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#ill get back to it eventually but. ah.
catinflight · 25 days
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Drew silly friends as their silly pokemon they got taking those pokemon personality quizzes‼️‼️‼️🗣🗣🗣🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅
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Terri - @terriblyterri (SOOOO SLIPPERY SUZAN😨😨😱😱😱)
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Jellian HUMAN SONA⁉️ - @jelliannn (SoOOOOO STINKY🤯🤯🤯)
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The Ratking‼️‼️‼️ -ITSRAT!!!! (Little scrunched on discord,,,,, can't @ them because they don't have tumblr unfortunately😔😔😔😔 RIP...)
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thinking so so hard about LaughingStock and how that'd go down. disastrously, probably
#and ill talk about it at Length in the tags until tumblr cuts me off like a rowdy drunk after last call#please keep in mind this is all in my Brain and relationship dynamics etc are all technically speculation. anyway#so while franklydear is your more classic 'oh no im in love with him! / aw shucks im in love with him<3'#laughingstock is 'feelings what feelings / oh shit oh fuck this is bad'#to Me.#in my mind howdy is completely oblivious to his emotions#he's out here like 'gotta get the store impressively neat & shiny for barnaby! and everyone else' without blinking an eye#he starts assembling barnaby and wally's dogs slower an slower so that barnaby has to hang around a smidge longer than usual#he's out here giggling at barnaby's jokes while sweeping Hours or Days after the joke was told like a lovesick idiot#all while being like Ah Yes Barnaby My Dear Friend. My Platonic Buddy Whose Jokes I Laugh At A Little Too Hard. Platonically.#meanwhile barnaby Realizes his own feels. has a minor crisis. goes through the 12 stages of grief and absolutely panics#he's like 'ok just gotta play it cool. normal. dont be weird. he'll fall for your natural charm in no time'#'ill hold all of my feelings right here until i die or howdy reciprocates. i just cant tell anyone about this.'#'....hey wally you can keep a secret right'#and rizzes it up yk. rolls a nat 20 on charisma every time without howdy even realizing it. ig barns rolled for stealth too#and from barnabys pov its going great!#howdy is flirting back! hes showing all the signs! when eddie views their interactions he comes to barnaby later and is like A+ gay as fuck#so barnaby is a soft pining mess and howdy is Absurdly Oblivious despite being a clever & observant guy#so im imagining (will freely admit that this Train of Thought is slightly inspired by the latest chapter of Stamps by Indigopoptart)#that eventually barnaby is Confident in their budding relationship ok. hes ready to ask howdy out.#everyone who Knows (wally & eddie) are like Go For It He Clearly Loves You#and when barnaby tells howdy. howdys like 'ohhhh geez um im really flattered 🥺 but i dont feel the same 😔😭'#cue barnaby turning into the 'never again' meme while trying to laugh it off and pretend like he didnt just have his heart mr starked#so he goes home to smoke his pipe and cry and howdy goes about his day feeling Strange#why cant he stop thinking about that confession. what are these emotions. i mean its not as if hes in love with Ohhhhhh No. Oh No.#so howdy has his 'holy shit! im in love with barnaby! (lovestruck. swooning) ....Holy Shit I Rejected Barnaby (horrified. nauseous)' moment#cue howdy expecting barnaby to come by in the morning as per Routine so they can talk. he Doesnt. cue howdy stressing the fuck out over it#meanwhile wally sally (eddie sent her in his place. hes too busy) and barnaby are having a girls day (eating ice cream and watchin romcoms)#eventually barnaby hears that howdy has been Dropping The Ball and cant not check on him. cue emotional heart-2-heart outside the bodega#this is all very specific but its in my brain. these scenarious lull me to sleep every night lately
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toastsnaffler · 3 months
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not really relevant to anything but sometimes I just rly wish I had something core that made everything else feel real and worth it. ykwim
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osaemu · 10 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ FINDERS KEEPERS, LOSERS WEEPERS! ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: the user "gojoslittleslut" tries to make a move on your boyfriend, but she doesn't stand a chance
contents: fem!reader. it's not too serious, nobody gets angry/jealous (except the comments lol). if u haven't already read the other streamer!gojo works u probably should so u understand the dynamic between satoru and his commenters !
author's note: reader is actually a mature person who doesn't pick fights with random ppl on the internet and i think we should all be more like her ꨄ︎
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satoru leans back in his chair, idly chatting with people who pop up in his comments after he finishes his last round of the co-op game. his viewers are eager to chat, and some even shoot money satoru's way to draw his attention. whenever someone donates money, he gives them a quick shoutout and has a small back-and-forth with them, and he does that for everyone.
that is, until a user with a questionable username donates to his stream.
gojoslittleslut has donated $100.00!
gojoslittleslut: notice me pls
"shit, a hundred dollars?" satoru says, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. "thanks, gojoslittl— oh, fuck, what is that?"
you look up from your laptop and see the way your boyfriend's cheeks have gone bright red. satoru laughs a bit nervously, so you get up and walk over, making sure to stay out of sight of the camera. you sit on satoru's desk beside his computer and peer at his screen curiously.
gojoslittleslut: im ur number one fan~
satoru's eyes flicker to yours for a second before he looks back at his monitor. "ah, well, thanks for the donation!" he replies, completely ignoring the user's advances.
suguru-geto: he has a gf ...
gojoslittleslut: yeah
gojoslittleslut: me
you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle, scrunching up your nose at satoru to let him know that you really weren't taking it too seriously. after all, it's just some random person on the internet—they don't stand a chance with your boyfriend. 
satoru reaches over and takes your hand, twining his fingers with yours off-camera. he ignores the sudden burst of comments that litter the corner of his screen, instead watching you intently. in response, you roll your eyes playfully and blow him a kiss, snickering when satoru pretends to faint.
eventually, he turns back to his screen, cerulean eyes doing a quick once-over of his new comments.
toji-fushiguro: ill take his gf any day
inumaki: we know gtfo
gojoslittleslut: toji i get gojo and u take his girl. deal?
toji-fushiguro: bet
"alright guys, settle down," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "for the record, i still have a girlfriend and i don't plan on changing that anytime soon," he clarifies, addressing the current feud going on in his comments. 
satoru's a good streamer—he does his best to keep things cordial and lighthearted with his audience, but he also knows his limits. one of his limits involves people trying to separate you and him, his one true pairing (of course satoru's otp is his own relationship).
your boyfriend leans closer to the screen and scowls good-naturedly, holding up the hand still wrapped around yours. "this isn't gonna change, so don't even think about it!"
satoru says his goodbyes and then ends the stream, turning to you with a sigh. "how down bad do you have to be to name yourself 'gojo's little slut?'" he grumbles, clicking through his stream analytics and finding the user. he opens gojoslittleslut's profile and studies it for a moment before hovering his mouse over the block button.
he leans back in his chair and tilting his chin up at you. "she just gave me a hundred dollars, so i kinda feel bad about blocking her," satoru muses, tapping his foot on the floor. he looks up at where you still sit on his desk, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. "c'mere," he mumbles, slipping his hands around your waist and hoisting you into his lap with a soft grunt.
satoru rests his chin on your shoulder and nudges his face into your neck, breath tickling your skin. "you know that i'm all yours, right?"
"of course i do," you murmur, settling into his arms. he's warm and comfortable, like always. satoru smiles warmly and kisses the side of your face, letting his lips linger.
"good. 'cause no fan account's ever gonna change that."
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icarusredwings · 1 month
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Thinking about Logan getting really worried when Wade's (metaphorical) mask comes off and he's not the guy dancing on the bar, making boob jokes and kicking people in the face but rather the one with his face in the toilet at the club, promising he's okay while still struggling with the side effects that come with cancer.
"No no, really its fine! Go on, go have fun ill be out in a second!"
And being the emotionally closed off manly man that Logan is, doesn't press about it but still waits outside by the door, not letting people in the bathroom, ending up causing a bar fight because hed rather get punched in the jaw then let someone see Wade like that and embaress him.
Thinking about him coming home with groceries and finding him dead asleep on the couch, but the kind of sleep that looks like it was taken by force rather than comfy. The kind where you pass out because your body has had enough and just coming to check on him every couple of minutes before eventually sitting next to him and just waits until he wakes up.
Al can't see. But she's had a smug look on her face ever since Logan has walked in the door because she can hear him walking back and forth to go check on her room mate.
"You're really worried about him, ain't you?"
"What?"
"He's fine, you know. He does that. Go on. Go do what ever it was you angry men do."
But he doesn't go. He stays put. Like a loyal dog at his owners death bed, hoping if he stares enough, he'll get better. Eventually, he falls asleep too And Al is going to tease them both about this for the next month. She took photos to prove it.
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Soon enough, it evolves into him picking up tasks so that Wade can rest but refuses to tell him why. He doesn't want to embarrass him and make it feel like a big deal.
"Alright. Well, I'm gonna go walk mary puppins. You want anything from the bodega?"
"No.. actually.. could I walk her? I can take her. Being in this apartment is killing me."
"What need to get your steps in or something?"
"Something like that."
"Ah I get it. Wild cat needs to prowl. Well alright. But dont be taking our baby to any skanks house! Shes too innocent!"
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quiisquiliae · 1 year
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I have not drawn in literal years BUT LOOK HOW DOPE MY MYTHOSAUR CREST (top left) LOOKS Y'ALL!
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pretzel-box · 1 month
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I love you writing! Could you do something with jealous Sebastian?
A joke too much
words: 1,3k
status: non-proof read
tags: established relationship, sebastian is jealous, random nameless guy to fill in for the plot, comfort & bad diving suit jokes
sebastian might be a bit ooc but that's nothing new lol
Despite all the horrible things that had happened so far in the drastic depths of the Hadal Blackside, you were more certain than ever that hardships are easier to overcome with a group of co-workers—or, in this case, familiar victims of the expendable project that Urbanshade had set up to retrieve a simple crystal.
One of those people was a fellow inmate who shared a punishment similar to yours, which made it easier to bond over the shared misery. Their sarcastic way of lightening up every dark situation was a refreshing change of pace amid all the horrors and violence that usually surrounded your group.
"I would have worked harder on my bikini body if I knew I’d end up here," the fellow prisoner joked, gesturing to the basic diving suit Urbanshade had issued as minimal equipment. The ill-fitting suit clung awkwardly to his frame, adding a touch of absurdity to an otherwise grim situation.
"Ah yes, these diving suits definitely highlight all the right curves," you hummed back in amusement, trying to suppress a grin.
The lighthearted banter continued as you both navigated the dim, foreboding corridors. The small, wholesome moments of connection were a welcome reprieve from the relentless tension. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep the growing dread at bay, if only for a little while.
Eventually, you found yourselves standing before Sebastian's signature vent—a crude entrance that had become all too familiar. With a quick push, the piece of metal flew across the dark floor, clattering noisily. From the other side, Sebastian's disinterested voice echoed in the narrow passage.
"Welcome back, you... and you," he muttered, his tone flat as his ear fins twitched slightly, betraying his annoyance. His gaze flicked to the person next to you, clearly sizing them up. "Another day, another poor selection of team members, huh? Shame I don’t sell good ones either."
His joke, dripping with sarcasm, didn’t go unnoticed, but it didn’t have the desired effect either. You could see the faint lines of irritation on his face when he noticed your unimpressed expression. His usual wit seemed to fall flat in the current circumstances, and even he seemed to sense it.
"Really, Sebastian?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Your new companion stifled a chuckle, but you could tell they were a bit wary of the sea-serpent’s mood.
Sebastian sighed, leaning back slightly as if trying to shake off the tension. "What can I say? The company down here isn’t exactly what I’d call inspiring," he retorted, though there was a hint of resignation in his voice. He glanced between you and your new friend, his irritation giving way to something softer, almost like concern and you didn't missed the way his tail moved, showing how bothered he actually is without speaking it out loud.
“Seriously, who thought it was a good idea to send us down here with nothing but these glorified wetsuits?” Your team mate joked trying to get the comfortable atmosphere from earlier back by continuing his joke, shaking his head in disbelief. “If I knew I’d be stuck in a metal box at the bottom of the ocean, I might’ve packed something a little more comfortable.”
