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#i've been so exhausted and today was not the best and i just want to cry tbh ugh life
annwrites · 2 days
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you're my girl and i'm your man
— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader
— type: ficlet
— summary: you & billy go sight-seeing after you make up. he then teaches you how to drive his car a bit. afterward, you go back to the motel & have your first time (which doesn't go exactly as planned initially).
— tags: billy groveling a bit. billy being sweet on you again. billy letting someone else touch his car. billy being the first one to touch you.
— tw: eating, drinking, sex
— word count: 5,586
— a/n: ok, so, i know i put in the tire blowout post that they were right near the tx border & after '10 hrs of driving' they'd gotten into tx, which is like...did the boy get lost or what lol. but, we're going to ignore that (even if they'd eventually jumped on route 66, it still wouldn't have taken them that long) so they can have a lil daytrip in amarillo.
the 'first time' scene didn't have some big *mutual orgasm* moment bc i've had it planned longer than i did the rest of this chapter even. i wasn't abandoning the oral sex scene idea just to make things ~perfect~ like any other fic would've prob done. sex isn't always like that. it's messy, it's funny, it can be embarrassing. it's rarely like a movie. and that's ok, so long as it's with the person you love.
big texan | cadillac ranch
find my other posts concerning billy here
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It'd not taken long, but you'd eventually cried yourself to sleep against Billy's chest. He'd held you all the while, whispering sweet nothings to you, rocking you, giving you soft kisses, promising over and over: never again.
He'd carried you to bed, pulling your body against his, and he'd closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat, trying to focus on anything but all the shit he'd forced you to put up with today. He'd nearly lost you.
He had nearly lost you.
You'd been so close to walking out that door. Had made a plan of escape. He'd forced your hand.
He feels exhausted himself, but is now afraid to close his eyes. What if you did it? What you said you'd intended to: leave once he's fallen asleep.
He decides that there's nothing more he can do to stop you if that's what you choose. If you want to leave, he'll let you go. He can't keep you prisoner. All he wants is what's best for you. Whatever will bring you happiness and peace. That's what love is. Putting someone else's wants—needs—before your own.
Finally, he drifts off to sleep, hoping to return to his dream that'd been cut painfully short that morning. When everything was still perfect, just as it should've been.
Should've remained.
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When you wake, it's nearly noon and you're in bed alone.
You sit up slowly, still somehow a bit tired, despite having slept so long and you rub your eyes, yawning.
"Morning, baby." You hear a deep familiar voice call a few feet away.
You turn and see Billy emerging from the bathroom, a gentle smile on his face. He comes over, sitting beside you on the bed. "You sleep okay?"
You nod lightly, yawning yet again. Crying usually did take it out of you.
You go to get up to begin getting your things together, until he takes your hand in his.
"You can go back to sleep if you want. I went ahead and paid up for another day."
"You did?"
He nods.
You look down to his large hand which rests overtop of yours. Your brows furrow. "What...what did you mean by it?" You can't just let it sit. You can't sit in unsurety.
He reaches up, tucking some hair behind your left ear. "What, baby?"
"'You're mine'."
"What do you think I meant?"
You shrug, not looking up.
He sighs. "That you're my girl and I'm your man. We're going together, going steady, dating, whatever the fuck you want to call it."
He says it quietly, no aggression, no irritation, just...calling it what it is.
Your eyes finally meet his then. "I assume you expect me to be faithful. Will you give me the same respect?"
He leans down, gently pressing his lips to yours. "Honey, I don't want anybody else."
You sigh. "You've been with more girls than I probably want to know about. And looked at—flirted with—numerous since we've been on the road-"
He chuckles. "I told you before, sweetheart, I did it to get under your skin. To be a dick." He smirks. "It's one of my specialties, I'd say."
You don't laugh or smile at the joke.
He understands. He knows it's going to take a lot of work and groveling and sucking up to get back to where you'd been the night before last.
"Do you want to lie back down, get some more rest?"
You glance up to him. "Will you lie down with me?"
"Of course."
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Billy leaves his briefs on as he pulls you to his chest, your head resting atop it, your hand over one of his pectorals. He tangles the fingers of his right hand in your hair, gently rubbing your head, while the other rests overtop of your hand on his chest.
You lie there for a moment, listening to the steady strong beat of his heart. "What time is it?"
"Time for you to get a watch," he replies immediately, his lip twitching. Maybe now wasn't the time for sarcasm, but he wanted to lighten the mood even a little.
You roll your eyes, even if it makes you feel the least bit better to be back to bantering.
"I have one, remember?"
"Mm," he hums his reply.
"Did...did it mean something to you? What we did the night before last?"
He presses a kiss to the top of your head. How the hell could he have let you go a whole day thinking otherwise? He had known when you came back out of that gas station that you'd been crying. Had wanted to wrap his car around a tree the worse his treatment toward you became. It killed him to do it, but he'd expected you to fight back like you always had. Instead, you'd just...given up.
"You have no idea what it meant to me, sweetheart. A lot. Before...whatever shit I did with a girl was just sex. Not intimacy. Things are different with you."
He turns on his side then and you do as well, looking at each other.
You reach forward, taking his left hand in yours. "When did you realize how you felt?"
You look up to him with innocent eyes.
He looks down to your small hand in his and he brushes his thumb along your knuckles. "I'm not really sure. I mean, I've felt something for awhile. But I told myself it was just an attraction. A crush. Nothing more. And then yesterday morning, I had this dream..." He trails off for a moment and you scoot a bit closer to him.
"What was the dream about?"
His eyes meet yours again. "We'd finally reached Cali and...we were making love in my car. You kept saying my name. I think I just heard you trying to wake me up. But I thought you were about to say it—those three words. I was practically begging you to. And then I woke up and I knew I was down bad. I didn't know what the fuck to do with that: being in love. So I did the only thing I knew how to and punished you for it. For making me fall for you. Even if that had never been your intention, it happened anyway. It was always going to, I think."
You gently press your palm against his chest, curling your fingers against the warm, tanned skin.
He continues. "Maybe I just woke up pissed off from it because I also thought that would be the only way for me to hear it: in my dreams. That you could never feel that way for me. That no one could."
You look up at him to find that he's already looking at you.
Your heart begins to beat just slightly faster. Then, "I love you, too."
His brows furrow and his eyes begin to grow a bit red.
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a firm embrace. He presses his lips to your hair. "Thank you," he mutters.
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The two of you fall asleep for a couple more hours and when he wakes, you're sitting up, back against the headboard as you flip idly through the TV channels.
He slides his hand up your leg, between your legs and you look down at him.
"You hungry?" He asks, lying his head on your thigh. "I know I made keeping food down a bit...difficult yesterday." He thinks of you retching on the side of the interstate. How he'd nearly done the right thing by reaching out to you, but had refrained. Stupid.
He sits up then and you watch him.
You mute the TV, growing serious. "If you ever treat me like that again-"
"I won't-"
"Let me finish."
He stays quiet.
"If you ever treat me like again, it will be the last. I mean it this time. There will be no more forgiveness. No more second, third, and fourth chances. I will walk away. For good. I've probably already given you more chances than I should've."
He nods, knowing you indeed have. "I know." His eyes look into your own, hopeful. "So does that mean you do: forgive me?"
You unmute the TV. "I think it's going to take time."
He nods. "I understand." Then after a beat of silence, "Is there anything I can do?"
You toy with the remote in your hands. "I don't mind the sarcasm and joking around. But I need this, too."
He rests his head on your breasts, wrapping an arm around your waist. "I know. I just need you to be patient with me."
You roll your eyes toward the ceiling. "I've been nothing but, Billy."
He smirks. "I never promised that I'd make it easy on you."
Your stomach growls then and he chuckles, standing. He extends a hand toward you. "C'mon, I'll buy you lunch."
You have half-a-mind to be petty and ask about his comment of him 'no longer being your meal-ticket', but are so sick of fighting that you just slide your hand into his.
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Billy had stopped at an interesting restaurant along Route 66, called 'The Big Texan', which was quite the attraction. The place was packed, with taxidermy lining the walls, and the interior was modeled after an old western saloon. You'd held tightly to his hand as the hostess led you to your table.
Billy had ordered himself a lager that they kept on-tap, while you'd ordered a glass of ice water, downing the thing almost instantly. The waitress had returned soon after to give you a refill and to take your orders. He'd ordered a ribeye while you'd gone with a fried sandwich. You'd considered a quesadilla, but didn't want anymore Mexican-style food. Not after yesterday.
You glance up to him once you're halfway through your sandwich. "Do...should I pay for this?" You ask, gesturing to your lunch.
He should've never said that to you. Honestly, after he had, he'd sat in the car pissed at himself for doing so. He liked taking care of you— knowing he was the first man to really do so. If he'd let you get yourself your own motel room... He doesn't want to think of everything he'd nearly lost, all due to his own selfishness...cowardice.
He brushes his leg against yours under the table. "No, baby, let me get the check. Let's just...go back to the way things were before yesterday. I know we can't just forget about it, but I want you to ignore all the shit I said. I didn't mean any of it. Okay?"
You nod, resting one of your feet over his boot. "Okay."
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When you stand, ready to go up front, you see Billy turn back to the table and grab your water—for a quick drink, you assume—until you feel his hand slip under your shirt and an ice cube slides down your back.
"Oh! You son of a-" You shut your mouth as it slips onto the floor and a few curious eyes turn your way.
He shrugs, expression bored. "Thought you needed to cool off a little," he states, heading up front.
You grab two big cubes, praying they don't melt in your hands before you make it outside.
Once you have, you slip your hands down both the front and back of his jeans. His satisfied smirk is cut short when he hollers, wildly kicking his legs, trying to shake them out to no avail. "Oh, you're going to fuckin' pay for that," he says, picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder, smacking your ass.
Your head bobs, forehead nearly hitting his broad back. "Let me down!"
He spanks you again. "I don't think so. You've been a naughty girl and you're getting punished."
"You started it!"
"And now I'm finishing it," he says as his left hand comes up and yanks against your panties, tugging them down your legs. Oh God, you should've never worn a dress. But the heat here was nearly unbearable.
Your eyes go wide and you panic, worrying someone might see.
He slips them into his pocket, the skirt of your dress fluttering with each step he takes and you know your privates are on full-display.
He walks around to the side of the car, grabbing his leather jacket, and comes back around to the front, tossing it on the hood of the car. He finally sits you down—gently—on top of it, and he plants his palms on either side of you, leaning in for a kiss, one of his hands snaking between your spread legs.
You let him distract himself as you gently unbuckle his belt, and then pull it off of him in one swift motion, his pants falling.
You giggle as you watch him grab for them, yanking them back up.
He then looks at you with a raised brow, his palm extended to you. "C'mon, give it. You can take my clothes off later."
You go to hand it to him, then yank it back toward you, smiling.
His lip twitches. "Keep it up and I'll be putting you over my knee with it."
You give it to him then and watch as he slips it back through his belt loops again.
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After pulling away from the restaurant, Billy looks at you, foot on the brake. "You want to go see some cars?"
You roll your head in his direction. "Do I, or do you?"
He puts on a pair of shades. "I think you'll like it," he says, accelerating, heading back toward the highway.
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"What a fuckin' waste," Billy says, standing beside you.
You look up to him. "You were the one who wanted to come here."
"Who the hell sticks a goddamn Cadillac in the sand like that? You have any idea how much these things were once worth?"
You shrug, not particularly interested in that aspect of them. "I think it's neat."
He looks down to you. "Women. You would."
You walk around one of them, admiring other people's artwork. "Bite me."
"That an offer, honey?"
You walk over to another one, looking over the various shapes and swirls sprayed onto it. Then to the one next to it, glancing inside the cabin, but not much is to be found there. You wonder why someone would stick ten cars in the ground like this. Also wonder whether they harvested them for parts first. It would be a lot of wasted money, if not.
When you look up, Billy is three cars down, a black spray-paint can in one hand, while he holds his t-shirt over his mouth and nose with the other.
You walk over to him and watch as he finishes up his personal addition to one of the vehicle's doors: Billy ♡'s Y/N
He lowers his shirt, looking at you. "Think I could make it as an artist?"
You wrap your arms around his middle, lying your head against his chest, smiling softly. "Definitely not."
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Once the two of you are back in the car, Billy slides his hand up your thigh, smirking at the feel of your heat, knowing your panties are still shoved in his pocket. "Where to now?"
You shrug. "We could go back to the motel?" In all honesty, you just wanted to be somewhere with AC again. The car has it, but he always wants the windows down, for whatever annoying reason.
He shakes his head. "I don't want us cooped up in there all damn day." He studies you for a moment. "You want me to finally teach you how to drive manual?"
You look to him with wide eyes. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"You've got to learn some time."
"Maybe in an automatic."
He raises a brow. "Plan on ditching me for some city-slicker?"
"You're from California, Billy."
"That's neither here nor there," he states, turning the car over.
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Once Billy's found an empty parking lot to start your training in, he gets out.
He walks around to your side, opening the door, leaning down to you and motioning with his hand for you to get out.
You stare up at him. "What if...what if I 'burn up the clutch' like you said? Or I nick the paint or-"
He brushes his knuckles over your cheek. "You won't hurt it, baby. I'll be right next to you the whole time."
You shift in your seat, really not wanting to do this. "Which do you love more? Me, or your car?"
"Don't push your luck. C'mon," he says, grabbing your hand, pulling you out.
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Once you're in the driver's seat—Billy having already adjusted the seat so you could reach the pedals—and most certainly buckled in, you look nervously to Billy.
"This feels so fuckin' weird, being in the passenger seat in my own car," he mumbles, also buckling himself in. God forbid you panicked and laid on the throttle and smoked an electric pole.
He prays to God that doesn't happen.
He puts his left arm behind you. "Alright, press down on the clutch."
You glance down to the floor, then back up to him with a nervous smile.
"The one all the way to the left, honey."
You shove your foot down on the corresponding pedal.
"Now the middle one—that's the brake."
You let up on the clutch.
"No, keep your left foot on the clutch and your right one goes on the brake."
"Ok, sorry," you say, doing as he's instructed.
"Now, turn the key in the ignition while keeping your feet where they are."
With a slightly shaking hand, you do and the car roars to life.
He points to the shifter. "This car is a standard-h. There's only four gears. The 'r' stands for reverse."
You cock your head to the side. "I know that."
"Don't get smart with me right now." He continues. "Now, I want you to put it in first."
You do.
"Take your foot off the break slowly."
The car rolls forward only a few inches, then stops.
"Now, do the same with the clutch, also slowly. The car is going to start to roll. When it does, give it just a little bit of gas and please pay attention to where the hell you're pointing the front-end. Just...don't hit anything, alright?"
You slowly let up on the clutch, wheels rolling forward, and you grip the wheel tightly, sweat rolling down the back of your neck from nerves. You give the gas pedal a gentle tap and begin to drive slowly around the parking lot.
Billy glances to the speedometer. "Now, keep doing exactly as you are, but I want you to shift into second gear when you're ready. I want you staying around fifteen miles per hour for right now. You're going to take your foot off the gas and instead press down on the clutch again when you shift."
You press down on the clutch again, pulling the shifter back toward you.
"Good, now give it gas again and just drive around a bit like that. Just get a feel for it."
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After less than an hour, you feel far more comfortable behind the wheel than when you'd started.
You were no pro—not like him—but you knew more now than you had.
"Think I'm readying to hit the interstate yet?" You ask, smiling to yourself, shifting.
He smirks. "That's likely," he replies sarcastically. "Alright, go ahead and park it."
You hit the brake a little too hard, causing the both of you to lurch forward.
Billy grabs the dash. "Jesus. Easy, killer. I said park it, not give me whiplash."
You blush, putting the car into first and shutting it off. "At least it was the brake I laid on and not the gas."
"No shit," he says chuckling, unbuckling himself.
He leans over the middle of the car then, pressing his lips to yours, his left hand gripping your headrest, his right slipping under your dress, feeling you up.
You moan against his lips and his tongue slips into your mouth, exploring.
He cups your breast, kneading it in his palm, erection pressing against his jeans...and he slams his head against the roof of the car.
He pulls away, cupping the back of his scalp. "Fuck's sake. I'm not supposed to be the one on top, anyway. Alright, time to switch seats, doll."
He gets out, walking around to the driver's side, opening the door, and you step out and he climbs back in, then grabs your hand, pulling you inside. It takes a bit of struggling and a few curse-words on both your ends, but eventually he gets you to straddle him. He then reclines the seat back and begins pushing your dress up.
Your hands come down to rest overtop of his. "I...I'm not ready to-"
He reaches up, cupping your cheek. "I know. There's still other things we can do if you want to keep...exploring, though," he says with a smirk, growing harder at the thought.
Your eyes flit between both of his, considering, thinking, then you speak. "Never again."
"Never again," he agrees easily, pushing your dress up and off your body, lying it in the passenger seat.
He grips your hips, pupils dilating, licking his lips as he takes in your naked form.
"Now, how the fuck am I supposed to behave myself when I know what you look like under your clothes now?" He looks into your eyes. "You realize that when we're alone in a room together, I'm not letting you wear clothes ever again?"
You tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, blushing, smiling slightly.
His eyes trail over your breasts, down your stomach, to between your legs. "You're so fucking beautiful," he says lowly.
Heat pools between your legs.
You reach down then and begin unbuttoning his shirt.
"I can't believe you're finally mine."
You look at him.
He reaches up, cupping your cheek with his right hand. "Can you tell me that, angel?"
You bring your hand up to rest over the back of his. You turn your head to gently kiss his palm. "I'm yours."
He maneuvers his shirt off of himself, tossing it over with your dress.
"What now?" You ask nervously.
As much as he wants to bury himself inside of you, he knows he has to wait. He just hopes not long. Not because he was necessarily eager to 'just get laid', but because he wanted to make you his in every way he knew how.
He folds his hands behind his head, staring up at you. "Maybe I just watch you." He shrugs, lifting his hips to get more comfortable, then settling back down against the seat. "I think just this once I'd be alright with being a spectator."
You blink down at him. "You really want to do this here...?"
He glances around the empty lot, then back to you. "Mhm."
You reach down tentatively between your legs, keeping your eyes on his own.
You begin to rub your clit, whimpering lightly at the pleasant feel. You lean back some and jolt when the horn honks.
You look at him, now embarrassed.
