#i can't bear to remove him... </3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pedroscurls · 1 month ago

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at your pleasure (one-shot)

summary: din didn't need a partner, but he can't deny the fact that having you around has helped him complete his missions much faster. after din messes up a mission (which rarely happens), the truth finally comes out.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x fem!reader content warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ ONLY MDNI), unprotected p in v, din keeps the helmet on (obviously), fingering, oral (m! receiving), edging, bondage (din ties reader up), light choking, creampie (oops! maybe? be safe y'all), no use of y/n. word count: 4.1k a/n: please bear with me! this is my first time writing for din ever so i really hope that i captured his characterization to the best of my ability. this is also part of @mushgloomz ppcu smut writing challenge! i got din djarin, trope: colleagues, with edging and bondage. please heed the warnings, it's gonna be a filthy one <3

“You almost died,” you tell him, bringing him back to the Razor Crest with one of his arms draped around your shoulders. He’s leaning against you and he turns his head to look at you—have you always been this attractive?

“But I didn’t,” he answers.

“Yeah, because I was there to save your ass.” You shake your head and gently set him down on the edge of your mattress. “Let me just get your bacta spray and you’ll be good as new.”

“Don’t need you to take care of me.”

“Well, your actions say otherwise. Stay here. Don’t go anywhere.”

Din just huffs and grunts in response. From underneath the helmet, he lets his eyes deviate to your ass when you walk away. He wouldn’t admit it but you had distracted him. The mission started out like any other mission—he would hide in the shadows while you did the talking. Your beauty always seemed to get most of their attention so rarely did it ever turn violent. He also knew that you could handle your own—he’s seen it plenty of times.

But tonight… Tonight was different. He didn’t know when he had started to look at you differently, but when he saw the man get a little too close and touchy for his liking, he ended up ruining the entire plan.

And the man ended up getting away.

It was just a mess, and it was his fault.

By the time you come back, his hands are resting on the was edge of your mattress. His shoulder is in pain, blood soaking through the fabric—it would be his fucking luck that he’d get stabbed just right next to his armor.

“You know the drill,” you say, motioning towards his armor. “I’ll turn around but you need to let me do this.”

“I can do it myself.”

“We lost the bounty because of you, Din!”

Din. He tightens his jaw—he should be angry at you that you’re using his name, but instead he’s angry with himself. Mainly because his body is reacting to the way his name leaves your lips.

“We’ll get him.”

You sigh quietly and turn around. “What got into you tonight anyway?”

“Nothing.” He answers, standing up to remove his armor until he’s clad in just his undergarments. He places the helmet back over his face and clears his throat. “You can turn back around.”

You nod to yourself and turn around—your eyes linger on his frame. He’s always been so broad with the armor on, but even clad in just his pants and tank top, he’s so much more muscular, so big, so—

“Don’t have all night,” he interrupts.

You roll your eyes and walk up to him, standing between his legs when he sits back down on the edge of your bed. He keeps his hands resting on his lap as your fingers delicately—gently—touch his skin.

“This might sting,” you warn him.

“Used to it.”

“Seriously, Din…” you sigh. “What happened tonight? We’ve done this so many times.”

“Nothing,” he repeats. “Now, can you get on it with it?”

You tighten your jaw and without warning, release the spray onto his skin. His large hand comes up to grip your hip instantly.

“Fuck,” he growls.

“You said you were used to it.”

Din looks up at you from his helmet, tilting his head slightly as his jaw tightens. His hand on your hip remains and you clear your throat as you stare down at him.

“Was it because he was getting too close to me?” You ask quietly.

“No,” he answers quickly.

“Din…”

“You’re a distraction,” he interrupts.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“How am I a distraction? We’ve handled so many other bounties without any issue before!” You exclaim, glancing down at his hand which only seems to tighten even further around your hip.

“Didn’t want a partner. Didn’t need one,” he says, ignoring your question.

“Yeah, we established that already.” You roll your eyes. “But we both know that you’re making twice as much as you are now because you have me.”

“You’re just getting too friendly and—”

“Just stop, Din.” You shake your head, taking a step back from him as his hand drops from your hip. You find that you miss his touch—you always had felt something for him but he had always seemed so out of reach.

He stands from your bed and looks down at you. “You need to know when to stop.”

“Stop?” You ask, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“He was getting too close to you,” Din admits.

“It’s always part of the plan, Din,” you sigh. “And if he crossed a line, you know I would’ve handled him.”

“Didn’t like him touching what’s mine,” he whispers. He gazes at you from behind the helmet, hands itching to reach out to you.

You clear your throat. You can feel your cheeks heating up and even if you’ve never seen what he’s looked like, you can’t help but still feel so attracted to him. Your body reacts to his words—wetness beginning to pool between your legs, throbbing and yearning for him.

“W–What?” You don’t move, watching him near closer and closer to you. “Yours?”

“Yes,” he mumbles. Din reaches up, gently brushes his gloved-clad hand across your cheek. He sees your lips part and there’s a part of him that wishes he can feel your lips on his, can have you gaze into his eyes.

But he can’t.

He cannot show his face.

“Din…” you whisper. Your heart races faster and you feel his thumb brush against your lower lip.

“He was touching you,” Din grunts lowly. “And you let him.”

“It was part of the plan,” you repeat. “It’s always part of the plan.”

“Not like this. You seemed to like it.”

Then, he drops his hand from your cheek and grips your hips, turning you around as he firmly presses himself behind you. He leans forward—the coolness of his helmet a relieving sensation along the side of your neck. Your body’s on fire and you can feel his hardening length pressing into you from behind.

“Din,” you whimper, pushing back against him. You can hear his muffled grunt from behind the helmet. “I was just playing my part… like I always do.”

Din clears his throat and reaches around you, hand coming up to wrap around your throat. He doesn’t apply pressure, but he can hear you inhale sharply. You’re still squirming against him, the roll of your hips and your ass firmly pressed against his front causing his other hand to grip your hip tightly.

“You like the attention, don’t you?” He whispers.

“Only from you,” you finally admit. “I just wanted your attention. Only yours. Always yours.”

Din bites back a smile and his hand moves from your throat down to your chest, brushing against your breasts as he skates his hand down between your legs. “You are a distraction,” he repeats. “It’s becoming harder with you around.”

“What is?” You tease, moving a hand behind you—palm brushing against his hard and impressive length. “This?”

“Don’t be smart,” he growls. “You’re the only one I ever pay attention to,” Din admits. “It’s dangerous. You are dangerous.” Suddenly, he turns you around to face him and your hand still continues its movement—he’s glad that you can’t see his face because his eyes flutter at the sensation of your hand palming him.

“And you’re not?” You ask, increasingly gaining more and more confidence. You pull your hand away and gently push him back until he falls back onto your bed. He looks up in your direction, head tilting as you watch his hand move down to squeeze himself—you can visibly see the outline of his length and it causes a pulsating throb between your legs.

“I’m not,” he huffs.

“You are.” You answer, watching him kick off his boots before he moves further up on your bed until he’s sitting up and resting against the headboard. You wish you could see his face, his eyes because you begin to pull the ends of your tank top over your head, revealing that you were completely bare underneath.

“See, dangerous,” he points out, nodding in your direction. Din clears his throat as he watches you push your pants down your legs. Once you stand completely bare and naked for him, he slowly begins to push his own pants down his legs.

“Not my fault you can’t focus,” you quip back, slowly climbing onto the bed.

“I can focus just fine,” he grunts. Din sits back against your headboard—now clad in boxers and fitted tank-top as his large hand squeezes his hardening length.

“Yeah?” You ask teasingly, slowly crawling over to him. You can’t see his face, but you can see the rise in his chest, the grip he has around himself as he squeezes once again.

“Yes,” he whispers quietly. He lets out a low groan when he feels you straddle his waist. Din can feel the wetness between your legs when you firmly sit on his lap, right on top of his growing erection. He lowers his gaze to your breasts, bringing his large hands to your hips. He slowly feels your hips roll against him and he whimpers, the grip around your hips tightening.

“Liar,” you whisper, lowering your head to gently move your lips across his shoulder and to his collarbone. When your teeth grazes his soft skin, you feel him flip you over onto your back as he hovers above you. You stare up at him, watching his head tilt and you hesitantly reach up to rest a hand on the side of his helmet. His hand darts out to grip your wrist and your eyes immediately soften—hoping that he can see that he will always be safe with you.

Then, you catch him off guard when you press your lips on his helmet. He feels his breath catch in his throat as he loosens the grip around your wrist. “Din,” you whisper.

“Hm?”

“Do you know how much I have thought of this? Of you?” You move your hand and grab his own, bringing it down between your legs. He hesitates—almost like he’s unsure that you really want this but when he feels your slickened folds, something overtakes him.

His eyes stay directly on you—watching your mouth slightly part when he slowly begins to circle your clit. Then, he hears you let out a quiet moan and it fuels him even further. “Tell me,” he finally answers.

Your hands move to grip your sheets—it has been such a long time since you’ve felt someone else’s touch. Your own fingers definitely don’t feel as good as Din’s. There’s a part of you that’s afraid to tell him—afraid that he might realize that there’s no coming back from this.

And you certainly don’t want him to stop.

Your eyes flutter when you feel him apply a bit of pressure to your clit and you’re about to reach out to rest your hands on his shoulders when you feel him grab your wrists and pin them above your head. Your moans filter your small room and it fuels him further—turning his hand slightly so that the tip of his middle finger slowly slides past your folds.

“Tell me,” he repeats.

“Din—baby,” you whimper, squirming against his grip as you roll your hips upwards—a sign that you need more.

Din grunts lowly and slides his finger past the knuckle. He can feel how tight and how wet you are and the grip around your wrists tighten even further. “Tell me,” he whispers. “Tell me how much you’ve thought about this, about me.”

Your eyes fall shut and you nod in agreement, feeling him slowly begin to pump his finger in and out of your depths slowly. “T—The way you just walk into a room,” you begin, toes beginning to curl when you feel him slide another finger inside of you. “The way you walk—you know that you’re valuable and oh god—”

“Keep going,” he demands.

“And your voice, Din,” you continue. “I know I—I won’t ever get the chance to hear it for real, but fuck!” He quickens his movements—the sounds of his fingers thrusting into your wet heat mixing in with your moans. “I—I just want you to use me,” you admit. “I know there are nights you can’t sleep, days where you can use some release and I wish—I wish you could see that I’m more than willing—”

Din’s fingers immediately slide out of you and he looks down—your glistening arousal around his middle and ring finger. He pushes down his boxers, letting out a groan of relief and he looks up at you hesitantly. He should feel very shy and uncomfortable under your gaze, but instead he feels the complete opposite. He’s clad in only a white tank top and his helmet, but your eyes take in every inch of his frame. He knows that opening himself like this with another person is dangerous—he knows that you are dangerous—but he can’t help himself.

“You want me to use you?” he asks.

You nod, biting your lower lip as you stare up at him. “I’m at your mercy, Din.”

From behind the helmet, Din’s eyes soften. He releases his hold on your wrists and moves his hands to your hips, lifting you further up the bed until the top of your head is near the headboard. He then climbs off your bed, leaving your room without a word. You furrow a brow, sitting up your elbows as you sigh, staring at the opened door. You think you must have scared him away, but just as you’re about to follow him, he reappears with a rope in his hand and now only clad in his helmet.

You clear your throat, heart racing faster in anticipation. You look at him from top to bottom—his tanned skin, chiseled with muscle, hair across his chest down towards his lower half where he’s completely erect and leaking at the tip.

“Are you sure?” he asks, continuing the conversation before he had left your room.

“Yes,” you answer almost breathlessly.

Din nods once and walks back in your direction. He climbs back onto the bed, straddling your midsection as he takes your hands and begins tying you to the headboard. “Not too tight?” he asks.

You shake your head, licking your lips as you keep your eyes focused on his hardened manhood that’s inches away from your mouth. “No,” you answer.

“Good.”

You’re about to whine in protest, thinking that he’s going to settle back between your legs, but he surprises you by reaching down with one of his large hands to grasp himself in front of you. His knees are placed on the bed at either side of your chest as his free hand rests on the headboard above you. Slowly, he pushes himself forward until his tip—leaking with precome—rests on your lips. You can’t help but grin excitedly as you part your lips, tongue darting out to lap at his precome. You keep your eyes focused up on him—even though you can’t see his face, you can see the way his chest rises when he inhales sharply at the feel of your mouth now wrapping around his tip.

Din forces to keep his eyes open, wanting to remember this moment for the rest of his life. You lift your head slightly off the bed to take more of him and he gets the hint, pushing his hips further as a few more inches slide into your warm mouth. He reaches back behind him, his fingers finding your clit almost instantly. As he begins to circle your throbbing bundle of nerves, the moan that leaves your lips sends vibrations through him. Involuntarily, he pushes even further, the tip of his manhood tickling the back of your throat and your choke around him out of instinct—he pulls away and tilts his head down at you.

“Too much?” he asks quietly, chest heaving.

“Not enough,” you answer and then lean forward to wrap your lips around him again.

Din groans and pushes his hips slightly forward into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around him and another moan escapes your lips when you feel him slide two of his thick fingers into your heat. This time, though, Din pushes even further into your mouth and he watches as your eyes fall shut. God, he could have come right there at the sight of you—mouth filled with his thick and girthy length.

He can tell that you’re enjoying this as much as he is—the squelching wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you a clear indication that you’re becoming increasingly and increasingly wet with his manhood in your mouth. Din pulls out of your mouth again when he feels your walls begin to tremble around his fingers and your back arches upwards, but as soon as your orgasm arrives, he pulls his fingers out of you and a loud whine catches in the back of your throat.

“Din!”

A quiet and amused chuckle leaves his lips. “You said I could use you,” he grins. “Didn’t say how.”

“P—Please,” you beg. “I was right there and—”

“Consider it payback,” he answers, slowly moving to settle himself between your legs. His length is glistening with your saliva and he grasps himself to line the head of his manhood at your opening. “For distracting me.”

Just as those words leave his lips, Din thrusts into you fully—burying himself into the hilt. You’re so tight and so wet—so warm and he can feel your walls throbbing around him. His large hands move to your breasts, slowly beginning to caress both into the pit of his palms as he pulls out to his tip only to thrust back into you roughly—it causes your breasts to bounce in his grip.

“F—Fuck,” you moan out breathlessly. You’re already right near the edge and you wrap your legs around his hips in hopes to keep him sheathed inside of you. Even though his thick length is stretching you from the inside, the pressure and slight pain disappears instantly.

He brushes his thumbs across your peaked nipples—it’s at this moment Din wishes that he could remove his helmet to wrap his lips around one of them. He squeezes and your back arches further into his touch. Din moves his hands down your sides to grip your hips as he continues to drive into you—it’s like he’s fucking you into your bed, chasing more of your tight and wet walls that slide along every vein across his length.

He suddenly feels you clench around him and Din immediately ceases his movements, causing another whimper to escape your lips. You stare up at him, eyes glazed over in a mixture of pleasure and frustration. From behind the helmet, he smirks to himself as he reaches down to brush his thumb across your clit. You shudder in response and when you roll your hips upwards for more friction, he shakes his head and uses his free hand to hold your hips down.

“Impatient,” he mumbles. “And eager, aren’t you?”

“S—Stop teasing,” you whine. “And just fuck me already.”

Another amused chuckle leaves his lips. “I don’t think you’re the one in control here, are you?”

“Shouldn’t have told you the truth,” you mutter.

“No?” Din asks, slowly rubbing your clit in circles with his thumb. Your eyes flutter and you pull your lower lip between your teeth.

The tightness in the pit of your stomach builds even further and you can feel your walls clench around his manhood that remains inside of you. You’re so fucking close and your body begins to tremble—maybe if you listen, maybe if you just submit to him completely he’d finally let you come.

But he wasn’t your boss.

You both were equals.

He was your colleague and you saved his ass tonight.

“Fuck, Din!” you snap in frustration. “I—I need you to fuck me. Or is this all you got? Hm? Been a while for you that you don’t know how to—”

He growls loud enough for you to hear and he moves his hand back to your hip. He grips it tightly and without wasting another second, he begins to pound into you. The sound of his skin slapping against yours echoes throughout the room and into the rest of his ship—you can feel the bed creak with each of his movements and your breasts bounces with each push.

Din slowly moves a hand up to wrap around your throat and you smirk, the corner of your lips lifting when he lightly applies pressure. He looks down between your bodies, watching his length disappear in and out of you—still so slick with your arousal.

Your walls begin to clench around him and Din doesn’t let up. You feel almost breathless as your climax fast approaches. You shut your eyes tightly as your body begins to tremble—you’d never come as hard as this and Din’s thrusts don't falter and it almost becomes too much. Almost.

“This is what you wanted, huh?” Din groans, the feeling of your clenched walls milking him closer and closer to his own release. “Is this what you think about when we’re debriefing on a mission, hm?” He pounds into you and you’re so wet that your arousal seeps through where you’re both connected and begins to dampen the hair at his base. It’s so obscene and he can’t help but want more.

“Or when we’re planning our next one?” Din lets out a quiet moan and he glances up at your wrists, seeing you try to wiggle yourself free. He grins and leans down, removing his hand from your throat as he rests his forehead against your own. He can see the way your breaths fog up his helmet from the outside and your moans continue to filter throughout the room. He’s going to remember this—every inch of your body, every sound you’re making, and the way your body just gives way to him.

It’s like you were made for him.

“Din, baby,” you whimper, feeling another orgasm fast approaching.

That was all it took. The way you said his name, the way you called him baby, it shoots straight to his lower half. His hips falter and become more erratic, but he feels your walls clench around him once more. He has no time to ask where you want it, but he assumes that you’d be fine with him finishing inside from the way your legs wrap around his hips and bring him even further into you.

Din moves his hands to the headboard as he delivers one sharp thrust, his warmth shooting inside of you and painting your walls. His chest heaves rapidly as his own orgasm overtakes him—his length twitching inside of you as his entire body shivers at his own release.

He looks down at you and he can’t help the smile that lines his lips when he sees you stare up at him with a look of bliss across your features. You’re both sweaty, bodies glistening and he slowly pulls out of you. He looks down between your legs and watches his come trickle out of you—it causes something animalistic inside of him because he grasps his length, gathers some of his spilled come and pushes back inside of you.

You whimper, eyes widening slightly in surprise and he reaches up to undo the rope around your wrists. When your hands are finally free from its bondage, he lets out a quiet moan when he feels your touch on his chest—right near his beating heart.

“Din,” you whisper.

“Hm?”

“We’re definitely doing that again.”

“Yeah?” he asks.

“But this time, maybe I tie you up,” you grin.

Din let outs a quiet chuckle. “We’ll see, baby.”

Baby—you smile at that and you lean up to press your lips lightly on his helmet. “You know I won’t take this off, right?”

Din nods. “I know.”

“And I trust you.”

“I know,” he repeats. “And I trust you,” he admits. “Which makes you dangerous.”

You roll your eyes playfully and slowly roll your hips. You bite your lower lip as your eyes flutter—even as he’s beginning to soften inside of you, he’s still so thick that it causes a quiet moan to leave your lips. “Dangerous or not, Din,” you whisper. “I’d lay my life on the line for you.”

Din groans and brings a hand up to your cheek, thumb brushing across your soft skin. He wishes he can kiss you, can feel your lips on his but when he brushes his thumb across your lower lip, you gently press a soft kiss on the pad of his thumb.

“I suppose I have a partner from now on,” he says.

“And I guess I’m stuck with you,” you sigh playfully—lips pulled into a genuine smile.

You don’t know it, but Din smiles so broadly that for once, he feels like this can be the start of something great.