You chuckled, trying to ease the palpable tension. “At least you’re making it work,” you said, playfully nudging him with your foot.
Sebastian’s ear fins twitched at the sound of your laughter, and own claw-like fingers digged themself uncomfortably into his own palm. Without a care, he spoke, his voice carrying a sharp edge. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of laughing at this situation.”
Your friend raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on Sebastian’s mood. He pushed off the wall and took a step closer to you, a lighthearted smile still on his face. “Hey, we’re all just trying to make the best of it, right? No harm in keeping things a little less... bleak.”
Sebastian finally faced him directly, his eyes locking onto your friend with an intensity that made the room feel even smaller. “If you’re so focused on keeping things light, maybe you should find somewhere else to do it.”
The words were laced with a possessiveness that took both you and your friend by surprise. The room fell into a heavy silence as Sebastian’s gaze shifted to you, his expression unreadable. “Or is this how you’d rather spend your time?”
You swallowed hard, sensing the unspoken conflict. “Sebastian, we’re all stuck in this together. We don’t have to turn on each other.”
He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Stuck together, sure. But don’t pretend like this is just another day at the office. We’re not exactly a team, are we?”
Your friend cleared his throat awkwardly, realizing he was caught in the middle of something much deeper than he’d anticipated. “Look, maybe I should just... give you two some space,” he suggested, glancing between you and Sebastian.
Before you could respond, Sebastian stood up and slithered across the room, positioning himself between you and your friend, his tall frame blocking the view. “Yeah, maybe you should,” he said, his tone final, leaving no room for argument.
The air in the room was thick with tension as your friend hesitated, then gave a small nod. “Right. I’ll, uh, catch up with you later,” he mumbled before slipping out of the room by crawling back throug the vent behind him.
Once the two of you were alone, Sebastian didn’t move, standing with his back to you, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. You could feel the cold emanating from his body, but there was also something else—a vulnerability he rarely showed.
“Sebastian,” you started softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “What’s going on? Why are you acting like this?”
He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t turn around either. His voice was low when he finally spoke. “Because I’m tired of watching someone else take care of you when I’ve been the one keeping you alive all this time.”
His words hit you like a wave, and you suddenly understood the depth of his jealousy. It wasn’t just about the other guy—it was about everything you’d been through together, everything he’d done to protect you. He was scared of losing you, of not being enough and being replaced with someone you just met.
You stood up and stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, resting your head against his back. “I know, Sebastian. I know you’ve always been there for me. And I’m grateful for that. But you don’t have to do it alone.”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping as some of the tension drained from his body. Slowly, he turned in your arms, his cool hands resting on your shoulders as he looked down at you, his expression softening. “I just... I can’t lose you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
You reached up, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “You’re not going to lose me. I’m right here.”
Sebastian’s gaze searched yours, and after a moment, he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms and tail around you in a protective embrace. The coldness of his body was no longer unsettling; instead, it was a familiar comfort.
For a while, you just stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the room, the earlier tension dissolving into a peaceful silence. Finally, Sebastian pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his breath cool against your skin. “I didn’t mean to get so... possessive.”
You smiled gently, your hands resting on his chest. “It’s okay. Just... remember that we’re in this together. Both of us.“
Sebastian nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Thank you, Sweetheart."
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cordeliawhohung · 3 months
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In Limbo [Chapter 7]
mafia!141 masterlist | In Limbo masterlist | general masterlist | taglist | playlist mafia!Simon Riley x fem!Reader
another deal. another oath.
cw: illnesses and symptoms, PTSD, allusions to past non-con situations
wc: 4.4k
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Marco got you sick. 
Building pressure throbs between your eyes, ravaging your sinuses with tightly packed snot. It moves to your ears and throat until you’re constantly hacking up phlegm and the tinnitus in your ears is so bad you can hardly hear patrons over the idle chatter in the restaurant. Of course, there is no evidence to prove that Marco was the one to get you sick. There are countless people who flood through the door of Sapori with empty stomachs and noses running from the bitter, humid cold of London. Anyone could have gotten you sick. 
Yet, over the last week, no one has gotten as close to you as he did. Fingers digging into your arm. Leg pinning yours. Gentle hand — the hand of a killer, his hand, that brutal fucking hand — caressing the side of your face, holding you hostage. Taking and taking and taking, tongue shoving past your teeth —
Blurry eyes glance away from the assaulting brightness of your phone screen. Sapori is quiet; it always is this early. Early for late night dining, anyway. Half past ten, you’ve spent most of the morning cleaning every single corner of that building, but got dizzy after an hour, so you’ve taken refuge at a lonely table. The dust and carcinogens you’ve inhaled in the process hasn’t done anything to ease your symptoms, but you can’t afford to stay idle. There are numbers to be crunched, cash to be earned, and debts to be paid. 
Which brings you back to your phone. 
Having only graduated school without any sort of higher education, your options for jobs are limited, but only working at Sapori isn’t cutting it anymore. You can either pick up more hours like you have been this past week, or attempt to find a job that’ll pay slightly more and help cover the difference in what you now owe Marco every month. You’ve been staring at hourly wages for so long you feel your eyes begin to cross, and you don’t exactly like what you’re seeing. An early morning librarian job for £11.44, coffee shop barista for £12… nothing salary. Nothing that will save you. 
“Job hunting?” 
The ringing in your ears suffocates your senses so viciously that you didn’t hear Bruce’s footsteps approach, and you stare up at him like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Nothing like looking at other jobs with your boss staring over your shoulder. The screen goes black, and you choke out a sheepish smile through the snot leaking into the back of your throat. 
“Just for a second job. Part-time,” you explain. Your voice sounds louder than his, ears too clogged to properly receive soundwaves. “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving any time soon.”
Bruce’s mellifluous laugh is the first thing that’s warmed your soul all week. It’s contagious. The smallest of smiles flitters across your lips as he carefully takes the seat across from you, large bowl in either hand. 
“Ah, I would not be upset if you left. Sad, yes, but everyone finds their way out of here eventually,” Bruce assures. His accent is odd. Immigrating from Italy at a young age, his vernacular is a mash of proper English, Italian, and what you’re guessing is Italian-American slang. Or, at least, that’s what you’ve been able to gather from the movies, anyway. “You are a hard worker. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” 
A wave of tears build up behind your eyes at his words, and they’re held back by a flimsy, half-formed dam. Your emotions have been strewn about in your brain, cluttered, sticking halfway out of folders and filing cabinets. It’s hard to shove them back when you can hardly shut the drawers.
“Here,” he continues as he pushes the bowl toward you. The hard lines of his face soften as he watches you curiously peer at the contents; tiny bits of pasta mixed with some sort of thickened broth. “Pastina. Good for your health. You sound sick. Eat up and go home.” 
Your hand is hardly gripping the spoon when he says that, and it nearly slips out of your grasp. Mouth half open, you stare at Bruce with wide eyes. There’s not a single hint of maliciousness on his face — his eyes twinkle bright as he runs a hand over his balding head. Though he appears happy — almost proud of himself, even — you feel nothing of the sort. 
“I can’t go home,” you try to argue, but he quickly cuts you off with a wave of his hand. 
“You’re sick, and you’ve been working too much. You’ve worked more hours than I have this week, and I can’t allow that. Rest, before you really make yourself sick,” he dismisses. 
Swallowing thickly, you attempt fruitlessly to hide the tremor in your voice. “But I… need the money.” 
It’s all you can think about. Money. Numbers. This vicious counting game. How you’re going to cough up the extra cash for Marco and still have enough to feed yourself. To do anything. To live. Or worse — what happens to you if you can’t make enough? How many more times is he going to change your payments based on stupid mistakes that aren’t your fault? 
Waving your words off again, Bruce stands to his feet, hands pressing flat against the swell of his stomach as he does so, like the jovial chuckle he gives you needs support. “I’ll give you a raise, then.” 
Jarred, the side of your spoon taps against the edge of your bowl as you follow him with your eyes. “A raise?” 
“Twenty,” he replies. “Should be enough. I’m tired of you working so many hours. You need to go out and be a kid before you get old and useless like me. Pick up a hobby. Hang out with that guy Bee won’t stop talking about. He seems nice, hm? I just want you to be happy, kid. Now, eat up. You’ll feel better.” 
Bruce vanishes just as quickly as he appeared, leaving you alone with a bowl of pastina and your thoughts. It’s good that he did, because if you tried to thank him for such a gracious gesture, you’d certainly crumble. Perhaps he knew that, too. 
In a poor attempt to save yourself from crying in public, you quickly turn your attention to the food Bruce lovingly whipped up for you. Steam wafts and twirls upwards, hitting your face in a fine mist. Its flavor is difficult to discern with how congested you are, but the rich texture is enough to satiate the hole in your stomach. It always seems ever growing these days. A barren cavern; a void that wants to swallow you from the inside out. Not ravenous, just gutting. 
Maybe one day it will fill itself up again. 
For now, it grows. Slowly. Insidiously. Taking bits of you and shredding them into ribbons. They trail behind you, fluttering in the wind as you walk up the steps to your flat where they roll down the stairs. It would look beautiful, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was you. You, with quiescent feet trudging through the door. You, with the fatigued body that can hardly dress herself into pajamas. You, who curls into bed, a motherless child — a creature waiting to vanish. 
Too broke to afford cold medicine to aid you with your congestion, it takes time before you can finally fall asleep. When you do, it grips you like a vice, pinning you down, spoon feeding you dreams you haven’t been able to see with the hours you’ve been pulling at work. They’re heavy, holding your head under water, threatening to suffocate you; but you need the rest. 
You dream of your mother. She’s folding your school uniform in the laundromat you use as common ground to meet Marco at. Washers swish water in their drums as dryer alarms chime the end of their cycle in terrible cacophony. Pristine white blouses become ruined with burgundy — her hands are soiled; covered with blood. She folds, and you sit and watch her, hands tangled in string, fingers unable to move. Each fold is done with purpose. Crisp. Effortless. Blouses, skirts, and ties stack up taller than her on the table, threatening to scrape the ceiling above. 
“Throw them away,” you say, voice too weak.
She does not look at you. 
“They’re ruined. Throw them away,” you say. 
She does not look at you. 
“Did I ruin them?” she asks. 
You blink. The string around your fingers tightens. You feel them turn cold as ice. Lack of blood. Festering wounds. Irritated nail beds. An extension of the sins trapped inside of you.
“It wasn’t you,” you say. 
Finally, she looks at you, and you flinch. 
“Who was it?” 
Fibers snap, and the string falls free from your hands. Fluttering, dainty; it lays on the floor in generous spirals. There’s so much blood on her shirt. You can’t look away. 
“You already know,” you choke out. 
She smiles. A toothy grin. Teeth perfect and whole, lips curling, but it’s not real. Her eyes are cloudy — her eyes are dead. Her smile is dead. Your mother is dead. Cold skin, colder gaze, coagulated blood on linoleum. Rotting. You still smell it: stale blood, cologne, and mint. It follows you everywhere. 
He follows you everywhere.
Your phone is under your pillow when you receive a call. Vibrations rattle through the cotton filling, yanking you out of your dream like you’re being pulled out from under water. For a moment, you think you’re home. Really home. Yet, the room is too cold, and you are too alone. Blinking the sand from your eyes, you shove your hand between comforter and mattress and yank out your phone to be met with a flashing screen. 
Incoming Call from Captain Jack Sparrow
You hit accept and bring the speaker up to your ear. “Hello?” 
“Chip!” Row’s voice purrs on the other end. “What are you up to?” 
“Uh…” you pause as you turn to lay on your back, eyes blankly glued to the ceiling. You forgot to turn the heat back on when you got home, and you swear you can almost see your breath. “...relaxing…”
“That’s a first. Hey, I’m stuck at the club, and I’m bored. John wanted to have a quaint evening together but caught up with work stuff. Wanna get dinner or something?” she asks. 
You sniff, and the pressure behind your eyes nearly doubles. “I… don’t think I’m feeling up to that tonight, sorry.” 