He smirks. "Keep going, baby."
You start up again, closing your eyes, your hand circling between your legs, your other gripping his shoulder tightly.
You sigh, running your fingers between your soaked folds, then circling your clit again with your own self-made lubricant.
Billy suddenly inclines the seat again, wrapping his arms around you, taking one of your breasts in his mouth, his hands sliding down to your ass, squeezing.
Your hips jerk, and you settle again, wrapping one arm around his neck, craning your neck down, pressing your lips to his.
He moves his lips to your neck, your clavicle, your breasts, then back up again, sucking on the sensitive skin until you have a hicky.
You sigh his name and he brushes some hair away from your face. "That's it, darlin'. Just like that."
You press your lips to his, hips jerking yet again and you gasp against his lips.
"Shh, I know. You're close, aren't you, sweetheart?"
You nod, crushing your lips back to his, a low mewling sound coming from the back of your throat.
Your fingers begin to circle faster and faster, slipping between your legs, then back to your clit, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps, you even accidentally bite Billy's lower lip at one point, but he just moans at the feeling.
"Fuck, do that again."
You do, gently biting down, then running your tongue over the now-sensitive spot, kissing him again and again.
And then, finally, you arch your back, crying out in euphoria, that bundle between your legs jerking under your fingers, pulsating.
You press your forehead to his shoulder, softly crying his name.
He slides his hands up your back, your skin slick with sweat, before cupping your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him, your expression now serene, if not a bit sleepy.
"You're lucky I didn't finish in my fucking jeans just now."
You laugh.
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When you get back to the room, Billy glances to you with a smirk as he unlocks the door.
"You do know driving my car isn't the only thing I'm going to be teaching you, right?"
"You're such a perv."
He balks, dramatically placing his hand over his heart as he pushes the door open, arm holding it for you. "I was talking about teaching you to surf. Now whose mind is in the gutter?"
You bite your lip as you step past him, now embarrassed.
And then he slaps your ass as he shuts the door behind himself. "Seems I'm starting to finally rub off on you, huh?"
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You're very thorough as you shower, well and truly taking your time scrubbing every inch of yourself, shaving your legs and armpits, and giving yourself only a small trim downstairs. Once clean, you stand before the mirror, blow-drying your hair, then teasing it just as you had the other day. He'd liked when you did that.
You ignore your pounding heart and sweaty palms to the best of your ability. Maybe it's too soon. Maybe you should continue to wait. Maybe it'll be a mistake.
Or maybe, like Billy had said a few nights ago, that 'mistake' could turn out to be one of the best things you've ever done.
When you exit the bathroom, it's in nothing more than a towel and Billy glances from the TV to you with a smirk, the arm down at his side holding the remote, other arm across his forehead. "Guess I found something more interesting to watch," he says, turning it off.
You shift from one foot to the other. "Do... You said you have condoms, right?"
He stares at you for just a moment longer, then sits up suddenly. "What?"
You grip the towel more tightly. "I think I'm ready."
"In the car you said-"
"I know," you say quietly. "I...I kind of wanted to the other night. And in the car. I don't know what I'm waiting for, really. I always said I wanted to fall in love first and now I have, so..."
You trail off, glancing down to the carpet, then back up to him, finding him now seated on the edge of the bed.
He stands, coming over to you.
You look up at him and soften when he cups your cheek. "Are you sure about this?"
You nod.
He studies you for a moment longer, and then he steps over to his bag, unzipping a side pocket, removing a small, square, silver wrapper.
Hands trembling slightly, you drop your towel to the floor, thankful the curtains are already shut, only a small fraction of light streamlines across the bed which you lie down on, waiting for him.
You watch as he undresses and you can't help but think he, too, looks just a bit nervous. You wonder if he's ever been that before with a girl.
You don't ask.
He tears the wrapper open with his teeth, then rolls the condom over his already-hard length and walks over to you, crawling on top of you.
You spread your legs, letting him between them. You reach up, cupping his cheek and his gaze softens.
You feel his erection brush against your inner thigh.
"I know you said you were sure-"
"I am," you say, lifting your head, pressing your lips to his.
He then reaches between your thighs, ensuring you're already wet. And his fingers come away soaked.
You keep your arms wrapped around his neck as he rubs the tip of himself against you, then slowly begins to ease inside.
It pinches for a moment, rather painfully, and you bite your lip at the feeling, but once he's past that threshold and buried in your sweet wetness, it feels...wonderful.
When you look up at him, it hits you all at once. How just over a week ago you'd been sitting in class absolutely hating his existence, his very presence, and now here you were, completely in love with him. His heart had belonged to you all along.
You wonder if he would've run away with anyone else—would've made such a quick split-second decision to leave it all behind, with only you at his side. Would've protected, and provided for, and looked after, and chased down another like had you.
You were it for him, and it's in that moment of you looking up at him, into his eyes—tears shimmering in them—your bodies joined together as one, that you know he is for you, too.
"You're mine," he whispers, voice husky, quiet.
He begins to gently rock his hips against your own.
"Yes," you sigh, lifting a leg onto his strong back.
"I'll never love anyone else the way I love you, not after everything we've been through. Only we understand each other. No one else ever could—will. You're mine. Forever."
You nod, a tear slipping down the side of your face. "Forever."
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When Billy finishes, he's unsure that he's ever felt so happy in his entire life. The only thing that could compare was the feeling of the ocean under his feet.
Finding you was finding the missing part of him—a piece of a puzzle he hadn't even been aware he was trying to solve, falling into place, squarely into his heart. Slowly, you were mending him back into one completeness of a man.
He lays on his side, looking down at you, smiling. "So, did you, uh..." He trails off, nodding lightly.
You reach up, brushing a curl away, smiling slightly, but he can tell something isn't right.
"Not...really."
His brows furrow.
"No?"
You shake your head lightly. It wasn't his fault. Sometimes things just took a bit more effort for a girl, right? "No."
He lays on his back, wondering what the hell he'd done wrong.
Admittedly, he'd finished a bit more quickly than what was typical for him.
"Alright, just give me a minute," he says, closing his eyes, trying to concentrate.
You lie beside him, looking over at his naked body. "It's okay. I can just-"
His eyes open. "No, I want to be the one to do it."
You grow quiet.
He then sits up. "Fuck this, we'll do it another way, then."
He kneels at the end of the bed, gripping your hips, pulling you toward him.
You sit back on your forearms, looking down at him. "Billy, what're you-"
You lay back down again. "Oh God," you said breathily as his hot mouth lowers onto your sex.
He eases your legs over his shoulders, flicking his tongue against your clit, then spearing it, fucking you with it.
You grip the sheets beneath you, arching your back at the amazing feeling.
He eases two fingers inside you, arching them upward just like the other night—since you'd seemed to enjoy that so much—and he continues to suck against your clit, bothering to even trace the alphabet along it.
You close your eyes, brows furrowed, skin hot, nipples hard as your back arches atop the soft mattress.
He gently grips one of your hips with his free hand, then reaches up, twining his fingers with your own.
"Ah, I love you," you say in a whisper, squeezing his hand.
He plants a few kisses to your pussy in reply. "I love you, too, baby." He then goes back to teasing that sensitive nerve bundle with his experienced tongue.
Your thighs tighten around his head and he knows you're close.
He traces his name with his tongue, and just as he's halfway through 'Hargrove' do your eyes pop open, your back arching, your hand squeezing his fingers so hard he's sure you might just break one as you scream his name as you climax. He really fucking hopes the people staying next to you heard every second of it.
As you come back down, head light and swimming, he stands, quickly throwing away the ruined condom, putting on a fresh one.
Your body is still twitching and sensitive when he looks down at you with a smirk. "So, did you cum that time?"
"Y-yes."
He positions himself between your still-spread legs. "Good, because I'm ready again."
Before you can even react and ask for a few seconds to catch your bearings, he sheathes himself.
"You're going to fucking cum this time."
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anirudhpisharody · 29 days
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#alright these tags are super embarrassing but i needed to rant publicly so uh. you can read this but please don't perceive me too much#it is so fucking exhausting having nobody to share my life with#i have literally zero friends at this point bc ever since my grandpa died i've pretty much stopped trying to keep in touch with my hometown#friends and i cut off my 'friend' group that were racist assholes who treated me like a doormat back in october and haven't really made any#close friends at college since. and i just fucking hate that this is the same way i've felt for so many fucking years like you'd think it#would be bearable at this point and i'd be used to being alone and for a while i honestly was but it just hit me tonight how fucking lonely#i am and how tomorrow i have to keep on just doing the shit i have to do in life without anyone to talk to and share it with#other than my mom who's been pissing me off lately so i've been pushing her away too!#it's so tiring to have to go out and do things and have responsibilities everyday and not being able to share that with anyone idk it makes#it feel almost like i'm carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders which is SO dramatic i know#like today i wanted to talk about the stupid false alarm gas leak thing with my sort of friends in this club i'm in but i didn't get to talk#to anyone at the meeting bc everyone was just talking amongst themselves in their little groups of best friends and it just reminded me that#i don't have that and i've never fucking had that i've only ever pretended i had that#it's like all these years i've been pretending to be a person that has friends and knows how to live life normally but i never have#more than anything i just miss my friends from home bc they're the closest i've ever felt to having friends that are like family but. i#don't know how to talk to them anymore. i didn't tell any of them when my grandpa died and i think they just assumed that i've moved on so#they've probably moved on and i already know that they have their own lives and friends at their schools that are a lot more full than mine#wanna know the worst part about all of this? i just had therapy and basically told her everything's fine#and i won't meet with her again until 3 weeks from now so literally the only person i can talk to about this right now is my mom#which i am absolutely not gonna do bc she's gonna get so scared and worried for me and i can't have that rn#anyways yeah. this isn't even that big of a deal like i haven't had friends for at least the past 6 months it's not like anything's changed#i just feel extra sad about it right now. i need a distraction stat gonna go watch watch some tv goodnight#shut up hanna
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berry-s0da · 11 months
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chuluoyi · 8 months
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fear
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- gojo satoru x reader
his best friend’s defection is still a hard topic for him to swallow, and it leads into an unexpected argument that spurs you to leave, only to unlock a new fear in him when you get into an unfortunate accident afterwards.
genre/warnings: angst, gojo being mean, one scene with a worried nanami *wink*, injured reader, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end
notes: *sigh* my coping mechanism is still gojo’s past arc, which is why this piece takes place on that timeline. just a little context: reader is in the same class with nanami & haibara and was in the same mission that took haibara's life. this is probably the longest oneshot i've written so far sooo… enjoy! :)
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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A year and a half had passed since Suguru embarked on his path as a curse user. In that one year and a half, Satoru had finished his last year at Jujutsu High, and now was in the halls of his alma mater, speaking to the newly appointed headmaster who was none other than his teacher.
"You're applying to become a teacher?" Yaga asked again with a frown. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Granted, he was his most troublesome pupil. "Why, Satoru?"
"If I said it's because I want to train young sorcerers to be strong, would you believe me?"
That was not a lie. It was actually 50% of his main reasons anyway. The other 50% was to repent what he missed with Suguru when he chose his dark path—his contempt with the current system of this jujutsu world.
"I would," Yaga responded gruffly. To him, Satoru was irritating, but he also knew that he was also extremely capable, and thus everything he did wasn't just out of nowhere. "But you still have to submit your applications. We can't make an exception even if you come from a prestigious clan."
"That's fine with me," he grinned. "Thanks, sensei."
On summer days, he'd get reminded of Suguru and silly things they had done together. Eating shaved ice, cycling together, driving either you, Shoko or Nanami mad. Satoru missed those days, it hadn't been the same ever since. Not knowing if his best friend was alright—if he was still alive at all—was exhausting.
Sometimes, he felt like he was the only one who was affected by his departure, the only one who stayed right where Suguru left him. Shoko didn't seem ruffled, if anything she just went to more bars and pachinko parlors as of late. Nanami was always a recluse, he never disclosed his feelings. You mourned him, but it was clear that most part of you would always be more focused on Haibara's death.
Satoru understood that he couldn't force anyone to feel what he felt, and he had no right to. But sometimes, he just wanted someone to connect with at his level. Someone to get him just like Suguru did.
And so when he got back to his condo that night—just right next to the one he rented for Megumi and Tsumiki, since he had moved out of his dorm—to find his girlfriend there with a big smile and a tray of cupcakes, unaware of everything and anything, he merely scoffed to himself.
"Satoru, you're back," you acknowledged, beaming like the sunshine you were. "I just baked these for the kids. Do you want some?"
Usually he'd smother you, throw some pickup lines here and there and say yes, but today, he just felt drained. "No." And with that, he stalked away to the bathroom, not glancing back at you.
It was wrong. But tonight he just wanted some peace and quiet, and so keeping his silence seemed to be the best choice as he didn't want to start a pointless argument with you. But you weren’t anything but observant, and definitely noticed that something was amiss with him.
"Are you... alright?" You approached him warily after he came out of the bathroom with wet hair. "Where were you today?"
"Just somewhere," he replied curtly. Afterwards he turned on the hairdryer, drowning the whole place with the noise even as you stood behind him with a visible question mark.
But you were still there after he dried his hair. "Is something bothering you?" you asked with a tilt of your head, concerned. By all means, you mean well. You just wanted to know if he could use your help at all.
When you pulled that expression, he couldn't help feeling annoyed, like he wanted you to take a hint, but you just didn't. "If you know, then just shut it."
It was probably the first time since the two of you got together that Satoru actually said something harsh. But you still tried to be reasonable though, bless you.
"Satoru, I don't know what got into your nerves like this, but I think sleeping through it might help. Have a rest."
"Why are you talking as if you know it?" he snapped, finally turning to you with his cold gaze. "You might not know anything, so don't be a know-it-all. Just mind your own business."
Now you were frustrated with his reply. "Once again, I don't know what happened to you. But if you're taking it out on me because I'm the closest you have—"
"Who said that?" Satoru didn't know where he got all this venom from. It was just at the forefront of his mind and he just got the urge to spew it. "You're considering yourself closest to me? Where did you get that big head from?"
You were aghast, and you blinked a few times to get your bearings. "Let me guess, it's about Geto-san, isn't it? Or the higher ups. Either of that must be what causing you to blindly place your anger on me."
"So what if it was? It isn't like you'll understand anyway."
"Satoru," you started, trying to even your breathing. "What happened to Geto-san isn't your fault. I've been telling you this. It can't be helped—"
"Can't be helped?" he jeered. "Do you know why it has come to this?" his tone took a dangerous edge as he stepped closer. He reached for you, grasping your wrist.
"Maybe because I was too blind back then. If it weren't for you—if only I didn't spend that much time on you, maybe he would still be here."
Did he just say that? Did he just imply that he had regretted the two of you getting together?
You felt your lower lip start to tremble and something seemed to obscure and blur your vision, making it hard to see him clearly. "You... don't mean that."
"Really?" the corner of his lips curled into a disparaging smile. "You never know. Before you know it, this can be over already. After all, I could have anyone out there that I want. Maybe someone less nosey than—”
That did it. You wrenched your arm out of his grip violently, as your first tear fell. His smirk vanished too, replaced with a total stillness to cover his sudden panic that was followed by a sudden sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.
"You selfish, self-obsessed jerk," you hissed through watery eyes. He was taken aback, even amidst your anger and possible fear of him, your still managed to throw daggers at him. "Fine. You have it. I'll see myself out."
Satoru never wanted you to leave. Honestly, he would've made you stay. But he wasn't in the right state of mind and it was too late to take back what he said. He didn't want to mess this up even further.
You left the cupcakes, even throwing it away just to spite him. Driven by pain and humiliation, you choked back your sob and didn't spare a glance at him as you shut the door.
Peace and quiet. There he had it, he thought as he clenched his fists, at the cost of everything else.
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Leaving that condo, every step you took felt like needles piercing your shattered heart. You wiped your tears roughly. No, you refused to cry over such asshole. He made it clear, didn't he? Whatever it was that you two shared, it was at the cost of his best friend leaving him. So now the blame was on you.
If you were thinking clearly, you would've understood that his words were likely a result of his own pent-up pain and frustration that he had kept to himself for some while. But you had no patience for that or even pinpoint what you felt right now—anger, disappointment or dread, or perhaps all three. You just felt wrongly accused.
Your feet brought you back to your dorm in the school. Now it wasn't as bustling as it once were. After Satoru and Shoko's graduation, you didn't really get close to anyone. There was Ichiji, but he treated you more like a mentor rather than a classmate.
As you sank into the comforts of your bed, You replayed the events, trying to find where it went wrong—and found nothing. After all, you had already said all that could be said. It wasn't just him who lost Geto, but you, Shoko and Nanami did too, but it was more convenient for Satoru to blame everyone else rather than trying to understand that they too shared this pain.
Nevertheless, you were disappointed. You didn't expect half of what he spouted, and it got you doubting everything you had.
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"You've royally fucked up."
Satoru exhaled, glaring at Shoko through the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, maybe."
The reverse cursed technique user threw him a blank stare, taking in everything from his disheveled hair to his wrinkled trousers. "Gojo, as much as I can’t care less about your sorry ass, I'm saying this not out of concern for you, but rather for Y/N. You are an asshole."
The puff of smoke she blew expanded to create a cloud-like shape. "Yaga-sensei was our teacher. His student is now a mass murderer and wanted dead. Can you even imagine how he feels? And I can't believe I'm saying this—but weren't there three of us?"
A week had gone by and instead of doing the right thing like trying to get into your good graces, Satoru was in Shoko's infirmary in the headquarters instead. He didn't exactly know what he was looking for by going here. Maybe some lingering taste of his happier student days, and Shoko was the only one remaining.
Three of us, huh... she was right. That was precisely why he came here after all.
"You're just sulking because it seems no one cares about your best friend being the best there is. But have you thought about how our juniors also lost Haibara? Right in front of their eyes? Haibara was our friend too."
He was wrong, of course he was. Satoru realized that now. But it felt wrong to ask for your forgiveness now, not to mention the disrupting thought he had—should he let you go for good altogether?
The phone suddenly rang with such fervor that made Shoko utter a swear word. She was on call duty for the rescue team today, and it was supposedly a peaceful day until Satoru decided to barge in to become her company. "Hello? Ichiji? What—speak clearly, I can't hear you."