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felibrary · 1 year ago

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wish you were sober

synopsis: in which you drunkenly confess to aventurine and he doesn’t believe you, rather believing that he’s not worthy, less even deserving of your love. despite that, his insecurity, you're under the belief that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. love - something that you want to introduce to him and show him “what it means to love you.”

pairing: aventurine x reader | wordcount: 2.3k (i’ve gone insane) | content & warnings: hurt/comfort, alcohol; they're both drunk, insecure aventurine, unestablished relationship, they label themself as friends but reader barely knows anything abt him LMFAO, dual pov, DO YALL GET THE REFERENCE IN THE SYNOPSIS LMFAO??, rushed ending icl, half assed-ly proofread; oneshot

a/n: yesterday i listened to wish you were sober by conan gray and was like “damn.. this’d fit sunday” but then i asked azul what he thinks cause i couldn’t decide between su**day and <aventurine3. and they replied with that it’d be so much more angsty with aventurine (okay not quote on quote but you get the msg) and i dislike su**ay anyway!! so boom! (y’all are still getting another sunday fic..yay..ig.....)

tags: beloved @azullumi <3 and @cherieiu (stop punching me)

“i love you.”

your confession doesn't come over as surprising for aventurine, he anticipated it. just like how the ebb awaits the flood, yearning for it but disappearing as soon as it arrives. missing out on each other for just a split second, as the other party sweeps and slips away from the grasp of the other. nevertheless aventurine is glued to his seat on the rich sofa.

colorful poker chips are splattered around the rich mahogany floor tiles, bottles of vodka and wine, some already with their cork removed and empty, others who haven't even been opened yet. a chandelier adorning the ceiling of the big room, its lightbulbs glowing dimly in the caliginous room, illuminating it.

one of the lamps flickers while the others continue to shine brightly - too brightly aventurine thinks, if he were to watch them any longer he’d feel like melting. the closer he got to you the sun, the deeper he'd fall into the bottomless pit he managed to crawl out of.

the room reeks of alcohol. is the temperature rising? he feels like every time the last number on the digital clock changes the warmer it gets. his blond bangs stick to his forehead and beads of sweat are running down his flushed cheeks - that answers his question.

it’s hot - humid even. he's not sure if he's able to bear the heat in this narrow atmosphere any longer. he tries to blow the sweat away by waving at his face with his hand, trying to cool off his face - a futile attempt. god, what's this a/c even good for, if it can't do it's damn job.

he opens his mouth with the intent of wanting to say that you're lying, that you shouldn't say stuff like that when you're drunk and that you'll regret later. but he doesn't, he refrains from doing so. instead he gulps down the words immediately, letter for letter. they're a bitter pillow to swallow. flowing down his throat like the wavering water running down a stream - intoxicating, similar to the alcoholic liquid you've downed.

the blond looks at you through half lidded eyes. you lift yourself off the ground, he takes notice that you have a hard time doing so, legs slightly trembling as you remove them from the floor tiles. (you've always been a lightweight he thinks)

as you make your way over to him, standing up and wanting to sit yourself next to him on the large black leather sofa. you clumsily bump against one of the almost empty shot glasses that still lies on the floor. tripping over the small glass as your foot comes in contact with it. the glass that still contained some of the red wine you've poured in, not too long ago, tumbles as easily as a domino tile, falling upon the smallest touch. making the flimsy piece immediately meet the ground.

it breaks into a few sharp shards and the remaining alcohol starts seeping out of it, staining your once white socks with crimson colored alcohol. “ah m’sorry!” you mumble as you quickly bend down to gingerly pick up the fragments, placing them in the palm of your hand carefully, so that they won't cut you and leave slits.

aventurine takes another peek at you as you tidy up. your face is flushed, your cheeks tinted in a bright red and you let out incoherent sorrys, blabbering incomplete phrases. he wants to tell you that it's alright. that he feels the same and reciprocates yours feelings, that you don't have to apologize and he'll help you.

but he freezes.

the words that he wants to tell you, the ones he's been longing to say don't leave his mouth. neither does he move. instead he coughs, continuing to watch you while you clean up. a tissue has found its way into your right hand, helping you soak up the alcohol. (its his hand that should be intertwined with yours, not the tissue)

his throat hurts.

(he's not in the right mindspace to acknowledge if it's because of you - the unsaid words that he didn't reveal to you yet or because of the alcohol.)

it's dry and lacks any kind of refreshing liquid that'd quench the drought that occurs in his throat. he contemplates, thinking about the choices he has. swallowing down his own spit isn't worth it, it makes his throat burn even more.

he comes to the decision to pour himself another glass of alcohol. (debatably his worst decision until now.)

twirling the almost translucent liquid in his glass, before fully gulping it down in one go. a bit of the alcohol escapes the depths of his mouth, running down his chin and messily staining his porcelain-like skin.

he doesn't like the bitter taste, he can't seem to befriend himself with it. (neither can he befriend him with himself) although it's not the worst, he's just not able to find a reason to like it. after all, after a single sip it starts to sting as it enters his mouth.

the scent isn't great either, it smells strong, too strong for his liking, a scent that reeks of cleaning detergent and not to mention, it prickles on his tongue and burns as it slides down his throat when it makes its way into his blood. but there's one thing aventurine can't deny: it's efficiency.

it fulfills its purpose well making him lightheaded and dizzy, to the point of forgetting everything.

all sounds are drowned out. even the lame pop songs playlist you turned on because you insisted that “it'll set the right mood” is barely audible for him now. his ears hurt hellish, he wants to put his hands over his ears to escape the white noise. the sound that plays in his ears is similar to the one of when an airplane starts boarding - an unpleasant noise.

the only sound that remains for aventurine’s slightly drunk state is your voice. it echoes through his ears. your drunk confession playing over and over in his mind like a broken record, anticipating the day it'll be fixed, so the misery it is in ceases.

his sloppy and sluggish movements - the way his hands tremble as he pours himself another glass, the nervousness that forms inside his body and the blush that spreads as quickly as a wildfire on his cheeks - they're tormenting him, and he blames none other than the alcohol for it.

“a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, drunk words are sober thoughts, when you're drunk you reveal your true desires” his ass. the both of you are just friends. friends that are acquainted through work, nothing more, nothing less. aventurine couldn't bear to lose his only friend, after all he's already lost everything.

(anything he'd never want to lose will eventually be lost. it is as if fate had decided that everything that is worth wanting, everything that he wants to have and keep, will be lost the moment he gets his fingers on it. to aventurine there’s nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life that is full of anguish.)

his father whom he never got to meet, his mother and sister whom he was forced to leave behind and kakavasha, his younger self. all will be lost - everything was lost. if he wasn't careful now, one slip up on the thin ice or feet accidentally trampling over the floor full of eggshells, he'd not only lose himself in the process, but you too. his one and only friend.

crossing this line he set for himself, as he drew it along the earthy ground with his calloused fingers, trembling as they traced over the mud.

walking past the border that was created to keep everything and everyone distant from him, as he stood on the other side turning his back from the world, walking away and waving, to bid his goodbye from them.

the wall he built around him to shield him from the world, protecting everyone from the ugly thing that was kept inside , protecting himself from the people that only want to torment him.

forgetting all of these things, leaving them behind for you would mean showing you who he really was. a frail human being that hides himself behind a mask. the theater curtains revealing the person who played the role of the man who had called himself aventurine for the past years. placing him in the spotlight and giving the audience a show they'll never forget, like the fool he is.

aventurine doesn't think that he is loveable, that he's undeserving of love - your love.

you think that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. providing him with said love, embracing him and showing him how pure love can be.

the blond caught your eye right away. he was charming, funny and handsome. aventurine turned into your little work crush, your motivation to convince yourself just to see him.

the road was rocky and full of obstacles, set up by none other than aventurine. it gave you a better perception of who he really was and it intrigued you even more. why does he hide himself away from the world? why does he convince himself to not get anyone close to him even though he longs for the touch of another person? who is aventurine, really?

you can't answer any of these questions and neither are you certain if aventurine really can but that doesn't stop you. you continue to climb up all the way to know who he is, who the person you fell in love with really is.

love, is weird isn't it? it comes in all different shapes and forms.

if someone were to ask you why you like him, you wouldn't know how to answer, because neither do you know.

but nevertheless you still like him. why? how come you like someone that you don't even know, someone that is foreign to you, almost like a stranger. even though the both of you label yourself as “friends.”

you're not sure what the color is that infuses his irises, he keeps them hidden beneath his glasses. despite that, you long to stare into his eyes and let all the plain and dull parts of your life get painted in the same colors of his hues. a color that brings you comfort and cures your sorrow. it's the hues that you want to stare at as you tuck a golden strand of hair behind his ear, in return he grants you a small but genuine smile.

a smile that you want to see more often, one that you want to keep for yourself.

as for his scent, every person has their own unique and special scent. you plead to the gods above that he’ll let you bury your head into the crook of his neck and absorb his smell so it becomes the only scent that lingers around your nose.

there are so many more things that you want to know about him but you're unaware of. one might say that you're odd for liking - no, loving someone that you barely know.

a stranger, a foreign person whom you know little about to almost nothing about, is the person that you love. absurd isn't it? but love is weird, love can be pure and ridiculous, but it can also be painful and heart wrenching. love is a feeling that not only brings joy to oneself but also causes pain. but it's a feeling that you never want to get rid of - not until you introduced aventurine to it. showing him what love has to offer and has in store.

in the iridescent light aventurine remains to look as ethereal as ever. a scent of vodka lingers around aventurines figure, the smell is strong, but you couldn't care less. his hair is disheveled but nevertheless continues to shine in the dazzling light. he lets out a tiring yawn and you couldn't imagine aventurine any more beautiful than in this moment.

vulnerable and for your eyes only. making it unable for you to tear your gaze away from the sight before you.

he's like a shooting star, if you don't continue to watch and follow it and blink, even if it's just for a single moment - it's all over and you'll never see it again.

“stop looking at me like that.” aventurine mumbles quietly, almost whispering. upon hearing that, you make your way over to him, glass shards long forgotten as you place them on the small coffee table in front of the sofa.

your arms reach out to aventurine, clutching your hands on his shoulders. your grip is sluggish but you don't falter and continue to hold him. “like what?” your lips are slightly parted and your gaze is drowsy as you counter aventurine's question with a question of your own.

“like that.” he placed the hand that just rested on his thigh, on your cheek, slightly caressing it. “you're just gonna hurt the both of us if you keep this up any longer.” he's not sure where the boldness came from, he blames it on the alcohol once again; it finally seemed to kick in.

“‘m not lying” you hiccup. tomorrow i’ll tell you how much i love you, no matter if it's once” a cough exits your throat “or a hundred times.” the words that leave your mouth are slurred, they're incoherent and muddled up. your grip on his shoulder weakens, hands slipping off and head falling against his chest.

..did you seriously just black out?

aventurine can only sigh at that. a small smile finds its way onto his face. he snakes his arms around you waist, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck and hugging you with the remaining power he had left before falling asleep. guess there'll be a lot to unpack tomorrow but for now he allows himself to indulge in this shared moment between the two of you.

e/n: hope yall enjoyed this as much as i hated writing this!! (i wanted to throw up) i acc hate how i wrote this. it's not as choppy as when i started writing it but it still feels so rushed and so idk.. anyway reblogs with comments are very much appreciated! >< ALSO that one paragraph written in brackets..guess whose speech it was inspired byyyyy (hint: bsd!!)

#toorurs #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff #hsr aventurine #aventurine hsr #aventurine x reader #aventurine fluff #aventurine angst #aventurine imgines #aventurine headcanons #hsr imagines #honkai star rail imagines #hsr headcanons

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mercurial-chuckles · 7 months ago

Text

Tantalizing Tuesday Thought!

♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

Indulge Away!

****

"Just give in, doll," Bucky snickered.

"Ughh...fuck off, Bucky," you grumbled, putting all your strength in kneading the dough. He moved behind you, his tall form dwarfing yours. His metal arm rested on the counter beside you, while his right arm slid to your front, fingers sneaking underneath your t-shirt, caressing the skin there.

"You can't distract me. That's against the rules," you shouted, elbowing him.

"What rules?" he teased, pressing a loud kiss to your ear.

"Ow.... stop annoying me," you yelled, wiggling away from his grip.

While you were covered in flour and wearing an apron, Bucky's black t-shirt and joggers were somehow spotless despite his kneading dough without any apron.

"Show off," you muttered. Bucky was really getting good at this whole baking hobby he picked up, and the super strength did help when working on that dough. You were proud of him, but you'd never admit when you were in the middle of a competition, of course.

He leaned against the counter beside you, watching with a smirk that promised nothing but trouble. Arms crossed, muscles flexing casually, he observed you with that familiar, mischievous glint in his eyes. You narrowed your gaze at him, not about to let him distract you.

"Just so you both know, I'm not going to judge your little baking contest," Steve quipped.

"Oh, didn't see you there, Captain," you teased. He was sprawled on the couch a few feet away, sketchbook in hand, too absorbed to pay much mind to you and Bucky's bread-baking showdown.

Finally putting away his book, Steve strolled over to you.

"Lemme help," he said, kissing you gently. You eagerly nodded in response.

A little help would be good. You couldn't obviously take help from Bucky, but Steve was fair game.

"That's against the rules," Bucky pointed out.

"What rules?" you asked innocently, a smirk tugging at your lips.

"Such a brat," Bucky grumbled, smacking your ass before walking to the living room and dramatically flopping down on the couch.

Both Bucky's and your bread turned out great, but Steve refused to declare a winner. Instead, he presented you both with a gift; sketches he had been working on earlier, capturing you and Bucky in the kitchen, bickering as you baked. Damn, it was the best prize you could ask for, besides spending time together on this relaxing Tuesday, of course. You'd get it framed tomorrow and hang it alongside his other sketches on the wall.

****

Oh, well... I've been binging on GBBO. AGAIN!

♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

If you wanna be tagged in my works, add yourself here. <3 Please send me a message if you wanna be removed from the Tag list. :)

I'm having trouble retrieving the tag list form, where you entered preferences. Forgive me if you haven't chosen to be tagged in this. Until I get things fixed, kindly bear with me 😂

Tag list: @nekoannie-chan @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @bitchy-bi-trash @theallknown213 @tripletstephaniescp @rogerscut @greatenthusiasttidalwave @zaraomarrogers @shadowrose13-blog1 @king814318 @yiiiikesmish @steviebbboi @bernelflo @saiyanprincessswanie @blushingrn @looking1016 @jvanilly @mimisweetz @navyhua23 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @shadyloveobjects @alexxavicry @feynightlight @astheskycries @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @patzammit @soelstress @8crazy-freak8 @stellar-solar-flare @stuckysgal @bval-1 @slowlyshycomputer @rogersbarber @avengersfan25 @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @thiquefunlover63 @blackhawkfanatic @notsostrangerthing @awkwardgiraffe726

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brittscafe · 2 months ago

Text

Pairing: Shinji, Byakuya, Toshiro, Shunsui, and Jushiro x reader! (Separately)

Summary: How Shinji, Byakuya, Toshiro, Shunsui, and Jushiro react to their s/o having a panic attack.

Request: Hi hi ! I love your writing !! May I ask how some captain would react with a s/o who's anxious and have a panic attack ? I want to know about Shinji the most since he's my fav hehe, but I'm also curious Byakuya, Toshiro, Shunsui and Ukitake ? You can add other characters or remove if you want of course !! thank u and sorry for my english it's not my first language !!!

A/n: Heyyy! Aw, thank you sooo soo much! <3 These are kind of short, but please enjoy!! <3

Content: SFW. Details of anxiety and panic attacks.

Shinji:

When he first notices your anxiety is getting bad or you're having a panic attack, he drops everything for you, leaving behind whatever he was doing.

Whatever he was doing, it is no longer important. The only thought on his mind now is you.

He calls out your name, dropping onto his knees beside you and wasting no time in gathering you in his arms.

Shinji speaks so tenderly, saying everything is going to be okay and asking if there is anything he can do.

His hands run up and down your back, his body warmth radiating onto yours.

He presses soft kisses along your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

He tries to make jokes, but they're really bad, so bad in fact they actually take your mind off of things.

Shinji will start talking shit about Aizen and lowkey crashing out about former squad members, making the craziest facial expressions that make you crack the slightest smile.

Shinji feels his heartstrings tugging at him, knowing that him acting like a complete fool helps you.

He lets you know that he's not leaving your side and reassures that he's going to stay with you until you feel better.

Byakuya:

He keeps himself calm and collected, but deep down he's concerned about you.

Will press a soft, tender kiss along your forehead and he's very careful with his touch.

Byakuya knows you're fragile during this time, so he's very cautious with how he approaches you.

Always asks before he touches it, if its ok with you.

His hands are rough, but warm and they comfort you, as Byakuya gathers you into his arms.

Byakuya asks you if you need anything and he will make one of his staff rush to go get it for you.

Speaks ever so tenderly, fingers playing with your hair and cupping the back of your neck to soothe you.

Byakuya is usually so stoic and serious, but with you and during your anxiety attacks, he becomes a soft teddy bear.

He softens his voice and touch, his eyes are filled with concern and worry.

You can see the pain behind his eyes, knowing that you're going through this and he can't ever really stop your panic attacks.

He'll ask you to focus on your senses, to identify 5 things you can see, 4 things you can touch, etc.

You feel a little better seeing the concern wrapped around Byakuya's pale face as he holds you in his arms, letting you just melt there until you feel better.

Toshiro:

Worry and concern flood Toshiro's eyes when he sees you having a panic attack in front of him.

At first, he's a tad conflicted, not knowing what to do. He lowkey might have to go to Rangiku to get some advice because he's freaking out internally.

Toshiro puts on his cool side as he kneels down beside you and asks you what you need from him.

If you want to be left alone and just have him keep you company, he'll respect that. If you want to be held, he'll also respect that.

He'll delicately will cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as a way to soothe you.

Fingers kneading the flesh of your shoulders as he sits down besides you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer to him,

Toshiro lets you bury your head into his shoulder and cling onto him as tightly as you can. It doesn't bother him one bit.

He'll hold your face if you want and kiss your hands, speaking with a soft tone.

Toshiro encourages you to take deep, steady breathes and he'll even start breathing along with you to help.

He def would never dismiss your feelings and assures you that everything you're feeling is valid.

Toshiro is very patient and understanding as he helps you through your panic attack.

Shunsui:

Shunsui is one to never take things seriously, but when you're anxious and having a panic attack, you've never Shunsui so serious before.

A stoic expression takes over his face as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his warm body.

He knows that you feel the safest with him and he does everything he can to provide you with what you need.

He offers a great, comforting hug that also comes with a perfect, soft forehead kiss or he can offer his comforting tender words with his deep, raspy voice that lulls in your head.

Or Shunsui can be dead silent and just comfort you with his body, acting a shield for you.

He'll let you grip onto him as tight and desperately as you to, not minding when your fingers dig into his flesh.

If you want his words, he'll converse normally about his day while gently rubbing the side of your body.

"My sweet petal is so strong," he'll whisper, giving you a light squeeze.

Shunsui just showers you in compliments, saying how strong you are and how brave you are.

Def teases you and tells you cringy, really, really bad jokes to make you crack a smile.

Jushiro:

His heart yearns for you, so when you have a panic attack, Jushiro doesn't leave your side.

He'll stroke your hair and go make you some tea that'll soothe your throat.

Or he'll pull out his stack of sweets that he's saved for Toshiro, but he knows that you need than more than Captain Hitsugaya right now.

He whispers sweet comments into your ears, comforting you in his arms.

Jushiro will grab your hand, placing it on your chest and you can feel his heart pounding against the palm of your hand.