“Oh wow,” Row gawks. Her voice drips with concern, and you hear shuffling on her end. “Are you sick? You sound very… congested.” 
“Yeah, I got sent home from work. Must’ve caught a bug from… somewhere.” 
Row says something in response, but you can’t hear it. There’s nothing but ringing as you force yourself to sit up and hack up snotty phlegm, trying not to choke on it as it comes up. Acidulous liquid coats your tongue, and you wince. Vile. Why can’t you ever have anything that tastes sweet? Something easier to stomach than an unwanted tongue or blood? 
“Chip?” 
Row’s voice brings you back to the present — back to your cold apartment with frigid sheets and your pounding headache. There’s no reason for your tears. Maybe it’s from your cold. Maybe it’s because you dreamed of your mom. Or maybe it’s just because you’re sad, and you have been for a while. You’re just not able to hold it back anymore. 
“Do you want to spend the night with John and I?” she finishes. 
Lips curling in, you try your best to hold back a sob. “Yeah… Yeah, that sounds nice.” 
“Lovely. Riley’s driving. We’ll be there soon, okay?” 
An attempt is made at making yourself look somewhat presentable, but it’s hard to make art when the canvas is crumbling. Nothing can cure you of the red irritation plaguing your scleras, nor the constant sniffing from congestion. You make do with fresh clothes and a washed face before shoving a few necessities in an overnight bag. Simple. Small. Something that won’t take up much space. 
When Row arrives, it’s a very unceremonious occasion. Gentle greetings. A pitiful look. There is no mention of how cold it is, or how the place looks sparsely lived in. She’s beautiful in her coat with pristine hair and flawless makeup. Perfect for a quaint dinner with a friend. You feel bad for being sick; she seemed thrilled to eat with you. 
Simon waits for both of you in front of the building in a sleek, black car that you’re surprised he can fit into. Terribly appropriate; something that would look perfect parked in front of John’s club, yet is now being used to transport you, a pathetic, ill woman, to her friend's house as if you’re nothing more than a child. 
It isn’t until you find your seat in the back that you realize just how long you were sleeping. Dusk pulls its cimmerian shadow over the sky, obscuring the streets in pale streetlights as Simon pulls into traffic. You’d gotten home around noon. Nearly a whole day wasted with sleep.
Little is said between the three of you as you struggle to stay conscious. The consistent, gentle hum of the car’s engine is better than any lullaby that you can recall. A siren’s song. A gentle hand on your back. Head bobbing and swaying with the turns of the road, you listen to whatever Simon has droning on the radio; some sort of rock station that plays so quietly you almost can’t hear it at all. Every now and then you catch his eyes in the rearview mirror glancing at you like you’ll vanish if he doesn’t keep watch over you. 
It seems he’s still taking Row’s request to heart.
As the car approaches the house, Row digs into her bag where she quickly shuffles through a small, periwinkle wallet. She fishes out some cash before handing it to Simon as he parks. 
“Here,” she whispers, though you can still hear her. “Get her some medicine, please.”
“Yes ma’am,” he mutters in reply. 
Before you know it, you’re tucked into a quiet guest room on the second floor of Row’s home. Heat radiates from the baseboards, yet your muscles tense and ache in a shiver. To combat this, Row has found every spare blanket and duvet she can find and tossed them on top of you like a heaping pile of laundry. At first, she had recommended throwing them in the dryer to help warm them up further, but you reject it. You hate making her go through any more effort than needed on your behalf. 
Still, she refuses to leave you as you curl into a ball, face pressed against her side as she sits on top of the covers next to you. Row always smells lovely. Fresh rosewater and lavender. You’re enveloped by her scent as she rubs a hand along your back, but it’s muted. The considerable amount of blankets only allows you to feel the ghost of her touch. 
“How long has this been going on?” she asks tenderly.
You shrug. “Day before yesterday, I think.” 
She pouts with a huff, hand ceasing movement as she silently chastises you. “And you were still trying to work?” 
“I have to,” you mumble against her. 
A terrible quiescence soaks the room. Everything hurts, and you want to rest, but you know that won’t come soon. Not with Row’s concern eating her alive — a vicious plague ripping through her heart. You can hear the beasts feasting on her marrow even now. 
“I’ve heard you and Riley have been getting close,” Row prompts like she’s about to spill the daily gossip. A change of subject. A way to ease you into what she really wants to talk about. “Visiting him at the club, then?” 
The club. Andrei. Spilled pasta in an alleyway. Marco stealing away more parts of you had made you forget about how you ended up in that mess in the first place. The blade of Andrei’s knife glints just as brightly in your mind as it did that night, and you cover your urge to puke with a well timed cough. You wish she wouldn’t bring it up, but it’s a good sign. It means Simon was true to his word. 
“Just to deliver food. He kept fixing stuff at my apartment. Had to pay him back,” you explain like a broken record. 
Lips stretch over ivory teeth as Row shifts next to you. “That so? Sounds like he likes you.” 
“Or maybe he’s just doing the job you assigned him,” you reply bluntly. 
Row doesn’t tense at your insinuation, but she does sigh as she settles back against the headboard. “Thought he was better at keeping secrets.” 
“I figured it out on my own,” you claim, stuffy voice unable to land the plosives of your consonants. 
She chuckles amicably as she looks down at you. Eyes closed, you’re nearly asleep, and you would have been if it weren’t for her conversation. 
“Well, you were always the smart one. Still, I won’t retract my statement. Riley’s had a lot of… partners but he never lingers around anyone like he does with you,” she insists. 
“Can’t entertain that,” you say. There’s a sour stoicness to your tone; too tired to be annoyed yet yearning for silence. “I’ve got work.” 
Another stillness — a suffocating one. Row’s smile has long vanished as her lips press together tartly. There you go, talking about work again. Like you can’t stand to do anything else. Like you’ll die without the money.
“Chip… you know that if you need help you can always ask, right?” she prods carefully. 
Help. You think of that word, and a sour cordolium rips through your chest. Asking for such a thing from someone is out of the question. You made that deal with yourself ages ago. Besides, you’ve been doing plenty well all on your own. 
“I don’t… I don’t need help, I just miss my mum,” you admit. 
You feel the moment when the room freezes. It’s when Row looks down at you, doleness unleashed in her gaze. Bringing up your late mother was a mistake, but she’s all you can think about after that dream. You wonder if you’ll ever have a normal dream of her again — fresh, normal, and void of all blood. A dream where she smiles and it’s not dead.
“I’m sorry,” is all Row can say. 
“Me too.” 
When Simon returns, you’re fast asleep. Row can hear the sound of his boots on the floor from a mile away; purposefully making his existence known as he opens the door to the only room with the light on. His eyes land on you, form curling into your friend like you’ll fall through the bed without her. He approaches the bed and holds out the bag for Row to take, and the very first thing she finds is every bit of cash she had given him to buy the products in the first place. 
Instead of chastising him, she rummages through the rest of the items; NyQuil, sudafed, Vicks, various soups and electrolyte drinks. It’s a variable feast to fight off your cold. Row looks up to poke fun at the man — at this raging chink in his armor — but she loses all words when she sees the way his hand presses against your forehead. He watches you with gentle devotion as your shoulders rise and fall with your breaths, congestion causing you to quietly snore. You do not stir awake, but she watches your brows furrow when he pulls away. 
“She’s got a bad fever,” he concludes quietly. “She looks exhausted. Dehydrated.”
“Yeah. She’s been overworking herself too much. Hasn’t been resting or healing like she should,” Row concurs. 
Fragile silence breaks as you breathe, airways too clogged for you to sleep peacefully. Simon and Row stare down at you for a moment, each of them considering the circumstance. Her lips press tightly together in thought before she carefully slides away from you, leaving your coiled form. She sets the bag of medicine and supplies on the foot of the bed before facing Simon with crossed arms. 
“Can I talk to you before you leave?” she requests. 
Simon answers her with a curt nod before they exit the room, lights off and door shut tight behind them. Row’s heart pounds away in her chest as it fights against the tightness of her ribs. It’s an ever constricting cage. Relentless. Vile. She ensures that she’s not facing Simon once they traverse down the stairs and make it to the landing on the bottom floor. 
“Chip is… really scaring me,” Row breathes, and she feels her voice crack nearly as bad as her heart. “I’m more than a little concerned or worried now she… she’s always been something of a workaholic, but this is different. It feels like she’s trying to run away from something and she’s just, I don’t know, keeping something buried inside of her. Pushing away any help anyone tries to offer her. I’m terrified she might hurt herself.” 
“Hurt herself?” Simon repeats in disbelief. “She done somethin’ like that before?” 
“No, not that I know of, it’s just…” 
The words die as Row’s lips press tightly together once again, and she finally forces herself to look at Simon. He’s nothing but a stone — this immovable being who won’t be swayed by anything physically or emotionally. She steadies her breath as she wills away the tears welling in her eyes. 
“I’m going to tell you this because I trust you,” she says, gaze attempting to harden. It’s a silent vow. A demand that he not repeat any of the words she’s about to speak.
“‘Course,” Simon nods. 
Row swallows the guilt in the back of her throat. 
“Chip’s parents are dead. They have been for a while. First it was her dad, and then her mom. My dad was the chief working the cases of their deaths. It wasn’t… from natural causes. She holds a lot of guilt and she gets in a bad headspace over it, and I think that’s a bit of what’s happening and… it’s worse than I’ve ever seen it before. And, I don’t know, maybe it just seems worse because she’s sick but… fuck, Simon, the way she talked about her mom just earlier, I swear to god I nearly cried.”
Crisp eyeliner marks the edges of her eyes, yet it smudges as Row banishes the tears from her vision. Still as ever, Simon watches carefully and without judgment as she gathers herself together in order to finish. 
“She needs to talk to someone about it but I don’t think she wants it to be me. There are many things I think she would tell me, but there’s no way she’d give me the whole story,” Row concludes. 
Confusion clouds Simon’s stern gaze, and he shifts on his feet. “What, you’re thinkin’ she’ll tell me and not you?” 
“Yes.” Her reply is speedy and sharp; a warning. No one knows you better than her. “She carries guilt for many things. Some things I know she won’t want to tell me.” 
Something is off — Simon can smell the stench of it from a mile away. He knows better than to question Row, as she seems very convinced that this is the true issue at hand, but there’s an uncomfortable trepidation that hangs somewhere in the balance of it all. A picture half developed. The brittle edge of a cliff. It’s the same feeling that afflicted him the night he fought Andrei in the alleyway — a deja vu that screams trouble if he even attempts to entertain it. 
“Please,” Row begs. “You don’t have to do anything crazy, I just don’t want her to be alone. Swear to me you won’t let her be alone.” 
Another deal. Another oath. Simon has always been a protector, in some way. A tool which one uses to bludgeon. He doesn’t know if he can be gentle. He knows he’s certainly not palatable. But he thinks of your sleeping form in the VIP room after the tussle with Andrei, and the heat of your fever against his hand, and he thinks he’d at least like to try. 
“I’ll see what I can do,” he assures her. 
Nodding, Row attempts to strengthen her resolve with a deep breath. Frayed nerves still poke out of her skin, completely wired with worry. It sparks and fizzles, yet she still glances back up the stairs, as if she can feel the aura of exhaustion seeping out of the bedroom. 
“Thank you,” she says, voice hardly a whisper as she looks back at him. “Truly, I appreciate it.” 
“Can’t do everythin’ on your own,” he says. 
She scoffs playfully. “Tell Chip that.” 
Once the front door locks shut behind Simon and the house is still and quiet, Row sneaks back upstairs. You’re hardly conscious when she gently urges you awake to press cough syrup to your lips, but you don’t complain. You never complain — not when there’s bitter liquid on your tongue; never when you should. Silent. Pliable. Once you’ve swallowed every last drop, you collapse back into bed, body weak and overheated; slick with sweat. 
She knows she should leave once your snoring starts back up again, but she can’t. There’s something to relish in how peaceful you are in this moment. Not working yourself to death. Not running from the grief that’s been strangling you since you were a child. For a moment, as you lay there in bed, Row gets to see you as you were when you were a kid. Quiet. Basking in the halcyon atmosphere that preceded the worst day of her life. 