She switched it to loudspeaker. "...iri-san! Ieiri-san—h-help—please—"
It was noisy, and blaring at the same time, and Ichiji was... Sobbing? Choking? His voice was terribly muffled and—
"L/N-san!" he cried, and Satoru remembered at that moment that you should be in a mission with Ichiji, he remembered you telling him before.
"Hic—s-she fell... hic—she fell! B-blood! She i-is bleeding so much! I-Ieiri-san—hic—s-send help! Please!"
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"Hey, stay awake. Breathe. Just breathe."
Everything hurt. Most notably, your head. You could hardly think straight when all you felt was blinding pain and how your breaths came in short wheezes. 
Your vision was blurry. The numbness had started to set in and chills ran up and down your spine. You couldn't make out who in front of you was. Was it Ichiji, who went with you in this mission? The only thing that glared was blue.
"You can't sleep, you hear me?" the voice was commanding, willing you to do his bidding. It was familiar, but usually his tone of voice was much lighter, happier.
Satoru.
But why was he here? He wasn't in this mission. It was supposed to be a mission for you and Ichiji.
You remembered getting the cursed spirit after manifesting your domain expansion, until in its last ditch attempt, it went after Ichiji. You had no choice—even when your cursed energy had burned out, you still shoved him away at the cost of being flung from the top of a building.
Not again. Not after Haibara. You’d gladly pay the price if it meant you didn't have to see anyone die in front of you again.
"I..." You managed to croak out—breathing hurt, and you felt your hands being grasped tightly.
"Hey, just breathe. Y/N. Look at me.” Through your blurry haze, you focused on that cold blue, and you saw him. Satoru's sharp eyes, pursed lips and frown. He's really here.
Satoru always said that if there was a cursed spirit apocalypse, then Ichiji would be the first to die. You used to scold him for that, but now as you a laid here possibly dying in your own pool of blood, you found it to be true.
Yet at the same time you knew that with him here, Ichiji must be safe already, and it gave you reassurance so great even when you were on the verge of dying. "I... can't..."
"Yes, you can. Just look at me," he firmly rebuked, his voice came out in a hiss. For all the time you had been with him, you had never heard him so forceful. "If you close your eyes now, I won't forgive you. So please, just hang in there."
It was a struggle to take in any air and darkness encroached on your vision as your consciousness began slipping away.
And everything faded to nothingness.
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Satoru honestly thought he had no fears. His worst fear had fully realized after all—Suguru going away into the darkness. What more could he possibly fear?
But when he heard Ichiji's distress call for rescue team, about how you fell from a rooftop of a building and unconscious, he realized that it was a fear he didn't know existed. His mind got disoriented and he teleported to the scene on impulse. He just had to see it for himself. With their petty argument still lacking closure, he felt even worse.
And the sight before him gave him so much fright he never thought was possible.
It was a mistake, he should have brought Shoko along.
You had laid there like a broken doll, your eyes dimmed, and not been able to breathe. He desperately tried to keep you awake, his presence beside you, yet it didn't seem to matter. He watched helplessly as you passed out in his arms.
Satoru felt nothing. The panic that had set in was suddenly gone as your limp body slumped against him, replaced by incessant ringing in his ears and tremor wracking his nervous system. It wasn't long until the rescue team came to retrieve you and even then he still felt numb. He rejected the idea that you might possibly die on him.
That went on until Shoko, who assisted in the emergency treatment, came out of the surgery, sweat on her forehead.
"It's even worse than the aftermath of the guardian deity mission last year," Shoko explained with a grim expression. "Her brain has sustained damage and it affects everything. It may take her quite a while before she can go back to the field."
When she said that, Satoru felt terror washed over him again. You almost died—was all he perceived.
The two of you had no contact for a week just because of his ego. He could still recall that day with vivid clarity, feeling a burning ache in his chest. If someone were to ask him what heartbreak was like, now he certainly would he able the to tell them the two instances in which he experienced them. What he felt now mirrored the same stinging sensation he had felt when Suguru left him.
He visited you when he was allowed to, and you were still unconscious, with many machines connected to your body. It was a sight he still couldn’t bring himself to get used to. He had seen you injured before, but never seen you in your own pool of blood, so this made him feel sick to his stomach.
"Stupid," he whispered, gently rubbing your forehead. His eyes remained fixated on you as you rested, his insides still churning with emotions. "You're not weak, and you're not hopeless." Once upon a time, Satoru might have thought of you as weak, but now he knew better.
"So why you always pick the worst decision?" The more he thought this could've been avoided, the more irked he was. The thought that he could have done something to prevent it intensified the sting of guilt, and he continued to punish himself with it.
And the more he dwelled on the idea that he had hurt you prior to this, the tighter his breath became.
But that was who you were. Self-sacrificing to a fault. And he loved you for that. There was no way of him letting you go now.
It astonished even himself—that he was capable of this love thing. At first it was an attraction, but now that you had been going on for more than a year, it felt like it was no longer a silly infatuation after all.
"Hurry and wake up, will you?" Satoru gently brushed your hair aside, his eyes fixed on you. He didn't know it even as his gut twisted, his frown deepened and his touch quivered, that he was worried sick. "I have a lot to make up for."
And he left you with a tender brush of his lips against your forehead.
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Nanami Kento was the first person you saw when you awoke from coma.
You struggled to regain your senses, still feeling absolutely broken. The dull throb on the back of your head was still there, and as if you had found yourself trapped in a fog, you were only able to move sluggishly.
"You're awake?" his gruff voice greeted, laced with concern. In his hand were a bucket of fresh flowers and fruits basket, which he soon placed at the table next to your bed.
It was unexpected, because ever since the tragedy that costed Haibara's life, the two of you had been drifting apart.
You nodded, and let out a hum in response—all you could manage at the moment.
"Thank God." Nanami sounded relieved as he pinched the bridge between his eyes, and you were moved that he had shown this degree of concern.
Your remaining classmate, who suffered the burden of Haibara's life just like you. He was always quiet or brooding somewhere, hiding his own feelings.
You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes. The fact that he visited you meant that he hadn't decided to cut you out of his life yet.
"Gojo-san is out today, but he'll be back by afternoon," he said, mistranslating your tears as some sort of a want to have your annoying—ex?—boyfriend at your side.
The two of you were still not on talking terms, weren’t you?
You so badly wanted to say thank you to him—and tell him that no, you weren't looking for Satoru—but it came out hoarse and barely above a whisper.
"Huh?" Nanami then realized what you were trying to say, and a faint smile graced his lips. "Just... get well soon, L/N. Have a good rest."
Just before you drifted back to sleep, you could hear him sigh and mutter, "Hello, Gojo-san? L/N has awakened. Just letting you know is all.”
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You weren't sure how much time had passed when you woke up the second time, but the curtains were already drawn and only darkness came from the window. Your body felt lighter, but you still felt like a mess and and couldn't help but groan in discomfort.
Satoru was there, he perked up at the noise you made. And you realized that it was the first time in about a week that he faced you after that disasterous almost-breakup.
He walked up to you, his expression was more hopeful than you had ever seen him before, like a kid whose wish had been granted. He slowly shifted to sit beside you.
"Hey, welcome back." His voice was soft. It was a change of pace for him, as you were used to seeing him all loud and silly.
Now your voice no longer sounds like a lead. "Hey."
"How are you feeling?" he asked and you took a moment to look at him. He was smiling, but exhaustion reached his bright eyes, dimming them. "You know, with the whole you passing out and almost dying thing?"
His words were almost humorous as he spoke, like he didn't know what else to say except try to lighten the mood, but there was also a strain on his tone, like he was holding back.
"I'm quite fine now, I suppose..." You still felt the lingering pain and dizziness as you slowly sat up. Satoru reached out to steady you—and you realized how his fingers trembled when they made contact with your body—as his brows furrowed with worry when you winced.
"You don't look like it though." His voice dropped and the humor was gone, replaced by this haunted look. You blinked. It was probably the first time you had seem him this ruffled.
He immediately pulled you into a hug, cradling your head to his neck gently, as if to protect and shield you from the world altogether. Exhaling heavily, he leaned on you. "You scared me, you know that?"
You wondered out loud if you really had that hold over him. "Did I?"
"You can't do that to me, you hear?" Satoru stroked your hair, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. His voice quivered. “Don't ever do that again.”
He pulled you tighter against him, but still careful not to crush you.
You let out a snicker, letting go of everything you felt during this horrible week. "Heh, afraid to lose me, huh?"
"Shut up,” he grumbled. “What were you thinking anyway? How did you calculate that freefalling is better than letting that cursed spirit attack Ichiji?”
"He was defenseless. He could die, you know that."
"And you also can," he quipped, upset, pulling away enough to look you squarely in the eyes, his eyes devoid of any expression, yet filled with a raging wave that you could only interpret as undiluted concern.
The emphasis in his tone made you recoil and feel guilty. If you were in his shoes, you probably would've said the same thing and so you had nothing to say to that.
But the more pressing agenda in the list was the unspoken silent treatment the two of you saw fit to use against each other for the last few days. Satoru was the one who decided to address it first.
"About that night..." he faltered, looking away. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."
Satoru always had trouble processing emotions. This time too. He must've a hard time dealing with the anxiety caused by the possibility of him losing you for good, no matter how much he tried to be unaware of it.
"..." You wanted to respond, to make him understand your point, but somehow right now you were just too weary. And he sensed your reluctance. So you blurted the first thing that gnawed at your mind.
“You said you could have any other women out there—”
"No, really—" he started to panic, and it was blatantly too, which surprised you. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Us. I don't regret anything. I’m not breaking up with you. Being with you is the happiest I've been ever since Suguru left."
“That's...” you blinked, before letting out a small sigh. “Okay. Fine then. Let's just put it behind us for now.”
“I—” he almost wheezed, his bright blue eyes were overtaken with sheer urgency to explain how wrong everything had been that night. “You must know that I didn’t mean any of it. And that I hate hurting you the way I did. I won’t—”
"Satoru, I understand," you let out another sigh, fidgeting with your fingers. "Sometimes when I’m reminded of Haibara, I also get sad. I don't want to presume but I think I know how you feel. Just next time, maybe," you shifted your gaze on him, seeing how you had his attention fully. Gojo Satoru, the strongest now, was looking at you as if you had his fate in your hands. "Just tell me if you need space and I would have understood."
"Yeah, okay, sure," he responded immediately, relieved, before a lopsided grin appeared on his face, turning him back into your dork slash boyfriend. "So, am I forgiven now?"
"A thank you would be nice."
In the end, he chuckled, seemingly resigned. "You should sleep more."
He positioned himself into bed next to you, and you let him pull you into his chest again. You could feel how his taut back started to relax upon the contact. He pressed his lips on your forehead in a fleeting kiss.
"Promise me you won't pull that stunt again.”
You smirked. "I can't. What if Ichiji—"
"Then just let him die."
You swatted his arm playfully, pressing your head to his chest as he continued to run his fingers on your hair. He cushioned you carefully, and you felt the tension in him slowly melt away with each breath you took. In your mind, you figured he needed this closeness more than you did, if anything, for the sake of his sanity.
“I love you,” he whispered by your ear, kissing it lightly.
“Mmhm.”
As you felt Satoru's calming presence, it helped ease you into slumber. You soon found yourself in a deep sleep, comfortably held in his embrace.
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Epilogue
Ichiji gulped as Satoru stared him down, sizing him up as if he was the most despicable creature on this planet.
Okay, he might be. He was a coward, all he could do was trembling in the face of evil. But he had come in peace, even bringing fruits as an offering! He felt bad too that he was the partial cause for you to be this injured.
He was used to Satoru terrorizing him—calling him names, slapping him, and whatnot—and he could take it. Just this time, he really looked like he could murder him on the spot if he wanted to. A small part of Ichiji mourned that you were his girlfriend, because that pretty much sealed his fate that Gojo Satoru could indeed murder him on the spot because he had a valid enough reason to.
"You are—"
"No! I'm sorry, Gojo-san! I'm sorry for my incompetence!"
"Hah?"
If he was mildly irked before, now Satoru was visibly irritated.
"You're not cut out to be a jujutsu sorcerer," he started. "You're useless. You just get in the way most of the time."
Ichiji kept his head down. No, no. He can't cry!
"Get your driving license or I'll slap the shit out of you."
"Oh?" and before he knew it, Satoru had stalked away, leaving him in the dust. How rude! But...
Get a driver license? Quit the jujutsu work?
Hey, that sounds like something I can do!
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the-voidwalker · 1 year
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animexts · 8 months
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Please don't die | Megumi Fushiguro
Sumarry: Megumi feels his world crumble when he sees Y/n on the brink of death.
Paring: Megumi X Mother figure!Reader | WC: 2.877
A/N: Well, I'm sorry for any mistakes I made here, I'll review it later. This story, the reader is Gojo's wife.
Main masterlist | jjk Masterlist
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Megumi feels her body freeze when she sees Y/n's body being thrown by the curse they were facing.
"Y/n-sensei!" He hears Itadori screaming in the background, but all he can pay attention to is Y/n's bleeding body lying unconscious on the floor.
“It's not your fault”
Is what she would say to him, and then she would give him that smile that manages to relax his whole body.
Y/n was a special grade sorceress, and to Megumi, she was not only the best sorceress, but also the best person.
She was smart, responsible, loving and just the best mother he could ever have.
"Why didn't you fucking take care of her?"
Megumi thinks, clenching her fists with all her strength.
He never thought he would want Gojo's presence as much as he does now.
As if his legs were moving by themselves, he was running over to Y/n and kneeling beside her body.
"Sensei please wake up." He says rocking her gently.
"Sensei please... please don't die mom." He says crying and rubbing his hand on her face.
If he was a little stronger, if he was faster, he never wanted to fulfill the promise he made with Gojo a few years ago so much.
"Listen Megumi, since we're going to share Y/n, you need to promise me that you'll take care of her with your life." Gojo says looking seriously at the Boy.
"She's strong, I don't think she needs my protection." The boy says with his arms crossed. "She's strong yes, but it turns out she'd rather protect those she loves than herself." Megumi looks at Gojo and sighs
"Okay, I promise to protect her"
And during her lifetime, Megumi saw how right Gojo was, Y/n put herself in danger several times to save him or some of the students, both first and second years.
"They're just kids"
Was what she always said.
And unfortunately, that's what was happening now, Y/n spent the day exorcising curses practically alone, as seeing how Itadori and Nobara were still hurt from the previous mission, it sure exhausted her.
"Please Mom, don't leave me too." Megumi says hugging Y/n's body.
He is so desperate, he didn't even notice Gojo coming and finally exorcising the curse.
The Shaman feels his blood run cold when he sees his wife covered in blood, it was even sadder to see Megumi in that state.
"Megumi, let's take her to shoko." Satoru says trying to take his wife from Megumi's arms.
"No! don't take her away from me!" He says holding tighter.
"Come on Megumi, if I take her it will be faster, please is my wife you're holding." Gojo says and Megumi, still reluctant, hands Y/n to Gojo, who immediately leaves.
"Don't worry, Y/n sensei Is one.of the strongest people I've ever met, well she and Gojo sensei." Itadori says putting his hand on Megumi's shoulder.
The strongest couple
Megumi remembers perfectly well only the day when Gojo introduced Y/n to him and his sister. Unlike Gojo, Y/n was responsible, more serious and easier to talk to.
"Here you are, my beautiful wife Y/n!" Gojo says putting his arm around her shoulders.
"I'm not your wife." Y/n says pushing him, and bending down to be at the children's height.
"You're not YET"
"Hi, don't worry, me and this idiot here will take good care of you two." Y/n says, and gives the kids a warm smile.
And that's what she's been doing since they met, Megumi thinks, no, rehash that, he KNEW he wouldn't be the man he is today if it weren't for Y/n's (and Gojo's, of course) incredible upbringing.
"You're worried about sensei aren't you?" Nobara says, as the three walk back to the school.
"I'm sure you don't have to worry, she's pretty tough!" Itadori says smiling.
"I hope you're right." Megumi says, and feels her palms sweat when they arrive at school, and see Gojo sitting on the stairs.
"Look who's here! It took you a while huh." Gojo says standing up and Megumi sighs in relief.
Even though he knows that his sensei is very good at hiding his feelings, he knows that the feeling of losing his wife, best friend, could not be hidden.
Gojo looks at him and sees the anguish on his face.
"She's fine, she's in there resting." He says, and Megumi's face turns red.
"I knew!" Itadori says jumping up.
"You two can go rest, Megumi and I are having a family reunion here with Miss Saves Everyone's Life." Gojo says, and he and Megumi head to their rooms.
"I'm sorry sensei, I couldn't protect her as I should have and as I promised you." Megumi says as the two walk to their rooms.
"I know how much you love her, and you tried to protect her, just like I know how stubborn my wife is, when she wants to protect someone, nobody can stop her." Gojo says and notices that Megumi has clenched her fists.
"I thought you were used to her craziness by now." Satoru says trying to lighten the mood.
"I don't think I'll ever get used to the feeling of almost losing her."
"Me neither" Gojo thinks.
Gojo knocks on the door, and opens it carefully, Megumi almost cries when she sees the state of the woman who always conveys that powerful and independent aura.
"Gumi!" Y/n speaks softly but with happiness in her voice when she sees the younger boy.
"Sensei..." He says quietly, as he doesn't trust his voice anymore.
"Oh Gumi, I was so worried about you." She says with teary eyes.
"I... I'm sorry sensei, I couldn't protect you like I should have." Megumi bows with her eyes closed, making Gojo and Y/n look at him in surprise.
"What are you talking about? I should protect you Gumi, I know I'm not your blood mother but-"
"Don't finish that sentence, you are my mother, and I owe you my life you've protected me my whole life, I want to protect you now... mom." Megumi says crying.
"Oh my love come here." Y/n says opening his arms, making the younger boy immediately fall into the woman's embrace, just like when he was younger.
"You'll always be my baby." Y/n says and kisses Megumi's head, you might think he wouldn't like it, but coming from her, he almost cries from her affection.
"I think for the sake of my sanity, and Megumi's, you better stop giving your life for others, because baby I swear that if you die, the world will gain two crazy mad sorcerers." Gojo says taking off his blindfold.
"And we don't want that right?" Y/n says laughing.
"No, definitely not." Megumi responds by laughing too.
Gojo and Y/n look at each other smiling fondly, they were doing a good job.