"Just listen to the strumming of my heart, honey." he'll whisper softly into your ear, trying to soothe you.

If you're in public and Jushiro can see your anxious, he'll grab your hand and rub his thumb along the top of your hand.

He'll make sure you're close to him when your anxious or if you have a panic attack.

Jushiro will compliment you and stay with you the whole time until he knows for sure, that you're okay.

He's just so sweet and makes sure that when he's talking to you, he uses a tender and kindhearted voice that soothes your soul.

Once you're feeling okay, Jushiro gets your favorite takeout and cuddles you the whole time as he puts on your favorite comfort movie.

#bleach #shinji hirako #byakuya kuchiki #toshiro hitsugaya #shunsui kyoraku #jushiro ukitake #bleachanime #bleach imagines #bleach anime #bleach x reader #bleach x you #bleach headcanons #jushiro ukitake x reader

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dipperscavern · 8 months ago

Note

jon snow brainrot rn.

like imagine finding him after the whole thorne execution, post-death and post-revival

i need to hold him so bad🙁🙁 in spite of the horrid crawl of his skin, hair at his nape standing on end, urging him avert his gaze as you approach, he can't help but seek your soft stare, his own eyes weak with feeling, brows curved with vulnerability. and his heartbeat is quickening, and his breathing grows sharp

his hand trembles and no matter how desperately he tries to hold fast, he crumbles when you near, raising a hand to his cheek; warm and soft and tender. his breath hitches violently in his chest and his head falls to the crook of your neck, his silent sobs disrupting the quiet with small soundless gasps

and you hold him close, with a gentleness he deserves that he'd never before recieved, a hand in his curls and the other a firm warmth on his back as he helplessly leans his weight on you to finally release the overflow of agony he'd all but drowned in 🙁🙁��

SWEET BOY, I NEED TO HOLD HIM💔💔

SONGBIRDS — JON SNOW

pairing: jon snow x fem!reader, 3.1k words

synopsis: the ask above <3

authors note: ouh this was a rough one! i did in fact steal sentences from this ask, so thank u anon!! i love u!! become a writer!! thank u to my febu frongers @useralba & @eldrith for helping me not lose my sanity over this, love y’all!! enjoy i guess 🙄(if possible) (i’m gonna be quiet now)

SNAP

you’re brought out of your thoughts with a jolt, startled so badly you near fall out of the tree you’ve found sanctuary in. that doesn’t sit well with you, you’ve always been steady.

so was bran, a small voice whispers. so was he, another part of you agrees — and the one it mentions has naught to do with climbing.

was, your mind echoes bitterly. it seems like everyone who once surrounded you is only that anymore, a was. a whisper of the past, faces seen nowhere but in living memory; and now, he has joined them.

fresh tears roll down your cheeks, and you wipe them as soon as they join the conversation of grief. bitterness — mourning — desperation, all cradling you at once.

you readjust your form, limbs beginning to fall asleep from the tight position they’re in. if only you could do the same. it seems the gods have deemed you unable, as every time your eyes droop, you see the face of the lord commander.

the mere thought of him is paining, and the sight of him was entirely too much to bear. so much so that you fled, the memory squeezing uncomfortably at your chest.

his eyes, once ever-expressive, dulled to nothing but an expressionless saccharine blur. lips parted, yet no air being brought in to fill his lungs. the snow beneath him was stained a bloody crimson, and you can almost feel the familiar cold of the icy ground beneath your knees as you kneel beside the form of the man you love.

at first, you had cried. whispering pleas to whomever would listen, clutching any part of him you could reach — you had even attempted to stop the bleeding. stupid, stupid girl.

then, it seemed to occur to you that you were touching death. slowly removing your hands, looking down at the lifeless body of jon snow. and just like that, repulsion had entered your veins. no — rejection.

you rejected this. you rejected death, you rejected the finality you had been dealt. you had stood, clutching your bow, arrows lightly jostling from the movement. hunting.

you had been hunting while jon was dying.

if only time had dealt you a mercy, perhaps you would’ve made it back in time. to save him, or just to say goodbye, you’re not greedy in your wishing.

you glance to your hands, still stained with his blood. suddenly, your eyes flutter shut as you see the image of his body again — his wounds smoking in the cold nights air. it feels like a lifetime ago. rejection has long since abandoned you, leaving bitter acceptance in its wake.

you blink, eyes threatening tears, and your gaze finds the white and red blur of a weirwood tree. you return to the woods to escape, yet the gods find you anyway; what cruel mockery.

how could they, yet again? don’t they see all you lose? they must, you think, as they’re the ones who keep taking. is that the only joy a god may find? maybe now, that’s why you hunt; to send them a life as sick compensation for the one they took. what an acidic dance.

CRACK

this time, when a twig breaks, you are not so foolish as to think it only by coincidence. you aren’t the only hunter out here — yet you did not think to find yourself as prey.

whatever stalks you is enough to bring you out of the cynicality of grief, snapping you into a different mindset. though previously unsure how much more you can withstand, your body proves otherwise, flawless in its transition and execution.

you heart increases its rhythm, surefire in its performance, allowing extra blood flow and oxygen to be pumped to your aching muscles. your breathing changes, now quick and rapid breaths to take in more air which prove effective as you shift yourself from your sitting position.

you had chosen not the tallest tree, but the thickest and most concealed. it gives more room for stability, allowing you to exercise your position; a small decision you now are thankful for as you move forward, outstretching yourself on its thick limb to try and catch glimpse of whatever it is that seeks you.

unfortunately, the concealment that hides you does its job too well. you try to peer through the branches and leaves for what feels like ages, but they prove too thick. you curse under your breath, withdrawing from the branch to retreat back to the trees trunk once more.

closing your eyes, you listen. the gust of wind, the rustling of leaves, a raven cries in the distance. you wait.

there — your ears are graced with the light chirp of birds, in your own tree and in others nearby.

“If danger is near, the birds don’t sing.”

ned starks voice rings through your ears, so loud and clear that for a moment, you almost lose concentration. if asked why, you’d never be able to directly say why your eyes didn’t snap open, why your head didn’t swivel around, looking for the source of the voice you’ve heard. can you and the gods share a secret, if it’s one they decide not to include you on?

as the melody of songbirds continue, you shift to begin your descent.

in any other scenario you would stay in the tree, concealed by its branches until the threat was certainly gone. but things are different. jon is dead — you seek a fight. (do you, or do you refuse to allow the stranger your soul as well?)

the decision made, even in grief, isn’t a rash one. whatever it is isn’t nearby enough to silence the singers, and this may be your only window of opportunity to flip the coin; restoring yourself as predator, not prey.

your feet hit the ground, and you wince at the noise made. it’s midday, so you cannot hope for nightfalls rescue of concealment.

you pause, peering around you while you allow yourself a moment to think. your hunting grounds have always been the forest that surrounds castle black, and you had retreated to the very edge of it. your hunter has come from the north — funny enough, from the direction of castle black itself. if you’re careful, you can make a loop back east, foregoing your usual trail. swallowing your nerves, you begin to move your feet.

your senses are heightened, alike to how they are in battle, but this is different. instead of blood pulsing in your ears, they’re attuned to every sound, no matter how minuscule. the smell of blood and death is replaced by nature, the scent of oak & pine leaves fighting to not be smothered by the cold.

you don’t make much progress before you turn a corner and yelp in surprise, being met with a hulking figure, red eyes boring into you.

“Ghost—!” you shout; in surprise, frustration, and relief all at once. your breathing heavies, heart now beating wildly, ready to supply you should you need to run at a moments notice. then, somehow, you’re smiling. you smile at ghost, at the birds, who didn’t notice him enough to quiet themselves, and the childness of it all. you kneel, shouldering your bow and outstretching an arm.

ghost seems like he’s been waiting for your action, stepping forward immediately. you register his willingness — had he been searching for you? or did he find jon dead and left, as you did, finding you accidentally? if only he could speak; the phantom of a thousand words.

he’s soft under your hands, a small comfort parading in the wake of sad relations. and suddenly, you feel guilty. how long has ghost been by jon’s side? how fierce, the loyalty the direwolf has shown him? how fierce the devotion jon had shown him in return? he mourns alongside you, grief arguably more substantial, as he was given no explanation. how could he understand such matters?

an idiot thought, you're quick to push it away. you both have every right to grief, there is more than enough to go around.

eventually, ghost pulls away, and begins padding in the direction to castle black. you think he means to be solitary, but after a few paces, he stops, turning to look back at you. expectant.

though your breath hitches and grief nags at you once more, you swallow it down, and begin to follow the only remnant of jon snow — a piece of him that the gods saw fit to leave you. what cruel mercy, coming from the same hands of injustice.

though content to wallow in your anger, your disbelief, you refuse to allow the direwolf to return to castle black alone. strangely, the farther you follow him, the more you get a sense of deja vu. it can’t be more than a few minutes before you see a tree with bark missing, torn off and left bare its left side, which is now your right. a mark you had left to remember your trail. ghost has tracked your scent from castle black.

with the realization arises conflicted feelings, as if they can’t agree on how you feel. loyalty rings faintly in the back of your mind, the things done for love.

you forcibly close your mind, numbing yourself as to be fully in the present. you’ll have the rest of your days to dwell on it; but only now are you here, in the company of trees and wolves and birds, oh how they sing.

and suddenly, the melody is quiet.

time itself has been stopped, halted in its tracks. there’s no rustling of branches, of leaves, no sound of birds, no sound at all — the world has become inaudible.

you and ghost mirror each other in the ways you both lurch to a halt. a sick feeling infects your gut, hairs rising on the back of your neck, and the instinctual need to flee almost takes over. but something keeps you there, rooted to your spot, feet unmoving. what anchors you, is another secret between you and the gods; another peculiar joke that you stay the punchline of.

then, after a moment, a gust of wind graces the forest. it blows your hair, rustles through the trees, and almost hesitantly so, the birds begin their song again. ghost looks back at you, surveying as if this is the first time he’s seen you.

he begins to lead the way once more, but a thought still lingers in the back of your mind, and you’re unable to shake off the unease in your gut. what has dismantled the harmonious balance among living things so?

━━━━━━━━━━༺✰ ━━━━━━━━━━━

he wakes with a gasp.

━━━━━━━━━━༺✰ ━━━━━━━━━━━

it must be hours later when you approach the gates of castle black. one of the guards on watch takes notice, shaking the other awake. as they both stare down at you, you wonder.

are they close enough to see the mourning that rests forefront on your face? were they the same men who opened the gate for you upon your return last night, only to do the same thing minutes later after you found jon? do they feel guilty? should you?

the wooden gates protest opening, loud creaks and groans as it gives you access, and at first, you don’t see it.

at first, you walk in, and your gaze is trapped on the ground, lost in thought. you’ve come back empty handed, as you came back to jon — or rather, his body. but you don’t think anyone was expecting a stag draped across your shoulders. amidst the unexpected.

when you finally do look up, you’re startled for the ? time today. four men hang in the middle of the courtyard.

you stop in your tracks, but this time, ghost pads on ahead of you. he stops not for anybody, curving them all to fair left. the direction to jon’s chambers.

you don’t have long to dwell on the wolfs mistake, as peoples eyes find your frozen figure. among them, friends; edd, grenn, pyp, others you don’t recognize. some, not dressed in black. wildlings. you begin to walk forward, and a tall, ginger bearded figure spots you. tormund walks to meet you, an expression on his face unreadable — unable to be identified by your tired eyes.

confusion — surprise — apprehension — curiosity; all fight for their seat at the forefront of your mind, but they’re forced to share.

as you and tormund find each other, you glance past him at the hanging men. then to your left, expecting to see ghost still scratching at jon’s door — but he’s not there. was he shooed off? did you misread his intention?

“I don’t— what’s…” you start, but don’t finish. how could you even begin?

tormund reaches for you, hands settling on your biceps. whether he’s keeping you in place or checking for injury, you don’t think you care. the weight and warmth of the gesture is welcomed.

“Tormund, you’re scaring me—” your admission wouldn’t usually come so easy, but you can’t be bothered to guard yourself. you’re exhausted, your muscles are stiff, you’re confused, and you hurt.

he only turns you toward jon’s chambers, pointing, a hand on the small of your back. “In there, little bird.” he says, and you wish to tell him what a help he is. but you don’t. for some reason, you bite your tongue, sparing a last glance at him, before slowly making your way over.

all of the eyes on you make you nervous, and frustrate you all the same. why do they all act like they’ve seen the father?

it doesn’t take long for you to reach the door, curiosity guiding your step. you see ghosts muddied paw prints on the wood, but they don’t turn left or right — ending at the chamber door. your brows furrow almost instinctively. you can’t help but linger on the thought, setting your bow & arrows to lay nearby; your shoulders welcome the reprieve. with bated breaths, you push on the wood, stepping inside. what you find is beyond even your wildest imaginations.

what you find is jon’s head turning to look at you, and you can’t help the sharp inhale of air you take.

his bottom half is clothed, but his upper is uncovered, torso wrapped in bandages; covering the stab wounds that you know took his life.

you think him a hallucination, mind willing his fate to change so desperately it has conjured up its own delusion. but you glance to ghost, dutifully curled by his feet, and shift to turn, looking at the paw prints that led you here.

you turn back to (jon?), closing the door behind you. while your own flickers to ghost once more (an affirmation), jon’s gaze remains fixed on you. you inch closer, surveying him.

his eyes, now encasing life — not quite the same as you knew, but life nonetheless. lips, parted, as to suck in air to fill his lungs. lungs that in return, work in correspondence with his heart, beating to keep him alive.

no. this can’t be…

but it is.

he’s rigid — uncomfortable, yet a part of him fights to relax in your presence. how can it all be so unbalanced and so right all at once? you’re here. you’re all he’s ever wanted. but a part of him keeps him withdrawn, fighting him on reaching out for you.

perhaps it’s the horrid crawl of his skin, urging him avert his gaze as you approach. even so, he can't help but seek your gentle stare, his own eyes weak with feeling, brows curved with vulnerability. you see it as you close in — the turmoil within himself.

a different part of him wins, and he reaches for you. you’ve been waiting, it seems, and reach for him with equal fervor. his hands are cold on your waist, strikingly so. your eyes widen, disbelief written on you like ink on parchment.

you had not expected to feel him. no, you expected for him to vanish underneath your very fingertips.

one of your hands find the bare skin of his torso, experimentally reaching out. jon is hungry for your touch, offering any part of himself for your taking. he has craved you desperately ever since he awoke.

he watches, patient as you register the warmth underneath your hand. there’s blood circulating through his veins. your pupils blow wide in the realization.

you’re anxious for more assurance, your right hand moving to his forearm to keep him in place (jon wouldn’t dare to move), as your left finds his chest. specifically — the part of his chest that keeps safe his heart. you feel it beat underneath your palm, and your reaction is immediate, eyes fluttering shut.

if he didn’t want to be touched, jon would’ve shied away from you by now. but he hasn’t. no, his eyes bore into you with the attention only divine beings receive

jons breathing heavies in anticipation, expectant. he gauges every ounce of your reaction, waiting for your evaluation of him — as a sinner would their god. is he worthy? do you deem him so?

when your eyes open, something clicks into place. jon is here, in the now, alive and breathing; your fingertips said so themselves. you don’t know how, but you can’t find it in yourself to care much in the present, not when you finally have him in your hold once more. what you would’ve given for this, hours ago in your tree. what wouldn’t you have given?

and now, your eyes roam over every part of him, drinking in all that you can. your gaze trails fast, mapping the expanse of his shoulders, down his arms, to his torso, across his bandages again.

your hand removes itself from his chest, only momentarily, but jon chases your touch all the same. you can’t bear to leave him wanting, sliding a hand up his shoulder, feeling the lithe muscle beneath it. you’re desperate to ground the feeling of him, to commit it to memory — and jon seems equal in his need.

you hand stops it’s ascent when it reaches his neck, cradling the juncture of it, thumb smoothing over the soft skin of his cheek, as you meet his gaze. your touch is warm and soft and tender, and in an instant, his eyes are watery. the hands on your waist tremble, and his breaths turn shaky in an attempt to hold himself together. his brows pull together, and his breath hitches violently in his chest. something stirs in you at the sight, the expressions of a broken man.

jon has passed your test of realism with flying colors, and when he realizes, he crumbles.

his head falls to the crook of your neck, closing the small distance between you. you’re quick to wrap your arms around him, and jon’s immediate in pulling you closer — as close as you can get. the tears begin their flow easily, releasing the buildup of emotions harbored from death snaring & absolving him; akin to poison swallowed and retched before fully digested.

your touch is gentle, a hand in his curls and the other a firm warmth on his back. he leans himself into you, almost helplessly so, as if he couldn’t stop himself if he tried. you accept his weight with open arms. if jon was asked why he fights so desperately, even in times it seems hopeless, he would say to repay the gods for their gift to him; you.

the only things that disrupt the steady quiet that surrounds you are his silent sobs, accompanied by the small soundless gasps that flow from his lips as a river of melancholy.

his grip is tight; he drowns in a vast sea of agony, and you alone are his anchor.

#dippys asks #game of thrones #jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow x you #nobody pay attention to this #this never happened #i need a cigarette

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slxttyria · 1 month ago

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Geum Song je x f!reader

Warnings: mentions of s@, abuse, slight depression

(First time writing bear w me if it's not that good 🥲)

You were walking from school as usual, no one to accompany you. Just you in your own world.

Taking the route you usually take but this time as soon as you turned that familiar corner your met with the faces of 3 boys.

As soon as they spotted you they stopped their bickering.

One who seemed like a leader of some sort got up, slowly walking towards you.

"Hey pretty girl...you know this road is off limits right?" He spoke, eyes trailing over your figure with a perverted gaze.

You said nothing, fidgeting with the strap of your back while you stared straight in his face.

He scoffed when he realized you didn't answer "ill take that as a no." He turned back to his other members, you made a move to walk off but he held out his arm to stop you.

You looked at his arm and then at him. "Where you going~? We aren't done yet." He spoke with a stupid grin on his face with hunger pumping in his eyes. He looked at the boys behind him and tilted his head like a signal.

In a flash they surrounded you, one grabbed your arms, the other played in your hair while the first one that spoke reached out to grope your chest.

You felt tears stinging your eyes, this was different at all.

(Flashback)

You were only 8.

Your mom had left you with your stepdad since she was on a business trip, she had been a bit distant ever since your father passed.

You were in your room doing your homework as a promise to your mom when he stepped in.

The room suddenly reeked of alcohol.

"Hey hunny..." He spoke, his voice slightly coarse, he leaned down to place his hands on your shoulders slowly tracing them down to your chest.

"My mommy said no one should touch me there." You spoke softly, removing his hands now standing up.

He chuckled "C'mon you know Daddy's just playing..." He reached out again to lift you up, hands expanding to grope your ass.

You tried to fight back, you swear you did, and it all happened in a blur.

Clothes scattered on the floor, his large figure above you, your eyes brimmed with tears as you felt a sharp pain between your legs you let out a scream but he rushed to cover your mouth.

He left you bleeding on the bed.

"Tell your mom about this and I'll fucking murder you kid." He spat before exiting the room.

Left in silence, you laid there frozen unsure of what to do, you cried so much it felt like there was no more tears left. This continued until your mom got home. Till this day she doesn't know.

(present)

You felt their hands all over you, one moving to unbutton your shirt, the other reaching under your skirt.

You felt frozen, you couldn't do shit either way, Until.

"You fucking perverts!" A voice yelled.

They all paused to look behind them, you caught a glance.

You didn't pay him any mind he was probably here to join them.

"Did I tell you to come out there to fucking touch a girl?" He reached them in 2 large steps and gave one a slap across the face.