Row recalls the movie you watched that night. How you giggled at the terrible graphics and corny writing. She remembers how your face squished against the cushions on the couch as you fell asleep. How her father covered both you and her with blankets before wishing you goodnight. You’ve grown so much since then. A fine woman who should be proud of herself. And she wants to shake you awake. Yank you out of sleep and scream at you that there’s nothing to be forgiven — nothing to punish yourself over. She doesn’t. 
Instead, she turns around and leaves, ensuring that the electrolyte drink Simon brought you is on the pillow next to you for when you wake up in the morning.
488 notes · View notes
feyascorner · 8 months
Note
Ok but what if tav is the hero of baldurs gate right, the god killer, slayer of the chosen three, savior of the emerald grove etc etc and after all that is told they had this incurable illness that the parasite had only slowed down. Now, with it gone, it’s progressing again and Tav can’t help but feel so stupid, weak even, that such a mighty hero could be struck by the weaknesses of their own body
Maybe pushes everyone away when they find out, too afraid to tell them that after everything they’ve been through after surviving all of that that they were going to die anyways
AND THEN ASTARIONS REACTION!!! Because surely he would not take that news sitting down (if he found out at all)
a/n. anon how did you know this type of prompt is exactly my cup of tea <33
It's not fair.
You did everything right. You saved the grove, the Tieflings, the Druids, the gnomes, the city, and even those who did not deserve saving, you always came to their aid. You've slayed gods, mind flayers, githyanki, even a bloody elder brain. And now, finally, after so long, with the brain having been defeated, and nothing but pure bliss occupying your headspace, you think you finally have time to relax.
Instead, you're reeled over the bathroom sink, eyes blurry from how much your body seems hellbent on making you miserable.
Ah, you remember. No matter what you've done for others, no matter what you've sacrificed, you're reduced to nothing but a sick patient. One that has no hope for a cure.
The months spent with little to do with your illness has left it to come back tenfold, and now all you can do is grovel on the bathroom floor, head in your hands as you understand that this is all you were meant to amount to. In the end, you were always destined to rot away by yourself and succumb to this gods forsaken disease. You are no hero. This is what you truly are---the pitiful remains of someone who longed for more.
The weeks following the defeat of the elder brain are filled with mournful streets for those who lost their lives and the joyous laughter of those who live on for them. Celebration--though it's difficult with half the taverns having collapsed in the battle--is not out of the ordinary. Strangers and friends alike come together every night, singing praises to whichever gods they worship. Your companions are no exception.
But each and every time, you deny their offers. You've become quite skilled at making up excuses about feeling tired, about having errands to run, or having loose ends to tie up. In reality, you're a coward. Despite the trust they put in you, you cannot provide it back--not in matters like this. Not when you've all been through so much, just for your own journey to amount to nothing.
It's not like you haven't known about this disease. You knew your death was imminent. But now, after experiencing just a fraction of what life has to offer, you no longer want to let go.
It's just not fair.
For what seems to be the millionth time this week, you hear someone knock at your door. Whichever one of your companions it is, you don't bother taking a step from your bed, face still planted into your sheets. You don't have the energy to move, and the useless healing herbs scattered across the room don't exactly hide your secret. So instead of standing, you bury your face deeper into your bed.
"You can't stay in there forever."
You flinch as you realize it's a voice you've dreaded hearing. One that invokes so much love yet fear as you remember that if you see him right now, it might be your last. And you don't want that. Not at all.
"I don't know what we've done to make you push us away like this," he says through the door, and your fist tightens in front of your chest. "But this is getting ridiculous, darling. You have to come out eventually."
You remain silent.
"Gods, just--" he stops, and you can hear the hesitance in his voice. You swear it almost cracks a little. "--Have I done something wrong?"
At this, you're suddenly on your feet, rushing to push yourself against the door, but unwilling to open in. "No, Astarion, you haven't done anything wrong. Don't you dare think that way."
You can hear him shift. "Then why do you avoid me? The others, I can understand, but me?...I mean, I thought we were more than that..."
"We are, it's just..."
"Just what?"
The final thread of your resolve snaps, and you reach toward your lock. Your hand falters for a moment, but you eventually open the door slowly. And if the way his face falls tells you anything, you must look absolutely dreadful.
"Oh, my sweet, what's happened to you?" he whispers, his eyes widening even more when he sees the mess of your home behind you. The clothes all over the floor, the blinds shut despite there being no sunlight to shield from, the healing potions and herbs messily tossed around...you'd feel ashamed if you weren't so tired already.
"...Are you sick?" he steps inside, taking his time to take in the state of what you call home. When you don't answer, he whips around to you, alarmed. "You're sick. Is it a cold? Flu?"
You shake your head, sick of having to lie to the one person you don't want to deceive. "It's a long story."
"I'm undead, darling. I have all the time in the world."
"It's not a very nice story."
"If I wanted a nice story, I'd be listening to a bard someplace else," he says, and you feel your eyes bubble with tears as he steps closer. "What's happened?"
The words spill out like vomit, and you're soon telling him what's been weighing on you for so long. You find yourself sliding down to the ground, and he goes with you, letting you grasp desperately at the sleeves of his shirt while you tell him everything. You can barely breathe with how fast your talking but you're afraid you won't say everything if you get any slower. The entire time, he just stares at you, his arms circled around you, and only when you're done does his gaze finally flicker.
"...Surely, there must be a cure." He's suddenly glancing around the entire room, at pieces of herbs. "Surely, at least one of these would--"
"None of them work, Astarion."
"Then we can find the finest healers in the city--we can even go back to that damn druid, and ask him."
"I've tried."
"Well, you haven't tried hard enough, obviously, if you haven't found a bloody cure!"
You give him one hard look--one with dark bags under your eyes and a weariness that stretches on for weeks--and his temper seems to cool. His shoulders slump, but he reaches for your hand, rubbing his thumb against your skin. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I just felt so weak," you whisper. "I didn't want you to think that too."
Immediately, his eyes harden, and he takes both sides of your face in his hands. "No. I don't think you're weak, and that's not going to change. You've proven yourself more than I can count, and I know you enough to know that you can't let it end like this, love. You can't leave like this."
"Astarion..."
He shakes his head. "I won't let this take you from me. There have been too many opportunities for us to lose each other, and we've overcome them all. We'll just do it again. We'll go to the most skilled healers in Faerun. We'll go to all of them if we have to, and we'll start tomorrow."
You can feel yourself tear up again, and he kisses your tears away while you sob in his arms.
"I'll save you," he mumbles against your temple. "Even if it's the last thing I do."
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maxislvt · 1 year
Text
Succubus Season
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pairing(s): succubus! wanda maximoff x reader, brief natasha romanoff x reader
summary: Just when your life starts to come together, life throws another curve ball at you. Except this time it isn't a bully or a shitty English teacher. This curve ball is seven feet tall with horns and a lot of pent-up sexual energy.
warnings: jealousy, possessive thoughts/behavior, AMAB!Reader, dom!Wanda, sub!Reader, anal sex, anal fingering, prostate milking, overstimulation, cum eating, size kink (she's 7 feet tall)
a/n: Idk this is a tad self indulgent but it's Fine because it's sexy
Event Masterlist
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Adulthood came with many struggles. You made it through high school, your poor budgeting habits, and you're currently pushing your way through medical school. It wasn't easy, but your determination and pride got you through it. Now you were one step further into adulthood by owning a house. No more roommates or weird landlords. Just your own space with no one else in it.
However, you hit an unexpected bump in the road.
Moving in seemed harder than doing all the paperwork. At first, you blamed it on how far you were moving. Some of your friends were kind enough to drive anywhere from 2 to 15 hours to help you move. It was possible they were tired and didn't consider how strenuous moving was. Then things got a little bit odd. You couldn't leave a room unattended for more than half an hour without someone getting some sort of freak injury. Luckily it was nothing worse than little cuts or bruises.
Oddly, fixing up the garage proved to be the hardest part. Bucky got sent to the hospital over a spider bite. Steve's asthma suddenly kicked up — though part of that was his fault considering everyone told him it'd be a bad idea to clean a dusty room without an inhaler. A lot of them had been overcome with mysterious illnesses and your team was getting smaller and smaller.
Eventually, it was down to just you and Tony.
All that was left to do was fix your janky garage door and the god-awful cabinets. It should've been a simple job. Replacing a few doors and fixing up some gears. Unfortunately, it turned out to be nearly impossible.
"God, this stupid fucking drill." You grumbled while trying to loosen the screws holding the cabinet door together. Tool malfunctions were another thing hindering your progress. One toolbox to fix the whole house wasn't entirely effective, but the finicky handles and rather disagreeable drill bits weren't making it any better. "Son of a bitch, these cabinet doors are hideous anyways!" After another failed attempt at removing the screw, you slam the tool on the countertop with a frustrated grunt. You slammed it a bit too hard against the counter because the sound shook the whole garage.
The old gears in your garage door creaked and shook before suddenly turning to drop the door.
"Tony, look out!" You shouted before running over to catch the door. The metal door slammed down hard on your shoulder blades. "Ah, shit!" You hissed out. It took all your strength to push the door back up. "Fuck, are you okay?" You asked Tony while rubbing your bruising shoulder blades.
Tony stared up at the garage door before getting up. He anxiously cleared his throat. "Well, if that doesn't open my eyes to my old age, I don't know what will." His shaky hands smooth out his shirt before grabbing his tools. "Yeah kid, I think I'm gonna call it a day after that." An unusually shaky sigh fell from his lips as he hugged you.
You looked up at the garage door. It needed to be fixed, but nothing physical was worth the life of a friend. "Um..yeah you do that. I'll just fix it my-"
"Don't do that," Tony interrupted, knowing your history with home repair.
A grimace overtook your features, but you knew Tony was right. "Okay, I won't fix it myself. I'll try and find some company to do it." You patted Tony on the back. He wasn’t the most tan friend you had, but you'd never seen him so pale before. "We should get you a drink before letting you head home."
With that, you were down to just yourself.
Your shoulders were in too much pain for you to keep working so you called it a day. Eight o'clock was a bit early for you, but you were much too shaky to do anything else. After a quick shower and some pain cream on your shoulder blades, you called it a day. Pain and warm water turned out to be the perfect combination for sleep.
"Release me…"
You shot up and immediately looked around the room. No one else was in your room. You weren't sure if it was real, but there were goosebumps on your skin and the hairs on your neck wouldn't lay down. As scary as it was, you decided you must've left the TV on up front and ignored it.
The next morning you're a bit jarred but ready to spend the weekend cleaning.
You looked around the garage to see what you had left to do. The garage door was off-limits and you were beyond frustrated with the cabinets in there. Just when you thought it'd be a simple work day, you noticed a hatch on the roof. Odd, you don't remember there being an attic on the room list when you bought the house.
You shrugged and jumped up to bring down the step ladder. The creaking underneath your feet meant it was time for the wood to be replaced, but you decided to prioritize exploration. Which turned out not to be the best idea.
"What the fuck!?" The words slipped out before you could even think. You looked around the attic. Chalk lines drawn out to make a magical symbol that you weren't even going to pretend you understood. There were more symbols carved into the wall. In the middle of it all, there was a small table. You weren't crazy enough to step towards it but you could see a jar filled with some mysterious liquid surrounded by other magical trinkets you didn't want to touch. "...Well, I guess that's what I get for buying a three-bedroom house for less than 100,000," You whispered as you climbed down the ladder.
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Now that you were terrified of your garage, you decided to focus on the less haunted part of your house.
It was a pain in the ass to move furniture and boxes by yourself, but better than a bunch of mysterious dead friends. After about a month or so, you were finally satisfied with the state of your house. The once barren walls were now filled with photographs and pairings. Long gone was the feeling of emptiness. It was your space now.
"Let me out, detka, please."
Oh, and the space of whatever freaky demon that was occupying that jar in your attic. Ignoring it was becoming harder. What started as the occasional whisper in your sleep turned into uncomfortably realistic wet dreams and a lot of ruined underwear. Now you could feel it hovering over you.