"Family hug!" Gojo says lying on top of Megumi.
"You're going to hurt Y/n you freak, get out of here." Megumi says trying to push Gojo away.
They weren't the most perfect family of all, but there was more love than many out there.
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wileys-russo · 3 months
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maternal instinct II a.russo x reader
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maternal instinct II a.russo x reader
"you're sure you don't want us to stay? cook dinner? help unpack? provide general love and company? we're more than happy to lessi!" beth pressed as alessia smiled at her friends and now club teammates.
"yes. i promise i'll be fine, we've got tomorrow off and i'll unpack then. i love you all very much but i'm exhausted!" alessia chuckled tiredly as her friends nodded in understanding. "well call us if you need anything yeah? anything." leah pushed as alessia nodded, opening the door for them.
"do you want us to come over tomorrow night? i'll cook!" lotte offered making alessia laugh as they hovered by the door. even more of the girls having helped her alongside her family and the movers today alessia's social battery was nearing zero, so as much as she appreciated everyones love and concern, she really just needed the time to recharge.
"i will speak to you all tomorrow, goodbye!" alessia hinted heavily, her friends hugging her and finally taking off toward the elevators as the blonde stood in her doorway and waved them off as still they lingered for a moment.
her lips curled into a smile and she shook her head as leah was finally pulled into the elevator, hanging around as if alessia might change her mind, her hand shooting out to wave before beth smacked it back inside and the doors closed.
"rawr!" alessia jumped a foot in the air and slipped, crashing down to the floor with a groan and a wince. "oh my god isabella!" she heard an unfamiliar voice hiss as footsteps thumped over and a hand extended to help her up.
"i am so so sorry." alessia found herself speechless as she was pulled up and faced the new voice, met with a gorgeous stranger who looked as though she couldn't have been too dissimilar in age to alessia herself.
"she learned what a practical joke is at school last week and she thinks its hilarious to scare people, nearly gave the poor elderly gent four doors down a heart attack yesterday." the stranger sighed and thats when alessia noticed the tiny girl hidden behind her leg, peering out every now and then.
"its okay, really. i was born with two left feet so it doesn't take much for me to hit the floor." alessia joked, rubbing her tailbone which she was sure would be bruised tomorrow from the impact. "well i'm still very sorry, its hardly very welcoming when your new neighbours have you tumbling over to the floor, you just moved in today right?" the girl smiled kindly as alessia nodded.
"i promise its no problem, i'm alessia." the blonde held her hand out as you introduced yourself and shook it. "this is isabella" you nodded down to your five year old daughter hidden behind your leg.
"bella say hi and say sorry for scaring alessia please." you requested softly, hand gently guiding your daughter out from behind you as alessia squatted down, well aware her height wouldn't help the young girl feel any less intimidated.
"hi, sorry for scaring you." the girl mumbled, still clinging onto your leg as she glanced up at alessia with a shy smile. "thats okay, i've got two big brothers and i liked to scare them when i was your age too." alessia grinned, bellas smile widening at her words.
"its very lovely to meet you, i like your shoes." alessia pointed downward before shuffling a little so the girl could see she was sporting the same ones.
"woah your feet are huge!" bella gasped with wide eyes, bending down to poke at alessia's trainers making her laugh as you winced. "sorry! she's not got much of a filter, i'm working on it." you sighed with a small chuckle as alessia pushed up to stand again.
"hey honesty is the best policy right?" alessia joked kindly as bella continued to poke at her shoes and you gently pulled her away.
"well we'll leave you to settle in but welcome to the building! i'm sure we'll see you around alessia." you gave her another smile and turned back toward your own apartment, the blonde grinning as isabella gave her an enthusiastic wave before sprinting inside.
~
and indeed it wasn't very long before alessia saw either of you again.
"oh shit! no no no." alessia panicked, feeling around in her pockets and shaking her bag but coming up empty, suddenly having a vision of her keys where she'd left them on the counter this morning, too used to having them connected to her car key but not having gotten around to it with this new set just yet.
grabbing out her phone she called the building manager, huffing when it instantly went to voicemail and didn't even allow her to leave one. wracking her brain for what her next move could be she tapped her foot and flicked through her contacts, though no one would really be able to help her unless they were a locksmith.
so with a sigh she left her bag by her door and moved to stand in front of yours, raising her fist and knocking a few times. but when there was no answer she turned away assuming you weren't home, barely making it a few steps before the door clicked.
"alessia?" you called out curiously, the blonde turning with a sheepish smile. "i'm really really sorry to bother you, but i've locked myself out and i can't get through to mr brooks." alessia rubbed the back of her neck, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
"he'll be playing poker, turns his phone off on saturdays. does anyone have your spare?" you chuckled, alessia shaking her head. "its still inside. with moving in and settling in at my new club and trainings and media appearances i haven't had a chance." alessia groaned, throwing her head back as you gave her a look of sympathy.
"look i'm well aware we were all taught about stranger danger in school, but would you like to wait inside? i've got a number for a good locksmith, he works weekends he might just take a few hours if he's got other jobs." you offered kindly, alessia stuttering out that she didn't want to be a bother.
"you wouldn't be, i promise. i just made lunch and there's more than enough for two." you assured, opening your door wider and gesturing for her to join.
"i don't bite! i promise." you joked, a smile curling onto the taller girls lips as she finally accepted the offer, grabbing her bag and stepping inside your apartment.
"bella's at her dads." you answered while dishing you both up a bowl, alessia not needing to ask but clearly noting the lack of your daughter. "alessia you can sit down." you laughed at how awkward she seemed, finding it quite endearing and a tiny bit cute.
"my friends call me less, or lessi." alessia clarified, leaving her bag by the door and taking a seat at your dining table. "we're friends already? maybe that stranger danger lecture hasn't sunk in for you." you teased with a grin, alessia's face blushing bright red.
"no! i didn't mean that sorry i just meant-" the blonde rambled as you placed the bowl of pasta down in front of her. "i'm only teasing, less." you smiled, taking a seat across from her and nodding for her to eat, the girl declining your offer of a drink.
~
"nah i just don't know if i can get over that." alessia denied with a firm shake of her head as you playfully swatted at her arm, the two of you now sat much more comfortably on your lounge getting to know each other.
"i was five! i didn't know any better." you laughed, snatching back the photo from her grip which showed a much younger you sat on your fathers shoulders at a liverpool game, jersey on and face painted.
"you can ask you know." you smiled knowingly as alessia's eyes hovered on a picture of you and bella when she was just a baby, bundled up in a bright blue blanket stitched with tiny pink flowers your mother had made.
"ask what?" alessia questioned with a confused frown. "about her, being a teen mum is interesting to everyone. you're just too polite to acknowledge it unlike most other people." you smiled as alessias cheeks flushed red, wondering if you had some sort of mind reading power.
"i didn't-i wouldn't want to-" alessia stammered out quickly. "you wouldn't, i promise. there's not much i've not been asked before really." you assured gently as alessia nodded, more as if to reassure herself than assure you.
"how old were you?" the blonde asked after a short pause had passed. "eighteen when i fell pregnant, nineteen once i gave birth. yes it was an accident, no i didn't know her dad before we got drunk and slept together. we were young and stupid, the condom broke and i told him it was fine!" you rolled your eyes at your own reckless decision.
"so he's..." alessia trailed off, clearly still feeling a little awkward which made you chuckle. "he's in the picture. he's a good guy and a good dad but like i said we didn't know each other. naturally he freaked out when i told him, i didn't hear from him for a few months but i also didn't expect anything from him." you shrugged.
"my parents were actually much more supportive than i thought. it took me the longest to tell them because i was scared but they promised no matter what i chose they'd support me, and it meant more than they'll ever know." you smiled softly at the memory as alessia hung off your every word.
"so he came back into the picture, his parents took a little more convincing but between all of us we came up with a plan before she was even born. we alternate weekends and given i work at her school and live closest to the doctors and our parents she lives with me most of the time, but he takes her on tuesday and thursday afternoons and we communicate when things don't work or if he wants to see her more." you explained as alessia nodded.
"that sounds really healthy." the blonde observed, leaning her head on her hand, elbow pressed into the back of the lounge. "did the two of you ever try and-" alessia clearly struggled to find the right words making you smile.
"we both just want whats best for her. we established pretty early on that we're absolutely not each others person but we are hers, and she comes first always." you answered as now alessia smiled softly, clearly seeing how much you cared for your daughter.
your conversation stilled as there was a few sharp knocks at the door clearly in some sort of intended pattern, and seeing the curious look on alessia's face you chuckled. "i'd love to say thats the locksmith but that'll be bella." you smiled, standing up to your feet and making your way over to the door.
you'd barely opened it a few centimetres before your daughter was wiggling her way through and crashing into you, tightly hugging your leg and making you laugh.
alessia watched on fondly from the lounge, a smile curling into her lips as she watched the interaction, a few words exchanged between your ex and yourself confirming arrangements for next week before bella noticed the new person on the lounge.
"big feet!" your daughter chirped in greeting as you closed the front door and your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "bella! that is not her name." you told her off flashing alessia an apologetic wince who waved it off, grin on her face.
"why are you here?" bella asked curiously, climbing up onto the lounge and settling herself next to alessia, wiggling around to get comfortable. "i did something very silly and i locked my keys inside my house!" alessia smacked her hand against her forehead with a scoff making bella giggle.
"did your dad feed you or is the monster in your stomach hungry bel?" you called out, her head popping up over the back of the lounge. "mmm dad fed me. but not the monster, the monsters hungry!" bella announced as you hummed in understanding.
"and what is the monster hungry for?" you questioned with an amused smile. "alessia whats your favourite sandwich?" bella turned to the footballer beside her who looked caught off guard. "oh gosh um, ham and cheese?" alessia spoke out the first thing which came to mind.
"ham and cheese please! one for the monster and one for big feet." bella answered with a concise nod as you sighed at the nickname but found yourself relieved as alessia only laughed.
"so bella, tell me about this monster in your tummy. how on earth did it get in there?"
~
"snap! i win." bella cheered happily, jumping around with a grin as alessia groaned dramatically, collapsing back into the lounge with a playful frown.
"you are just too fast! i didn't even see your hand move. do you have super powers?" alessia tutted with a shake of her head as you smiled, admittedly melting at how easily she seemed to get along with your daughter.
"its cause the monsters brain and my brain mash together and make one huge brain so i'm really fast and strong and smart! but its okay you're not very good at this game." bella explained, patting the strikers knee apologetically for the loss making you laugh and alessia jokingly shove at your shoulder.
the game was interrupted by another few knocks at the door, bella climbing back onto the lounge to continue chattering away to alessia as you stood to answer.
"all fixed." you smiled as paul handed you the new key, seeing alessia's door had been opened. "thank you! i'll just go-" you turned as the older man quickly shook his head. "don't be silly love. i owed your dad a favour anyway, tell him its paid up." he promised as you thanked him and offered a tea or coffee, paul apologizing stating he'd have to leave, needing to run off to another job.
thanking him again you waved the man off and closed your door. "good news! you're in." you smiled, holding the key up as alessia exhaled a deep sigh of relief. "thank you so much, wait where did he go? i didn't even pay!" alessia panicked as you quickly reassured her it was fine.
"he owed my dad a favour, break in was free of charge." you teased lightly, handing her the key as the colour returned to her face. "thank you again, and for letting me potato it out on your lounge all afternoon. i hope you didn't have any plans?" alessia worried as you shook your head.
"none at all, really it was lovely getting to know you a bit better. bella and i haven't really met many people in the building, i know she can be...a lot sometimes." you put lightly, glancing at your daughter over alessia's shoulder where she sat on the floor making two of her dolls wrestle one another.
"no way, i wish i was half as cool as she is when I was her age." alessia laughed, hand squeezing your knee in reassurance before she stood. "but i should really get out of your hair. thank you for lunch too! i'd love to return the favour if you and bella would like to come over for dinner sometime?" alessia offered with a kind smile.
"we would!" bella answered before you could, appearing between the two of you suddenly with a grin as you rolled your eyes fondly. "well you're both more than welcome." alessia promised, bending down to isabella's height with a grin that matched hers.
"thanks for playing with me big feet!" alessia nearly fell backward as the five year old threw her arms around her neck in a tight hug before racing off and leaving you shaking your head after her as alessia pushed back up to her feet.
grabbing her bag alessia stepped outside as you gave her a smile so warm it nearly bowled her back over again, the blonde finding herself lingering on your doorstep despite her own apartment being a mere few feet away.
"um. could i maybe grab your number? so we can organise dinner!" alessia clarified quickly, her ears flushing pink as a hundred worries that she'd make you uncomfortable rushed to the forefront of her mind.
this wasn't like her, she didn't ask for strangers numbers and spend hours in their apartments and invite them over for dinner. and yet, here she was doing all of that and finding herself near praying you'd say yes.
"sure." you nodded happily, holding your hand out for her phone which alessia hurried to tug out of her pocket, unlock and and place down gently into the palm of your outstretched hand.
watching as you added in your number and handed it back to her, the two of you fell into a few beats of comfortable silence, exchanging a smile which seemed to be a wordless farewell.
"wait!" alessia paused as she was turning to head back to her own apartment, watching bella wiggle her way out of of the half closed door. "here." she held out a small pink and blue braided bracelet up to the striker.
"so you can put your key on it and wear it so you don't lock it inside again!" the five year old smiled, patting alessia's leg before racing off back into the apartment. "thank you!" alessia called out with a tender smile, sending you a nod which you returned with a soft smile before your apartment door closed and alessia turned to head into her own.
~
"and then you have to make sure there's lots of flour on the board." alessia instructed as bella nodded and you watched on with a smile, the two in your kitchen making both dinner and a mess.
the dinners had become sort of an unspoken routine, the first one at alessias house running so late that bella had wound up taking a much needed nap in alessia's spare room while the two of you spoke for hours and hours.
since then you found yourself in her kitchen or her in yours at least once a week, alessia one of the most patient women you'd ever met as she made sure to include your daughter in all of the cooking, keeping an eye nearly as watchful as yours on her energetic five year old sous chef.
you'd of course taken charge more than once and cooked for her, but you noticed that alessia genuinly enjoyed cooking for others, and you would always notice the clear joy in her eyes when you and bella clearly expressed how good her cooking was, your daughters tummy monster rapidly becoming her biggest fan.
"then we carefully use this little roller and we roll and roll and roll, and look! it cuts the pasta into little shapes." alessia explained, her hand guiding isabella's which was clamped around the tool, the girls face ablaze with wonder.
"woah! so cool." bella exhaled, eyes wide as you met alessia's gaze with a soft smile, your cheeks becoming a little warm as the taller girl sent you a wink and turned her attention back to your daughter.
you'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't noticed that maybe you might harbour some more than friendly feelings for your blonde neighbour, but you were also very used to squashing these and compartmentalizing what your priorities were.
"does the monster want red sauce or green sauce?" alessia asked, pulling a face and making bella giggle from where she sat on the counter swinging her legs to and from.
"red." bella paused as if to consult with the imaginary gremlin inside her before deciding as alessia smiled at the sight. all it had taken was one joke that your daughters appetite must be because she had a monster living in her tummy and she'd ran with it, proudly telling everyone and anyone about her new best friend.
you left them to it and turned your attention to the report cards scattered across the dining room table, all that was left was to check you'd covered everyone in your class and sign it off and your weekend would be stress free.
what you failed to notice though was that as much as you'd sneak a glance at alessia every now and then with a soft smile, the moment you'd look back away she was doing the same, feelings which matched yours fluttering away in her stomach but unsure what to do about them.
the decision came later that night when bella had been tucked in and was long asleep, much to her demands that she should be allowed to stay up and join your 'girls night' because she was a big girl and she didn't have school tomorrow.
but with alessia saying goodnight and promising to come over on the weekend before hiding away in your bedroom occupying herself watching tv.
so thinking she now wasn't missing out on anything you'd then wrestled the five year old into bed and read her her favourite story, bella not even making it five pages in before her eyes drooped and suddenly she was dead asleep.
despite that you still read through the story cover to cover, having done so ever since she was little you weren't about to break the tradition now.
kissing her forehead and very quietly making your way out of the room, you closed her bedroom door with the most gentle click possible and exhaled, crossing the hallway to your own bedroom.
"we're safe!" you joked, knocking on the door frame as the blonde looked up from her phone. "what did i miss then?" you moved to sit beside her on the bed, both you and alessia watching the night agent together.
"another murder, loads of anonymous phone calls, nothing serious." alessia shrugged, whining as you smacked her leg. "who got murdered! thats not a detail to be skipped over russo." you clicked your tongue as she playfully rolled her eyes.
"maybe if you hadn't watched ahead and forced me to catch up, i might have been more forth coming with information." alessia shrugged pulling a face as you scoffed.
"i only watched ahead because you bailed on dinner last week!" you teased shoving her. "oh i am so sorry for being sick and not wanting to share germs, how horribly selfish of me." alessia gasped as you nodded. "i'm so glad you're finally seeing it from my point of view." you sighed, squealing as her fingers dug into your sides.
"no no no i'm sorry!" you begged, trying to push her off as her fingers attacked, poked and prodded at your sides. "less!" you laughed out, trying to shove her off as the two of you grappled, alessia now squealing as your hand poked at her ribs which were just as ticklish as yours.
"okay okay, truce!" alessia panted out, your body half on top of hers as your hands left one anothers bodys and you collapsed a little into her, both of you vibrating against one another with much more gentle laughter.
a silence fell between you as you pulled your head off of her chest, glancing down at her and finding yourself immediately sucked into the vibrant baby blue pools of her affectionate gaze.
alessia's own eyes also locked in with yours, suddenly becoming very aware of the close and pressed together nature of your bodies, the taller girl pushing herself up ever so slightly, noticing you didn't recoil away as her face was now mere centimeters from yours.
her eyes searched your face for any sign that you didn't want this as much as she did, coming up a little unsure unable to completely read your expression decided to just take a chance.
you weren't caught completely off guard at the sudden feel of her soft lips pressed to yours, but your breath did hitch slightly as her hands ever so carefully cupped your face, deepening it a little but not pushing things too far.
but that tiny adjustment in position was all it took for the alarm bells to ring in the back of your head and your walls to shoot right back up from where she'd spent weeks scaling over them and sneaking her way into your life.
so you pulled away and sat up, forcing your eyes away and missing how her face fell at your change in body language, regret burning her mouth like it was full of bitter ashes.