He began repeatedly kicking him in his face "Can't..." kick. "Follow..." kick. "Fucking..." kick. "Instructions..." Another kick to his face, the guys face was now badly bruised.

He looked up at the others "Get on your knees now." He spoke sternly.

They all scrambled to their knees instantly.

You stood there and wondered what kind of authority did he have over them?

He walked towards you, his voice far softened than before "Are you okay?"

Same as before, you didn't answer you stared right into his eyes.

He stared right back before scoffing "You guys probably traumatized the poor girl." He turned to look at them on their knees, they didn't dare to look up, he slapped one of them "Bowling. 9 am, be late and your punishment will be even worse."

They all got up running off but turned back in remembrance of their friend on the ground, dragging him away.

He watched them walk away and scoffed "Idiots..."

"Thank you." He almost flinched when he heard you speak, he turned around to find you already walking off, something about you interested him, most girls would be screaming and crying if this ever happened but your just silent, as of this was a normal thing. He had to know more about you.

#weak hero class 1 #weak hero class two #whc1 x reader #weak hero x reader #geum seong je #geum seongje x reader

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lunatic-pudge · 1 year ago

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Mercs Being Jealous

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Requested by menenthusiast900069)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aight, so let's make a quick list of most to least jealous, just so you get an idea of my very bias beliefs, I am semi willing to debate this.

1.) Sniper

2.) Demo

3.) Scout

4.) Medic

5.) Pyro

6.) Soldier

7.) Engie

8.) Spy

9.) Heavy

Now, onto the headcanons!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scout:

-Such a jealous baby, he can't help it

-A lot of it comes from his insecurities and also being the youngest of eight. He's used to being "the runt" of the group, even with the mercs. So he feels like he has to compete with them for your affection, even if you two are dating

-Like, someone could stand just a little too close to you and he's already starting the side eyes

-Scout, chill, for real for real

-He will attach himself to you once the jealousy kicks in. Arms wrapped around you, nuzzling up against you, it's that inner dog in him

-He will get mouthy with whoever is causing the jealousy. Talks a lot of smack for someone who is built like a damn twig. So it goes from him loving on you, to you having to prevent a fight from happening. Yes, depending on who it is, he can win the fight, he's a mercenary afterall. But when it comes to guys who have a big build like Heavy, then you'll really need to stop him

Soldier:

-Isn't really the jealous type, surprisingly. I think it comes from an oblivious stand point. Like, you need to point it out that someone's flirting with you for him to get even an increment of jealousy

-He really feels like he has nothing to worry about (which he's right). He's more than confident that you're loyal to him cause he is with you

-I feel like when you do say someone is flirting with you, he isn't gonna be violent, moreso he will make a big name and shame thing out of it (he basically did that to Miss Pauling in the comics)

-Like, "Who do you think you are flirting with MY GIRL, maggot! You are a disgrace to this country! Now drop and give me 100!"

-But that don't mean he isn't ready to throw hands. Cause he will. Homie's down to break a few necks. But if you don't want him doing that then you're gonna have to remove him from the situation

Pyro:

-I feel like they're kinda like Solider is the more oblivious aspect, but not as much. Like, they can tell when someone's flirting with you, but whether they truly care or not is up for debate

-I don't really see Pyro as a violent type when jealous. Why waste their energy on someone so insignificant to them?

-If anything, Pyro will just resort to loving all over you, more than usual. All the while giving the offending person a death stare

-It's a very effective form of intimidation

-Cause think about it, are you gonna want to fight a person wearing a flame proof suit, that isn't speaking, and is just giving you the thousand yard stare? No, you wouldn't

Demoman:

-Poor baby can be quite insecure. I feel so bad for him

-Constantly worries about not being good enough. He's so used to being beat down by the people around him that he doesn't have good self-esteem

-He will stand nearby you, waiting for you to notice him, looking like a sad and lost puppy

-Once you finally notice him, you'll have to pry him open to find out what's wrong. He doesn't like burdening you with his problems so he tends to sit and stew about everything til he bursts

-He will need to to reassure him that you aren't going anywhere and that you love him. He needs a lot of verbal reassuring cause he's a worrying lad

Heavy:

-Heavy? Jealous? Where?

-While Scout, Demo, and Sniper might be the top three most jealous, Heavy, Engie, and Spy are the least jealous

-Heavy is this big, strong bear, why would you ever wanna settle for less? Like, frfr, you'd have to have an IQ less than an orange to stoop to such lengths

-But let's play along and say that he did get jealous. One of those very rare times it happens. He knows he doesn't have to do much to make the offender leave, all he has to do is stand there

-And stare.

-And stare..

-And stare...

-He's got that resting angry face so he just has to stand behind you and exist to make people leave you alone. It's kinda funny to think about it. He'll gently take your hand and leave after that

-Why be around people when you two can be locked away in a quite room with a good book?

Engineer:

-Again, not a jealous person. But he does have his moments sometimes

-He's a confident boy and knows you wouldn't do anything. Plus have you seen him? He's an intelligent man, got such a nice voice and accent, and can build a machine to keep you safe

-When he jealous, he's passive aggressive. He doesn't like to be hostile, especially so up front, so he'll do little things to help get his point across

(Would give examples but I'm not passive agressive, I'm just aggressive, oops)

-He'd come up to you, slide an arm around you, give you a kiss on the cheek, and say how he was looking for ya while side eyeing the offender

-THAT MAN COULD USE HIS VOICE TO SEDUCE YOU ALL OVER AGAIN, FIGHT ME

-Weirdly enough, I can see him as someone who will look into the offender, find all the person's info and hand it over to Medic, basically saying "Here's someone you can harvest organs from. Have fun, Pookie."

-Then Medic and Engie proceed to make out and get married. The end

Medic:

-Medic's an interesting fellow. I feel like he's like Pyro where it all depends on his mood. Somdays, he doesn't give a shit, and other days, HE'S FUMING

-He will NOT tolerate the disrespect >:(

-Cue sassy Medic. This man will verbally murder a bitch and I'm here for it

-Will get "handsy" with you (he'll just throw himself on top of you, maybe even make you hold him bridal style if you're strong enough)

-Will be loving all over you while verbally berating the offender. Everything is getting called out. EVERYTHING. He wants to ensure his point is made

-Buuuut, this can also be a chance to score some fresh, new organs. He's always in the market for that stuff so he can easily kidnap the offender and harvest the goods. And no, you can't talk him out of it. Once his mind is made up, nothing can stop him

Sniper:

-Oh my poor baby boy. Where do I even begin with you?

-Sniper can't help but get so jealous so easily. He's never been one to have relationships with people so when he is in one, he gets so insecure at times

-Worries he's not good enough at times. He know he's a "quirky" individual, so he worries you'll want to be with someone who's more "normal"

-Will stand nearby, giving the offender dirty looks. They can feel the daggers that Sniper is giving them, it's enough to make them leave

-Afterwards, he'll pull you away from everyone and be all over you

-While Demo needs verbal reassurance, Sniper needs physical reassurance. So please love on him and tell him it's gonna be okay and that you love him and only him

-But I can also see him needing to prove that he's better than any guy through "fun" means (Medic would too but I forgot to add it. They both horny jealous people)

Spy:

-Again, not a jealous person, and rightfully so

-We all know how suave this man is. He can pull anyone and everyone without even trying

-But I'm sure even Spy has his own moments when he feels a slight bit of jealousy

- He'd be so pissy with the offender. Like, fuck you, pal. That's MY partner

-Welp, time to go over there and seduce you all over again, which isn't hard for him to do. He's got that magic in him, ya know? He;s a man who knows what words to say and what moves to make. He'd make the offender jealous that they couldn't be with Spy

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readerthatreadsss · 2 years ago

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Worth The Wait | Steven Grant

(Inspired by the song of the same title by Kali Uchis)

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: You and Steven have been roommates for a while now. But one night after being stood up by yet another guy in a string of dates gone wrong, Steven offers you some support...which sparks an interesting chain of events.

Warnings[18+ activities MDNI]: sub! (ish) Steven, dom! (ish) reader, fools in love, friends/roommates to lovers, mentions of drunk reader (but not drunk when they actually have sex, you'll see), crying (reader's drunk and starts venting for a bit, that's all), unprotected p in v sex (cloak the joker before you poke her), oral sex (steven and r receiving), Steven doubting himself mid-sex, assertive reader and awkward Steven! , choking (r receiving), riding, creampie, barely edited cause I'm really fuckin tired.

A/N: Hi. Don't ask me where I found the time or motivation to write this shit when school started back a month ago. The idea just popped into my head and my fingers didn't stop moving once I opened a draft. Note, I have a tall fem! reader x Steven in my drafts to finish so don't think I forgot!

"Steeeeven," knock knock knock, "STEVENNNN," knock knock knock−

Steven's brows furrowed beneath his reading glasses at the sound of your voice coming from outside your shared apartment door. Concern as well as confusion sprang through him instantly. You sounded drunk. Which he was sure to be the case seeing as you were sloppily knocking at the door rather than opening it with your keys.

He quickly shut the book he was reading and removed his glasses before making his way over to the door in fear that your next call of his name would wake the entire building.

Unfortunately, he opened the door at the very moment you launched your hand forward to knock once more. This caused you to tumble through the door with a drunken yelp. But Steven caught you in his arms before your body could hit the ground.

You looked up at him with a lazy smile and hooded eyes. "Thanks, Stevie bear," you hiccuped, using both hands to cling onto one of his very defined biceps. You had never realized how big and firm they were before that moment.

"You're welcome," Steven replied worriedly. He swiftly shut the door with his foot and used your grip on his arm to bring you standing back on your feet. "Y/n what the bloody hell happened to your date?"

You rolled your eyes at his question, kicking off your heels and making your way over to the couch without somehow falling again. "See now, Steven," you paused and pointed at him drunkenly, "it can't be a date if the said date doesn't even bother to show up!" you explained.

Steven sighed deeply at your explanation as he sat on the other end of the couch. This wasn't the first time this had happened to you—or him for that matter—but he could never understand why. You were easily one of the most beautiful women in London, and definitely one of the smartest, (your framed Ph.D. in psychology hanging over the television was evidence of that). You were the full package and more. Any man would be lucky to have you.

But the men of London were clearly morons if they kept standing you up or acting like complete knobs to you on your dates.

He would never do that to you. But he's seen photos of your past dates. A woman like you was way out of his league and would never go for someone like him, anyone with eyes could see that.

"How much have you had to drink?" Steven suddenly asked you.

You raised 3 fingers to the best of your ability. "Six," you answered before bursting into a fit of giggles at Steven's expression.

"Gosh, y/n, you're absolutely clobbered," he grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and spread it over where your short skin-tight dress was riding up your thighs.

"Well I didn't lie," you sat up abruptly, throwing the blanket off your lap and turning to face Steven and sit as crosslegged as your dress would allow, "Three of the drinks were margaritas...the other three were shots of vodka though," you admitted softly as if it were some secret for only yours and Steven's ears.

"Do you have work in the morning?" Steven questioned gently, picking up the blanket and handing it back to you. Your dress was riding up with every slight movement you made, which meant more of your thighs being exposed to him. Despite this, Steven wouldn't dare look anywhere except your eyes.

"Nope." You threw the blanket back on the floor. The night was pretty warm, you don't understand why Steven keeps giving it to you.

"Do you want me to make you some coffee or tea?"

"Yup."

Steven looked at you in question for a few seconds. "Which one?" he prodded, fighting back a smile at your muddled state.

You moved closer and narrowed your eyes, "Which one of what?" you questioned, truly confused, before breaking out into another fit of drunken giggles that caused you to momentarily tumble forward and land your hands on Steven's thighs.

"Coffee it is then," Steven answered for you, his voice traveling up an octave. He then carefully moved your hand from his thighs, trying to ignore the chills your touch sent up his spine, and hightailed it to the kitchen to put on the percolator for you.

You tilted your head as he walked away, noting how quickly he left.

When Steven returned with your cup of coffee (with cream and no sugar just how you liked it), he found you seated in the same spot but with his blanket draped over your head and body while soft sniffles and sobs met his ears.

He placed your cup on the table nearby and carefully approached your figure on the couch. Steven reached for the blanket and slowly removed it from your body.

"Why are you crying, love?" he sweetly asked once your face came into view.

"Because I'm a mess," you sniffled, using a hand to wipe the trail of tears falling from your eyes.

Steven's head tilted in disbelief at your words. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Yes I do," you nodded fervently, "It's why my dates have sucked for the past 2 months, it's why I got passed over for that goddamn promotion at work last week, and it's why you can't stand being around me for longer than 3 minutes these days."

Steven was taken aback by your words. You thought he couldn't stand to be around you? That's impossible.

"You practically sprinted to the kitchen!" you added after a few moments of silence.

"To make you coffee," Steven protested, gesturing to the cup lying untouched nearby.

"I saw your face," you looked down at where your hands lay in your lap.

Steven swallowed harshly. "Y/n."

You ignored his call for your attention.

"Look at me," he came closer and entangled his hands with your own in your lap, immediately causing you to look up at him with tear-stained eyes, "You are not a mess," he softly yet sternly said to you.

"Yes I am−"

"No. You are not," he interrupted your arguing, "Your dates? They're all losers for letting you slip through their hands. And if a few bad dates is fate's way of making you wait to find the one, then I think that's well worth the holdup, yeah?"

You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously before nodding in agreement.

"And as for my behavior earlier, it was−" Steven paused with a sigh fumbling for a sensible excuse, "it's your perfume."

You pulled a face that would have made Steven laugh under normal circumstances. "My perfume? You hate my perfume?"

Steven swallowed harshly. He hated lying. He wasn't even good at it. But convincing you that he couldn't bear your perfume was easier than admitting that he just couldn't handle the way your hands felt on his thighs or the way his entire body heated up when you leaned closer to him. "Yup. The smell was too much for me," he fibbed.

You rested your head in your palms, pouting slightly. "But you're the only reason I wear this perfume, Steven," you confessed, barely audible.

Steven's face fell. "What?"

"You told me that you liked it when I moved in and from then I kept buying it just because you liked it."

Steven's heart swelled at your admission. He felt like an asshole. He was no better than the losers you'd been going on dates with.

You continued to speak. You could feel words preparing to leave your lips that have been eating at you for a while, now guided by your lowered inhibitions. "And I didn't only mean just now. These past few weeks you can barely look me in my eyes, or be near me, Steven. What am I doing wrong?" your voice broke with your last words.

Steven had seen you cry a few times before. But this time was different. The look on your face was heart-wrenching. He couldn't believe that he made you feel like this.

Because he was having trouble dealing with his own feelings for you, he made you think he hated you...when it was the complete opposite.

"There's nothing wrong with you. It's all my fault," Steven said, breaking away from your gaze, feeling it pierce through him.

"I'm the one who was dumb enough to fall in love with you..." he added, only to look up and see you passed out against the arm of the couch.

A part of him was saddened that you fell asleep before hearing his confession. But another was grateful and profoundly unprepared for your inevitable rejection.

Steven looked at you for a few more seconds before carefully picking you up—smiling to himself when you curled into his chest—and carrying you to your bedroom.

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

You woke up in a slight daze...and in someone else's bed.

It took a few glances around the room for you to piece together that you were in Steven's room.

And then all of last night's events came back to mind, seeping in and clearing the fog that your excessive alcohol consumption had sired;

Your failed date. Coming home and falling into Steven's arms. Saying way too much to Steven. Steven's last words before your body shut down.

Steven.

"Oh God," you mumbled, cradling your face in your hands.

Eventually, you pulled yourself out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. You thanked whatever higher power was at work that Steven was still asleep on the couch when you padded through the living room.

But when you finished showering and exited the bathroom, you were hit with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You poked your head into the living room to make sure Steven was still in the kitchen before running a path straight to your room and getting dressed.

After throwing on one of your old university crew necks and the first shorts you could get your hands on (which happened to be very short ones), you heard a knock at your door followed by Steven's voice.

"Y/N? I have a cup of green tea and some painkillers here...thought you'd need them."

You found yourself smiling at the sound of his voice, something that was becoming more common in recent weeks. What did you do to deserve a man like Steven in your life?

You quickly moved to open the door and let Steven in. "Hey, Steven," you greeted him with a small smile.

He released a nervous chuckle as he presented a cup and two pills to you. "Good morning."

You took them happily, bringing them to your night table. "I'm not actually feeling very hungover," you said to him, turning to sit on your bed.

"Really? That's surprising...considering last night," Steven replied, taking a hesitant step further into your room.

"Yeah must be my tolerance and all that," you shrugged, taking interest in how Steven had yet to meet your eyes since you opened the door.

A beat of silence passed between you while you took a sip of your tea. "Steven, you can sit," you softly spoke, gesturing to your bed.

"Oh, sure," Steven took a seat at the farthest edge of your bed, maintaining a more than comfortable space between you.

"How'd I end up in your bed this morning?" you suddenly questioned. You were genuinely curious, but the reaction it garnered from Steven was more than worth it.

After a brief clear of his throat, Steven answered, "Well you sorta climbed into my bed in the middle of the night, gave me quite a scare actually, and I wanted to give you space to rest so I let you have my bed and I slept in the couch."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you frowned, a tinge of embarrassment seeping in, "Why didn't you sleep in my bed?"

"Because..." laying in your bed that smells flawlessly like you would've sent him into cardiac arrest- "the couch is more comfortable."

You nodded in understanding, placing your half-empty teacup back on the table.

"If you uh need anything," Steven stood up from your bed, slowly walking backward to the door, "just shout," he said as he turned to open the door.

"Did you mean it?"

Steven halted in place at your words, his back still facing you.

You slid off your bed and approached his oddly still figure.

Steven's throat ran dry. There's no way you could have actually heard him. Right? "What?" is all he managed to say.

You walked past him and used a hand to close the door, coming to stand in front of him. You needed to look at his face. Living with Steven for a year has taught you that he wasn't a man of many words but his face said more than enough when he couldn't. Drunk you couldn't utilize your psych degree the night before, but sober you sure could at that moment.

"Did you mean it?" you repeated, "When you said you fell in love with me?"

Steven's jaw slackened when he met your stare, that feeling of being pierced by your gaze returning. "I-"

Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer to him, now being close enough for his nervous breaths to fan across your lips. "Because if you meant it then I would tell you that. I think..." you paused and looked away for a moment, "No, I know that I love you too."

Steven's hooded brown eyes widened. He blinked a few times, trying to will himself to wake up if this was a dream.

You bit back a small laugh at his expression before you continued. "I love how willing you were to rent some small-time therapist your extra bedroom because you heard her crying in the corner of a coffee shop that she'd been kicked out by her stupid ex-boyfriend. I love the mugs you buy me every month because you saw them and they reminded you of me. I love how you watch shitty action movies with me after every bad date I have because you want to take my mind off them. I love how much you care about...everything really. I love you, Steven Grant," an enlightened smile rested on your face as you spoke, "and I'm sorry that I spent the past year thinking everything you made me feel was platonic when the truth was that you made me feel things that no one else has. I'm an idiot Steven-"

"No," Steven's first word came, a relieved smile accompanying it, "You are not an idiot. You are the smartest person I've ever met. Smarter than me, that's for sure," at that, you both laughed, "I've spent this whole year thinking that you would never see me as anything more than your weird, boring roommate...and turns out you loved me this whole time," he ended in a soft whisper, shocked by his own conclusion. Steven found his eyes drifting down to your lips and you immediately took note of it.

You exhaled deeply before closing the gap between you and Steven, meeting his lips in a bold kiss.

Initially stunned, Steven sunk into your lips soon after, gently bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your face.

