his face, but the rational part of you knew that the longer you dragged this out, the longer it'd take for you to receive some kind of relief. "Please touch me," you spoke a bit louder this time, the words hitting his ears with ease this time around. Despite the fact, he stayed in the same position he was in. "I thought I was touching you already. Be more specific."
You let out an exasperated huff, looking over at him to realize he was being serious. His fingers applied featherlight touches onto your inner thighs thighs, barely moving towards your wet cunt before abruptly pulling them away. "Please fuck me," you relented after a couple seconds of internal debate, his fingers pulling away from your thighs. You were about to open your mouth to complain from the loss of contact until you realized what he was doing.
Satoru did quick work of removing his pants and boxers, his cock hitting his stomach once it was released from its confines. As weird as it was to admit it, he had a pretty dick. White tufts of hairs leading from his abdomen to his pelvis were trimmed down to a manageable length, his happy trail looking all too inviting. Pre cum leaked from his reddened bulbous tip, leaking down his shaft and some onto the floor.
"There's some lube and condoms in the first cabinet if you could get those for me," he spoke up, pointing with his lips over to the night stand next to you. You handed him over the bottle of lube, feeling the cold liquid running down your folds a few seconds later. A small shiver went down your spine, your cunt clenching around pure air in anticipation. "We don't have to use a condom if you don't want to," you spoke up, watching as he lathered lube onto his shaft.
"You sure?"
You nodded before answering his question, “I'm on birth control and i'm clean." he set the condom off to the side, his hands coming onto your legs. He brought you closer to himself, aligning his cock with your entrance. Despite the fact that he'd worked you open with his fingers and there was an extra level of lubrication involved, you couldn't help but feel nervous once the size of his cock registered in your head. How was he going to fit?
Almost as if he could sense the worry emanating off you, he gently rubbed your thighs. "I’ll take it slow, don't worry," he assured you, slowly pushing the tip in. His head lolled back at the sensation of your walls fluttering around the tip, a small groan escaping from his lips. The sheets rustled underneath your fingers, your grip on them tightening with every inch that he pushed inside you. The sensation between your legs was starting to get uncomfortable, your walls stretching past their limits.
"Stop for a moment," you choked out, his movements halting immediately. He brought his hand over to yours, his fingers intertwining yours. In a way, that small gesture took you out of your head and brought you back to the moment. I'm sorry," you looked over at him, feeling his cock twitching inside of you. He wiped one of the tears running down your face with his thumb, leaning in and pressing his lips against your forehead. "Don't apologize. We have all night."
Satoru was glad that you asked for a break. He'd resorted to thinking about a cursed spirit he had to fight earlier so he wouldn't blow his load upon the first thrust. The way that your walls clenched around him, like they never wanted to let his cock go was almost too much for him to bear. "So, How'd your day go today?" He decided to ask, wanting to make you a bit more comfortable in this situation. One of the questions you weren't expecting while having a dick inside of you.
“It was good,” you responded, taking a couple deep breaths to calm yourself down. The two of you got into a conversation of what’d you’d done for the day. Eventually, the pain in your vagina started to contort into need. The need for pleasure, for some kind of friction. "You can move," you spoke up after a couple seconds, letting out a gasp as his cock unsheathed from your cunt. He slid back inside, the tip of his cock hitting spots that most of your vibrators couldn't touch.
His rhythm started off slow, his main concern being on getting you adjusted to the sensation. Despite how much he'd thought about this moment, how much he wanted to claim your body as his, he decided that he would be patient. Your pleasure was miles above his own right now. He'd wait until you were comfortable enough to ask him for more. His thrusts were slow but deep, molding your cunt to the shape of his cock. With each thrust that he took, he made sure to hit your g-spot every time to have your toes curling and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
"Faster, please," you moaned, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. He placed both hands on your hips, his balls slapping against your ass every time that he pushed his cock inside of you. The tip of his cock went deeper inside of you each time, your hand clinging onto his as your body shook underneath his. "Such a pretty cunt. Just made for me to fuck you," he babbled, moving one of his hands over to your clit. His thumb started to rub the nub in small circles, matching it to the pace he was setting.
You weren't sure if you wanted him to stop or keep going, the pleasure inside of you felt almost overwhelming. Your orgasm felt much more different this time around. Your body convulsed as you felt the pressure inside of you build up, your cunt gushing when he pulled out. Your release squirted out of you, leaking down your thighs and spraying up to wet his legs. "That was so fucking hot," he groaned, his cock twitching as he moved inside of you once more. The euphoria you felt from your orgasm was something you'd never felt before.
His thrusts started to grow sloppier by the second, a groan escaping his lips as he started to cum. A mixture of his fluid and yours leaked down onto the bedsheets below, your cunt filled up to the brim. He pulled out slowly with a squelch, the sight of you full of his cum almost being enough to give him a hard on again. He took a couple seconds to regain his breath, getting off the bed before walking over to the bathroom.
You wouldn't deny that a part of you was expecting for him to kick you out, that your time together was finished. He emerged from the bathroom with a white towel, getting in between your legs. He cleaned you up, wiping the fluid leaking down your thighs with more gentleness than you'd expected. "You don't have to go yet if you don't want to. I have some ice cream in the fridge to share if you wanna stay and watch something."
"Surprised you're willing to share."
"I guess I can make the sacrifice just this once. Just for you, though."
He walked over to his dresser, grabbing a white tee before placing it next to you. "The dress you're wearing isn't exactly ideal to spend the night in," he told you, as if that was enough explanation. Well, in a way it was. It was his way of asking you to spend the night over without actually having to do so. "If you didn't want me to leave, you could've said so," you called out after him as he left the room, getting up to put the shirt over yourself. You grabbed your panties off from the floor, sliding them back on.
He came back with two bowls of ice cream, a reasonable amount for you and the bowl filled to the brim for himself. "Wonder how you haven't gotten diabetes yet," you pondered out loud, grabbing the bowl once he passed it over. "If I do, I'll just use RCT," he responded, setting the bowl of ice cream down on his nightstand. He grabbed a clean bedsheet from his closet, pulling the soiled ones off before setting in the black silk sheets down.
He grabbed his ice cream before getting in the bed after you did. He wrapped an arm around you, the bowl of ice cream now situated in between his legs. The two of you got into a debate about what movie you wanted to watch, eventually just settling on a comedy that the two of you would enjoy. He held you close to his body as the movie started, a warm blanket pulled up to cover the two of you.
Despite the fact that his hands were all over you earlier, this was the most rewarding part of spending this time with him. His hands were wrapped around you, holding you close to his body while the movie played in the background. There was no invisible barrier separating the two of you anymore. In a way, you felt even closer to him now rather than when he was inside of you.
"What's on your mind?" He broke the silence, grabbing white bandages from his nightstand before wrapping them around his eyes. You finally felt as though you belonged somewhere for once. That place being beside satoru. "Nothing too serious," you assured him, resting your head against his head. He stole some of your ice cream, no complaints coming from you though. If a bit of ice cream was something you had to share, then there would be no problem.
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