"i am so sorry, i should go." alessia managed out, sitting up as you caught the hints of insecurity in her tone and she quickly hurried out of your bedroom. "less wait!" you rushed after her and grabbed her wrist as she stood by your front door, heart feeling as if someone was squeezing it in their fists at the look on her face.
"i do like you, really. but i come with...a lot of baggage." you sighed out, alessia's face curving downward into a frown.
"i have a child alessia. bella is my life and i would never ever do anything to confuse or hurt her, and bringing people in and out of my life that aren't just friends can be really hard to understand at her age." you started, running a hand through your hair with another sigh.
alessia waited a moment to see if you continued, but when you didn't she took intitiative to speak up for herself.
"i'd love to say i understand that but i don't have a child so that would be a lie. but i know bringing someone romantically into your circle can be a lot, with or without other things going on-" alessia started softly.
"-but i really like bella. i wasn't lying when she said she is literally the coolest kid i've ever met, and looking at her mum its no wonder she is such a special, kind and loving little human being. but again, i can imagine that at her age it can be really scary to dangle someone in front of her that she bonds with and connects with and when things don't work out and they leave, how hard it would be to explain why." alessia continued sincerely, gaze locked with yours.
"i would never rush you into anything. obviously this is different than a normal relationship when there's a third parties feelings being taken into consideration, but i promise to never overstep with that, everything can be on your terms." alessia promised, a lump in your throat at the tenderness her words seemed to carry.
alessia found herself pulling you into a hug, your body melting perfectly into hers as you found a warmth blossoming in your chest as your face pressed into her shoulder, her strong arms holding you tight within them, chin hooking over your shoulder as she stood a head or so taller.
"i also really like you, and i've loved getting to know both you and bella. i'd love to see where this might go but i know there's more to think about than just you and i, so i promise i'm happy being friends too. just...think it over." at those words she let you go, tugging your door open and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before suddenly she was gone, only the lingering feeling of her lips against your skin all that was left.
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Text
humans are space orcs
imagine someone with chronic joint pain, whose dream their whole lives has been to go to space and meet the aliens and be a scientist and learn
so they look up the requirements as a kid and go "fuck."
they wouldn't make the cut.
their dreams are dashed. hopes ruined. lifelong dre destroyed.
except....
they've never really said a whole lot about their pain. they don't particularly like doctors, and they think that they've been managing just fine, so they never saw the point.
so maybe... maybe if they just don't say anything, they can make it to space.
they spend all of their time training. doing physical therapy exercises so that their joints aren't so loose, soaking up as much scientific and mathematical knowledge as they can, teaching themselves to push through the worst of it in pursuit of their dream.
and they make it.
they make it to space! it was gruelling, tortuous work, but they made it!
their first mission is an exploratory one, with a diverse crew which only has one other human.
they're thrilled.
they have dozens of alien friends and acquaintances. they spend hours learning and researching alien planets and cultures. it's everything they've ever wanted!
but
it's exhausting.
they're in more pain than they've ever been, more frequently than they ever have.
they keep up their exercises as best they can, but even those are often too much.
they smile when asked if they're alright, tell everyone that "i'm fine! just tired."
but they need a break. they can't imagine going or being sent back to earth, this is their home now, with these people, on this ship. but they don't know how much longer they can take this.
one day, on their day off, a fellow researcher comes and knocks on their door.
"are you here?"
"not today islith."
"but we've been called! there are some exciting new discoveries that need further cataloging and investigation, and carlmoth thought you would enjoy the task!"
"i can't today, islith."
"are you ill?"
"...kind of? but i'll be right as rain tomorrow. it's my day off anyhow."
"nonsense! you should go down to medbay!"
"i'm alright, i promise."
"you get out here right this minute or i'll report you to medbay myself!"
"no!" there's a series of crashes and thumps, and then they open the door.
"oh, you look awful. come on, you really must need medbay, what if you're contagious." islith tries to grab them but they shy away.
"i'm not contagious, i promise."
"how can you possibly know that? what if you picked it up from a sample, or, or, garfon has been sick recently! humans can't survive cerian sicknesses-"
"i didn't catch something from garfon, islith," they sigh and open the door wider. "come in and let me explain."
"alright, but if i think you should go to medbay afterwards then i'm taking you there."
"sure, islith."
islith enters, notices the piles of clothes, rumpled bedsheets, the lights are off and the port window shut.
"what's wrong?"
they sigh again, "my body doesn't work like it's meant to, islith."
islith is wildly alarmed, "and you said there was no need for medbay?!? come with me right now and-"
"no! i can't, islith, you don't understand."
"then explain it to me."
"i've... always been this way, although it's gotten worse as i've gotten older. my body, it just isn't built quite right, there's something wrong with it that makes it not work properly and hurt often."
"you're right, i don't understand. why can't you go to medbay?"
"i'd... be thrown off the ship."
"what?!?"
and so they tell islith a story about a young child whose dream was to touch the stars.
"and now, it's too late. i'd get in huge trouble for lying to the government, especially for so long."
"well- but- but humans are so resilient! you hear all the stories!"
"not every human is the same, islith. some of us are born disabled, and some of us get hurt in accidents, just like any other species."
"well, then, well there must be something we can do?"
they look up in shock, "we?"
"of course we, you ridiculous creature," islith said with a fond sigh. "you didn't think i'd leave you to suffer, would you?"
"but, you could get in so much trouble!"
"that's alright, i don't mind. what else are friends for? and, anyway, we don't have to tell your government, we can tell mine."
"but i'll-"
"we don't have any rules like that. any of us who are disabled can still manage in space just fine with the right support, and i bet you could too."
"i- islith- i don't-"
"don't worry, we'll all back you when it comes down to it. you're out teammate, our family. no one on this ship wants to watch you leave because of something you can't control. now come on, let's talk to glidlep in medical, she'll understand."
and for years, things continued on that way, until eventually it was an open secret that the human with the exosuit was disabled and not technically allowed onboard.
and down the line, when nasa found out and was furious, the entire ship and more stood by their side.
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venusbby · 1 year
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post it, or don't ♡
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characters/pairings: itoshi rin x reader
warnings: one cuss word lol, not proofread sorry if there's any typos!!! have a good day people.
✿ summary: your tired boyfriend is not a big fan of your spam account being filled with his overly cute photos.
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"stop that—"
"stop what?"
"you're taking pictures of me."
"im not, rinnie."
you definitely were.
how could you not take pictures of him when he's sprawled out on top of you like a house cat?
although he was trying his best not to put all of his weight on you, it was impossible to control himself. especially when his body was quite sore from his new workout routine.
rin was unusually clingy today, his exhaustion was responsible for that. initially, all he needed was to lie down on the bed and let his muscles rest against the mattress— but then he realised you were already there, scrolling through your social media.
he just couldn't say no when you opened your arms and called out to him with that soft voice of yours, and he had already started to dream of the satisfying feeling of your hands running through his hair by that time.
and that's how he ended up with his face nestled in your neck and his legs tangled with yours, much to your enjoyment and his instant regret when you clicked on the camera icon and watched the mess of the dark green hair that tickled your cheek.
he didn't realise anything at first because his eyes were closed and he was actually considering falling asleep right then and there. however, the clicking sound of your phone was enough to make him groan and hide his face further.
but your laugh was so soft yet contagious, right next to his ear, and he was holding onto that one string of hope that you wouldn't record a video of his immediate complaints.
"babyyy, say hi!" you said while doing the exact thing he didn't want you to do— recording a video. it was so fun to get on his nerves sometimes.
all he could do was give the side of your bare hips a light squeeze as he tried his best to speak quietly so the video wouldn't pick up what he was saying. "you make me fucking miserable."
your cheeks hurt from how hard you smiled. "alright, okay. i've got my pictures, im satisfied. i'll leave you alone now."
rin slowly peeked up when you placed your phone on the bedside table and shot a glare as you looked down at him. "you're not posting that. i'm tired of seeing my face on my own feed."
"yeah! totally not posting that."
"y/n." it's become a daily thing for him to use your name in that warning tone. "not even the paparazzi post as many pictures of me as you do."
you rolled your eyes. "it's because i'm your biggest fan. just one?"
"no."
"rinnie, pretty please. you just look so cute. gosh, you look even cuter right now." you tried to soften his edges a bit, feeling your chest implode with love because God, your boyfriend was so effortlessly cute. especially when his tired eyes were covered with his dark strands.
all you got in return was a grunt and rin was back to burying his face in the crook of your neck. he really didn't have the energy to deal with your weird ways of convincing. he just needed sleep, and you— he had both of his favourite things now.
you knew he granted you permission once he stopped, or more like gave up, and thanked him softly.
rin hummed as your hands ran over his neck and shoulders and lightly pressed his stiff muscles. a massage to top it all off, your boyfriend was quite literally seeing stars.
"squeeze harder," he mumbled, exhaling slowly when you did as he told you to.
"so, you've been working out."
he didn't respond, waiting for you to say something more related to that as you pondered while pressing your thumb into his skin to ease out the tension.
"don't i deserve a photo or two?" you proposed, a shameless grin on your face when you heard your lover make another noise in annoyance.
"maybe if you don't post that video," rin said, planting a quick kiss against your warm neck as he continued, knowing he had found a good solution. "i'll send you some."
and a few days later, you realised that it was a pretty good deal.
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fjskfjskfndmcndkv. this is all i have to show. bye fellow rin enjoyers.
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frmisnow · 1 month
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✧˖ ?!— MEMORIES W. BF! JUNGKOOK
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—🐟 ‧₊˚ — : " you are so mean !! "
summary. just a collection of fluffy (& suggestive) moments that could've been a whole fic... but didn't become one!
notes. *insert tiktok audio: did you miss us? cause we missed you* i've been wanting to write quite often since me taking a break but the weeks have been TOUGH- regardless i did rly miss all of you ;( hope you enjoy this lil bf! bf! bf! jungkook drabble headcanon-ish thing (?) as a makeup gift for me being gone!!! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
warnings/includes. the most teeth-rotting boyfriend kook there is rly, two very very in love individuals!!, suggestive (making out & hickeys mentioned), drunk
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✧˖ #001. A WISH 4 TATS & ALCOHOL = A MESS.
"this is a horrible idea," you mumbeled as you both stumbeled into another darkly light street, "i got this," jungkook hummed, carefully examining the road to the nearest tattoo shop google maps suggested on his phone.... which was upside down.
"jung- that's not right," shaking your head, turning his phone around, his mouth opening and closing again, "oh"
"you're so smart!" he squeezed your cheeks together, creating one big large pout, placing a quick peek right after which of course turned into the both of you manically making out, leaning back onto the graffiti-filled dirty street wall, the taste of alcohol blatantly evident.
whenever a person would walk by, jungkook would momentarily stop (still holding your face) but turning around and mouthing a quick 'sorry', doing a big ass bow to highlight his apologies- the person would just walk continue walking faster to get out of this alley (and the both of you)
you'd give him a tiny slap on the head murmuring something about him being stupid which he'd dramatically pout about (and probably kiss you to prove you 'wrong' which was just an non-sensical excuse really).
safe to say you woke up the next days with two super cheesy tattoos grazing both of your thighs and a whole lotta hickeys!
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✧˖ #002. MAKE IT LIKE UR BIRTHDAY EVERYDAY!
work was shit literally. the days were tough to the point where the only thing you were looking forward to at the end of the day was seeing jungkook.
ever since your work has been loading you with more & more labour, you could tell he always tried to show up earlier than you, it was in his best efforts to greet the exhausted you, open the door with the widest smile and instantly tightly hug you.
today was no different- at least you thought, in fact it turned out that you completly forgot about your own birthday, leading to you being even more surprised when you walked in directly to an even more wider-smiling jungkook then the usual, holding about five pink ballons.
a rather... messy cake delicately placed on the desk, light-up candles grazing the very very colorful dessert, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!" he yelled out, the large grin never making it's way off his face.
"you're so old," he babbeled jokingly, the second he saw your watery eyes immediately embracing you, mumbling something about 'i didn't mean the old-thing anyway' which made you smile again.
so the night ended with the both of you eating the surpisingly well-turned-out cake together as he listened to you rant about how shitty your boss and work place was, nodding along and grinning at some of your comments.
something in his gaze was so loving and always attentive- certaintly this was one of the best birthdays you had.
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✧˖ #003. YOU ARE SO MEAN!
"one more beer and i might just say you are developing an alcohol addiction," you perclaimed, taking the glass out of jungkooks hands (that were dramatically holding on for dear life) with a little bit of force, in response getting a loud noise of dissapproval from his direction.
he rested his head on the desk, eyes still open, examining you carefully, "don't say that!"
"oh i will," you bopped his nose sarcastically, your tone more sassy than serious, taking a sip of the beer that you now declared yours.
jungkooks face disappeared into his arms as fast as it was visable in the first place, a whiny mumble being heared through the hair that was in your view: "you're so mean"
you could firmly hear the pout in his voice which made you smile when you responded: "and you are very tired, let's get you to sleep"
leaving the beer on the kitchen table, you used your whole power to lift the grown man of the chair (who was now just as desperately like before fighting back), whines and tiny groans being heard through out the kitchen as you lead him to the bathroom.
"i didn't mean the mean thing by the way," he muttered almost inaudibly while brushing his teeth slowly, "no, i know" you ruffeled through his hair, wrapping your arm around his waist, the both of you looking into the mirror at the same time, the reflection making you both giggle.
"i'm never drinking with you again!"
"you don't mean that"
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barcaatthemoon · 1 month
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sunny || alexia putellas x reader ||
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alexia thinks it's going to be a bad game until she spots you.
alexia's fists were balled up at her sides as she stood in the tunnel. she was desperately trying not to become overwhelmed with frustration. she had spoken with jona at great length about this being her first full 90 back. she felt good all week at practice, but during the warm ups, things took a bad turn.
nothing connected for alexia. her passes felt sloppy, and all the confirmation she needed was the look on her training partner's face. every move that alexia made felt awkward and uncomfortable. a part of her questioned whether she should start at all, but she had to. even if your work meeting ran over, you'd want to tune into the game and see her play. alexia wanted to do this for you.
the two of you had gotten together just after the world cup. you had seen alexia play before, but not really as her girlfriend. alexia wanted the chance to impress you, even if she thought that you couldn't actually come to today's game. she knew that you'd be watching her no matter what, so she absolutely had to play well for you.
"hey ale, isn't that your girl?" sandra teased as she pointed towards the stands. alexia's eyes followed the direction of sandra's finger until she saw you sitting next to her mother. alba sat on your other side, looking bored as the two of you chatted.
"that's her." alexia smiled as she watched the interaction. alba nudged you, interrupting your conversation to point out that alexia was staring. you looked over at her and waved excitedly, just like you always did. alexia waved back at you, hopeful that the heat she felt coming up to her cheeks wasn't visible.
it was silly, but alexia swore that she felt immediately better after you had smiled at her. she had been fully prepared to go into the game feeling awkward and a little uncomfortable, but now she didn't have to. alexia's movements were much more fluid, allowing for her to get a brace within the first half of the game.
barcelona was always a dominant team, and you had always seen alexia as their best player. today, she was proving everybody who had doubted her because of the injury wrong. you were standing and screaming in the stands cheering her on. by the end of the 90 minute game, you were absolutely exhausted as if you had played alongside your girlfriend.
"i think it is safe to say that la reina is back," patri teased as she slung her arm around alexia's shoulders. she glanced over at the stands where you were following alexia's mother as you and alba spoke to each other. alexia tried to shove patri away, but claudia and jana were right there to replace her.
"hmm, i seem to remember somebody very grumpy about today's game earlier." jana tapped her chin as she pretended to think about something. "i wonder what could have changed?"
"guys," alexia warned. her warning fell on deaf ears, but alexia couldn't bring herself to be genuinely mad with them. they were like her children, and you never did let alexia get too hard on them.
"i thought i saw a certain artist in the stands chatting with the better putellas," claudia teased. alexia did swat at the girl for the joke about alba being better. claudia winced and made a show of rubbing her arm, knowing that you were looking at her.
"stop being such a baby, it didn't hurt that badly," alexia grumbled. still, claudia held the pout until the group reached the barrier. alexia realized a second too late when she saw you dart towards claudia instead of her what had happened.
"ale, you can't just hit her. babe, i know you think you're being playful, but you are a lot stronger than you know," you scolded her lightly. alexia rolled her eyes as she shoved claudia away before she could get a hug from you. alexia put herself directly into your arms, squeezing you tight and lifting you into the air as she hugged you. "good game today, i've missed seeing you on the field."
"my little good luck charm," alexia mumbled. behind her, you caught claudia and patri mocking the two of you.
"behave, children," you warned. this time, they both jumped apart and stood still. alexia didn't understand how you could do that, but she was glad that you were around to do so. "go shower and get changed, i was thinking that we could go out to eat?"
"that sounds perfect," alexia hummed. you gave her a moment with her family as you gathered up your things. you waited inside for alexia, not wanting to risk getting a sunburn or heat sickness any more than you already had.
"does it hurt?" mapi asked as she slung her arm around alexia's shoulder. for a moment, alexia was genuinely touched that her friend was concerned about the wellbeing of her knee, but that only lasted a couple of seconds. "is the whip that (y/n) uses gentle?"
"shut up," alexia grumbled.
"no, come on. i saw you staring at her all game. i'm surprised you managed to get a touch on the ball with such a big distraction. you stare at her like an idiot stares at the sun." as if alexia needed an example, mapi turned and stared up at the lights with her mouth wide open.
"i was not staring like that, nor was i saring at all. if anything, i took brief pauses to admire (y/n) after i scored or got an assist. if she's willing to take time out of her busy schedue to support me, the least i can do is score for her," alexia reasoned. mapi thought it was all bullshit; sweet, sappy, romantic bullshit.
"whatever, just make sure she keeps coming if you're gonna play like that when she's here."
"trust me, i will," alexia promised. she wanted you at every single one of her games, club and international. if she made it to another world cup, she wanted you to be waiting for a kiss after they won it.