Your brain fogged as Steven devoured your lips, an unusual confidence taking over him. You wrapped your hands around his neck and smiled into the kiss, allowing Steven to slip his tongue past your lips, tasting more of you and pulling a moan from your chest.

Steven pulled away first, feeling himself enter a state that he wouldn't dare himself to in your presence. You bit back a whine when his lips left yours, looking up at him in confusion.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he spoke, taking a step away from you.

You licked your lips and stepped towards him. "Steven, trust me, I want to do this. I want to do a lot more than this actually," you pulled his waist flush against your body, drawing a shared moan from you both when his growing bulge pressed against your stomach.

Steven's hands flew up to grab the back of your neck and your jaw. He softly muttered your name, as a warning more than anything else.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss against the corner of his lips. "If you say no, we will stop this right now and go eat breakfast. But if you say yes, we are gonna stay here and I'm gonna let you do very bad things to my body."

Steven swallowed harshly. "God, yes," he replied, failing to swallow back a whimper at the implication of your words.

Your hands squeezed his waist as you moved back to look at his face fully. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that Stevie," you smirked.

Steven looked down at you with adoration clear in his eyes. He couldn't believe this was really about to happen. He used his hold on your neck to pull your lips crashing into his. This kiss was a lot more hungrier than the first, with Steven now making his intentions much clearer.

"I'll take that as a yes," you grinned between kisses.

Steven groaned his agreement as he continued to kiss you.

You used your grip on his waist to push him back towards your bed, effectively breaking your kiss and causing him to land on the edge of your bed with a grunt.

Steven looked up at you through his lashes in awe as you approached him. He watched keenly as you removed your top, wearing nothing underneath, before moving to straddle his thighs. Steven made a move to touch your chest before stopping his shaky hands midair and looking at you in question.

You gently held Steven's chin up and smiled down at him. "Steven you can touch me," you reassured him. Even in an intimate moment like this, he was ever the gentleman...

Steven indulged with a sheepish smile and brought both his palms to each of your breasts. Unable to help himself, Steven dove in and took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud.

"Fuck, Steven," you moaned, eyes slamming shut at how good it felt. Your words only seemed to egg him on further as Steven switched to your other breast, his lips and tongue moving against it with more enthusiasm.

Your hands at the back of his neck grabbed fistfuls of his curls while his ministrations against your chest pulled more moans and whines from your lips.

Some time after, you pulled Steven's lips away from your breasts and met them in a searing kiss, pressing your clothed cunt down against his erection. "Shit," Steven lowly cursed, bringing his hands to your waist to grind you down further against his bulge.

You obliged with a moan, grinding in Steven's lap harder. "Tell me what you want, Steven," you whispered against his lips.

Steven's hands squeezed your waist harshly when your lips began sucking against his throat. He could barely put together thoughts at the moment, much less words.

You trailed a hand down to the waistband of Steven's sweats and slowly reached under it for his cock. You swallowed a moan when your hand traced his full length and girth. "You've been holding out on me Steven," you chuckled against his neck.

Steven blushed furiously at your words. "Thank you?" he responded awkwardly, barely functioning with your hand rubbing along his cock.

You chuckled once again, pulling away from his neck to look at him. "You're so pretty," you said, causing another wave of red to hit Steven's cheeks.

"No one's ever said that to me before," he admitted softly.

"Well that's okay, cause I want to be the only one who makes you blush like this," you grinned brushing a stray curl from his forehead, "I bet your cock is just as pretty," your hand picked up speed beneath Steven's pants, "Can I see it? Please?"

Steven nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you want," he said with a desperation that had your pussy throbbing with need. You briefly lifted your hips allowing Steven to clumsily slide off his sweatpants and boxers and step out of them.

Once you returned to your position on his thighs, you looked down at his cock, the head already dripping with small beads of precum. The length was truly unexpected, as well as the girth. You would do anything to feel him inside you.

But for now, you really wanted to taste him.

Steven watched you sink to your knees before him, your eyes never straying from his.

"Are you sure you want to-"

"Steven you said anything I wanted," you paused, gliding your fingers over his length and watching it twitch in response, "And I really want to taste you. Can I suck your cock, Steven?"

Steven's breathing picked up as he took in the image before him; you on your knees, touching his dick while literally begging to suck it with a look in your eyes he could only compare to the look of a wild female tiger eyeing her freshly caught meal in the nature documentary he watched the week before.

"Please, please do," his response came soon after.

You began with a kiss to the head of his cock that made it immediately jump in your hand. You couldn't help but chuckle, and it was a sound that Steven hoped would be the last thing he heard before he left this earth. "You're so sensitive, Stevie," you cooed before pressing another kiss but to the base of his length.

Steven released a sharp moan at both of your kisses to his cock, finding himself embarrassingly close to cumming already.

"Please," he pleaded your name with a whine, "stop teasing."

You swirled your tongue around the head where precum had gathered, moaning in time with your movements and drawing yet another mewl from Steven. "Oh but Stevie, I just love hearing you say please," you teased him, looking up from where you had a hand wrapped around his base and another briefly caressing his balls.

Steven was now panting, his eyes never leaving you as you held him. He watched you slowly wrap your lips around his tip before slowly sinking down.

After reaching a little more than halfway down Steven's cock, you felt yourself gag but simply stilled instead of removing yourself completely.

"Fucking hell," Steven grunted before melding into a pathetic moan once you held your position. You eventually let up when you almost ran out of air and slowly removed your lips from his dick, your eyes meeting his with tears streaming along your face from the stretch.

You were prepared to do it once again but felt Steven's palm grab your chin before you could. "No, love, please. If you do that again I'm afraid I'm not gonna last."

Steven watched you lick your lips before shifting to trap his thumb in between your lips and softly suck on it. He couldn't stop the whine that slipped his lips at your action.

You eventually released his thumb from the confines of your mouth and came to stand over him with a smile. "Well then. Tell me what you want to do next. I'm all yours, baby, remember?"

Steven brought his hands to rest on your hips and leaned forward to press a soft kiss against your stomach. "I-uhh," his brows furrowed and he shook his head briefly as if sending away a thought.

"What is it, Steven?"

The man beneath you looked up to meet your eager eyes, suddenly confident enough to say what he wanted. "I really...really want to taste you."

You felt your breath hitch at his request. It was rare for a man to enthusiastically offer to go down on you. Though it was clear to you now that Steven was most definitely a rare man.

"You want to?" you felt your voice come out a lot more unsure than usual.

Steven's brows furrowed once again as a fleeting smile graced his lips at your response. "Of course I do, sweetheart. Do men not usually..."

You harshly exhaled. "I mean some do but I usually have to complain first or they do it cause they want me to return the favor," you admitted.

"They don't deserve you. No one does," Steven softly uttered, gazing up at you with eyes you were growing more fond of by the minute.

You quickly leaned down to meet him in a kiss in response. You didn't deserve him either.

Steven pulled you back into his lap and kissed you back eagerly. But he was the first to pull away, causing you to whine in a way that made his cock jump against your cunt. "I-I really did mean it, love, I need to taste you. Now."

You had never seen Steven so demanding. It had you throbbing in anticipation. You allowed him to lay you on your back and peel away your shorts and panties to reveal the part of you where you needed him most.

Steven looked starstruck as he examined your arousal. He moved closer and closer to your pussy, letting his warm breath fan over your glistening lips.

"Steven please-" you begged, though you couldn't finish your thought before your voice broke into a loud moan when Steven licked a stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit.

Steven closed his eyes, relishing his first taste of you. It was everything he'd quite literally dreamed of and more.

And so, he eagerly dived into your core.

Your hands flew to Steven's head working between your legs as your thighs instinctively closed around his head from the sudden wave of pleasure surging through you.

The feeling of your thighs trapping his head against your pussy was absolute bliss to Steven. He moaned into you as his tongue swirled around your clit sloppily. If he was inexperienced, you couldn't tell because every movement of his tongue brought you closer and closer to your release.

The vibrations of Steven's enjoyment drew a brief scream from your chest before you slapped a hand over your lips to silence it.

Steven finally came up for air, his lips and jaws covered in your slick. His curls were strewn along his forehead by a damp layer of sweat as his dilated pupils met your own. "C'mon. I want to hear those pretty noises you make for me, love," he said before running two of his fingers through your folds to gather some of your wetness and slowly inserting them into you.

"Oh my-STEVEN" your back arched up and off your bed as you felt immediately filled up by Steven's digits.

Steven gauged your reactions as he slowly removed his fingers before pushing them again with no resistance due to your arousal. "I've wanted this for so long, love," he began to speak as he slowly leaned down to press his lips against your clit in a kiss, "Wanted to hear you moaning my name," he sped up his fingers' movements inside you, "Wanted to taste you," he added another finger, now touching that spot inside your walls with every thrust, "You're so beautiful," he ended before fully diving back in with his tongue against your bud.

"Yes—fuck—you're so good to me baby," you finally gathered enough breath to speak while gaining a proper grip on his head. With every sharp lick or nip he'd make, you would tighten your grip on his hair and it would only spur him on further. It was only a matter of seconds from there before...

"Shit, I'm gonna cum, Steven," you called out, looking down to meet where he was already staring up at you, and speeding up his fingers and tongue's ministrations against you.

He held your stare once he felt your walls clench around his fingers and heard your moan melt into a scream.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK," you shouted as your orgasm slammed into you thanks to Steven's eager tongue and fingers.

Steven watched your chest slow its heaving when your climax subsided and removed his fingers but couldn't stop himself from licking the remnants of your release from your folds. It was as if he was trying to work you up to another orgasm.

"Shit Steven wait," you mewled, attempting to close your legs from overstimulation. But Steven used strength you'd never known him to have to shove your legs back open and hold them in place, clearly intent on tasting every bit of what you had to offer.

Your eyes widened. "Holy fuck," you removed both your hands from Steven's head and ran them over your face and boobs. He was driving you absolutely insane. If it weren't for his grip on your legs you would be trembling beneath him.

It wasn't long before a second orgasm crept up on you, one more powerful than the last. Your lips parted in a silent scream as your climax washed over your entire body, from your thighs to your feet, to the base of your fucking spine.

Steven couldn't help but stare as he cleaned you up for the last time with his tongue. He couldn't believe he got to see this. To make you feel like this.

Your high subsided soon after and you released a sharp exhale followed by a laugh of disbelief.

Steven moved from his position on his knees before you to hover above you on your bed. "You okay, love?" he questioned in concern

You responded to his question with a satisfied grin. "I'm great, Stevie," you spoke before meeting his lips in a sweet kiss, "But..."

Steven's face fell at your words. He slowly moved from above you to lay next to you, scared to meet your eyes. "I did something wrong didn't I? Or did I forget to do something? I'm sorry-" he rambled, immediately doubting himself.

But his words died in his throat when you turned and caressed his cheek with a hand, your grin still present on your face. "You did nothing wrong," you insisted, "That was no doubt one of the best orgasms of my entire life."

Steven looked away and laughed at your confession. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better."

"I mean it, Steven," your voice grew stern, "That was fucking incredible."

Steven couldn't even formulate a response.

"What I was going to say was," you broke his silence, "I promised you could do bad things to my body and you haven't done nearly enough for me," you ended with a smirk.

Steven grunted when he felt your fingertips run along his cock.

"Don't you want to fuck me, Steven?" you questioned innocently while completely wrapping your hand around and stroking Steven's dick.

He nodded quickly, his bottom lip held between his teeth as he tried not to react to how soft your hand felt around his painfully hard cock. "I do. So badly, love."

You released him and brought a hand over to grab Steven's neck before using your grip to pull him back to his previous position above you. "Then fuck me, Steven. I need you to fuck me," you whispered.

Steven wasted no time in grabbing his length and lining himself up with your entrance. "Are you sure?" he checked in with you once more.

You jerked your hip in the direction of his cock in an effort to fill yourself up but to no avail. You were so damn desperate you didn't care how you sounded. "Yes Steven, please, I need you to fill me up. Fill me up baby, c'mon," you whined hurriedly.

"Well who am I to deny you of what you want, love?" he replied before slowly guiding himself into you.

He immediately groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. "Heavens, love, you're so—aghh—tight," he grunted.

Your moans were never-ending as he sunk into you inch by inch. The stretch was briefly painful but it hurt so good you didn't care.Steven stopped halfway in and leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart," he praised you.

You bit your lip at his praise. "More, Steven, keep going."

Steven obliged and fully sunk into you with one last push. Your moans mixed in the air at the sudden change. "You feel so good inside me Steven, oh my God-" you cried out.

You nearly choked on air when Steven slowly pulled out of your heat before slamming back into you.

"SHIT," you both cursed together before opening your eyes to look at each other.

"Faster, baby, I can take it I promise," you nodded, bringing your hands up to the sides of Steven's face. You even wrapped your legs around Steven's waist.

Steven took a deep breath before pulling out and rutting into you again, now establishing a pace. Which every thrust inside your cunt, Steven grazed your g-spot, effortlessly. It was as if you were built for his cock.

"Fuckin' love the way you fuck me, Steven," you mumbled as Steven set a brutal pace inside you.

Steven leaned down to press his forehead against yours as he continued to fuck you. Your breathing seemed to sync as he pulled out moan after moan from you.

His hands rested at the sides of your head but you could feel them inching closer to your neck.

Your pussy clenched around him at the thought of him choking you. Steven faltered in his thrusts in response. "Love you're squeezing me so hard I don't think I'm gonna last."

"Do it," you called out, tilting your head toward one of his hands.

"What?"

"I can see you thinking about it. Choke me, baby," your chest heaved as you felt your third orgasm of the night approaching.

Steven hesitated for a second before he stopped his thrusts and brought a shaky hand to wrap around your throat.

"I trust you, Steven," you spoke truthfully, "I want this too," you brought a hand to rest over Steven's briefly in reassurance.

Steven began roughly pounding you again with his hand now squeezing around your neck.

"Fuck yes, holy shit," you breathed out, feeling your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head with the newly added feeling of Steven's large hand wrapped around your throat. making you see stars.

Steven, although shocked by your immediate enjoyment of his secret guilty pleasure, took it as a sign to continue. So he trusted faster but made sure to maintain the same amount of pressure on your neck. He then got the idea to use his free hand to reach down and fiddle with your clit while fucking you.

You were instantly thrown over the edge. You came with as best a scream of Steven's name as you could manage with his hand still choking you. Chills ran down your spine while Steven slowed his thrusts inside you and waited for your orgasm to pass.

Eventually, you felt Steven release your neck and slowly begin to remove his cock from your cunt. You tightened your legs around his waist in protest. "Uh uh, we're not stopping till you come inside me, Steven," you demanded.

Steven loved the way you'd been taking control throughout all of this. He'd do anything you asked without a thought. "That's fine with me love," he nodded with a lopsided grin.

"Good," you deeply inhaled before using your hold on his waist to roll him onto his back, with you now straddling him.

You smiled at his shocked expression, which soon morphed into excitement. "You're bloody amazing," he grinned up at you.

You fought the heat that crawled onto your cheeks at his words and looked away with a smile. "Stop sweet talking me and fuck me, Steven."

He nodded quickly, "Yes ma'am." Steven slipped back into your entrance slowly.

But you grew impatient and fully sat down on his cock, loving how full he made you feel. Steven's cries met your ears soon after.

You grabbed his hands and placed each on one of your breasts before beginning to properly ride him. Steven heeded your directions and pawed at your chest while thrusting up to meet your hips.

His grunts soon became whimpers and whines as you rode him harder and faster, eager to make him cum.

"I'm almost there, love," he cried before sitting up and pulling you into his chest. His hands moved down to grip your waist where he guided you faster along his cock.

"There you go, Steven," you held his face against your own as his pace grew sloppy and his brown eyes slid shut.

"Cum for me, baby," you softly spoke with one last grind of your hips. Steven halted inside you with a broken sob of your name and filled you up with his warm release.

You moaned at the feeling of his spend coating your inner walls and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You did so good Steven."

"I love you," his eyes finally opened while he panted, looking up at you with vulnerable eyes as if scared that you wouldn't feel the same after what you had just done together.

"I love you too," you replied without hesitation. You gently shoved Steven onto his back and followed suit, laying down on his chest as you gently removed his softening cock from inside you. You felt his hands move to wrap around your body soon after, bringing you further into his body.

Steven was the first to speak after some time. "I think you're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time," he admitted, turning to look at you, not at all phased by the exhaustion in your features.

You leaned up to meet Steven in a heated kiss. He tightened his hold on you and met your lips with equal fervor. You pulled away reluctantly and looked down at his face with furrowed brows as you used a hand to trace his jaw and swollen lips. "Where have you been hiding my entire life, Steven Grant?"

"Haven't been hiding, love. I've just been here waiting for you."

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

WHEW! This ABSOLUTELY got away from me holy shit. 6k words? yeah, not the plan at all. But hey it's definitely something considering that I haven't been able to sit down and write anything till tonight.

So I really do hope you enjoyed it.

(Lemme go look back through my requests and see what else I can cook up.)

#steven grant smut #moon knight smut #smut #fluff #marvel #imagine #oneshot #steven grant #moon boys #moon knight x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #moon knight fic #moon knight #oscar issac smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction

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wangxianficfinder · 5 months ago

Text

Fic Finder

Feb 5th

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1. hi there! i remember reading this fic ages ago and i can't seem to find it again - lwj has dreams/nightmares about falling. one scene i remember clearly is lwj waking up from a falling nightmare, stumbles and wwx catches him and holds him. i think they were in an inn? it's either canon or post-canon. it would be awesome if you could locate this - i've looked through the various requests others have sent it for hc/touch-starved/nightmares but couldn't locate this particular fic.

FOUND? Bitter Plants Bearing Sweet Fruit by Kryal (M, 83k, WangXian, graphic depictions of violence, canon-typical horror elements, Worldbuilding, Desert, Misuse of Historic Setting, Original Character Death(s), Case Fic, aftermath of canon, ridiculously long author notes, Established Relationship, Nothing Explicit But Shameless Innuendo) It's in a later scene, but Lan Zhan kinda sleeps walks into WWX after his nightmare

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2. hello! looking for a canon divergence fic, set during the sunshot campaign. what i remember is a scene where jc whips wwx with zidian. wwx collapses (having no golden core). lwj, who already knows that wwx has no core, intervenes and brings wwx to the medical tent. if i'm not wrong, there were two versions of the chapter in the medical tent, with a version that's with more jc bashing? I think it's a pretty long read. thank you! @potatokunst

ah this is right thank you thank you! the other version of that scene is in another story in the same series :)

FOUND! these colours fade for you only by doodlebutt (T, 36k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everybody Lives, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, …eventually, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Sunshot Campaign) features Lan Zhan knowing about Wei Ying's missing core, Jiang Chen whipping Wei Ying with Zidian, causing him to collapse, and Lan Zhan rushing in to help him. I don't remember there being two versions of Wei Ying's treatment, though it's been a while since I read it.

as love and its decisive pain by doodlebutt (T, 1k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, alternate ending for chapter 8 of these colours fade for you only, canon-typical violence and injuries, Angst) (the other version if anyone is curious)

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3. Hello again!! This time I’m look for help finding two stories! A) was a 3 chaptered ao3 WIP with inventor Wei Wuxian who made (among other stuff) a spiritual hairpin for jyl, it worked with her pacifist cultivation and slowed or paralyzed fierce corpses… and B) an au that was maybe on tumblr where the empress/empress dowager showed up for wwx because his father was a hidden prince?? I don’t know how much of the story was part of the au and how much I daydreamed so I don’t have more details… @pinsluke

3A)

FOUND! Here Again (Spirits Rise, Unbroken) by TheDefenestrator (T, 74k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Slow Burn, Happy Ending) which is two chapters and a time travel, but definitely has inventor wwx with jyl has a pacifist/tranquility hairpin!