Tonight was the worst of it. Sensual kisses along the column of your neck pulled you in and out of sleep. Its hands were abnormally adventurous too. A less sleep-deprived version of yourself would've questioned the kisses on your neck, but your lack of sleep had left you a tiny bit delusional. One particular rough kiss finally woke you up properly.
The pain made you jolt up. "Fuck, you're having fun with this." You whisper despite the fact you're not sure it was listening. Your sleep shorts are stained with precum and you're painfully erect. A heavy sigh fell from your lips. "God, I hope you don't turn out to be some evil murder demon." The walk to your garage felt incredibly long. Each step added to the knot in your stomach. It was a miracle you didn't vomit by the time you stood underneath the hatch.
Your body moved as if it weren't your own. Awkward and clunky, but desperate to reach a goal you weren't too keen on. Once the ladder dropped back down your fate was sealed. You climbed up into the attic and stumbled towards the table.
For a moment just looked at the jar. Then you started laughing. "God, I am losing my mind. What is this stuff anyways, some disgusting old jam?" You scuffed with unwarranted confidence as you opened the jar.
It was not jam. Nor was it jelly or some other kind of preserve.
It was a seven-foot-tall demon. She had tinted red skin and two sets of horns sticking out of her head. You could see serrated teeth and an uncomfortably long tongue behind plum lips. You couldn't see them since they were above your head and you weren't going to risk looking away from it, but you could tell that it had claws.
The only thing keeping you from screaming your head off was not wanting to deal with a noise complaint in the morning.
"So um, can you put in on rent or are you just gonna bum out in my attic?"
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Wanda lived on Earth for thousands of years and never had she met a human more determined than you were. At first, she blamed your disinterest on her demonic form, but not even her human form could take your eyes off whatever project had taken up your time. Your focus was admirable, but Wanda was starting to get hungry.
So she decided to be more upfront about her needs.
Today, the only thing between her and a proper meal was a book. One you'd been reading for nearly an hour, but it was easier to take your attention away from that than it was from work.
Wanda laid down on your stomach and looked up at you with the softest, most desperate eyes she could muster. "I know this might come off as too much, but I'm really hungry...I just need a little something to get me through the day." Her eyes carefully watched your facial expression. Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips turned down.
"Oh, you must be starving."
Wanda was expecting a more sympathetic tone, but you said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
You quickly marked your page in the book and laid it down on the coffee table. "Wait right here, I'll make you something good." Part of you felt like one of those evil landlords on Reddit. You were making her pay rent but she didn't feel comfortable eating. "I have some snacks in the cabinets if you're really hungry. Help yourself to whatever."
Her fingers twitch. It's not what she wanted, but she found herself tempted. "It's fine, I can wait," She whispered. Succubi shouldn't get nervous. Wanda's hands reached out and held your waist. The benefit of being a succubus is that Wanda knows you won't deny her. Her fingers slipped underneath your shirt just to feel the softness of your skin. "What are you cooking?"
The question confused Wanda. She'd never cared about a human beyond a desire to feed off of them, but you were different. She was desperate to know more about you. Wanda wanted you in a way that she'd never wanted a human before. Thoughts of jealousy began stirring in her heart. As her fingertips explored the softness of your skin.
It didn't take long for that desire to evolve into something more deviant. Wanda found herself hating the physical space between you and her. She found herself disappointed she couldn't be inside you. As adorable as human fragility was, she couldn't stand the fact she couldn't be closer. Wanda needed to be under your skin and next to your still-beating heart. A hoodie could only make up for that half the time.
It wouldn't be much longer before she'd have to feed from you. Only you.
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It was embarrassing to admit as a succubus, but Wanda had officially gone multiple months without feeding from anyone. To rub salt in the wound, the one person she wanted to feed from seemingly had no issue sleeping around.
You were always talking up some girl and brought a new one home every other week. That was bad enough on its own, but you were always kind enough to make them breakfast or wash their clothes before sending them off. And once they were gone, you were right back by Wanda's side like nothing happened. Like you didn't just manage to play with the feelings of a succubus and send her into a jealous spiral.
Your latest adventure seemed to get under her skin like no one else before. This mysterious redhead had done quite a number on you. Dark red and purple bruises littered your neck and shoulders and you could barely stand upright. If you hadn't bashfully shooed her away, Wanda wouldn't have had a problem helping. Of course, your little fling was there to save the day.
"I didn't think you'd be able to walk after all that," The woman said with an amused tone. She sauntered up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist. Her chin rested on top of your head. "You sure you don't want me to finish those up for you? I'm a little worried you're gonna collapse on me."
You squirmed in Natasha's grasp as her fingers traced along the top of your waistband. "Y-yeah, it's fine Natasha. Just go watch TV or something…" The blush on your face is almost hot enough to cook the eggs. You don't even remember the last time someone made you this bashful. It was new. "I appreciate your offer though," You mumbled, unsure how to carry on the conversation.
"You're still shy even after last night?" Natasha asked teasingly. Her fingertips slipped into your boxers but didn't move much further past the waistband. She pushed her hips against your ass just enough for you to feel the pressure. "I think I like being right here, just like this." She whispered into your ear. Her eyes looked off to the side with a knowing smirk.
The whole scene made Wanda sick with jealousy. Her stomach churned every time you laughed at one of Natasha's jokes. Succubus couldn't throw up, but she. would've already. You were hers even if you didn't know it yet.
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You felt like you were going mad.
It was getting harder to suppress your attraction to Wanda. You wish you could blame it on her interest in human clothes or all the cuddling, but neither of those was the problem. It was all your perverted tendencies. Every time Wanda crossed your mind it was always something sexual. These thoughts weren't brief either. Once you started one of your sick little fantasies, it was hard to stop. You were washing 20 pairs of underwear a week with how much precum you were leaving.
Your growing relationship with the demon only made things more complicated. Wanda seemed to become more physically affectionate by the day. Her human form was cute but it was her natural form that seemed to be giving you the most trouble. The shock of meeting a demon for the first time had worn off and you began to notice the small details. If your dick would appreciate them as well.
The only thing it seemed to care about was how big Wanda was. Especially when she was using you as her body pillow. The softness of her breast pressed against your chest and it was driving you mad. You were so focused on not getting a boner that you completely drowned out the noise from the movie.
As fun as watching you squirm and wiggle, Wanda had waited long enough.
She sat up on your lap, straddling your hips with her thighs. Wanda's hand slipped underneath your shirt to keep you pinned to the couch. Her claws lightly scratched at the sensitive skin. "It's cute you think I can't tell how turned on you are right now." A satisfied chuckle escaped her lips as you sucked your breath. "Don't think I haven't heard all those nasty little thoughts in your heads."
Your eyes followed Wanda's fingers nervously. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me!" She toyed with the hem of your shorts. You were at a loss for words. It wasn't like you could deny your feelings with your dick hard as a rock. “I know we’re like roommates, but we don’t have to do anything!” Embarrassment wasn't good enough to describe how you were feeling. You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and disappear.
Wanda ripped off your shorts in one swift motion. “Oh detka, I want to be something more than just roommates.” Her long tongue licked the precum oozing from your neglected tip. It left a savory taste in her mouth that she couldn't help but enjoy. “God you don’t know how hard it was to live knowing you were wasting this stuff on girls who couldn’t make you feel half as good as I do.” Her free hand massaged your balls as she took your length inside her mouth. They weren’t as full as she would’ve liked them to be, but Wanda knew she would have access to them whenever she wanted them. Self-control was quickly flying out the window. Her hunger was starting to take over and she no longer had it in her to go slow for your sake. Wanda needed your cum and she needed a lot of it. “Do you know the best part of having sex with a succubus?”
The pleasure alone had your head spinning. “W-what?” It wasn’t a response to her question, but rather a moment of shock at Wanda’s confession. You weren’t well versed in the land of demons, but you didn’t think Wanda was anything like that. Was she gonna eat you? Maybe you should’ve asked more questions rather than worrying about her paying rent.
Her hand wrapped around your dick and began stroking slowly. She leaned forward to whisper in your ear. “I know exactly how to fuck you senseless.” Wanda hooked your legs over her shoulders. This time, Wanda's tongue went straight for your asshole. She watched your eyes roll to the back of your head with a satisfied smirk. No one's ever fucked you this way. It's almost impossible for her tongue fuck you the way she'd like but your whining makes up for it.
You're a mess. It felt like your insides were melting, but you were too overstimulated to even consider pushing back. You were usually the one on top and doing all the teasing. Now it was near impossible for you to speak without moaning and stumbling over your own words. "F-fuck, I'm close. Please don't stop, I'm gonna cum!" Your hands grabbed Wanda by her horns and pulled her closer to your ass.
Wanda hummed against you. You looked so cute when you were desperate to cum. She pushed your shirt up to your chest and signaled for you to hold it up. Of course, you do it without question. That mindless obedience would get you far. Wanda's tongue pressed down against your prostate. Milking you was a bit much for your first time doing anal, but Wanda wasn't going to hold back.
You couldn't even speak. It was just a string of desperate moans in place of words. The knot in your stomach bubbled up and snapped suddenly. Cum shot out of you in sticky, hot ropes. Your orgasm was almost never ending. Every time you thought it was over, she'd keep pushing you.
Wanda kept milking you until you'd gone soft. Her tongue slipped out of your hole. She wasted no time licking up the cum dripping down your chest and stomach. A deep, guttural moan escaped her lips at the taste of your cum. Her eyes glowed a deep red for a brief second. Wanda looked into your eyes and smirked. "I never want to see you with anyone else. Got it?"
You looked into her eyes and suddenly felt so tired. It was like a trance. There were a lot of questions going through your mind but you were too weak to ask any of them. "Got it." Was the only thing you could manage to say.
Wanda affectionately scratched your head. You were like a pet to her. "Let's get you cleaned up," She kissed your cheek before lifting you up and taking you to your bedroom.
You were grateful for her immense strength and gentleness. There was no way you'd be able to walk all the way to your room after that. You only vaguely heard Wanda's request that you not fall asleep while she prepared a bath for you. As tired as you were, there was something subconsciously urging you to stay awake as she requested. You rolled over slowly when Wanda returned from the bathroom. "Are you like…in my head forever now?" You asked sleepily.
Your question caught Wanda off guard. She didn't answer your question at first. Instead, she rolled you onto your stomach. It was only then that she had the answer to your question. "It appears so." She said calmly. Her fingers traced the tattoo now permanently etched into your skin. "Don't worry, I'll be kind to you..if you behave."
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mistydeyes · 1 year
Text
a sick day visit
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summary: You prided yourself on not getting sick. Even as a child, you bragged about your perfect attendance. However, the day has finally come and you’re in bed with a sore throat and swollen lymph nodes. Noting your absence, the 141 decides to pay you a visit.
pairing: 141 x pharmacist!Reader
if you want to read some other interactions with our lovely pharmacist -> pharmacist!reader tag
warnings: swearing, medical terminology/descriptions of illness
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Healthcare professionals never get sick. They just don't. That's why when you woke up with a sore throat, swollen and painful lymph nodes, and a headache, you silently cursed everything in the universe. The last few days you were more tired than usual but nothing out of the ordinary. You were supposed to report to the pharmacy at 07:00 hours but you knew you weren't going to make it there. You groggily grabbed your phone and made a few phone calls. Eventually, after an hour, you were able to get one of your civilian pharmacist colleagues to fill in for you. "Thanks, Dr. Stewart, I already notified security and the techs that you'll be coming in today," you hoarsely croaked out and hung up the phone.
Once everything was in order, you put a plain shirt and pants on and bundled yourself in a blanket. You knew that you should go visit the doctor to find out what was wrong. You brushed your teeth to have a semblance of normalcy but to put it politely, you looked like hell. Before you left, you made sure to find a medical mask, just in case whatever you had was contagious. You slipped on some shoes and exited your quarters to the medical wing.