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mdzsartreblogs · 1 year
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Recognizing AI Generated Images, Danmei Edition
Heyo, @unforth here! I run some danmei art blogs (@mdzsartreblogs, @tgcfartreblogs, @svsssartreblogs, @zhenhunartreblogs, @erhaartreblogs, @dmbjartreblogs, @tykartreblogs, and @cnovelartreblogs) which means I see a LOT of danmei art, and I go through the main fandom tags more-or-less every day.
Today, for the first time, I spotted someone posting AI-generated images (I refuse to call them AI "art" - and to be clear, that's correct of me, because at least in the US it literally LEGALLY isn't art) without any label indicating they were AI generated. I am not necessarily against the existence of AI-generated images (though really...considering all the legal issues and the risks of misuse, I'm basically against them); I think they potentially have uses in certain contexts (such as for making references) and I also think that regardless of our opinions, we're stuck with them, but they're also clearly not art and I don't reblog them to the art side blogs.
The images I spotted today had multiple "tells," but they were still accumulating notes, and I thought it might be a good moment to step back and point out some of the more obvious tells because my sense is that a LOT of people are against AI-generated images being treated as art, and that these people wouldn't want to support an AI-generator user who tried to foist off their work as actual artwork, but that people don't actually necessarily know how to IDENTIFY those works and therefore can inadvertently reblog works that they'd never support if they were correctly identified. (Similar to how the person who reposts and says "credit to the artist" is an asshole but they're not the same as someone who reposts without any credit at all and goes out of their way to make it look like they ARE the artist when they're not).
Toward that end, I've downloaded all the images I spotted on this person's account and I'm going to use them to highlight the things that led me to think they were AI art - they posted a total of 5 images to a few major danmei tags the last couple days, and several other images not to specific fandoms (I examined 8 images total). The first couple I was suspicious, but it wasn't til this morning that I spotted one so obvious that it couldn't be anything BUT AI art. I am NOT going to name the person who did this. The purpose of this post is purely educational. I have no interest whatsoever in bullying one rando. Please don't try to identify them; who they are is genuinely irrelevant, what matters is learning how to recognize AI art in general and not spreading it around, just like the goal of education about reposting is to help make sure that people who repost don't get notes on their theft, to help people recognize the signs so that the incentive to be dishonest about this stuff is removed.
But first: Why is treating AI-generated images as art bad?
I'm no expert and this won't be exhaustive, but I do think it's important to first discuss why this matters.
On the surface, it's PERHAPS harmless for someone to post AI-generated images provided that the image is clearly labeled as AI-generated. I say "perhaps" because in the end, as far as I'm aware, there isn't a single AI-generation engine that's built on legally-sourced artwork. Every AI (again, to the best of my knowledge) has been trained using copyrighted images usually without the permission of the artists. Indeed, this is the source of multiple current lawsuits. (and another)
But putting that aside (as if it can be put aside that AI image generators are literally unethically built), it's still problematic to support the images being treated as art. Artists spend thousands of hours learning their craft, honing it, sharing their creations, building their audiences. This is what they sell when they offer commissions, prints, etc. This can never be replicated by a computer, and to treat an AI-generated image as in any way equivalent is honestly rude, inappropriate, disgusting imo. This isn't "harmless"; supporting AI image creation engines is damaging to real people and their actual livelihoods. Like, the images might be beautiful, but they're not art. I'm honestly dreading someone managing to convince fandom that their AI-generated works are actual art, and then cashing in on commissions, prints, etc., because people can't be fussed to learn the difference. We really can't let this happen, guys. Fanartists are one of the most vibrant, important, prominent groups in all our fandoms, and we have to support them and do our part to protect them.
As if those two points aren't enough, there's already growing evidence that AI-generated works are being used to further propagandists. There are false images circulating of violence at protests, deep-fakes of various kinds that are helping the worst elements of society to push their horrid agendas. As long as that's a facet of AI-generated works, they'll always be dangerous.
I could go on, but really this isn't the main point of my post and I don't want to get bogged down. Other people have said more eloquently than I why AI-generated images are bad. Read those. (I tried to find a good one to link but sadly failed; if anyone knows a good post, feel free to send it and I'll add the link to the post).
Basically: I think a legally trained AI-image generator that had built-in clear watermarks could be a fun toy for people who want reference images or just to play with making pseudo-art. But...that's not what we have, and what we do have is built on theft and supports dystopia so, uh. Yeah fuck AI-generated images.
How to recognize AI-Generated Images Made in an Eastern Danmei Art Style
NOTE: I LEARNED ALL THE BASIC ON SPOTTING AI-GENERATED IMAGES FROM THIS POST. I'll own I still kinda had the wool over my eyes until I read that post - I knew AI stuff was out there but I hadn't really looked closely enough to have my eyes open for specific signs. Reading that entire post taught me a lot, and what I learned is the foundation of this post.
This post shouldn't be treated as a universal guide. I'm specifically looking at the tells on the kind of art that people in danmei fandoms often see coming from Weibo and other Chinese, Japanese, and Korean platforms, works made by real artists. For example, the work of Foxking (狐狸大王a), kokirapsd, and Changyang (who is an official artist for MDZS, TGCF, and other danmei works). This work shares a smooth use of color, an aim toward a certain flavor of realism, an ethereal quality to the lighting, and many other features. (Disclaimer: I am not an artist. Putting things in arty terms is really not my forte. Sorry.)
So, that's what these AI-generated images are emulating. And on the surface, they look good! Like...
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...that's uncontestably a pretty picture (the white box is covering the "artist's" watermark.) And on a glance, it doesn't necessarily scream "AI generated"! But the devil is in the details, and the details are what this post is about. And that picture? Is definitely AI generated.
This post is based on 8 works I grabbed from a single person's account, all posted as their own work and watermarked as such. Some of the things that are giveaways only really show when looking at multiple pieces. I'm gonna start with those, and then I'll highlight some of the specifics I spotted that caused me to go from "suspicious" to "oh yeah no these are definitely not art."
Sign 1: all the images are the exact same size. I mean, to the pixel: 512 x 682 pixels (or 682 x 512, depending on landscape or portrait orientation). This makes zero sense. Why would an artist trim all their pieces to that size? It's not the ideal Tumblr display size (that's 500 x 750 pixels). If you check any actual artist's page and look at the full-size of several of their images, they'll all be different sizes as they trimmed, refined, and otherwise targeted around their original canvas size to get the results they wanted.
Sign 2: pixelated. At the shrunken size displayed on, say, a mobile Tumblr feed, the image looks fine, but even just opening the full size upload, the whole thing is pixelated. Now, this is probably the least useful sign; a lot of artists reduce the resolution/dpi/etc. on their uploaded works so that people don't steal them. But, taken in conjunction with everything else, it's definitely a sign.
Those are the two most obvious overall things - the things I didn't notice until I looked at all the uploads. The specifics are really what tells, though. Which leads to...
Sign 3: the overall work appears to have a very high degree of polish, as if it were made by an artist who really really knows what they're doing, but on inspection - sometimes even on really, REALLY cursory inspect - the details make zero sense and reflect the kinds of mistakes that a real artist would never make.
So, here's the image that I saw that "gave it away" to me, and caused me to re-examine the images that had first struck me as off but that I hadn't been able to immediately put my finger on the problem. I've circled some of the spots that are flagrant.
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Do you see yet? Yes? Awesome, you're getting it. No? Okay, let's go point by point, with close ups.
Sign 4: HANDS. Hands are currently AI's biggest weakness, though they've been getting better quickly and honestly that's terrifying. But whatever AI generated this picture clearly doesn't get hands yet, because that hand is truly an eldritch horror. Look at this thing:
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It has two palms. It has seven fingers. It's basically two hands overlaid over each other, except one of those hands only has four fingers and the other has three. Seeing this hand was how I went from "umm...maybe they're fake? Maybe they're not???" to "oh god why is ANYONE reblogging this when it's this obvious?" WATCH THE HANDS. (Go back up to that first one posted and look at the hand, you'll see. Or just look right below at this crop.) Here's some other hands:
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Sign 5: Hair and shadows. Once I started inspecting these images, the shadows of the hair on the face was one of the things that was most consistently fucked up across all the uploaded pictures. Take a look:
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There's shadows of tendrils on the forehead, but there's no corresponding hair that could possibly have made those shadows. Likewise there's a whole bunch of shadows on the cheeks. Where are those coming from? There's no possible source in the rest of the image. Here's some other hair with unrelated wonky shadows:
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Sign 6: Decorative motifs that are really just meaningless squiggles. Like, artists, especially those who make fanart, put actual thought into what the small motifs are on their works. Like, in TGCF, an artist will often use a butterfly motif or a flower petal motif to reflect things about the characters. An AI, though, can only approximate a pattern and it can't imbue those with meanings. So you end up with this:
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What is that? It's nothing, that's what. It's a bunch of squiggles. Here's some other meaningless squiggle motifs (and a more zoomed-in version of the one just above):
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Sign 7: closely related to meaningless squiggle motifs is motifs that DO look like something, but aren't followed through in any way that makes sense. For example, an outer garment where the motifs on the left and the right shoulder/chest are completely different, or a piece of cloth that's supposed to be all one piece but that that has different patterns on different sections of it. Both of these happen in the example piece, see?
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The first images on the top left is the left and right shoulder side by side. The right side has a scalloped edge; the left doesn't. Likewise, in the right top picture, you can see the two under-robe lapels; one has a gold decoration and the other doesn't. And then the third/bottom image shows three sections of the veil. One (on the left) has that kind of blue arcy decoration, which doesn't follow the folds of the cloth very well and looks weird and appears at one point to be OVER the hair instead of behind it. The second, on top of the bottom images, shows a similar motif, except now it's gold, and it looks more like a hair decoration than like part of the veil. The third is also part of the same veil but it has no decorations at all. Nothing about this makes any sense whatsoever. Why would any artist intentionally do it that way? Or, more specifically, why would any artist who has this apparent level of technical skill ever make a mistake like this?
They wouldn't.
Some more nonsensical patterns, bad mirrors, etc. (I often put left/right shoulders side by side so that it'd be clearer, sorry if it's weird):
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Sign 8: bizarre architecture, weird furniture, etc. Most of the images I'm examining for this post have only partial backgrounds, so it's hard to really focus on this, but it's something that the post I linked (this one) talks about a lot. So, like, an artist will put actual thought into how their construction works, but an AI won't because an AI can't. There's no background in my main example image, but take a look at this from another of my images:
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On a glance it's beautiful. On a few seconds actually staring it's just fucking bizarre. The part of the ceiling on the right appears to be domed maybe? But then there's a hard angle, then another. The windows on the right have lots of panes, but then the one on the middle-left is just a single panel, and the ones on the far left have a complete different pane model. Meanwhile, also on the left side at the middle, there's that dark gray...something...with an arch that mimics the background arches except it goes no where, connects to nothing, and has no apparent relationship to anything else going on architecturally. And, while the ceiling curves, the back wall is straight AND shows more arches in the background even though the ceiling looks to end. And yes, some of this is possible architecture, but taken as a whole, it's just gibberish. Why would anyone who paints THAT WELL paint a building to look like THAT? They wouldn't. It's nonsense. It's the art equivalent of word salad. When we look at a sentence and it's like "dog makes a rhythmical salad to betray on the frame time plot" it almost resembles something that might mean something but it's clearly nonsense. This background is that sentence, as art.
Sign 9: all kinds of little things that make zero sense. In the example image, I circled where a section of the hair goes BELOW the inner robe. That's not impossible but it just makes zero sense. As with many of these, it's the kind of thing that taken alone, I'd probably just think "well, that was A Choice," but combined with all the other weird things it stands out as another sign that something here is really, really off. Here's a collection of similar "wtf?" moments I spotted across the images I looked at (I'm worried I'm gonna hit the Tumblr image cap, hence throwing these all in one, lol.)
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You have to remember that an actual artist will do things for a reason. And we, as viewers, are so used to viewing art with that in mind that we often fill in reasons even when there aren't. Like, in the image just about this, I said, "what the heck are these flowers growing on?" And honestly, I COULD come up with explanations. But that doesn't mean it actually makes sense, and there's no REASON for it whatsoever. The theoretical same flowers are, in a different shot, growing unsupported! So...what gives??? The answer is nothing gives. Because these pieces are nothing. The AI has no reason, it's just tossing in random aesthetic pieces together in a mishmash, and the person who generated them is just re-generating and refining until they get something that looks "close enough" to what they wanted. It never was supposed to make sense, so of course it doesn't.
In conclusion...
After years of effort, artists have gotten across to most of fandom that reposts are bad, and helped us learn strategies for helping us recognize reposts, and given us an idea of what to do when we find one.
Fandom is just at the beginning of this process as it applies to AI-generated images. There's a LOT of education that has to be done - about why AI-generated images are bad (the unethical training using copyrighted images without permission is, imo, critical to understanding this), and about how to spot them, and then finally about what to do when you DO find them.
With reposts, we know "tell original artist, DCMA takedowns, etc." That's not the same with these AI-images. There's no original owner. There's no owner at all - in the US, at least, they literally cannot be copyrighted. Which is why I'm not even worrying about "credit" on this post - there's nothing stolen, cause there's nothing made. So what should you do?
Nothing. The answer is, just as the creator has essentially done nothing, you should also do nothing. Don't engage. Don't reblog. Don't commission the creator or buy their art prints. If they do it persistently and it bothers you, block them. If you see one you really like, and decide to reblog it, fine, go for it, but mark it clearly - put in the ACTUAL COMMENTS (not just in the tags!) that it's AI art, and that you thought it was pretty anyway. But honestly, it'd be better to not engage, especially since as this grows it's inevitable that some actual artists are going to start getting accused of posting AI-generated images by over-zealous people. Everyone who gets a shadow wrong isn't posting AI-generated images. A lot of these details are insanely difficult to get correct, and lots of even very skilled, accomplished artists, if you go over their work with a magnifying glass you're going to find at least some of these things, some weirdnesses that make no sense, some shadows that are off, some fingers that are just ugh (really, getting hands wrong is so relatable. hands are the fucking worst). It's not about "this is bad art/not art because the hand is wrong," it's specifically about the ways that it's wrong, the way a computer randomly throws pieces together versus how actual people make actual mistakes. It's all of the little signs taken as a whole to say "no one who could produce a piece that, on the surface, looks this nice, could possibly make THIS MANY small 'mistakes.'"
The absolute best thing you can do if you see AI-generated images being treated as real art is just nothing. Support actual artists you love, and don't spread the fakes.
Thanks for your time, everyone. Good luck avoiding AI-generated pieces in the future, please signal boost this, and feel free to get in touch if you think I can help you with anything related to this.
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christhopersturniolo · 3 months
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୨ HOCKEY PROBLEMS ୧
summary: you have been having some problems in your relationship with Chris, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t loves you.
notes: this is my first time writing a fanfic, I've always wanted to create one since 2020. english isn't my first language, it's probably not very detailed and there might be some mistakes, so don't expect too much lol. but give me feedback tho, l'd love to know what you think!
warnings: sexual assault, cussing, fluff, about three thousand words I think.
୨୧
My relationship with my boyfriend Chris is not the best. Well, at least, not now.
Lately we’ve been arguing all day long over stupid things, like who gets the last slice of pizza, or who gets the last word in a discussion. And it always ends in the same way. Silent treatment, from both sides. But it's not like Chris or I enjoy it. Most nights, I hear him in the bathroom, where he spend hours in tears. It’s horrible and makes me feel like a piece of shit. Hearing him cry only adds to my own feelings of guilt.
And how do we make things up? Sex, over and over. He would fuck the attitude out of me if he had to.
Me and Chris made a pinky promise that I would never miss any of his Hockey games. And I never did, cause i know how much my presence is important to him. And especially cause we are always in good terms the days before any of his games, but not today, we just argued again about nothing, we haven't talked for the past two days.
Nick and Matt, Chris's brothers, usually text me and offer to pick me up for Chris's games, but this time, their texts never came. It’s like they knew how our relationship was going. Chris definitely told them something.
Now you see myself driving to the arena where he plays in, the game is about to start in 20 minutes, and with this traffic, I don’t know if I will be there in time.
Red sign for the past 5 minutes. I have cars in front of me, behind me and next to me. Fuck. I start getting anxious. My nerves are on edge. I bit my nails subconsciously, the habit I got from my dad. My leg starts shaking. I can’t mess up things even more, I gotta be there, I have to be there.
After what feels like an eternity stuck in traffic, the car in front of me finally starts moving. I let out a sigh of relief as I find a parking spot. After that, I enter the venue where Chris plays (Which wasn’t that big, cause he plays in a small team in our city.)
Before taking a seat I scan the crowd anxiously, searching for any familiar faces, no one, I can’t find anyone, not even his two brothers. “Fuck it” I mumble to myself and I just get in a seat with some random people next to me.
The game is about to start, the crowd is already cheering. The players are drinking water and getting ready to get in the rink. My eyes examine each one of them, looking for Chris, number three. He was with a serious face. ‘Are he’s eyes red?’ I think to myself as I narrow my eyes, my vision is bad as shit, but I can tell he’s eyes are all puffy. He has some big dark circles underneath his pretty blue eyes, he looks fucking exhausted, It was evident that he was crying just now.
The players finally begin to take to the ice, their skates gliding across the surface as they prepare for the game to begin.
On Chris's team, there are six talented players, used to winning every single game. However, this time, they were against a really good team. Chris hated that team. I hated that team. Well, not really the team, but one of the players: Cam, Cameron.
Cam is a completely fucking jerk, in college he would always try to hit on me, but I’ve never really went with his face, what would get on his nerves, especially when I started dating Chris. It went to the point where he would force me to have intimate things with him. He was the worst human alive, and I would do anything to see him dead.
FLASHBACK
I just had PE, finding myself alone in the girls locker room as I change clothes. The sound of the front door opening echoed, followed by quiet footsteps creeping up behind me, sending shivers down my spine. I try to ignore it.
As I slipped my shirt back on, I felt two hands grip the sides of my hips, and a warm breath brushed against my neck. I freeze for two seconds. I know this is not Chris. Without thinking, I instinctively push the hands away and I turn around quickly, only to come face to face with Cameron.
I glare at him, my heart racing with a mix of fear and anger. His smirk widens as he takes a step closer, invading my personal space. "What's the rush, sweetheart?" He whispers, his voice dripping with arrogance.