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4. HELP…

I read a fic cannot find WWX is working in an office LAN something and he brings A-Yuan to work still a baby and usually he sleeps in one of the drawers of the file cabinete, LWJ comes in and sees the baby and asks to what WWX says something about he’s, filled correctly , LWJ takes the baby and LQ and LHuan buy all kinds of designer clothing and on their way to the baby furniture store @bkpmystinen

FOUND? Threadfic by 0Pink_Blossoms0

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5. Can you help me find this fanfiction? I’ve never actually read it before but the summary was something about how WWX was forced to marry LWJ after the archery competition when he removed LWJ’s forehead ribbon, and then years later after an unhappy marriage, he finally calls HC and LBH for help. I think HC and LBH are his sworn brothers in this fic, also. @sagegreencomforter

FOUND? The Wrong Choice by XunMichoco (Not Rated, 32k, WangXian, XiCheng, XuanLi, BingQiu, HuaLian, ZhuiLing, LQ/YQ, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, YZY is nice here, JFM being best dad, best sis JYL, JC is protective, Dark LWJ, WWX wants LWJ dead, mentions of xy, Sworn Brothers, Mpreg, YQ respect, SS is nice here, Forced Marriage, LXC is Suffering, From Nightmares)

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6. I have two fics I'm trying to find again. I read them a while ago, so I'm only putting details I'm sure of.

A) Lan Wangji is travelling and comes across a little lost paper man. He finds the silent paper man very endearing and with a lot of personality. They learn to communicate as they travel, and Lan Wangji grows attached. The paper man is obvs Wei Wuxian.

B) a Cloud Recesses fic, based on The Untamed. A Caught At The Cold Pond and Now Arranged To Marry fic. Wangxian are sent to a cabin and isolated there for a little while. I remember one scene where Wei Wuxian is trying to draw and keeps moving Lan Wangji further out of the way because he's mad at him and it makes Lan Wangji cry. There was also a puppy involved and Lan Wangji helping Wei Wuxian participate safely in the puppy's life. There was also something about the house they're in being alive? I think maybe also a winter storm and a dragon.

Anything you can do will be greatly appreciated. You guys do great work. Thank you! 🙏 @feralplantwife

6A)

FOUND! a paper friend by soft_wanning (G, 4k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Paperman WWX, Identity Porn, Meet-Cute, Different First Meeting)

6B)

FOUND! Headband Wedding Bootcamp by gwynseren (M, 50k, WangXian, Accidental Marriage, Misunderstandings, Some Humor)

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7. I hope I'm doing this right, I've never sent in an ask before. Also don't know if what I wrote is appropriate.

There was this one fic, I think it was post-Sunshot campaign, where the abuse Wei Wuxian experienced under Madam Yu was exposed to the cultivation world. The details I remember are that the cultivators thought Jiang Cheng was continuing this abuse and even going further with sexually assaulting Wei Wuxian. The rumors/misunderstanding got to be so bad that Junior Lan Disciples actually stepped in to get Wei Wuxian away from Jiang Cheng after they witnessed a confrontation between the two and Wei Wuxian flinched or backed away from Jiang Cheng.

That's all I can really remember. I don't remember if it was a one-shot, part of a one-shot collection, or an unfinished fic. @freestrawberrynight

FOUND? 🔒chapter 15 of Vrishchika's Short Prompts

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8. for the fic finder! its a time travel fic where wwx falls off the cliff and finds himself in the past then raises his child self as if he were his father, been looking for a while but i just can’t find it myself 😭 @thwispsings

FOUND? In Another Life by SingingInTheRaiin (M, 21k, WangXian, Time Travel, but not the usual way, LWJ is smitten, WWX is a dumbass, LXC knows what's up, Portugese Translation Available)

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9. I’m not sure if it was Wattpad or Ao3 but I remember a scene where Wei wuxian is being stalked by a shadow/ mysterious figure but as the story goes on it turns out it was Lan Wangji from a different universe or time line that lost his Wei Ying so he decided to try to take this Wei wuxian. I think he was also getting memories or visions from far into the future and starts making references from the 20s century. I don’t remember if it was a time travel fic or a MDZS react fic.

FOUND?🔒我拿青春赌明天 / I’ll wager my youth against tomorrow by tombenough_and_continent (T, 37k, WangXian, Science Fiction, Historical, Time Travel, Enemies to Lovers)

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10. Hii, for fic finder. I've been looking in my bookmarks for a while but can't find it smh :( all I remember was Madam Yu hits a yuan with zidian

FOUND? Consequences by Remma3760 (Not Rated, 58k, WangXian, XiSu, XuanLi, Canonical Child Abuse, Abusive YZY, Good Uncle LQR, WWX is a Lan, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Bad Parents JFM and YZY) the whipping happens in chapter 25

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11. For a Fic Finder - I'm looking for a fic that i thought i had bookmarked. As usual, i can't find it, and don't recall the title.

It's set after Wei Ying loses his core, etc. The three siblings are back at Lotus Pier. Wei Ying is pretty drunk all the tome. So Yanli and Jiang Cheng write to Lan Zhan & adk him to take WY to Gusu to heal or detox. WY isn't happy but he goes. Then evades LZ's efforts to cleanse the resentment. One day he's in the back meadow & meets a tiny toddler Jingyi who is upset, i forget why. They make friends. There is a mystery about an array that kept Madam Lan stuck in her house (in the story it's not the Jingshi). I think WY figures out that her essence is still trapped. The boys end up freeing her, she borrow's WY's body long enough to talk to LZ. Turns out she's a Heavenly Official and LZ and Lan Xuchen are demigods. Before she leaves, she gived WY a part of her strong goldrn core. At the end of the fic, they confess, and the guys adopt little Jingyi, and obviously live happily ever after.

Any help tracking thid down is so much appreciated!

NOT FOUND! Practical Considerations by teawater, the_anthropologist (E, 97k, WangXian, JC & WWX, LXC & WWX, LQR & WWX, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, Found Family, Spouses to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Politics, Scheming, Lán Elders are assholes, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, eventually BAMF LXC, learning to make decisions, Learning Self-worth, Self-Esteem Issues, Sweet Wangxian, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, JC is a big asshole, he improves somewhat but it’s open-ended, WWX learns to stand up for himself, Quote: Come Back to Gusu With Me, POV wwx, POV LWJ, POV JC, Golden Core Reveal, Teacher wwx, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Alcohol as a Coping Mechanism, Past Suicidal Thoughts, Post-Sunshot Campaign, WWX Protection Squad, Feelings Realization, WWX protector of the twin jades, Protective LWJ, Protective WWX, Protective LQR, Demonic Cultivator WWX, WWX is Loved, Married WangXian, Genius WWX, Everybody Lives)

FOUND! if i had the strength by agloeian (M, 16k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Fix-It, somewhat of a case fic, Heaven Official's Blessing inspired gods & ghosts, Mild Alcohol Abuse, (see WWX's canonical coping mechanisms), Mental Health Issues, WWX is not in a great place for a lot of this fic, He Gets Better Though!, this fic is all about learning to give yourself the help you give others tbh, Baby LJY, recovery fic, Accidental Baby Acquisition)

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12. I remember starting a fic where LWJ stabbed himself and WWX through with Bichen before the 33 Lan elders could get to them and now I can't find it anymore. I pretty sure it was some type of time travel fix-it and I think LWJ apologized to Bichen for using it to hurt WWX or smth. If you could somehow find it I would be eternally greatful ♡

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13. I apologize if I have already sent this ask, I cannot remember.

For fic finder, I’m hunting down a fic that didn’t say it took place in Sacramento CA but almost certainly did. I remember almost nothing else about it other than the Jiangs live in the Bay Area, lwj lives in a town that “people don’t usually move to” and wwx moves to the area and lwj shows him around to things like apple hill or the costume mansion. This is like. A super specific and weird request but iykyk

Thank

FOUND? so hot you're hurting my feelings by isabilightwood (E, 40k, WangXian, JYL/WQ, Modern, Oblivious LWJ, Didn't Know They Were Dating, no moms were harmed in the making of this fic, mama lan took LQR in the divorce, LWJ Has Friends, all WWX characterization decisions were made to make LWJ pine harder for his own boyfriend, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Bottom LWJ, Halloween, WWX's birthday, Sub LWJ, Light Dom/sub, Spanking)

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14. Hi, I'm looking for a fanfic about Dragãoji and Foxxian where they were in a marriage contract because Foxxian was fertile. I only read the synopsis where Jiang Cheng said: if you marry him they will give us an army. Now I feel like reading it but I lost it. @quwieiidkd

FOUND? heavy is the crown by sweetlolixo (E, 58k, WangXian, High Fantasy, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Romance, Dubious Consent, Warrior LWJ, Pregnant WWX, Language Barrier, Size Kink, Dark Royalty, Game of Thrones!Drogo/Daenerys Premise, Eventual Happy Ending, Breeding Kink, Arranged Marriage, Everyone Falls In Love With WWX At First Sight, Rape/Non-con Elements)

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15. Hi, I have a request for Ficfinder. I read a story awhile ago. I don't remeber much of it, just one scene where both Ln Zhan and Jiang Cheng were making soup for Wei Wuxian. Both were sure they were making his favourite, Jiang Cheng was making the lotus root and pork rib soup while Lan Zhan was making egg drop soup.

This was after the Burial Mounds, so Wei Wuxian had stopped eating meat. i think it was all about which one knew him best? Not really sure. Any help finding this story would be much appreciated. Thanks. @remma3760

FOUND! Where the Winds of Change Blow by merakily (G, 17k, WangXian, Angst and Humor, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core, Family Bonding, Flashbacks)

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16. Hi I'm looking for a fic that I found through here lol. It's cssr & wcz survive but are very injured, wy is in a coma for a bit. They get to Lotus Pier to recover and it was a longer fic. That's all I remember 😅

FOUND? Building a home by R95irth (T, 586k, WCZ/CS, JFM/YZY, WangXian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, 3zun, BSSR/LY, MS/Sisi, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Everyone Lives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Horror, Nightmares, Canon-Typical Violence, Complete list of ships in the serie summary, Family Fluff, Found Family, Babies, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, but not done by the Lotus Pier squad, Also JGS exists so canon related things linked to him, Same goes for Lan parents)

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17. Hi I was looking for these two very specific fanfics that I think I read on Wattpad years ago!

A) The First one is like: (Alternative AU) Wei wuxian and Jiang chang go to this school together and they like each other but the other person does not know they like each other and then Wei wuxian meets the principle's son lan zhan and they fall in love but Jiang chang is still in love with Wei wuxian and the story continues.

B) The second one is like: Wei wuxian time travels back to his past after he falls down the cliff and then tries to harm himself to stop the future from hapenning but his loved him stop him and the story continues. (like angsty at first and then turns to comfort - also I remember Jiang chang after knowing the truth becomes super protective of Wei wuxian in this story)

I honestly appreciate all your help - I have been trying to find them for ages but they seem to have disappeared :(

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18. hi!! for the next fic, would would you mind finding this one fic of an alternate universe, modern setting? In this fic, Wei Ying was a single adopted parent to A-Yuan I think, and he takes A-Yuan to a hockey camp where there is a guest coach who turns out to be Lan Wangji. Wei Ying and Lan Wangji used to play hockey together in college or something but Wei Ying had to drop out to help out Wen Qing and raise A-Yuan and disappeared for a few years. Anyway that is most of what I remember for this fic but it was super cute and I really want to reread it. I’ve tried every tag I can think of but I just can’t find it. Looking forward to hearing back from you if you can find it!! Thanks! @roundhen

FOUND?🔒Never Have To Ask by literaryoblivion (T, 14k, WangXian, Modern AU, Hockey, Kid Fic, Mentioned JYL, Mentioned JC, Fluff and Angst, Single Parent WWX, NHL Player LWJ, POV WWX, Past Character Death, Minor Character Death, Mentioned WQ, Car Accidents, Pining, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Reunions, Mentioned Junior Ensemble, First Kiss, Requited Unrequited Love, Requited Love, Flashbacks)

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19. Hi so I was trying to find a fic that I listened to a few months ago I have no idea where it is right now because I did not add it or bookmarked it so it's a podfic. I know it is it's modern setting with magic wwx is a demonic cultivator and lwj is a cultivator they work together or something and they were like on a case about a haunting of the some house and wwx get injured or something or he performed empathy and lwj is so worried so he takes him home to wwx's apartment and the apartment building is where the wen lives and he sees them talks to them for a bit and then went to wwx's apartment turns out wwx apartment is haunted but the ghost is just like harmless or something I remember one Pacific scene where lwj is laying down on the bed and the ghost is right above him and then wwx wakes up and says to the ghost "knock it off"or something along those lines that's all I remember @constancebloodstone

FOUND? when I look over my shoulder by cafecliche (T, 10k, WangXian, Modern AU, exorcist LWJ, medium wwx, vague The Conjuring AU, some horror elements, Pre-Relationship, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort)

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20. Hello! First, great work. Now, I'm looking for a fic where LZ is de-aged by a deity during a nigh hunt close to the burial mounds and this results in the truth about WY being revealed and he gets his core back thanks to the deity too. I think LXC and NMJ are there too. Thanks in advance. @multitudeofmes

FOUND! A Child’s Wish by Hauntcats (Not rated, 13k, WangXian, WWX & Wen remnants, Celestial meddling, Not JC Friendly, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone gets what they deserve, Age Regression/De-Aging, Child LWJ)

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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saltnsugarbear · 8 months ago

Text

your hands are all over my scent

summary: The Bear hosts a friends and family Halloween party after hours! Being Sydney's childhood friend, she invites you to meet everyone!

title from: "Halloween" by Noah Kahan

word count: 0.6k

content warnings: reader is the same age as Syd which makes them younger than Richie, playboy bunny costume, swearing, Sydney mentions stabbing Richie again <3

divider by @strangergraphics

"Oh no. Nope, no, no way. Don't even think about it." Sydney says firmly from where she stands beside Richie.

"What the fuck are y'talkin' about?" Richie ashes his cigarette, looking over at her. He has to pretend like he wasn't watching the way the fluffy cottontail bounced when you walked to the drink table.

"Oh-o, you know what I'm talking about.." Syd's eyes get wide with emphasis as she looks back at you inside.

They both watch you as order some Halloween special Fak and Sweeps made up at the bar. When you're done, you turn around and make a beeline for the door. You don't bother grabbing your coat as you walk out of the building, spotting Sydney and Richie near the entrance of the alley. There's an added spring to your step as you go over to the duo, spotting Richie's cigarette in between his fingers.

"Can I have a hit?" Your eyes are bright as you look at Richie.

The look in your eyes makes his brain pause. You're looking up at him expectantly, the bunny ears on top of your head are slightly crooked.

After a moment Richie's brain catches up and he clears his throat. He can feel Sydney's eyes on him as he nods.

"Yeah, sure.." Richie holds out his hand for you to take the cigarette. You're not quite sure what possesses you in this moment but instead of taking the cigarette from Riche's hand, you grab his wrist gently and bring the butt of the cigarette to your lips.

Richie can see Sydney bury her face in her hands in his periphery, but his eyes are transfixed on where your lips wrap around the cigarette. You take a long drag, before you remove your lips and take his hand away.

There's a ring of your lip gloss around the filter that Richie can't look away from. You move your head away from Syd and Richie to release the smoke from your lungs. You miss the way Richie glances over at Sydney, who's already glaring at him.

"Thanks!" You chirp, giving Richie a bright smile.

"Yeah, 's no problem.." Richie clears his throat again, rubbing the tip of his nose with his thumb. You turn to Sydney, placing your hand on her elbow.

"I ordered us that vampire blood cocktail that Sweeps made up! I'll hold on to yours for you!" You smile at her sweetly. With that, you're walking back inside, fake rabbit ears bouncing with each step.

Silence settles over Richie and Sydney as the door shuts behind you. He can feel her gaze burning into his profile as he stares at the spot where you were just standing.

"I didn't do anything!" Richie insists, holding his hands up in a display of innocence.

"You let them hit your cigarette!" Sydney exclaims.

"What was I supposed to say? No? Like a jagoff?" Richie sounds offended at the mere idea.

"I'm going to stab you again.." Sydney grumbles, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets.

"You're the one who brought them to this thing..." Richie mutters, bringing his cigarette to his lips. He inhales along the filter as Sydney grumbles beside him, kicking pebbles along the pavement. Richie grumbles back at her mockingly, a habit he's picked up from Eva recently.

"Just don't..." Sydney sighs. She puts her hands in front of her in a 'stop' motion. "Don't like... Pursue them if you're not actually interested. If you're just looking for like.. A quick fuck, they're not the person to choose.."

"Too old for a one night stand.." Richie scoffs, "Don't have to worry, bout it. Can look without touching, can't I?"

"Oh gross.." Sydney exclaims, shaking her head. "Don't do any of that near me."

With that last piece, Sydney turns to go inside, shaking her head like she's trying to forget the words Richie said.

Richie rolls his eyes as Sydney goes back inside, looking around the empty street before turning back to The Bear.

"Fuckin' playboy bunny..." Richie mutters as he flicks his cigarette to the ground. He watches as you hand Sydney her glass, eyes shut as you smile at her.

"Fuckin' bunny.."

#saltnsugarbear #not enough sugar #bearblrpromptober #saltnsugarbear promptober #richie jerimovich fanfiction #richie jerimovich imagine #richie jerimovich x reader #the bear fanfiction

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scribbledghost · 19 days ago

Note

Hello! I absolutely love all of your writing about the vessels in their manor, especially the poly vessels stuff. I'd love something with poly vessels where everyone except reader has been collared by ii and they want to be collared by him as well but think he doesn't want to, but really he's just been taking things slowly so he doesn't rush or force the reader into anything. Maybe they came to ivy about their feelings first to confide in him. Would love a soft and maybe smutty ending with ii <3

Note: typically in my fics it's the reader doing the collaring, so this will be an interesting shift lol. Thank you for sending this in! Tags: GN!Reader, collaring, oral (m receiving), penetration from behind (cringed typing that but it's the only way I can think of to describe it without gendered terms lmao)

Collar

"Can I ask you something?"

IV instantly looks over at you. The two of you have been wandering around the manor gardens for a bit together, a frequent activity for you both, but something has been eating at your mind for some time now. You haven't yet developed the courage to speak directly about it to the vessel in question, but IV is particularly easy to confide in.

"This is about II, isn't it?" he asks smoothly.

You keep forgetting your thoughts aren't secret unless you will them to be around here.

"I... yeah, it is."

"He doesn't hate you, you know."

You sigh. It's not that you think he hates you - his behavior is more than enough to reassure you to the contrary - but there is something that you continue to be reminded of on an almost daily basis:

Everyone except for you bears some sort of collar from II.

Vessel has more of a necklace, something to still symbolize his connection with II but without the constrictive nature of standard collars. III and IV have more traditional ones; black leather with metal rings on the front (though II has threatened more than once to add a bell to III's to "keep an eye on the jackass").

Meanwhile, II himself bears a single necklace that sports three keys. None of the others' collars have locks and can be removed at will, so the necklace he wears is a purely symbolic gesture on II's part. Something about how it "wouldn't feel right to have them tied to him without something to tie him to them in return".

But he's never approached you about getting one yourself. You've been in a courtship with the rest of the vessels for months now, but it has yet to come up. You don't want to push too much for it, instead choosing to deliberately think about it every so often when II is around. But nothing has ever happened. At least, not yet.

"You need to talk to him, you know," IV finally says. "Out loud."

You have to admit he's right. Thinking up conversations, while more than feasible with the vessels, can't always cross the kind of barriers you need to cross.