As you walked, you ignored the bewildered looks of the soldiers as they passed. Some gave you a quick, "Good morning, Captain," and you weakly gave them a wave. Eventually, you could see Captain Price emerge from an adjoining hallway and he locked eyes with you. "Captain L/N, heard you were missing from the pharmacy today," he said and you moved to the side of the hallway to allow others to walk. "Hi John, just feeling under the weather, should be back tomorrow," you said softly. You could see the pity in his eyes as you used your elbow to cough. "Just let me know if you need anything, I'll personally have the 141 deliver anything," he said kindly and allowed you to continue to the doctor.
Despite being a pharmacist, you hated going to the doctor. Something about the sterility of the environment made you uneasy. "Ah Captain, funny seeing you here," the doctor commented as she entered. You smiled, she was one of your better friends in this department and you relaxed upon seeing her. "Definitely don't want to under these circumstances," you replied and she motioned for you to take off your mask so she could begin examining you. As soon as you opened your mouth, you could tell she knew what was wrong with you.
"What is it?" you asked and she dialed a number on the medical wing's phone. "Oh love, I think you have mononucleosis. I'm going to run some blood work and have a test done but it's pretty certain," she spoke and you were surprised. "Isn't that only spread through direct contact or saliva?" you asked. It was a silly question as mononucleosis was also known as the kissing disease but you wanted extra confirmation. "It can be or it can be spread by sharing utensils or drinks," she said and you internally facepalmed. You silently regretted going out for drinks with your techs and trying everyone's drinks. "It usually takes about 1-2 months to show symptoms," she continued, "there is no treatment, only rest, liquids, and paracetamol."
After two hours of waiting for your results with the phlebotomist, your doctor's suspicions were confirmed. "Sorry Captain," the phlebotomist said and sent you back to your room with a bottle of paracetamol and some Liquid IV. As you changed into pajamas, you made sure to notify your staff of your diagnosis and promised you'd be back at work as soon as your fever broke. Having nothing else to do, you settled back into bed and grabbed a book for the long days of recovery ahead.
You were almost finished with your book when you heard a knock on your door. "Coming," you called and put an Army sweatshirt on before opening it. At the door were four men who you immediately recognized as the 141. You almost laughed when you saw them all wearing matching balaclavas with a skeleton painted on them. Better safe than sorry, I guess. "What are you guys doing here?" you asked as you held the door partially open. "Heard our favorite pharmacist was sick so we brought you some things," Gaz smiled at you and you noticed a small bag of goodies in Soap's hands. "What you got anyways?" Soap asked as he handed you the bag. "Don't laugh but I have mono," you said and everyone took a step back. "I promise I'm not contagious but no kissing and sharing drinks for me for a little while," you joked and you could see everyone take a deep breath. You invited them inside your room to continue the conversation.
As they walked into your room they admired the decor. Unlike some other officers, the base was your permanent housing arrangement. You decided to make it as much of a home as possible. This included bringing in carpets for the cold tile floors, a bookshelf filled with pharmacy textbooks and novels in various languages, and other little trinkets. You even had a few pictures of your favorite people including your proud parents. You sat on the bed and the men cozied themselves on the carpet and your small loveseat. You allowed everyone a moment to settle as you could see them eye your decor. Everyone seemed to find something that peaked their interest. Simon studied your posters of famous art pieces, Gaz tried to figure out the locations of the postcards from your uni pharmacy friends, and Soap was intensely looking at the colorful pillows that adorned your bed. "Quite a setup you have here," Price commented as he thumbed through your Russian copy of Wuthering Heights. "Might as well make this place a home," you smiled and pulled a blanket around yourself.
"Do you know how you got it?" Ghost spoke up suddenly. "Well it might have been my fault but it was probably when I took my techs to a pub off-base," you sheepishly answered. "It was stupid but we all thought it would be a great idea to share drinks," you continued. "I thought it was the kissing disease," Gaz commented as you finished your story. You laughed lightly before responding. "That's one of the easiest ways to get it but anything with saliva contact spreads it," you began, "Plus there's no significant other I would have to worry about, Sergeant" Suspiciously, they all smiled and you couldn't understand why they were so invested in your love life.
"Anyways how have you been?" you asked and Price was the first one to speak up. "Back again for a while but we still miss your patient care in the pharmacy," he replied and everyone nodded their heads in response. "Your friend doesn't know what they're doin," Soap pitched in, "he just gives us our prescriptions without even a hello." Your smile faltered slightly, you were upset to hear this is how he treated your patients. "I'll be back soon, I promise," you responded. After a lull of silence, you yawned as today's events had tired you out. "You should open the bag," Ghost mentioned and you suddenly remembered the gift they put together.
You grabbed the small brown bag that sat next to you and poured its contents out on your duvet. Inside, they had put some snacks from the vending machine, bags of tea, and a crudely drawn picture of what looked like the members of the 141. "Oh thank you all," you gasped and went to pick up the drawing. "Why this though?" you asked and saw four figures carrying a comically sized pill bottle to what looked like you with a mask and blanket. "What I thought it was funny," Soap said defensively and you smiled. "I'll be sure to frame this one," you said before setting it back down. Despite being cold-hearted soldiers, they did some nice things sometimes. Eventually after some more light conversation, they could tell you needed some rest and saw themselves out. "Thanks again for stopping by," you called as they exited. "Anytime," Price said before he closed your room's door.
As they walked down the hall, you could hear their conversation through the thin wall. "You see that picture of them from uni?" you heard Gaz ask. "Ye the one next to the bookshelf, right?" Soap responded. "Didn't know that wearing a bathing suit with a pharmacy coat was part of the uniform," you heard Gaz say and your eyes shot to the aforementioned photo. You stood there, two other friends from pharmacy school, on the beaches of Cornwall only wearing a bathing suit and your white coat. Next time you invite someone over, you'll be sure to hide that photo.
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envy-of-the-apple · 5 months
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the jjk naga au is getting to me……..i fear im terminally ill with thoughts about it (seriously, top of the food chain is such a yummy series (?) and im soso obsessed with how you've written gojo’s and geto’s characters, i reread your works everyday, i just can't get enough! ^^)
and i hope you don't mind if i share a Thought i've had :3 (i was going for an mc who used to draw/sketch/make art just for this specific scenario)
Imagine that your time on the island's barely dragging on. There's only so many berries to pick and so many times you can braid Suguru’s hair into elaborate styles. You're bored, stranded on an island with these two naga captors and their (adorable) hatchlings.
Well, there's always playing with the hatchlings, or tussling with Satoru (he calls it playtime but you're far from amused when you get a faceful of sand when he tugs your legs out from under you) but you miss your alone time. That little bubble of yours. Ah, privacy. 
Like that'd happen, but you can dream.
It's a stroke of chance when Nobara comes to you with her new haul of human paraphernalia, all too excitedly. A leather satchel. Some printed photos of nameless faces with scenic backgrounds. A waterlogged cell phone, practically unsalvageable. A journal with pages so thoroughly soaked, it falls apart in wet clumps.
“What are these?” You can hear her rummage through the bag, her nose wrinkling slightly. “Smells weird.” And so you look over to see her glaring down at a (relatively new) set of oil paints, sealed away in the bag. It's likely that she picked up on the scent of the strange chemicals.
Your eyes are bright with hope as you gently pull it out of her hold. Ready to answer her million and one questions.
After all this time that you've thought of what you'd wished to be able to do, you're at a loss. You've got a wall to the cave to yourself, a set of oil paints and a makeshift brush from the wood of this one particular tree off the side of the island. The only thing you're missing right now is inspiration.
A muse.
Satoru and Suguru are snoozing. Peaceful and laid in each other's arms. you can appreciate the quiet to yourself.
You hear familiar shrieks and playful yells of the hatchlings' name. 
The slight bit of quiet, then.
Nobara and Yuji are wrestling in the water, arguing over something in a mix of clicks and curse words. The sight is an endearing one, but moving too quick.
So you do some searching inward.
And you paint what comes to mind. What you've felt this whole time.
“What's that?” Ever the curious one, Nobara rests her head on your shoulder to peer over at your artwork in progress. She doesn't understand any of it—and she wouldn't. Your human upbringing is leagues different from hers.
“... Home.” You murmur, and Nobara’s glancing up at you in wonder because of the way your eyes glisten, the way your hand lingers over to paint in a fine detail.
“Well, it was my home.” You smile back at her, and she's at ease. You're not sad—no, she'd make it everybody's problem if you were—and then she makes sure to know everything about the scene you've drawn.
“What's that?” She gestures. Careful not to smudge the paint off, index outstretched to a figure she doesn't recognise.
“That's a lamp. When it gets dark, we switch it on so there's light. Like the torches in the cave, you see?”
“Torch? Hmm… and that?”
It seems that talking about your old home brings a warmth to your voice. Nobara beams up at you all giddy as you explain, eager to learn more. Eventually Yuji slinks over to listen as well, more so to the sound of your voice than what you're saying.
You sound happy, the pair can tell. Like when you taste a berry sweeter than the others, or when you tell them stories of your own to lull them to sleep. They like the chime of joy in your voice, and neither stops you from rambling about your once-home. 
It's a moment of peace. and warmth.
Yet it shatters for you when you feel a strong muscled tail coil around your waist, that familiar sense of having your space invaded taking over. A very intrigued Satoru looms over you, eyes glinting as he takes in the sight. You know that something's off—he seems more punishing with how tight he holds you.
“Home, huh?” Satoru repeats, and even the hatchlings can tell that's their cue to leave. Nobara offers you a lingering glance, almost pouty before she slithers away, following after her brother.
The next early morning, you find your home gone. 
In a sense, it's a bitter joke to be played on you. Not only were you never going to be back at your own place, even the expression of the idea was taken away from you. Just like your freedom was. your choice. The wall of the cave was bare, not a hint of the paint or the sentiment lingering behind. As if someone hit a total reset. Paints nowhere to be found, your canvas scrubbed clean.
Suguru stretches out from behind you, one of the first few to wake up, wrapping you in a lazy hug, before he follows your gaze. You'd call the soft laugh that rumbles in his chest cruel. Mocking your homesickness in that loving way only he could manage.
“Must've rained last night.” He comments at the absence of your artwork, and you wish you could pinpoint at least an inch or sarcasm in his words. You nod quietly, and he draws you in closer.
Cold lips brush against your temple. 
“The only home you need is with us.”
The sand under your feet is drier than your throat.
(oh my god im sorry if i rambled too much, i hope its not annoying ^^;;)
jaw dropping. amazing. wHAT????
I love how anon made Nobara's characterization so much sweeter and innocent. Though it's probably cuz she's younger in this fic...considering she can still stay on land. And satosugu not even wanting you to THINK of your old home is so accurate. I feel the more they learn your language, the more eager they'll be to display ownership.
Anyway thx anon for making the fourth part! from now on if anyone wants an addition to the naga series turn to the anons not me.
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ruruvxz · 1 month
Text
“10:36”
Girlfriend!Kim Minji x Cheater!Reader
ft. Marsh Danielle
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↳ synopsis: L/N Y/N, named one of the sweetest girl in the planet finally rots her girlfriend’s heart. Any sane person would feel sad, maybe even a little regretful and accommodating for all their wrong doings. Not Y/N though, she's kept it in for a long time, her heart has gone bitter and cold, and she knows what she’s doing is wrong, but who can blame such a sweetly wretched heart.
↳ cw: cheating, commitment issues, morally gray reader, codependency, Minji is lovesick and blind, hurt no comfort, reader has implied chronic depression, victim blaming, swearing, pure angst
↳ word count: 4.6k
a/n: read this Karina fic where she kept cheating on me… which gave me an striking idea, mentally ill, unapologetic, rude and overall not a good person, Reader! anyways you don’t need to listen to 10:36 but I highly recommend listening to it since it’s such a great song. And yes I am personally beefing with Y/N even if I wrote them (fluff ver. apple cider)
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Your eyes looming to the TV, not paying attention to whatever was playing. I mean you couldn't concentrate due to your phone blowing up, notification after notification of all your failed hookups barking at your phone like a rabid pack of dogs. God, do people know when to shut up nowadays? It was aggravating how much they pleaded for closure, and who were they to demand that from you? You're the sweet innocent Y/N L/N after all.