I take a step back feeling the wall behind me getting closer "What are you even doing here? Get the fuck away from me, Cameron" I say firmly, trying to sound like i’m not scared, but the reality is that I’m pissing my pants.
He chuckles like he’s making fun of me, his eyes glinting with malice. "Or what? You'll tell your precious boyfriend Chris?" He teases, moving closer until I can feel his breath on my face. grabbing my waist and pinning them against the wall. "Come on, babe, you know you want it as much as I do.." he affirms, leaning in to kiss me, touching his lips on mines.
“Get the fuck away!” I whisper yell as i try to punch him away but he grabs my wrists. I struggle against his hold, but his grip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin, definitely leaving red marks.
I don’t know what to do. I can’t move. I start panicking. This is my end.
Tears blur my vision as I plead "Cameron, stop!" My voice trembles with fear as he kisses me, his lips rough and demanding against mine. Each kiss is a painful reminder of my vulnerability. Each kiss feels like a violation. I feel dirty, tainted by his touch everywhere in my body. A wave of nausea churns in the pit of my stomach as I try to move him away from me.
"Stop fucking fighting, you are not getting away from me" He murmurs against my lips "You deserve this, you want this.” I try to move as he keeps pinning me "You think I don’t see the eyes you give me when I walk by? Huh slut?" He scoffs, his hot breath against my face. "You were begging for this."
“I wasn’t begging for any of this. I never gave him any ‘eyes,’ he’s fucking delusional!” I think to myself, but my words remain trapped in my throat, suffocated.
As his lips travel down to my neck, leaving a trail of unwanted kisses, I can’t do anything more than start crying and screaming, kicking my legs and arms.
I never went back to those lockers again.
END OF THE FLASHBACK
I hated him so fucking much, and Chris did even more. And now, they are about to compete against each other.
The moment Chris stepped onto the rink, I could see his eyes looking for someone known on the crowd. Desperately, I raised my hand and waved, hoping he would spot me. And he did. His face automatically softened into a gentle smile, erasing some of the tension that had been weighing on me, but he was still with his tired eyes.
The game started with an intensity that matched the tension in the air. Both teams were determined to win. Cameron eyes were burning with rage. At this point, they weren’t competing as a team, it wasn’t about the game, it was about their personal life.
As the game progressed, the rivalry between them two escalated. They began to argue on the ice, each vying for control of the puck with increasing aggression.
Chris managing to gain possession of the puck and score two goals in less than five minutes. But Cam, folded by his own anger, refused to back down. Without thinking he charged towards him at full speed. Cameron swung his stick, causing Chris to trip and fall hard onto the ice.
“What the fuck is he doing?” I say out loud as I get up from my seat to get a better view. Chris remained on the ground for what felt like an eternity, clearly in pain. Every player on the ice stopped and looked around confused without knowing what to do, but not Cameron. He keeps going with the puck in direction to make a goal, with a visible smile on his lips. But then he notices how everyone really stopped and he slows down too, annoyed, not showing any regret.
The thing is, my boyfriend is in a fetal position on the ice, unable to move and no one is doing anything about it? That’s not happening, not with Chris. Without a second thought, I get up from my seat, whispering apologies to those I brushed past as I made my way to the rink. Ignoring the stares and comments from the crowd, I stepped onto the ice, my focus solely on reaching Chris. I get in the rink. I don’t give a shit about who’s watching me.
Kneeling beside Chris. His nose was bleeding, he looked pale and disoriented. Gently, I placed a hand on his shoulder, my voice trembling with concern. "Chris" I whisper, my voice shaking "Are you okay? Please look at me..” I beg in a desperate tone
Chris struggled to respond, his voice barely above a whisper as he fought through the pain "Y-Yeah.. I’m fine.." His eyes half-closed in discomfort.
Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps drew my attention, and I glanced up to see some of the players from both teams getting around us, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. Sensing the seriousness of the situation, a few of them hurried off to get help, while others stood by, unsure of what to do.
“Is he okay?” One of Chris's teammates asked as he knelt beside me, his voice filled with worry.
My anxiety spiked at the sight of Chris's condition, and I couldn't help but let my frustration show. "No, he’s not!" I replied, my voice unintentionally louder than intended. "Don’t you guys have nurses or some kind of medical staff here?!"
The teammate glanced back at me, his expression uncertain. "Yeah, I’m pretty sure they're on their way, don’t worry, he will be fine” He said sounding unsure.
I gently place Chris head on my lap, whispering sweet and calming words on his ear while we wait for someone help us. What I was saying was comforting me more than Chris.
Finally the arena's medical staff arrived, urging us to clear the area around Chris. They place him on a stretcher and wheeling him out of the rink. As they took Chris away, I followed closely behind them, my steps quickening to keep pace with their hurried movements. "Hey, excuse me," I called out to one of the workers, my voice tinged with desperation "Is it okay if I stay with him?" But they seemed way too focused on their task, ignoring me completely as they rushed Chris to a small emergency room they had here, leaving me behind on the hallway, my heart pounded with worry and frustration. But before I could even process what was happening, a familiar voice cut through the silence. I turn around,
Cameron.
"Look who it is" He says, his gaze fixated on me with an unsettling intensity. "Never thought I'd see you here, playing the concerned girlfriend” He chuckles.
My blood boiled at his words, the memories of his unwanted advances and aggressive behavior flooding back with nauseating clarity. "You're sick, Cameron." My voice trembling with rage “You can’t even stand losing a fucking game, you are insane.” I stay some seconds in silence before talking again "You better stay the hell away from me and Chris."
Cameron's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he reveled in my discomfort. "Or what?" He teases, taking a step closer "You gonna hit me? Huh?” He talks in a mocking way
I raised my hand and delivered a good slap on his left cheek, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. "I fucking hate you!" I yell, my voice trembling with rage as I glared at him with undisguised contempt.
Before Cameron could react, the sound of approaching footsteps coming in our attention, and I glanced up to see some of Chris's teammates rushing towards us, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion.
"What's going on here?" The same blonde guy with a four in his shirt asks, his voice tinged with urgency as he eyed Cameron with suspicion.
"Nothing," he muttered, attempting to regain his composure, "I was just.. checking on Chris. But the workers said we have to wait, and unfortunately, I've got somewhere else to be." Cameron lies, fuck he’s good at lying.
He gets closer to me, placing his hand on my shoulder, rubbing it gently. “I hope he gets better” He said in a fake nice tone, like he means it, I move his hand away from me, making him get slightly angry again, he leaves. I watch him go, feeling a sense of relief wash over me knowing that he was finally out of here.
Turning back to Chris's teammate, I say “Anyways..” I take a deep breath “I will just wait here until they say something”
The blonde one nods understanding. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan to me” He replies, his voice filled with sympathy “So, the game was canceled, and we got shit to do, so we can’t really wait here”
“Yeah sure, no problem, I understand” I respond, I try to sound so nice as he is sounding “I'll make sure Chris texts you guys after he leaves the room.”
Chris's teammate nodded appreciatively and they all began to leave to the same direction as Cameron. I sit into a chair next to the door where Chris was, my mind racing thinking about Chris.
Some good ten minutes after, one of the workers is leaving the room, I look up at him, catching his attention. “Excuse me,” I begin, my voice laced with anticipation “can I see Chris?”
He nods, offering a small smile. “Of course, go ahead” He replies kindly before disappearing down the hallway.
Before I enter the room, I take a few deep breaths to control my anxiety. Knocking gently on the door, I slowly open it. He was sitting in a long bench with elastic bandage on his ankle and wrist. Chris's eyes light up at the moment he sees me and a warm smile spreads across his face.
“Shit Chris, I just slapped Cameron in the face!” I say as I close the door behind me. Chris immediately starts laughing. his laugh is contagious. I sit down next to him. “You did not” He keeps laughing
“What’s so funny? I’m being serious” I chuckle, feeling the tension ease from my mind as Chris's laughter fills the room.
"I'm sorry, babe" he says between laughs "But when was that?”
“Literally like fifteen minutes ago! Gosh he’s so fucking annoying! And did you see the way he literally made you fall on purpose? I could break his face right now” I say in a dramatic tone, making him laugh even more.
“Anyways he doesn’t matter..” I look around thinking about what to say “So what did the nurses say?”
Chris's laughter subsides as he leans back against the bench, his expression growing more serious “Nothing much.. I just sprained my foot and my wrist, but nothing much”
“Nothing much?!” I say slightly shocked with his words.
Chris chuckles softly, shaking his head at my reaction. "Okay, maybe it's a bit more than 'nothing much,' but I'll survive" He says with a reassuring smile, though I can see the pain behind his eyes.
I gently reach his injured hand, my thumb tracing comforting circles on the back of his hand. "I'm just glad it's nothing too serious," I say softly, my voice filled with genuine concern. "But still, I can't believe Cameron did that to you! He's such a pussy!" My last sentence makes Chris laugh again.
As I watch him, a sense of relief washes over me, knowing that despite everything, we are still able to find humor in the situation.
Some minutes talking until the silence fills back the room. We are definitely both thinking about the argument we had days ago, cause we didn’t talked since.
“I.. I wasn’t expecting for you to watch the game today” Chris says slightly looking down.
I stay in silence for some seconds “Listen, Chris" I begin, my voice soft but determined "About the arguments we've been having lately.. I know things haven't been the best.. But..” I sigh “But I still care about you, and I always will.”
Chris looks up at me, his eyes softening with emotion as he listens to my words. "I care about you too" He says, his voice filled with sincerity. "I hate that we've been arguing so much, especially over stupid shit.. I just.. I don't want to lose you.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I reach out to gently cup his cheek. "You're not going to lose me, Chris." I assure him. My thumb brushing over his skin affectionately.
He gently buries his face on the crook of my neck, I lay my chin on the top of his head, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.
"I'm sorry for everything," Chris murmurs against my skin. "I don't want us to keep fighting like this."
Now I run my fingers through his hair, feeling a sense of peace settle over us. "I'm sorry too.." My voice sounding like a whisper. "Let's try to work through this together, okay?" He nods softly.
I kiss his head “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He answers quietly.
୨୧
hey, this is the end! i hope you have enjoyed it, if u saw any miss spelling or anything tell me in the comments, please.
also, i think it got kinda confusing cause i was using words on the past and in the present, but idk 😭😭
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galacticgraffiti · 8 months
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❁ Sugar (I've developed a taste for you) ❁
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!!! NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI !!!
Summary: Astarion asks for a favour and ends up getting more than what he bargained for (or: I'm a lesbian but this fictional little vampire twink can get it)
Rating: Explicit (for eventual smut) Wordcount: 2.4k Descriptors: I try to keep my reader-inserts fairly neutral, but let me know if anything slips through the cracks! Astarion is his usual self, pathetic and awful yet somehow also lovable as fuck. CW: bad flirting, friends with benefits (and the benefit is bloodsucking lol), blood, blood drinking, biting, hint of praise kink, eventual proper smut, nicknames, so much innuendo
✦⋆ Main Masterlist ⋆✦⋆ If you prefer AO3 ⋆✦
༻────• ༻❁༺ •────༺
Chapter 1: My my, those eyes like fire
He could be lovely if he wasn’t so self-involved.
That is the first thought you have when you meet Astarion. He is not downright mean, but something about him just bugs you. He flirts with every creature on two legs (sometimes even those with more), but that’s not it.
Something about all his honeyed words just feels so… insincere. 
You think Astarion has something to hide, and you desperately want to know what it is. So far, he has shown no signs of weakness, and he is as much as self-entitled twat as when you first met him. And this continues to be your opinion of him… up until today.
The day has been hard. Your feet hurt, your hands have blisters, and you are smeared with blood pretty much all over. Your shirt has been ripped and frankly, you don’t know when you might find the time to mend it. There is a giant bloodstain on the thigh of your trousers, and you are pretty sure your hair has become completely encrusted in blood quite some time ago.
But you have made it back to camp and that is all that counts.
As you shake out your bedroll and try to ignore the fact that this is the seventh night in a row that you’ll have had bland stew for dinner, you catch Astarion’s eyes across the fire.
His gaze is… odd.
You have seen him in the heat of battle, you’ve seen the glint in his eye when he comes up with another of his devious plans. You’ve even seen him amused, shaking with laughter when Gale recited an - admittedly very ambiguous - poem to you.
But you have never seen him like this. It’s not affection, nor is it desire that lights up his delicate features. He almost looks… desperate. Like he is starving for something, and you can’t place your finger on what it is.
As soon as Astarion notices that you have caught him, his eyes flick away. He saunters off, way too casual to not be obvious about it.
You stare after him, vaguely confused. But then, Karlach makes her way over to ask for more stew, and you forget all about it. For the moment.
Her smile makes your belly flutter, and you wish you knew more about her, and so you do your best to make conversation, joking and asking shallow questions.
Astarion’s eyes haunt you through dinner.
Even though the day was exhausting, the nights in your little camp are starting to grow on you. Gale is funny in his own, book-wormish way. You have learned that Karlach is downright hilarious in her joy about the world outside of Avernus, and Wyll is always scandalised by her, which is admittedly quite fun to watch. Lae’zel and Shadowheart keep to themselves a bit more, but even they share the meals with the rest of you.
You laugh when Karlach imitates Wyll’s horrified expression, but in spite of yourself. your eyes keep wandering to the silver hair of your elven companion who is sitting across from you.
Astarion is staring at you again, his eyes focused on some point below your jaw. He is watching you intently, seemingly unaware you have caught him. He doesn’t blink, doesn’t look away - he just stares at you as your spoon scrapes along the bottom of your bowl.
Only when you get up to wash off before you go to bed does he move again.
Sometimes, Astarion reminds you of a scared animal in the way he moves, his eyes flicking back and forth, his hands trembling slightly whenever he is not in battle. He hides right out in the open, behind his swagger and his dirty jokes and innuendos, behind his beautiful face and his beautiful body.
Tonight, though, even in all his desperation, Astarion is not prey. He is a predator. And like any talented predator, he has managed to get his prey away from the protection of the group.
You are kneeling in the small stream that runs by the camp, washing your bowl, your clothes, yourself - everything is dirty and soaked in mud, sweat and blood. You are barely wearing anything, but your companions have seen you in much more precarious situations at this point.
Astarion approaches quietly, sneaking up on you in that manner where you can never tell whether it is intentional or not. He is just… there, suddenly, shedding his clothes next to you, blood still smeared on his pale skin.
He stops short of the water, watching you from the riverbank. You try not to gawk as he undresses, but something about him seems unusually anxious. The way he pushes hit foot forward so slowly, testing the water, makes you wonder if he might not know how to swim.
Astarion smiles suddenly, taking a step into the stream and towards you, then another, his smile growing the deeper he wades into the water. Dark red streaks appear in the water where the blood is washed from his pale skin.
He clears his throat and raises a sharp brow.
“And how are you feeling tonight, sweet thing?” he inquires. His eyes flick over your body, focusing on a point below your ear for a moment before he rips his gaze away again.
“‘M alright,” you answer, brow furrowed as you scrub your shirt a little harder than you actually need to. Why he has to be so infuriating with his nicknames, you’ll never know. “Today was… a lot. I wanted to have a quiet moment.”
“Ah.”
He doesn’t seem to get the hint. He merely wades further into the stream, shimmering pearls of water running down his back. When you don’t say anything else, he turns to face you once again.
“Are you not going to ask me how I am, darling?”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” you mumble, throwing your shirt to the side, Clearly, you’re not getting anywhere with it tonight.
“Tsk, so rude. Somebody should really teach you some manners.” He clicks his tongue at you like you are an insubordinate child, shaking his head until droplets hit you.
You press your lips together. If he wasn’t so beautiful, he wouldn’t get away with half the things he does, and it frustrates you to no end. You catch yourself forgiving him on occasions where you don’t mean to, simply because his face is the prettiest things you have ever seen, and you hate it.
Astarion watches you carefully, gauging your mood. You stare back at him defiantly. What the hell could he want from you, anyway?
The hunger in his eyes is back, you notice - that desperation that you can’t quite place. There is a pained expression around his mouth, and despite all his cockiness, he is clearly not doing entirely well - his skin even paler than usual, his hands shaking a little when he crosses his arms.
Astarion yawns, his gaze raking over you in a way that makes you shiver. You tell yourself it’s just the cold of the water.
“Well, I was going to ask you for your help, but you are in a terrible mood.” He inspects his fingernails, and even though you know exactly that he is baiting you, you can’t help yourself.
“You? Need my help? Never thought the day would come.” Your voice is biting, but you can’t hide the note of curiosity that sneaks in.
“Don’t make me out to be such a horrible companion.” Astarion takes a step closer to you through the water. You take a step back. He laughs, but his eyes catch on your neck again. “I’m not that bad, am I?”
You shrug.
“Sometimes you are.”
“Hm.” He raises his brows, and takes another step towards you. This time, you don’t step back. “Well, I suppose that can’t be helped, my love. We all have good and bad days, don’t we?” He cocks his head. “And today has been quite hard for me.”
You make a non-committal noise, staring him down. What in the hells is he trying to do? Seduce you?
Your body likes that thought much more than your mind does.
Astarion is watching you intently. He stretches out his hand to take yours, and in your surprise, you don’t even pull back. His thumb rests right against the delicate inside of your wrist, and he closes his eyes.
You wait for him to drone on about how he carried your group on the battlefield, to gloat that you now owe him your life seven times over, but he doesn’t. Astarion stays eerily still, breathing deeply as his thumb strokes your wrist, pressing against your pulse point.
You can’t keep quiet any longer, not with the odd way he is behaving. Maybe he got hit by a spell, or…
“Any reason today was particularly hard for you?” You meant to sound sarcastic, but the question comes out sounding sincere. You scold yourself for caring so much.
Your skin burns like fire where he is touching you. Astarion’s eyes open, and he looks at you like he was a million miles away. He is so close now - much closer than you realised. You can see the fiery ring around his irises.
“I…” To your surprise, his voice is hesitant and quiet. “It’s easier to just… show you. You see, I need something from you, my darling.”
You frown.
“Why ask me? You could ask any of us, and most of them would be more inclined to help than I am. I’ve seen the way that Gale watches you at the fire-”
“Gale?” Astarion sounds genuinely amused. “Darling, do you think I’m asking you for sexual favours right now?”
“I- yes?” Your voice is full of uncertainty. “I mean… is that not what you were going to say?”
Astarion smiles, small and sharp.