You find II in his study later that evening, reading over Vessel's latest offering and beginning to write the drum portion of it. You hear him faintly tapping at his desk as he works out the rhythm he wants. On his desk sits his mask, discarded for now.

You can come in, you know, his voice finds you through your mind. Don't have to stand out in the cold.

Gently, you walk over to him. He turns to meet you, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he looks up at you.

What's on your mind, dove?

You don't particularly have it in you to say it out loud just yet, so you project to him instead.

Why haven't you given me a collar yet?

II looks at you, an unreadable expression on his face. He stands from his chair, hooking a finger under your chin to ensure you look him in the eye.

Do you want one?

Yes, you answer plainly.

"Say it then," he says aloud. "Use your words."

The tinge of dominance in his tone sends heat crawling up your face.

"I want a collar."

II smiles at you, using the finger under your chin to guide your lips to his.

"Then a collar you shall have," he says. "Give me a few days to find one. I want it to be perfect."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," you blurt out without thinking. This causes II to pause, furrowing his brows slightly.

"What makes you think I don't want to?" he asks softly.

You stumble over your words, finally managing to convey how you didn't think he wanted you to partake in that aspect of your relationship considering he hadn't brought up the subject himself yet.

Oh love, II projects to you as he pulls you in for a kiss. It's not that I didn't want to. Just wanted to take things slow. Didn't want you to feel like you had to do this.

He pulls away from you only to tilt his head forward and rest his forehead against yours.

I'll work on finding you one today. You'll know when I have one.

It's three days later when II summons you to his quarters. You're with III at the time, and he gives you a knowing look when you take your leave.

II is standing in the middle of the room when you find him, one hand behind his back and his face maskless as he extends his other hand for you to take. You place your hand in his, and he leads you to his desk, atop of which lay a selection of skeleton keys.

Pick one, he says as he stands behind you, one arm wrapping around you to rest his hand on your stomach.

"Pick one?" you ask aloud. II kisses your neck and projects to you again.

I picked yours, he says. You pick mine.

The keys on his necklace. Of course.

You look over the keys for a few moments, never once feeling rushed or as if II is in any particular hurry. He gently rubs his thumb back and forth on your stomach, resting his chin on your shoulder. Your gaze keeps returning to one key in particular: a medium-sized brass one, a simple design aside from a small sapphire inlaid in the stem of it. It reminds you of his eyes.

You pick it up, turning in II's hold to present it to him. He gives you a soft smile before bringing his hand out from behind his back to present you with your collar.

It is also a simple design. It could be mistaken for a regular choker necklace if one didn't realize what it was for; a thin leather band, with a silver o-ring in the center, and hanging from the ring is a silver pendant of two crossing scythes. It's simple and discreet, yet still a symbol of what the two of you mean to each other.

"It's perfect," you breathe, and II seems to sigh in relief.

Turn around, he says, and you obey almost on instinct. He places the collar around your neck, adjusting the buckle tighter and looser depending on your feedback until it feels snug, but not constrictive. Just to make sure it's not too tight, he slips two fingers beneath it before allowing you to turn back to face him.

He hands you the key you've chosen, and removes the necklace that bears the other three from around his neck. He extends it to you for you to take, and you gently thread your key onto it before he turns his back to you as well.

It takes little time for you to drape the necklace over him and re-fasten it around his neck, after which he turns around and brings his hands up to your jawline. II brings you in for a kiss, then another, then another. As he pulls away from you, he hangs one finger from the ring in your collar, not quite tugging you but rather settling as a weight.

You wanna give this a go now, or wait until later? he asks. You gaze at him, his pupils dilated and his features soft.

Now, you reply.

II gives you a grin, his sharp canines gleaming at you.

"Beautiful."

He guides you to the bed, sitting down at the edge of it as he tugs at your collar.

Kneel.

You obey on instinct, settling onto your knees in front of him. His legs spread, and you can see the imprint of him in his pants, already hard with a noticeable wet patch.

II tugs down his pants, just enough to release his cock to the open air. Leaning forward, he hooks a finger into your collar and begins to bring you forward.

Open that pretty mouth for me, he instructs, taking himself in one hand and guiding your mouth to him.

He keeps perfect control over your pace with a grip on the collar. Any time you attempt to move too fast, he gently pulls you backwards until you slow to his preference. The weight of him on your tongue, coupled with the scent and taste of him, sends a shock of arousal pulsing through your veins. The sensation is only heightened when you hear low groans and throaty growls coming from the man above you.

However, II doesn't wish to come down your throat. Not this time.

Alright, he says after a time, once again pulling you back and off of him by the collar. On your feet.

You stand slowly, limbs stiff from remaining in one place. Your hands find II's shoulders as you stand between his legs, and he leans forward to press a kiss to the center of your chest over your clothes. He says nothing as he disrobes you, helping you step out of your pants and underwear before lifting your other garments away from your torso.

On the bed, love, he says after a kiss to your collarbone. Hands and knees. Present yourself for me.

You do as he asks, feeling vulnerable and exposed, but not necessarily in a negative way. You can feel II's appreciative gaze from behind you, enhanced by the bridge to his mind. A soft hand grazes the skin of your ass before he trails it up your back and to your collar. He turns it until the ring is facing him, then grips it to ground you.

"Ready?" he asks aloud. You attempt to nod, but the collar keeps you in place, so you hum in the affirmative.

II enters you slowly, combining the use of his hips with the pull of your collar to help sheathe himself fully. His breath is shallow as he stills, allowing you precious time to adjust to the girth of him.

Fuck, you look so fucking good like this, he praises. That collar feel good still?

You once again give him an affirmative hum, unable to think of much else besides the feeling of fullness and the pressure of the leather band against your throat.

He starts slow, letting you feel every inch of his cock as it drags through you. You allow yourself to let the rest of the world fall away, leaving just the two of you in your thoughts. Nothing else matters right now, only II and his movements.

Over time, his pace increases, and the grip on your collar gets more firm. One of II's hands finds your hip, helping to bring you back onto him. After a bit longer of being at his mercy, he shifts, pushing at your collar instead of pulling, sending your head and upper torso down onto the mattress below. His other hand comes to rest next to your head, helping to take some of the pressure off of your neck to ensure your airflow is never cut off.

Touch yourself, he commands. Wanna feel you come around my cock like this.

Your hand moves of its own accord, your mind empty except for the bliss coursing through your veins. II's pace has increased to a fever pitch, helped along by his particular inhuman ability of speed. The knot in your core tightens to a nearly unbearable degree, and it only takes one slight tug of your collar to make the coil snap.

You come hard, vision blurring at the edges as you cry out. II slows somewhat, allowing you to stave off the pressure of overstimulation while still chasing his own high.

The cycle continues again, however, and you come twice more before II's pace even begins to falter from its steady rhythm. Suddenly, he drapes himself over you, pressing his weight down over your back as he keeps a grip on your collar. With one final press, he buries himself to the hilt, a deep groan reverberating from his lungs as he fills you.

Little noise can be heard now aside from your heavy breaths, coupled with the quiet sound of II's lips against your skin from behind.

So good, he projects to you. Did so fucking well, dove.

You bask in the glow as II slowly removes himself from you, padding over to the attached bathroom to fetch something to clean you with. He'd already prepared a glass of water on the bedside table, though how you missed it until now will remain a mystery to you.

II returns, sitting next to you on the bed. He runs a gentle hand over your skin before he begins to tend to you, his touch so soft it nearly puts you to sleep. No words are said, none are even projected. Just thoughts of care, tenderness, and appreciation.

The keys around his neck catch the light every so often, reminding you that he belongs to you just as much as you belong to him.

#ii x reader #sleep token x reader #smut #ghost scribbles

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enha-roza · 18 days ago

Text

PERIOD CRAMP SIMULATOR

Enhypen x 8thmember!oc & 9thmember!oc

Synopsis : Roza and Sooyoung force the Enhypen boys to try a Period Cramp Simulator.

wc : 1.1k

The members were playing around with some electric muscle stimulators on live when Roza got a good idea. “You guys should put these on your stomach and see who can handle them the best!” she shouted, sounding thrilled at this idea.

All seven boys' faces dropped and real fear set in. “No way am I doing that!” Jake protested. “Why, me and Unnie go through it all the time. You will be fine.” Sooyoung begged. “Are you sure? You guys always are scrunched over in pain.” Heeseung said, looking more and more pale at the thought. “If you love us, you'll do it.” Roza eyed. And within minutes Heeseung and Jungwon hooked up.

“Okay level 1.” Roza said as she turned up the dial. “Woah.” Jungwon whispered. “Yeah I can feel it… ughhh” Heeseung groaned. “This is only level 1, why are you groaning?” Roza said as she then turned it up to level 2, then 3, then level 4. “Level 4.” she smiled sneakily at Sooyoung.

“LEVEL 4!” “WHAT!” both boys exclaimed at the sudden change of plans to go level by level. “Oww shi- ummm…” Heeseung quickly said to avoid swearing on live. “Okay higher?” Roza questioned. “No, I can't. It hurts too bad.” Jungwon said taking the muscle stimulator off. Roza watched as Heeseung tried to bear the pain. “One more..” Roza complied, turning the dial up one more level. “Level 5.”

All of them watched as Heeseung tried his hardest to bear the pain. “I'm impressed.” Sooyoung whispered. “One more?” Roza’s hands reaching for the dial. Heeseung reached out, stopping her from turning it higher. “No, I'm done.” He quickly removed the pads from his abdomen.

“Who's next?” Sooyoung said with a slight sinister smile on her face. “Sunoo and Jay!” Niki shouted and watched as the poor boys got connected to the simulators. “This time I promise I'll go easy.” Roza said. “Why didn't you do that with us?” Jungwon pouted. “Because I knew you could handle it, Wonie.” she patted his head returning to face her two victims.

“Okay ready, level 1” The two girls watched as Jay and Sunoo’s faces contorted slightly. “It kinda tickles…” Jay said but soon regretted his words as Roza turned it up. “Level 2.” “Okay now it hurts.” Sunoo tried his best to meditate and not focus on the pain. “Sunoo’s doing good.” Jake said, watching as Jay was less calm and collected.

“Level 3.” Roza laughed as Jay bent over in pain. “How is this level three…” he groaned. Sunoo’s meditation was working less and less as the levels went on. “Level 6… wow they're doing pretty good.” Roza half laughed at Jay's bright red face and Sunoo’s pained expression was evident. “Okay i'm done!” Jay yelled as he fell to the floor. “Me too.” Sunoo said as Roza turned the machine off. “Hey, you did better than Hee and Jungwon.” Sooyoung Said. “Take that!” Jay said in Heeseung's face. “Yeah, whatever…” Heeseung laughed.

“Okay Jake and Niki’s turn.” Sooyoung said, grabbing the dial from Roza. “what no, i don't trust you..” Jake said half in fear for his life. “Why, I'll do it normally, I promise.” her pinky stuck out. “That's the first time ive heard you say that ever.” Niki eyed. “No, I promise really…” “fine.” Niki laughed as they got connected to the simulator. “Level 1.” Niki’s eyes bulged out of his head. “This is level 1, what the fu-” Roza quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, aware of Niki’s tendency to let swear words slip. “Watch it.” “sorry…” Jake laughed at him which only made it hurt more. “Oww…” “next level.” Sooyoung cheered a little too happy at the boy's pain.

“This thing is too powerful.” Jake cried in pain, hunching over like Jay did. “How are you supposed to get to level ten?” Niki sighed. The next couple of levels were a blur, Jake dropped out at level 4 and Niki was going on, determined to beat Jay and Sunoo.

“Level 6” Sooyoung turned it up once more and watched Niki's eyebrows scrunched together. “Ahhhh, how do girls do this every month?” “because we are goddess’” Sooyoung jokes. “Ready for the next level?” Roza asked. “Sure…” Niki said, voice wobbly.

“Level 7” Sooyoung said as Niki’s sweat dripped down his chin. “Ah shit-” he slipped out of his mouth before anyone could stop him. Heeseung slapped him on the arm. “Yah!” “don't hit me, I'm fragile…” Niki begged as he too fell to the floor like Jay. “okay i'm done i can't do this any longer.” he ripped the muscle stimulator off. “I'm free!” He shouted, rubbing his hands over his abdomen. The members burst out laughing, never having seen Niki like this.

“Sunghoon…” Roza smirked as she eyed him. “I'm gonna beat Niki.” He said, letting his competitive nature take over. “Okay i'll do it at the same time.” Roza challenged. “See how good you truly are.”

Both got the electric pads put on and sat ready for level one. “Ready?” Both nodded and the shocks came quickly. “Woahhh.” Sunghood said, hand reaching out and gripping Roza’s. “Owww” Roza squealed not from the machine but from Sunghoon’s tight grip. “Next level.” Sooyoung laughed as she secretly turned it up higher. “Ahhhh. There is no way this is level 2.” Sunghoon groaned. Roza looked over at the dial. “Level 5!” she laughed as Sunghoon glared at her. “This isn't funny.”

“Does it not hurt?” Jungwon asked as Roza sat calmly next to Sunghoon who was gripping her hand and hunching over in pain. “It does but I'm just used to the pain. Most of my cramps are way worse than this.” The boys looked shocked as Sooyoung nodded in agreement.

“I promise I'll do one level this time.” Sooyoung smirked as she eyed Sunghoon. “Yeah, whatever, hurry up.” He sighed. “Level 6.” “It just gets worse no matter what I do.” Sunghoon cried. “Yep, that sums up cramps.” Sooyoung laughed. The time passed with Sunghoon and Roza doing level 7 and now on level 8. Roza still sat next to Sunghoon like normal, the most pain coming from Sunghoon’s death grip on her hand. “Are you a witch? How are you doing this?” Sunghoon questioned. “Just a woman, sadly.” she laughed at him.

“I can't give up!” He shouted, ripping the pads off, just happy he beat Niki. “You guys are weak.” Roza taunted. “Turn it up to level 10.” she challenged and Sooyoung did just that. The boys watched as Roza berley reacted, only flinching a little at the sudden power. “Okay, it hurts but again I'm just used to the pain.” “How is that possible…” Heeseung whispered as he watched.

“Okay that's it.” Sooyoung said turning the machine off now Roza had completed all the levels. “Like a pro!” the girls laughed. “I have a new respect for you guys, that pain wasn't easy.” Niki laughed. “It felt like my insides were getting punched over and over again.” Jake whined, holding his stomach like he could still feel the pain. “Now you know.” Roza smirked.

a/n : fun little post!! love this one <3

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beeing1alive · 10 months ago

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Hola! Can I request TR boys (whoever you want but pls add Rindou😭) with a reader who struggles with drug addiction? And even if she doesn't take very dangerous ones, she still drinks study pills/drugs everyday?

Note: heyy, thanks for the sweet message, I don't really write about such topics but I tried

!Warnings: drugs, light nsfw, weed!

Also takes drugs, even regularly and will take them with you, because what is hotter than being high together? Nothing. Then you lie in bed together, high and simply satisfied. Well, nevertheless, he will make sure that you both do not overdose, he could not bear to lose you. Will also pay attention to what you take and also how, so that nothing worse happens.

Sanzu; bonten!mikey; Hanma, ran; Kazutora

Only takes drugs occasionally, but then harmless ones, such as weed. Sometimes his daily work life is just so stressful that he needs a joint or two to calm down. Then he'll enjoy sitting on the balcony with you, sharing a joint together and just being completely relaxed and satisfied.

Rindou, Mitsuya, Hakkai, Draken, Baji, Nahoya, Kisaki

Has an absolute dislike for drugs. Doesn't take any, has never taken any and never will. Tries 110% to get you off, partly because it's just unhealthy and partly because it stinks, especially if you smoke weed. But can't deny that it is great sex when you are high, you are just more sensitive and so on, he doesn't want it, but he can't say that it doesn't make him horny.

Takemichi, souya, Chifuyu, Akkun, Naoto

I also wrote other scenarios for him and other characters, so here is my masterlist if you want to check it out, requests are open <3

Attention: The characters and the gif do not belong to me. All credits go to the actual owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed, please write to me.

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scary-grace · 4 months ago

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if my heart was a house (chapter 3) - a shigaraki x f!reader fic

It's been nineteen years since Tomura was sentenced to death, and you've built a life in the space he left behind, braced each day for the worst. You're prepared for everything - the questions your daughter asks, the memories that sting a little more in the winter, the specter of the news you've been afraid of for years. But of all the things life's thrown your way, it's the one you haven't dared to hope for might be the one thing you can't handle. (cross-posted to Ao3) The prequel can be found here: what I can't remember now written for @pixelcafe-network's Challenge Friday event! Banner/divider by @cafekitsune extra-special thanks this time to @shigarakislaughter for the emergency beta-read!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3

It’s two am, and you gave up on the idea of sleeping well before midnight. Midoriya Izuku apparently wasn’t planning to sleep at all. When you called around eleven, hoping he’d be asleep and you’d have until morning to brace yourself, he picked up the phone, sounding just as chipper as he does in every one of his voicemails. And he’s a talker. You’ve been on the phone since eleven, and you aren’t sorry about it. There’s a lot you need to catch up on. And you’re not the only one. Spinner’s on the line, too.

Spinner was Tomura’s best friend before, and Spinner’s pissed at you. You can tell, and part of you just wants to poke the bear and end the suspense about why. But you want to hear what Midoriya has to say even more, and Midoriya is a seemingly endless fount of information about the state of the death penalty and life in prison. You avoided learning very much about this during the trial. You were trying to hold onto hope, and it already wasn’t working very well. Most of what Midoriya says is news to you. You’re taking notes.

It’s only once he’s given you and Spinner a thorough background in the whole thing that he starts in about Tomura’s case in particular. “What’s interesting about Shigaraki’s case — the thing that jumped out at me first — is the life sentence. The court imposed the death penalty for six of the murders, but tacked on a life imprisonment for the seventh. It got lost in the shuffle of the death penalty thing —”

“Yeah, I never heard about that,” Spinner says. “Did you?”

“I did, but it didn’t mean anything to me,” you say. “It was all just awful. It all meant he’d never be free again.”

“I hear you. But it meant something for sure,” Midoriya says eagerly. “The victim in the life-sentence case was Shigaraki’s biological father.”

You curse. You can’t stop yourself, and Spinner’s voice takes on a note of urgency. “What was that? What do you mean?”

“His dad was –” You hated him when you first heard about him. Now that you’re a parent, you hate him even more, and your limbs start to hum with fury, such that you have to get up and walk it off. “His dad’s the reason Tomura ended up with his adoptive father. He hurt Tomura. I don’t know everything, but it was bad enough that they took Tomura away from the family.”

“So there were mitigating factors,” Spinner says suddenly. “They knew that at the trial?”

“Yes. I dug up a psych evaluation from after Shigaraki was removed from his biological parents’ care, and it had PTSD written all over it. Literally.” Midoriya pauses for breath, then launches back in. “And there’s no evidence that his adoptive father ever pursued treatment for him. Which is — we’ll get into that in a second. Anyway, the fact that the court recognized a mitigating factor in one of the cases signaled to me that there might be room for movement on the death sentence. If I could prove that the same mitigation factor existed across all the murders.”

“We tried that the first time around,” you say. “It didn’t work.”

You remember how dismissive the defense attorney was to you, how it was clear he’d already written Tomura off, how all the money you and Spinner and the others raised wasn’t enough to hire someone who cared. “I heard things have changed a little bit,” Spinner says. “Not a lot, but — Twice counsels kids who are in the system, and he says that they look at that stuff in juvenile sentencing.”