Before you even got to text them back some bullshit excuse your eyes darted to the front from the sudden click. You carefully examined the door pushing it open at an agonizingly slow pace, sighing as your eyes met Minji's as she slid her way inside, her eyes bagging with how deeply exhausted she was. She meets your blank stare with a meek smile, pushing down any emotions built inside of you after your recent rendezvous with another lover, you put on your best fictitious grin.
"Baby!" You cheered, getting up from the leather couch, the same one Minji gifted you when you both first moved in with one another. Quickening your pace as you ran towards her, wrapping your arms around her neck, Minji was left letting out a coy smile before kissing your cheek. Usually, she would be greeted by another empty living room with the kitchen light dimly lighting the surrounding vicinity, it was depressing but she had a 9/5 and you took the night shift. (Or that's what you would tell her.)
Needless to say, seeing your bright smile was more than pleasant, her overworked eyes lightening up as you continued to hug her. "Ah, bug, you're still here?" She smiled hugging you tighter, grasping you almost as if you were to disappear at any moment in time. As you both stand in each other's embrace your mind couldn't help but let your mind drift to someone else.
"Fuck, I wish Danielle was here with me..."
You knew how terrible it was to imagine someone else's grasp, especially since you were imagining your girlfriend's best friend of all people... And to be frank, there was no other valid explanation for feeling this way. But you felt so devoid of any strong emotion, it truly made you feel disgusted with yourself but what could you do?
Minji softly grabbed a piece of your hair to stroke before you eventually led her over to the couch to spend some quality time with her. I mean, that's the least you could do after what you went off doing while she wasn't home.
Danielle messaged you late last night wondering if she could plan an outing for the next day, and you (not-so) hesitantly agreed to her offer. It was a terrible thing to do since you've already learned about her immature crush on you, but it wouldn't lead to anything, right? Nevertheless, you still decided to get lunch together, and she brought you to your favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurant. (Not exactly, in reality, it was something you despised because it was the only restaurant Minji would bring you time and time again. Danielle, and many others, were under the assumption it was somewhere you LOVED going to. And who could blame them, you would always post photos promoting the establishment whilst hiding out Minji from any photo.)
It was a fusion restaurant, but the overall atmosphere was an American-style family diner. The ones you'd see in 80's sitcoms that Minji begged you to watch with you, it was tacky, but they stayed engraved in your head. Danielle would drag you to the table nearest to the window to get the clearest view of the sky, but you'd much rather sit in the booth in the corner, hidden away from the world. Of course, of how accommodating Danielle was she gave in to your request, despite that hiccup the day "outing" continued as scheduled. Eating her meal she ordered claims that the burgers are "The best she's ever had since moving from Australia" but in reality, you think it's nothing special.
You ordered the same thing you usually do, carnitas tacos messily plated on a plastic dish, it usually tasted so bland though somehow sharing it with her tasted so much better than eating it with anyone else. You hated to admit it because you already had someone waiting for you at home but she made the world stop for a bit, made staying still for a moment seem so... bearable. For once in your pathetic existence you felt like you understood something and just wanted to sit down and talk.
"Mmm, Y/N—it's really good!" Danielle spoke up, parts of her burger decorated the corners of her face as she munched. Laughing at her childlike behavior you wipe the excess crumbs off her mouth, noticing her slight blush plaster across her face as you pull back to speak.
"Mhm?" You replied turned off your phone and flipped it over on the table giving her your full attention. Her voice was just too adorable to ignore. You knew you found yourself despicable for giving her more attention than you had given Minji for the past few months. But you couldn't stop yourself, it was so lonely and you just needed a warm body to hold, just until your girlfriend could come back to you.
She nodded her head hurriedly before shoving another fry into her mouth before she spoke once more. "Yup!! Look open your mouth" She'd pick up the fries and line it up up to your mouth, cautiously leaving your mouth agape before she shoved the fries into your mouth. It surprised you how fast she inserted it into your mouth you started aggressively coughing before she apologized profusely.
After your little outbreak, you start laughing uncontrollably at how concerned she looked, she whacked your head from the other side of the table while you continued to laugh. But you didn't have the heart to tell her that the fries she force-fed you tasted like generic McDonald's fries but, with that face, could you say anything? Danielle looked so captivating, an allure you hadn't felt in months, and before you knew it it was already 8:14. Minji comes back at 9 and you shouldn't risk coming home late AGAIN.
"Ah, I'm so sorry Dani, it's already so late, I need to be home at 9." You commented cutting her story off short about how she met up with a coworker of hers during some mindless shopping spree. She looked understanding but disappointed nevertheless as she was hoping she could spend more time with you even if it was in this cramped restaurant.
You looked into her eyes once more before getting up to take your leave, she looked stumped but quickly regained her composure as an idea flashed across her mind. "Okay! I'll drop you off at the train station then!" She stood up and let her hand out for you to grab. Once you stood up she interlocked your fingers together, your heart beating out of your chest as she did. What person would react like this to a friend, let alone someone who was in a relationship, but god were you one sick bastard to reason with yourself? You knew you'd done worse with others so why was this any different?
After minutes of slow walking and talking mindlessly with one another you finally arrived at the station, it was a tad disappointing but you knew it had to end soon. Climbing up the stairs your hands continued to lock in with one another, you felt her suddenly yank away. Turning back to see what happened you noticed one of her heels came off, but coincidentally your train just arrived.
"Oh Y/N go on, I'll get on the other one, it's just another 10 minutes!" She defensively said. Instead of listening to her you ran down the stairs and grabbed her heels, even if you were struggling a little bit to get back up you were happy to help her. You handed her back her heel as you heard the train plow through once more, the screeching metal tracks lingering as it drove off.
Danielle looked down at you as you handed her the heel with a worried face, she looked so bothered but you reassured her. "Even if the train leaves, it's worth it, it's worth waiting for you" You smiled before grabbing her hand once more and dragging her back up to the platform, the light-dark enough to cover her red face.
"Y/N" She laughed as she dropped her bag and hugged you tightly, her embrace was soft and loving you didn't want to leave it. (Nor do you deserve such an affectionate interaction.) You broke the hug before she led you to a, presumably empty, seating area, the sunlight dropping and sinking. While you sat there together Danielle was content sitting down with you in complete silence as it meant being by your side.
"I'm sorry for making you wait." She sighed awkwardly trying to break the silence you created, her body immediately straightened as you rested your head on her shoulder. Her breath hitched as you grabbed her warm hands, the nightfall being significantly colder.
"It's fine that we have to wait, I love you." You trailed off, your mind not proceeding with the bullshit you slurred out of your mouth. It was a force of habit, no matter if it was Danielle or Minji, those stupid strings of words haunted your every moment. (Maybe if you were a little cautious, if you learned to shut your mouth maybe you wouldn't have to be calling people at night while Minji was in deep sleep, explaining in slurred words "I have this thing where I— I can't be by myself— but look...")
The memory of what you accidentally slipped up to Danielle came back to haunt you, why would you ever say that, but regardless you couldn't break your facade now, not with Minji resting quietly on your lap. "How was your day love" You twirled her hair as she dozed off by your touch, she was so soft and delicate. It reminded you of how she'd do the same after a long day, her hands caressing your head like a dog. She was silent but that's who she was. As you ran your hand through her jet-black hair, you were all over he, losing yourself, all before she snapped you out of your daze to speak. "It was okay, but great now that you're with me." She smiled underneath you, she reached her hand above to your face to caress your mellow cheeks, and your heart ached as she did so.
"How was yours, my dear?" She lifted her head dragging you a bit down to intertwine your lips tenderly, as she pulled back and laid back down on your thighs you felt your teeth sink into your lips. It was a force of habit but thank god she hadn't noticed as her head was locked into the TV, you felt yourself about to throw up at the idea of telling her what you did. As usual, you tried to play off what happened this afternoon like nothing happened.
Your hands shook as you continued to play with her hair wondering what lies you would spit through your teeth. "Mmm, nothing much I hung out with some friends then went back home to wait for my wonderful girlfriend." You beamed smiling hopelessly to not break the persons you've created.
"Friends, who? I'd love to meet them." She chuckled, turning her head back to meet your gaze, your hands slowly lifting up and away from her head. You rested them on the armrest, coughing at the thought of her finding you were out and about with her best friends who she didn't even know you talked to.
"Just Dani! She's asked me if she wanted to get lunch with her." You answered honestly, if you hadn't you knew you'd just dig yourself a deeper hole and lead to another heated argument, where you'd end up running off to sleep the night somewhere else.
"Oh." She scoffed, the realization of her best friend and her girlfriend being closer than she'd expected hurt her feelings a little more than it originally should've.
"What's wrong with that." You bite back, annoyed about how sassy she was becoming day by day, as if you were doing something— someone, she wasn't aware of.
"It's just... didn't know you were close with her like that." She raised her body from my lap and sat properly looking me in the eye, clearly annoyed by the situation. (To be fair, as hard as you tried to be sneaky with your late-night affairs, by claiming you had a night shift, she picked up on your inconsistencies fairly quickly. How you'd leave either before she arrived or after she slept became more and more oddly suspicious. Or how you'd often slip your phone away to your back pocket whenever she came closer to you. It was all messing with her brain and the sudden "connection" you had with Danielle made her more and more suspicious.)
"I guess but isn't, Dani—Danielle one of your closest friends, yet you talk shit like this about her?" You retorted, trying to hide your offense terribly at her statement, of course, she didn't mean any harm with what she said but it felt as if she was insinuating something. Something you didn't like. You took off your gaze from hers as you rested your head on your palm and raised the volume of the TV to drown her out.
Rightfully annoyed at your reaction she raised her voice just a little bit. "Well sorry, I'm sorry I feel uncomfortable by the fact you chose to get lunch with my friend, instead of your girlfriend!" She rolled her eyes and folded her arms, her frustration was enough to cause global warming. You bite your tongue once more, you didn't want to say anything you regretted but you couldn't just let her take a jab at you without any conviction.
"I mean, she didn't do anything to you? Yet you're being so aggressive." You replied as you grabbed the remote with your free hand to skim through the channels, every new show being broadcast made you even more aggravated. How could there be nothing good showing? You mashed the next button again and again as you heard her open her mouth once more.
"That's not what I meant it's just, for the past few months you've cared about going out with me? Sorry for feeling like that's so terrible!" She scorned as you still didn't pay any attention to her, continuing to skim through the shows on air today. You pushed your tongue to the inside corner of your cheek before you asserted another retort.
"Maybe if you weren't always so defensive and angry I would hang out with you" You laugh sarcastically under your breath annoyed, and you finally landed on Law & Order. It was Minji's comfort show but you couldn't care less about what she liked right now, all you wanted her to do was pipe down and calm down. She clenched her jaw at how dismissive and disrespectful you were, the fact you weren't even looking at Minji added more salt to the wounds.
She grabbed your shoulder yanking you hard enough to look at her, you paid her one single glance before swatting her hand away from my shoulder. She looked dumbfounded, as for the first time in her life she finally raised her voice, this time with real intention to get off on you. "What the fuck— Y/N! What is up with you recently??"
Oh, she's testing you right now, your blood pressure has risen significantly and you felt it harder to focus on what they were saying in the show. Finally giving in you pushed your head to lock into her enraged state. "You know what's fucking 'up with me' it's your attitude? I can't even hang out with my friends anymore?"
Minji was most definitely fed up at this point as she stared back at you, clenching her fist, stopping her from saying something atrocious. "Oh no you DEFINITELY can, you know what you can't do? Fucking leave your girlfriend in the middle of the night saying you have a night shift and leave me alone in our bed!" She spat out as she stood up trying to get that notion into your thick skull.
"I'd rather be in someone else's embrace than be with yours! FUCK, you're so fucking suffocating!" You shouted back, quickly regretting what you said, realizing a little too late that you had released a bit more information than you were trying to let on. But before you could take it back and apologize she was already standing over you, her hands covering her mouth.
Minji’s jaw unclenched, processing every word that came out of your mouth. "What." Her voice sounded shaky, she tried her hardest to sound stern but you knew her long enough to know it was just a facade. Her face turned into someone who had just been told their loved one died, completely and utterly in disbelief.