“No.” He is even closer to you now, his thumb still caressing the skin of your wrist. “Even though I would not be disinclined if you offered… you are quite beautiful, you know?”
“Mh. Thank you?” You wish your heart would not beat faster at the way he looks at you. It’s a look that doesn’t fit the words that fall from his lips, a look that betrays the desperation with which he needs this favour. “What-”
“What I am asking for is simple.” He is so close now he could kiss you if you leaned in. “All I want is… a taste.”
“I- what?”
His lips are on your neck, his hand in your hair. You are not quite sure when that happened.
“Say yes, sweet thing,” he breathes. “Just a taste of your blood and-”
“My blood?” You sound more distraught than you actually feel. You are… oddly resigned. You should have seen this coming - you knew something was up with him, you knew he wasn’t telling you the whole truth.
And now, here you are. With a fucking vampire. His lips graze your pulse point, and your heart beats faster. You can feel the heat of his breath when he utters a single word.
“Please.”
It’s that one word that changes everything. Just like that, he has you. All the arrogance, all the superiority is gone from his voice, and what is left is just hunger and the fear that you might reject him. For a moment, you are sure you must have imagined it, but then, Astarion repeats himself.
“Please.” His hand tightens around your wrist, though he is trembling more than you are. “Just a taste, no more.”
Your lips are numb when you answer, your mind screaming at you not to let him- this is dangerous, this is stupid- you have already lost so much blood in the fight today and-
“Yes.” Your hands are on his shoulders, then in his silver hair. He smells so good; even after this horrid day. Your voice is softer than you intend for it to be, but his desperation makes you weak. “If you need it, it’s yours.”
Astarion makes a sound that shatters you, and before you can think too much about your own colossal stupidity, his fangs sink into your neck. 
It’s not painful.
It’s uncomfortable, but the fear that bites into your heart ebbs after mere seconds. Astarion’s hands are surprisingly warm against you, keeping you upright. Your head falls to the side, granting him easier access and - oh.
Why does it feel so good?
You become acutely aware of your blood flowing from the small puncture wounds in your neck, and for a moment, you panic, stiffening in Astarion’s arms.
“There, there, sweet thing.” His lips don’t raise an inch from your neck. “It’s alright, just trust me. Just a taste, all I want is a taste…”
Your head is swimming.
“You have tasted me,” you whisper, trying to pull away. When you look into Astarion’s eyes, there is a red glint in them - and a sadness that overwhelms you.
“No taste of you will ever be enough.” Astarion looks up at you from beneath long lashes. “You are divine, my love.”
The tip of his tongue wets his lips, licking up the small droplets of blood that linger.
You stare at him, trying with all your might to focus.
“You said… just a taste. No more than you need.”
His finger traces your jaw, down your neck, and your whole body is on fire.
“If it were up to me, I would need all of you,” Astarion sighs, his lips on your neck again, his tongue lapping at the blood that flows from the wound he has given you. “I would take and take, and give you so much in return. I would have you in ways you did not even know you wanted. Taste everything you have to offer.”
You shiver when he raises your wrist to his mouth, soft lips pressing to delicate skin.
“I would cherish you, keep you. My little pet, so perfect, so beautiful in every way. So eager to give what I need. Would you give me more if I asked?”
“Of course,” your lips say even though those were not the words you were planning to utter. But how could you ever say no to him? “If that’s what you need.”
Astarion’s sigh is one of rapture and delight.
“So obedient for me… You know, all these days I thought you hated me.” He chuckles to himself. “I suppose even I can be wrong sometimes.”
His teeth sink back into your neck, and the world goes dark.
༻────• ༻❁༺ •────༺
>> Next Chapter
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HELLO MY DOVES i finally found time to format this for tumblr so here you go, for those who are not in love with the bear, you can get the twink, as a treat.
@deewithani @ficsbynight @kote-wan @ariadnes-red-thread @rescuethewretched @twistedstitcher27 @kakashibabe02 @writingbylee @purgetrooperfox @basilbumble @witchklng @lackofhonor @ashotofspotchka @sailor-blossom @misogirl828 @amyroswell @darkjedipoptarts @pinkiemme @sleepingsun501 @fett-djarin @samanthacookieone @tortor-mcgee @corrabell @queen--kenobi @elegantduckturtle @felinaone @palpipeen @wild-karrde @obeydontstray @nomercyforthewarrior @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @thefact0rygirl @everythingyouwanted @equalityforcats @cagrame @ladykatakuri @snakerune @shadesofshatteredblue @100lxtters @damerondala @tachyon-girl @rintheemolion @pickleprickle @mando-amando @certified-anakinfucker @baba-fett @ulchabhangorm
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100percentdirtball · 1 year
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i started a gofundme with my partner today, to get us out of texas to a state that's more hospitable to trans women & disabled people. i sent a little tweet, to start sharing the link, and a couple people asked if i was sharing it on tumblr, and i said "i'm gonna make a longer post about it for tumblr!"
i've been trying to write that longer post all night. i just... i don't have it in me. i'm exhausted, and i'm terrified. i know the version of this post i should be writing is a little upbeat, and for the emails to my family & Facebook & insta & all that shit i'll be my best self.
here i feel like i can just tell you... y'all, i'm scared. the legislation is scary, but the people - people i know! i've lived in texas my whole life, i've got texan roots grown deep! - are scarier. i used to feel at home in austin. i used to say there wasn't a neighborhood i didn't feel like i belonged in, at least a little.
now, i get stared at at best, yelled at and followed at worst, every time i step outside my door.
i'm scared. i'm tired. and i'm so, so sad to have to leave my home.
please share this post. i'm not gonna lean on you to donate, i don't want you feeling guilty if you can't. lord knows it's hard these days. but please do help this message spread.
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raysrays · 3 months
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Crimson Guardian NSFW
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Kyojuro Rengoku x Wife! Reader
18+ MDNI!🚫
CW: NSFW Content, minor angst, controlling/manipulating behavior, fluff-ish.
Y/N POV
Scenario : You've recently married into the respected Rengoku family, and while you continue your work as a demon slayer, life starts to get a bit messy. Balancing your duties becomes a real challenge as you navigate the challenges of married life. You find yourself having to make tough choices just to keep your husband happy, all while debating to stay true to yourself and your calling as a demon slayer.
Marriage. Truly one of the most beautiful milestones a couple can achieve. Marrying Kyojuro has undoubtedly been my greatest accomplishment.
I still remember it vividly, as if it were yesterday. Surrounded by friends, family, and core members, we pledged our lives to each other. Though it wasn't the most glamorous wedding ever seen, it was enough. Because really, all I've ever wanted was Kyojuro, and now, finally, I have him.
For the first few months, our marriage was nothing short of perfect. I moved into the Rengoku estate with Kyojuro's family, assisting Shenjuro with chores and gradually trying to get closer to Shinjuro. Though I'm not sure how successful I was.
It was only six months in that I realized being a demon slayer and a wife wasn't as easy as I thought.
Before our relationship, I was Kyojuro's Tsuguko. He was simply my mentor, and I trained hard under him to get myself where I am today. It was later down the road that we noticed each other's lingering gazes, the occasional flirting, and all the other subtle hints of wanting to be more.
Kyojuro was strong, and I knew he wanted a family, but I simply wasn't ready to give up training and my duties as a demon slayer just yet.
Every day, after helping out around the estate, I would hike over to HQ and pick up where I had left off the previous day, training until the late hours of the night. I would often come home exhausted, which usually caused Kyojuro to worry. As much as I reassured him, he never seemed fully convinced.
Now, here I was, sitting at the dinner table with Kyo across from me. It was a rare occasion for us to eat alone together like this. We made small talk about our day and training, and then he finally stopped eating and put his silverware down.
"Little Flame, I think it’s time we have a serious discussion about the way things have been as of late,” his usual happy smile seemed almost nervous.
I set my spoon down on my plate, giving him my full attention.
“Yes? What is it?”
“Sunflower, you have been working so hard as of late, and it’s quite admirable. I truly admire your dedication to the demon slayer corps and your training!”
“But…?” I ask, confused.
“But… since our marriage, I’ve found myself in constant worry over you. Every time you go on a mission without me, I have to painfully wait for your return. Not knowing whether or not you'd be injured or even-“
“Dead?” I finish.
I saw his body tense up at the word.
“Yes, my love. Dead. I cannot even bear the thought of you never returning to me. It pains me to my core,” he seemed so sad, so worried about me.
I know Kyojuro, I know he didn’t mean anything bad by what he was saying. However, I felt almost offended. He too was a slayer, a hashira. I also had to deal with the fear of him returning with serious injuries or even never returning at all.
Did he believe me to be incapable of protecting myself? He was the very one who trained me. Even though I knew Kyojuro was strong, much stronger than me, it just felt like he lacked faith in me.
“You don’t think I’m strong enough anymore? Do you think marriage has made me soft?” I realized I might have come off a little too harsh, but my emotions were getting the best of me.
His expression seemed surprised, but I could tell. While he may not have used those words, that was definitely the gist of it.
I watched him get up from his place at the table and walk over to me. He pulled my chair out from under the table, then grabbed my hands and kneeled down in front of me.
His big, bright eyes were now staring up at me.
“You are one of the strongest people I know, my love. I know how capable you are, but please remember…”
He brought my hands to his lips, kissing them softly.
“You are my wife before you are a demon slayer. I cannot risk sending you off only for you to never return.”
I could practically hear the desperation and love in his voice.
Kyojuro wasn’t someone who would usually discourage anyone from pursuing something they're passionate about. So if he was now, I knew that it’s something he’s been internally battling with for a while.
“What about you? Is it not the same? What about my worry? What if you never come home to me?” I could feel my face start to heat up. Everything he was saying seemed to come from genuine care, but it felt so hypocritical.
“I am a Hashira, my little flame. I have a certain responsibility you do not have to burden yourself with. I shall retire soon, in just a few years. So please…”
There’s no way he’d ask me-
“Please retire your sword, Y/N. Please stay home for me. Please allow my heart to rest easy knowing you'll be here waiting for me whenever I shall return,” his voice was pleading.
I felt so conflicted. I’d worked so hard. All of these years of training to hopefully become a high-ranking swordsman myself. However, at the same time, I never stopped to consider my romantic life and how being married would affect things.
We both sat there in silence for a few moments, and I finally rose up from the chair, pulling him up off his knees along with me.
I looked up at him, reaching my hand up to rest on his cheek.
“Kyojuro, you are the only one I would retire my sword for. So please promise me, promise me you will always come home to me. Until the day you yourself retire.”
“I promise you, Sunflower. As long as I know you are safe and waiting for me, there is no demon that could ever keep me away.”
I felt his hand on my lower back and the other holding up my chin.
We both leaned in, our lips meeting in a tender kiss.
This kiss started so gently, so lovingly at first. As we pulled away for just a moment, staring into each other’s eyes, we realized how long it had been since we really enjoyed each other’s company.
After that, the kiss only grew hotter and more passionate.
Kyojuro swept me off my feet and carried me straight to our shared room at the back of the estate, the most private spot. It seemed fitting for newlyweds, after all.
As he gently laid me back on the soft futon, I couldn't help but stay focused on him. Kyojuro was simply beautiful. His hair, his eyes, his body, everything about him looked like he was perfectly sculpted.
My admiration was interrupted as I felt him begin to kiss me again. One of his hands traveling to my breasts, gently squeezing it.
The other massaging my thigh.
I feel him pull away from me starting to kiss on my neck traveling all the way down to my chest.
Kyojuro had always known my weak points and how to make me say yes to his every request. He knew my body just as well as I did, and now he was taking full advantage of that knowledge.
I could feel him pressing against me as he moved his hand down my body, lightly touching me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me, wanting more.
Then I heard, Kyojuro's soft voice whisper these words, almost as a demand. "Enjoy this little flame, you've kept me waiting far too long.”
As soon as those words left his lips, I felt myself begin to relax. His movements were so gentle, so careful, so loving.
His fingers trailed down my sides, sending chills through my body. His hands went back up and caressed my neck, making me tremble. He kissed me once more, and I melted into him.
It was as if he had cast a spell over me, and all I could do was obey him. He was completely in control of me.
After a moment, I felt him move back down and remove my underwear, revealing my already wet entrance. His hand slid between my thighs, and I couldn't help but let out a moan as his finger slipped inside me. He was gentle at first, just barely grazing me, but it felt incredible.
"Is this okay?" he asked softly, his breath hot against my ear.
I nodded but I could tell that wasn’t enough for him.
“Use your words my love.” He demanded sweetly.
“Yes Kyo, it’s perfect.” I said, my voice trembling.
He leaned down and kissed my lips before pulling back again, smiling at me.
"I want to be inside of you," he whispered, his voice filled with desire.
"Please," I begged.
He removed his fingers, replacing them with his cock, his tip rubbing against my clit.
"Good girl," he whispered, thrusting into me.
I threw back my head, arching my back and digging my nails into his shoulders. His movements were slow and deep at first and then they became faster and harder, and soon my whole body began to shake. I couldn't stop the moans from escaping my lips, and I couldn't help but beg for more.
When he starts to speed up I know we are both about to reach our limit.
I feel his fingers interlock with mine and his lips pressing against mine again, but this time, he wasn’t just kissing me, he was also letting his teeth graze my bottom lip.
He was biting down hard enough to draw blood.
We were both so close and we were both trying to hold back but we couldn’t anymore. We were finally going to let ourselves release.
I was the first one to let myself go, arching my back as I moaned his name.
Then he followed not too far behind.
After he finishes, we just lay there for a bit catching our breath.
“I love you, Y/N,” he finally breathed out, turning his head to look at me.
I turned to face him as well. “I love you, Kyojuro.”
After that, the two of us drifted off in each other's arms for the rest of the night.
The next morning when I awoke, I was still trapped wrapped in Kyojuro's arms.
After a bit of struggling, I managed to maneuver my way out and make it to the kitchen.
There I saw Senjuro, who was already preparing breakfast for everyone.
“Good morning, Sen,” I greeted with a yawn.
“Oh, good morning, Y/N!”
“I'm almost finished with breakfast. Is my brother awake yet?”
“He should be awake soon. We both have to see Master Kagaya today,” I said, rubbing my eyes.
He stopped to turn and look at me.
“Did something bad happen?” he asked nervously.
Poor Senjuro always assumes the absolute worst in every situation. Well, I suppose in this case it’s somewhat understandable.
“No, Sen, nothing's wrong. Kyojuro and I are just going to inform Master Kagaya of my retirement. That’s all.”
He gave a puzzled look.
“Retirement? Why? Haven’t you been training for years to improve your sword skills to move up in the ranks?” he asked.
He was right. I know I shouldn’t go back on my word to Kyojuro, but I really was having second thoughts about my decision.
Senjuro could probably sense my doubt because his next response was:
"If this is something that you're not sure of, then you shouldn't do it. If you have doubts about this decision, then maybe you're not ready for retirement just yet."
His words really struck a chord with me.
Maybe he was right.
Before I could ponder that any further, Kyojuro had made his way into the kitchen.
"Good morning! How are my two favorite people doing?" he said cheerfully.
I smiled.
"Morning, Kyo. Did you sleep well?"
"I did, actually. Thank you, little flame," he walked over to me, giving me a kiss.
I could feel my chest tightening, nervous about what was to come.
The whole time at breakfast, I felt so spaced out. All I could hear was Kyojuro and Senjuro talking and the occasional grunt from Shinjuro drinking away at the table.
“Sunflower? Are you okay?”
I was snapped out of my daze by Kyojuro waving a hand in front of my face. All three of them were staring at me, kind of concerned.
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”
I shook my head a little and looked down at my plate. I felt bad for Senjuro going through all that trouble to cook, but I simply couldn’t eat right now.
After we finished breakfast, Kyojuro and I headed out.
The thought that this would be the last time wearing my uniform with my sword by my side was so weird and almost uncomfortable to me.
I knew that this day would come eventually, but I always hoped in the back of my mind that Kyojuro would be the one to retire before me.
I had been so focused on training and my duties as a demon slayer that it had never even occurred to me how my marriage would affect everything.
I was now a wife. My first priority should be the estate, and helping Shinjuro while he was in his state of grief, and being there for Senjuro as well.
It wouldn’t be right of me to go against my husband's wishes either. Especially after the intimate moment we shared. Right?
As we made it to HQ waiting to speak with the master I felt my heartbeat racing inside of me.
The room was quiet, I could feel Kyojuro’s eyes lingering on me but I couldn’t bring myself to face him right now.
Both mine and Kyojuro’s attention was shifted as we heard the door open and Master Kagaya entered the room.
"Rengoku, Y/N. It's a pleasure to see you both," Kagaya said, his face as warm as ever.
"It's wonderful to see you too, Master," I replied.
"So what brings you two here? It seems urgent, judging by the fact that you came in so early."
"It is very urgent," Kyojuro began.
He then proceeded to explain our conversation from the night before, and how I was considering retiring.
"Y/N, this is a big decision, and it's important that you feel comfortable and confident in it. Do you think you can fully retire, knowing you won't be able to assist the demon slayers as you are now?" Kagaya asked.
I looked at the master and then glanced at Kyojuro. He seemed so proud and happy that we were here. I could feel the warmth radiating from him.
But, I could also sense the worry in his expression. He was nervous, scared almost.
I couldn't do that to him.
"Master, I've spent most of my life training for the opportunity to become a hashira. To serve the demon slayer corps and protect those who cannot protect themselves. But...I'm no longer just a demon slayer. I'm also a wife, and as such, I think it's only right that I focus on that," I answered.
The room fell silent for a moment.
"If you truly feel this is the right choice, then we support you, Y/N," Kagaya finally spoke.
"Thank you, Master," I bowed.
"Thank you so much, Master! I will never
forget your kindness!" Kyojuro bowed as well.
The two of us left the room and started to head out.
As we exited, we ran into a few of the other Hashira, who asked us about what we had gone to see Master Kagaya about.
They too seemed surprised and a little concerned when Kyojuro explained to them that I would be retiring so soon.
I could tell some of their reactions to the news annoyed Kyojuro. Shinobu used the word “controlling,” and you could see his smile almost falter.
"Controlling" was never a word I would have used to describe my husband. He just loves me, right? He wants to protect me. There's no way my sweet and kind Kyo would ever do anything to control or manipulate me.
Right?
Part Two
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