“It’s spilled into adult sentencing as well. The older generation of judges and prosecutors is retiring and the newer ones aren’t as hard-line,” Midoriya adds. “I felt pretty hopeful for at least getting the death penalty knocked down to life for Shigaraki. But once I started looking at the old trial, it was a mess. There was a lot of reason to doubt that Shigaraki actually knew what he was doing at the time of the murders — and when I pulled the confession out of the picture –”

“You can’t do that.”

“His interrogators got indicted two years ago for drugging people who didn’t confess and asking them again under the influence. Yes I can,” Midoriya says. You feel like you’re going to be sick. So much for pacing. You sit down hard. “Once I took the confession off the table, the situation changed a lot. Our legal system, regardless of what the codes say, starts from the presumption that the accused is guilty. I looked at the evidence again, this time based on the presumption that Shigaraki was innocent.”

It’s quiet for a second. You can’t take the suspense. “And?”

“Shigaraki was definitely present when the murders took place,” Midoriya says, “but it’s likely that the only one he took part in was his biological father’s. And it’s not clear that he would have done anything if he hadn’t been under the influence.”

“He was drinking?” Spinner repeats, bewildered. “He’s a lightweight. He’d start throwing up way before –”

“Not alcohol. GHB. That’s –”

“The date rape drug,” you say. Your voice sounds like it’s coming from miles away. “That was twenty-five years ago. How –”

“The same night the murders occurred, Shigaraki’s adoptive father took him to the emergency department, claiming that he’d been drinking. I pulled the records, which included a blood test that was taken at the time. Negative for alcohol, positive for GHB.” Midoriya sounds a little sickened, too. You squeeze your eyes shut. “So Shigaraki’s dad was with him the night of the murders. Shigaraki’s dad took him to the ER due to intoxication on a substance most people don’t use recreationally, but a lot of people use for — you know. And Shigaraki’s dad provided almost all the evidence against him. The state’s case would have fallen apart without it.”

You don’t even know what to say. You should shut up. Instead: “Tomura never got treatment for his mental health stuff. Every time I thought I’d talked him into it, his dad would talk him right back out again.”

“Because he wanted Shigaraki to be unstable,” Spinner says, and swears. “He fucking framed him.”

“Why?” you ask hopelessly. “What would even be the point –”

“I’ve got theories. But that’s not on me to do,” Midoriya says. “One of my classmates from law school is still a prosecutor, and he’s already arrested Shigaraki’s adoptive father. My concern is with Shigaraki, and what’s going to happen when he’s released.”

“We’ve got him,” Spinner says at once. “We can help him get back on his feet. Whatever he needs. We all have money.”

You don’t have very much money, but you want to help, too. You have to help. You have to see him again. “I can –”

“No, you can’t.” Spinner cuts you off, and does it with more venom than he used on Tomura’s apparent psychopath of an adoptive parent. “I don’t even know why you called. You don’t get to care about this any more. You fucking ran!”

“Hey,” Midoriya cautions. “That’s kind of aggressive –”

“I don’t give a shit. He’s finally started writing letters again, and you know who he asks about in every letter? You,” Spinner spits, and your chest deforms from the weight of your guilt. “What the fuck are we supposed to tell him? Sorry, Shigaraki — your girlfriend dropped off the face of the earth and none of us have heard from her in nineteen years? We thought you were dead. Then Midoriya comes up with your fucking phone number –”

“How did you get my number?”

“Uh –”

Spinner cuts Midoriya off before he can answer. “You should have been here with us, fighting for him. You gave up. Why are you even here? Why don’t you go back to living under a rock and let the people who actually love him –”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you snap. “I didn’t give up. You have no idea what it was like for me, during the trial — everything –”

“Yeah, you had it so hard.” Spinner’s voice is heavy with disdain. “We weren’t having a great time, either. You know what helped? Staying together. You weren’t just his girlfriend. You were our friend, too. You dropped us all like we didn’t matter and ran off when it got hard.”

“Would you shut your mouth? You have no idea how complicated it got –”

“It’s not complicated at all,” Spinner shoots back. “You dropped us and ran away to the countryside to have your perfect little life –”

Your composure breaks, and for once, you don’t try to keep it together. “Fuck you, Spinner! If you would listen to me for two fucking seconds –”

“Mom?” Chihiro’s bedroom door creaks open, and you freeze. “What’s going on?”

The sound of her voice is all it takes to bring you back to earth. To notice how fast your heart is racing, to notice cold sweat dripping down your spine. “I’m just on the phone. I’m sorry it got loud. Go back to bed.”

You stumble through the explanation, but it doesn’t warn Chihiro off. She comes closer. Spinner must have choked on his own spit, because he’s coughing too hard to respond. At first. “Of course you got married and had a kid. How long did it take you to hook up with some loser and forget all about –”

Chihiro reaches over and presses the video call button, then turns the camera towards herself the instant Spinner and Midoriya both accept. “My mom didn’t hook up with anybody,” she says. “Shut up.”

There’s a clatter on the other end of the line as Spinner drops his phone in shock. Midoriya manages to keep his composure a little better. “Hi,” he says. “What’s your name?”

Your daughter introduces herself warily, and shares her age when Midoriya asks. “Why do you want to know?”

“Once — well, we’ve already filed a lawsuit against the government for violating death row inmates’ human rights, and Shigaraki is one of several plaintiffs. And once he’s released, we’re going after them for wrongful imprisonment.” Midoriya’s writing something down. “Part of the lawsuit is proving the negative impact of the government’s treatment of Shigaraki, and this will help. His wrongful imprisonment didn’t just hurt him, it kept you from having a relationship with your dad. He is her dad, right?”

That one’s for you. “Yeah,” you manage. “I didn’t find out I was pregnant until after the sentencing.”

“We’ll need to do paternity testing to confirm, but –”

“They’ll know.” Spinner’s phone is shaking, and you can see the shock on his face. “You look just like him.”

“You look like an asshole,” Chihiro says, and you take your phone back in a hurry, aware that you should be disappointed and sort of proud instead. Chihiro sits down next to you on the couch. “Who are you, anyway?”

“I’m —” Spinner coughs, looks away. His eyes look blurry. “I’m one of your dad’s friends. Spinner. Sorry, I just — you’re kind of a jump-scare. So’s he.”

For somebody with such a striking appearance, Tomura was pretty sneaky. He didn’t scare people on purpose, but he had no problem startling them a bit. You wonder if he’s still like that. How much will have changed since the last time you saw him. “My mom didn’t hook up with anybody,” Chihiro says. “I’ve never even seen her date. She gets sad every winter because it reminds her of him and she definitely still misses him –”

“Chihiro!” You cut her off, but it’s way too late, and Spinner actually looks relieved. You’re — what? Mortified. Sad. Ashamed. Angry. “Stop making that face, Spinner. If you’d let me finish talking, I would have told you –”

“You were still wrong to leave. But I get why you thought you had to,” Spinner cuts you off. “This is good. I’ll tell everybody so they stop putting together a hit squad, and Shigaraki –”

“No,” you say. Spinner, Midoriya, and Chihiro all jump. “Neither of you can tell anyone, especially not Tomura. It has to be me.”

“That’s bullshit. She’s Shigaraki’s kid, too.”

“My name is Chihiro,” your daughter says. “I’m eighteen. I’m not a kid.”

“Okay,” Spinner says after a second. “Yeah. He still has a right to know.”

“And he should hear it from us,” you say. You put your arm around Chihiro’s shoulders. “Not from you. And not right away.”

Spinner argues, but Midoriya breaks in over him. “I agree,” he says. “A prison sentence like his does things to people. I don’t know what he was like with surprises before, but a surprise this big, the instant he’s released — it’s a really bad idea. That kind of psychological shock can hurt somebody. We want his transition back to civilian life to be as smooth and quiet as possible.”

“He’s going to keep asking about you,” Spinner says to you. “You have to say something.”

You think Spinner’s right. What are you supposed to say, though? How can you say anything without saying the two of you have a daughter together? “If he’s going to stay with you at first, send me your address, Spinner. I’ll send a letter for him.”

“If you want it to get here before he does, you’d better mail it tomorrow,” Spinner says. Chihiro stiffens in her seat next to you. “Midoriya, when’s he getting released?”

“Sometime within the next three weeks. Our PR department has a few editorials lined up to hurry things along,” Midoriya says. He grimaces. “Sorry about the article yesterday. We didn’t sign off on that.”

“The Kizuki one?” Spinner looks disgusted. “She’d better quit mouthing off. Toga’s this close to doxxing her.”

“Don’t tell me things like that,” Midoriya says. “We’re working on it, I promise. PR and the legal stuff is my job. Your job — you two, not Chihiro — is to make sure Shigaraki has a soft landing. As soft as it can be, anyway. This is going to be hard on all of you for a little while.”

“No shit,” Spinner mumbles. He yawns. “I’m supposed to do a book signing tomorrow –”

“I have work. And Chihiro has school.”

“Get some sleep,” Midoriya advises. “And you two — work it out. Please. You trying to kill each other won’t help Shigaraki at all.”

He says goodnight and hangs up, but Spinner stays on the call a little longer. “Hey. Uh, Chihiro — can I talk to your mom for a second? Alone?”

“Are you going to be an asshole?” Chihiro asks around a yawn of her own. Spinner shakes his head, and Chihiro looks to you. “If he starts being an asshole again, just hang up.”

You nod and kiss her forehead before she heads back to her room. Once her door shuts, you make eye contact with the camera. “Now what?”

“Look, I shouldn’t have blown up,” Spinner says. “And you shouldn’t have run.”

“I shouldn’t have done a lot of things,” you say. “Why are we still talking? You said you had work in the morning.”

“I do. But this is important.” Spinner looks as serious as you’ve ever seen him. “When you write Shigaraki this letter, don’t promise anything you can’t follow through on. I don’t know how much of what the kid said is true — the kid. You have a kid. That’s insane.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Spinner forges on. “Even if everything she said is true — about you missing him and everything — that doesn’t mean you want to get back together with him. Don’t say something you don’t mean.”

You can do that, you think. You need to figure out what you mean first. You nod. “This shouldn’t be the only time we talk before he gets out. Let’s check in sometime once we’ve both gotten sleep,” you say. Spinner nods, and something occurs to you. “Why’d we both end up on that call? I mean, we were the closest to him, but for something this big –”

“I was there because Shigaraki authorized it,” Spinner says. “You’re here because he named you when they locked him up.”

“Huh?”

“When people get to death row, they have to name the person who will get their personal effects and ashes — afterward.” Spinner looks away. “Shigaraki named you.”

Spinner must give your number out, because over the next week, you find yourself fielding calls and texts from Toga, Twice, Magne, and Dabi. None of them have brought up Chihiro, which means Spinner and Midoriya have kept their mouths shut, but that means that you spend a lot of time being yelled at. You get why they’re mad, but you’re getting tired of people being mad at you. Chihiro being mad at you is more than enough.

She’s not quite as mad as you thought she’d be. It could be a lot worse. She’s still talking to you, still says she loves you when you drop her off at school and when the two of you say goodnight – but the consequences of your lie by omission are lurking in every silence, and when she comes to you with questions, it always turns into a fight, no matter how much detail you include in your answer. They’re small fights, just a few minutes of raised voices and tears. Maybe other parents are used to this with their teenagers, but you and Chihiro never fought like this before. It could be a lot worse, but it’s awful.

You haven’t cried in front of her, but you’ve cried plenty on your own. In the bathroom with the shower running. On walks in the woods where you come back after dark. In the bathroom on your breaks at work when you’ve gotten another angry text or you fought with Chihiro on the way to school. And of all the calls you’re getting, none of them are the one you really want – the call from Midoriya, telling you that Tomura’s release date has been set.

You wrote the letter, like Spinner said. You mailed it the next morning, and Spinner let you know he has it, on one of the multiple daily texts you’ve been exchanging. Your interactions with him are probably the least contentious. Spinner’s trying to get his house set up to host Tomura, and because you lived with Tomura, he has a lot of questions for you.

For some reason, he’s called you today instead of texted you, and he hits you with a question before you’ve even said hello. “What kind of mattress does he like?

“Huh?”

“Soft, medium, or firm. What kind was your bed?” Spinner asks. Wherever he is, there’s a lot of noise in the background. “It would have been one of them.”

“I don’t remember. I think we bought it used.” Neither of you had very much money. “We were sleeping in a twin bed for the whole first year we had the apartment.”

“Yeah. Something was wrong with you guys,” Spinner says. You roll your eyes. “So the mattress – was it really squishy? Or really hard?”

“Neither. I think it was just a normal mattress.” The noise in the background is even worse. “Where are you?”

“I’m at IKEA. Midoriya said we might get news on a release date soon, and I’m not making Shigaraki sleep on my couch,” Spinner says. He’s at IKEA. You’re too bemused at that to really respond. “I don’t have any clothes for him, either. Do you remember what size he was?”

Yes, but – “He could be different.”

“He’s not,” Spinner says, and your stomach lurches. “Skinnier, maybe. What size?”

Spinner’s seen him. He must have. As much as your instincts are screaming at you to ask, you hold it together. “You don’t need to buy him new stuff,” you say. “I still have his things.”

“You – what? Really?” Spinner sounds shocked. “That’s – it’s been nineteen years. You kept all of it?”

“Of course,” you say. You don’t know what else to say.

The trial is a blur, but what happened after it wasn’t, as much as you wish it was. You couldn’t afford your apartment without Tomura, and because you couldn’t tell anyone why you were leaving, you had to pack up alone. You were exhausted. You weren’t sleeping and you were constantly throwing up, and when it came time to deal with Tomura’s things, you got as far as taking his coat off its hook by the door before you burst into tears. You sat on the floor with your face buried in it until it stopped smelling like him.

Getting rid of his things was never an option, not really. Even if you’ve never unpacked them, even if you haven’t looked at them since you closed the boxes, it’s meant something that they’re there. You’ve been waiting for Chihiro to ask about them. Dreading it. But maybe you can get around that. “I’ve got his clothes. And his old games. I can send them.”

“I’ll take the clothes, but you should keep the games,” Spinner says. You blink. “In case the kid wants them.”

Oh. “Chihiro doesn’t really game.”

There’s an awkward silence. “When you tell Shigaraki about her, don’t tell him that.”

You would have gotten Chihiro games if she’d ever seemed interested, but you aren’t much of a gamer, and you haven’t seen her play much except for Animal Crossing, Stardew Valley, and really old Pokémon games. Of all the things you’ve worried about when it comes to telling Tomura about his daughter, the fact that she’s not a gamer didn’t factor in, and you find yourself cackling semi-hysterically into the phone. “It’s not funny,” Spinner says, and you laugh harder. “He’s already going to have a hard time with it. What if –”

He's cut off with a series of staccato beeps. You have another call coming in, and when you check the caller ID, your stomach clenches tight. “Midoriya’s calling,” you say. “I have to –”

“Yeah. Go,” Spinner says at once. “He’s probably going to conference me in, so talk to you soon –”

You end the call and accept Midoriya’s, the questions spilling out in an anxious flood before he can even say hello. “Did you find out anything? I know you’re busy and I haven’t wanted to bother you, but – he’s been there for nineteen years and he should never have been there at all. Why is it taking so long to get him out?”

Usually Midoriya would have interrupted by now, but he’s quiet. All you can hear on his end of the line is ragged breathing, and your anxiety goes from uncomfortable to painful in a split second. “Say something,” you plead. “Is he –”

“It’s me.”

You don’t have to ask who it is. You’ve never forgotten the sound of his voice, even if it’s rougher and raspier than you ever heard it, and your own comes out in a strained, airless gasp. “Tomura,” you say. “Are you – out?”

“Yeah.” He sounds so tired. There’s a strange rattle in his breathing. “Midoriya wants his phone back. I can’t talk long. But I needed to hear your voice.”

“I’m – I’m glad you called,” you manage. It feels like the wrong thing to say, but you can’t imagine what the right thing is. You feel like you’ve been shoved off a building – the sick, swooping feeling in your stomach, the inability to orient yourself, the confusion and fear. “Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

Tomura starts to answer, but he starts coughing instead, and Midoriya grabs the phone. “I would have warned you if we’d had any warning, but – it was just supposed to be a pre-release conference. If the judge hadn’t insisted on holding it at the prison – it’s only been a week –”

“Breathe,” you say automatically, like you’re talking to Chihiro instead of to a grown man. “Tomura’s out. That’s good, right?”

“The judge ordered his immediate release, so he can go to the hospital. That’s how much his condition has deteriorated!” Midoriya sounds like he’s vibrating with rage. “I know you want to talk to him, but I need my phone so I can call Kacchan and tell him that if he doesn’t indict Warden Torino and everyone who’s worked under him in the last twenty years –”

“Why is he going to the hospital?” you interrupt. Your voice is shaking. “Midoriya, tell me.”

Midoriya’s not listening to you. “This is why prisoners don’t take legal action even when they’ve been wrongfully imprisoned! They know they’ll be retaliated against with impunity. How are we supposed to effect meaningful change if everyone’s too scared to ask for help?”

“Midoriya!” Your voice cracks. “What happened to Tomura?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Midoriya says. “Dehydration, malnutrition – stop that, you’re supposed to be resting –”

“Give me the phone and I won’t have to fight you over it.” Tomura’s barely audible over the coughing, but when he speaks again, it’s clear he’s got the phone back. “I need to tell you something. I promised myself I would.”

“Okay,” you say. Your heart is pounding. It’s hard to breathe. “Tell me.”

“It was real,” Tomura says. His voice goes quieter, raspier. “It’s still real. I love you.”

He starts coughing again, harder than before, and before you can say a word in response, Midoriya has the phone again. “Can you update Spinner and the others? I won’t be able to make those calls. I have to deal with this – and find a way to protect my other clients –”

“I’ll do it, but you have to update me,” you say. “Even if it’s just a text. I have to know what’s going on.”

“Fine. I’ll work on getting Shigaraki a phone,” Midoriya says. “He can call you once the oxygen mask comes off. Until then I’ll do what I can.”

The oxygen mask. Whatever’s wrong with Tomura, it’s so bad that he’s in the hospital or on his way there. You have so many questions that you don’t have a prayer of getting any of them out. “Okay,” you say, trying to buy yourself time to think, and Midoriya hangs up on you.

You slump back against the wall, your head spinning. There’s cold sweat dripping down your spine, and when you lower the phone from your ear, your hands are shaking so badly that you nearly drop it. Tomura’s out of prison, but he’s in bad shape. Midoriya hung up on you. Tomura called you so he could hear your voice, so he could tell you he loves you, and you don’t know when you’ll be able to talk to him again. And you didn’t have a chance to say it – or anything – back.

Something happened to you when you heard Tomura’s voice, the same thing that happened to you when you found out he’d been exonerated, except this time, you don’t have Chihiro’s presence to force you to ground yourself. It’s like you’re twenty-two again. The world’s turned upside down, everything you thought you knew shaken up and shifted beneath your feet. You don’t know what happens next.

Yes, you do. Call Spinner. Call the others. Tell Chihiro, because you promised you’d tell her as soon as you knew anything, and then finish the rest of your day at work. You can do this. You’ll do it the same way you’ve always done it – one step at a time.

You text Chihiro first. She should be the first one to know that her dad’s out of prison. Then you call Spinner – Spinner, who’s definitely still at IKEA, based on the noise in the background when he picks up. “What’s going on? Midoriya never called me. He’s supposed to let us both know when something happens.”

“It wasn’t Midoriya. It was Tomura,” you say, and Spinner goes dead silent. You take a deep breath, let it go, and on the other end of the line Spinner does the same. Not that it helps much. Everything has changed, and it threatens to overwhelm you all at once – but you’ll handle it one step at a time, until everyone’s looking away and you can fall apart in peace. “He’s out.”

<- Chapter 2

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