It hurt seeing Minji so hurt, but it felt so good to get that out of your chest, she's been suffocating you for a year now, she should know where you’re coming from. Honestly, you hadn’t planned on staying for fairly long but after moving in with her it became harder to leave. "Fuck. It’s just—" You stopped before continuing “I wanna love you but I'm scared so I rather pretend”  You stood up and turned your body away from her, you didn't want to look at her at all. If you did, maybe you’d just run back by her side and then the cycle continues once more.
She covered her face between her palms, and looked up at the ceiling, just praying she'd wake up from this sick and twisted dream. "Y/N, please tell me. Are you?" She mumbled underneath her hands, but enough for me to tell what she said.
"Am I, what? Am I cheating on you?" You turned back at her with a disgusted face, not at her, but at yourself, you couldn’t fathom how you’d do something like this. After all, you experienced the same thing. You felt sick to your stomach but you knew she should already puzzle the answer together, yet she's still trying to ask.
"Just answer the fucking question" Her voice bubbling up with rage, after all the years of committing herself to you, you turn your back and do this? Oh how badly she wanted to make your life miserable after this. But a part of her didn't want to ask this question, she wanted, somehow, someway, you would turn a full 180 and tell her this was all some sick twisted joke.
“Fuck you Y/N… truly, fuck you— you kept me like a secret but I kept you like a fucking oath.” She spat out, grabbing out to you, the weight of your actions felt like a knife digging itself deeper into your heart. You were too cowardly to look at her, let alone answer her question. For someone so confident about cheating on her, you know stood in front of her unwilling to face the consequences.
"I—“ You cut yourself off, you did feel awful as you stared into her fiery gaze, but what was the point she already knew? "I’m so sorry.” You blurted out, it honestly came out as a statement then it did an apology, and by the looks of it, she looked even more infuriated.
"FUCK Y/N, PLEASE JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION!" She screamed at you, making you jump a little, but with your broken ego, you weren’t going to take that, with crossed arms you announced your wholehearted answer.
"Yeah, I did, and it wasn’t with Danielle. Don’t worry about her…" You bitterly bit back trying to get it in through to her, you were truly so despised at this moment, but to save face you preached some half-assed excuse.
"You know Minji, it isn’t my fault— You're selfish, how do you not get it. For as long as I remember you've only ever thought about yourself." You said, leaving Minji to stand in utter anguish at the shit you were spewing. How could she be the selfish one? You bit back your tongue before realizing this was probably the only moment to let out everything you’ve built up over your whole relationship.
"I reach for you and you’re not there, I'm so fucking numb but you don't care. A part of me feels for you, but it hurts, it hurts so much." Her stare etching deeper into your mind, she didn’t bite back, but you could see through her fuming portrayal that tears were pooling from her eyes.
"enlighten me, my dear, why am I still here? Why did you even— why did you even pick me? You don't talk to me, you never want to talk about anything and you’re always just with Hanni. I know you're confused and hurt, but when I needed a warm body to hold, you were never there. And when you where you wanted too much from me— I didn’t know how I could give you everything" You inched closer to her wiping the tears off her face, she placed her hand on top of yours. Maybe this was the only emotionally intimate time you both had in months. As you rested her hand on her plush cheeks, you took a moment to appreciate her beauty one last time, she was gorgeous, undoubtedly, gorgeous.
(You couldn’t admit to yourself that this reminded you about the first time you met, your eyes locked with hers as she stumbled out of another stress-inducing meeting. She looked so out of it so you graciously offered her your apple cider, under the pretense that it was apple juice. You examined her as you were a bit surprised a young girl like her was working this late into the night, it was already 10:36. You looked back at her while stopping to laugh loudly as her eyes winced while chugging down your drink. She looked so annoyed but somewhat happy she met you, her drowsy eyes lighting up as you offered to get her an actual drink at a nearby bar. You had a bad habit of analyzing her, her hair smelt like a sweet fruit punch, and her smile was so infectious.
You remember holding her face just like this as you led her back to her apartment, she looked dazed out of her mind as you pulled her on her leather couch to rest. In a drunken state, she commented on how she liked your hair and pulled you down into her lap to play with it. You couldn’t stop your face from heating up but she didn’t happen to notice, she looked down at you and complimented the jacket you wore. So after that you always wore it, and even at this exact moment, you were wearing that stupid jacket once more.)
"I didn’t— as much as I hate you right now maybe we just got lost in translation… no— maybe I asked for too much." She weakly smiled biting back her rage while staring deeply at you.
"I've done the math there's no solution, we'll never last, I’m so sorry Minji, there’s just no universe where I can see our happy ending." Minji closed her eyes, biting her lips, maybe she already lost you, or maybe she never had you in the beginning, but all she knew this would be your last moments holding each other. Your heart constantly aching throughout the whole ordeal, as she leaned her head closer to yours your lips slowly touched, having one last passionate kiss, until you broke it up. Minji looked at you with sorrowful yet entrancing eyes as she connected your foreheads, forcing you both to lie in the moment.
"in the morning you're not in my bed, I'll just sleep until I fall dead, my love" She joked weakly as you intertwined your lips together once more before letting out a deep sigh. "I guess this is where you get your stuff and leave, Y/N" She pathetically laughed and more tears streamed down her face.
"Yeah, don't worry I'll be gone by tomorrow..." You turned away taking a breather, before taking one last look at the living room that we had built together. The walls were decorated with inside jokes and pictures you took together, you inspected every one of them, knowing she’d probably throw them out later on in life. Your eyes landed on the coffee pot she gifted you on your anniversary, she built it during her pottery lessons to surprise you, it didn’t work so well, but it was cute. You sigh as you look at the pictures all from different occasions like when you celebrated your first Christmas with her, or when she met your parents, the memories of each decoration hitting you like a train.
"Where are you going to go?" She asked trying to figure out where you’ll run off to now, you laughed for a moment, before looking back at her. Her hands balling up as she awaited your answer, you cupped her face again and smiled at her question.
"Probably crash out with my ex-roommate if she still has a spare room somewhere."
"Oh, uhm…" She laughed elegantly and hugged you tightly not wanting to let you go. "I'll drop you off wherever— whenever you need to go, just please stay with me tonight. It's only…” She trailed off looking at the clock.
“10:36,” You both say in unison.
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guys count how much I referenced other songs… anyways back to writing fluff im literally started to tweak out
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yeontaescumslut · 2 months
Text
Elevator | Park Sunghoon ㅤ࣪𝑂𝟥:𝑂𝟥ᓯྀ ྐ𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ˖ ݁ 𓈒 ༒ ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡
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Pairing sunghoon¡xyou (fem reader)
Genre: non- idol au, smut
Synopsis Sunghoon is your campus crush before becoming best friends, but will getting trapped in an elevator change that all?
Warnings: smut, oral sex, head, name calling, degrading, public sex, fingering, biting, fingers in mouth.
WC: 278k
Maddy’s note: ANOTHER ONE! I really hope you guys like this one, I feel like it’s a bit more relatable and realistic, this is also dedicated to my best friend who ults sunghoon this is for u baby.
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You attend yeonsei university in the city of Seoul, South Korea. This was your first semester there abroad. You’re getting used to everything as its all so new to you, finding your way to your classes still, after about 3 months of attendance. In between looking for your classes and attending them you’ve always noticed this one boy who always seemed to be in your path or line of sight, he was tall, slender with wide shoulders, his hair black as coal, brown eyes deep like memory, kitten like teeth with sharp canines, beauty marks in just the right places. He was gorgeous and just that to you, he was majorly out of your league, you always admired him from afar never interacting with him, until one day.
You were headed to your last class of the day, your backpack on your back and your favorite book held between your arm and your side. You were occupied on your phone looking at the map of the university making sure you were going to the right building when all of the sudden you run head into something, dropping your phone and book, almost falling backwards when you feel an arm wrap around your back to catch your fall.
”Wooah there, you should really be more careful you could get hurt!”
You look up coming out of your confusion, seeing the one face you really hoped not to see, your face turning bright red, you cover your eyes with your hands. “Oh gosh i am so sorry” you scramble to get yourself together and stood back up. You lean down to pick up your book and phone when your hand makes contact with his, you pull away out of embarrassment “ah I’m sorry, i can get this it was my fault anyways” you say looking at the ground not wanting to make eye contact with him, this was already embarrassing as it is.
“Hey it’s alright, i got it, i was standing in the way anyways haha”
He reaches his hand out towards you, “‘Let me help you up, its the least i can do” his other hand rubbing the back of his neck, you hesitate but reach your hand out anyways taking his. He helps you up and makes sure you’re steady before bending back down to pick up your belongings. Handing them back to you he ask you “What had you so distracted if you dont mind me asking, it had to be important if you were that unaware hahah” your face turning ruby red once again because you know how dumb this is going to sound, you hesitate but eventually get the words out.
“I uh…was looking to make sure i was going to the right building for my class”
you show him your phone with the map pulled up on it.”oh! I’m actually headed to that class myself, ill walk you there if you’re okay with that.” His smile reaching ear to ear sharp canines peaking out from his plush top lip. After seeing his smile you feel a bit more at ease. You smile back at him “sure” and with that you two head to your shared class. You obviously knew you two shared this class because all you did was stare at him the entire lecture, admiring the curves and angles of his face. You didn’t want to let him know you knew this, you were thinking this could sound weird, but just as you start to overthink words slip off his tongue “ Oh! By the way, my name is Sunghoon! We share this class but I never got your name what is it?” Hes walking with his hands in his pockets looking over at you waiting on a response. “Me? My name is y/n” You hug your book tighter to your chest as sunghoon gets closer to you practically walking right at your side now. “I like that name, its pretty” as these words hit your ear drums you immediately get flustered squeezing the life out of this book you’re holding. “T-t-thank you” you manage to get the words out with a bit of a smile.
‘No problem, i think were gonna be good friends” he says this nudging your shoulder winking at you in the process.
You absolutely couldn’t believe this right now, the most beautiful boy in your eyes, your campus crush complimented you, AND wanted to be friends with you? Boy did you feel nervous and excited right now.
You both made it to your class, you walk in first looking behind you at sunghoon “well thank you for getting me here safely haha, maybe ill see you later?” He looks at you kind of confused tilting his head like a confused puppy. “What do you mean, I’m coming to sit with you silly” He laughs walking closer to you. Now that you really thought about it, he did always sit alone, no matter how many girls tried to persuade him he always sat alone…”oh, okay” you respond kind of in a confusing tone. “Dooo you not want me to?” “Oh! No i do! I was just confused that you wanted to sit with me, you just always sit alone.” “Well now i have you dont i” he smiles and says it with utmost confidence and takes a seat in the chairs, patting the one next to him motioning you to sit next to him and that you did, and you continued to sit next to him from now on.
You and sunghoon had been friends for a few weeks now, doing everything together, walking to classes together, eating lunch together etc. you were attached at the hip, a bonded pair if ypu will and everyone knew it. Everyone thought you two were dating but you were just friends…right? You had always acted like friends do, teasing each other, play fighting….but you knew you felt more for him than you led on. Your heart feeling like it was going to explode anytime he got close to you, your palms getting sweaty when he touched you, your ears getting red anytime he compliments you. All of these feelings overwhelming you as you lay in your dorm bed, when a chime from your phone breaks you out of your trance.
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You get down to the lobby of your dorm building (basically an apartment building) it was only you and the desk employee at this hour, and sunghoon waving at you from outside the glass doors. You smile at him, buzzing him in. He walks up to you in sunghoon fashion hands in pockets, crescent moon eyes canines on display. “There’s my y/n!!” He takes his hands from his pockets wrapping them around your waist, placing his head on yours. You blush into his tone chest. Still not used to this, what if’s running round your head. Do just friends hug like this, do just friends call each other pet names? Before you can continue overthinking sunghoon removes his arms from around your waist just to grab you by the hand.”lets go up, i need a snack, you have the best snacks” you nod at himn walking over to the elevator pressing the up arrow. The elevator dings, but the doors hesitate to open, you think to yourself that that’s a little weird but you brush it off as you and sunghoon enter the elevator.
As you and sunghoon enter, you press your floor number, the doors close, the elevator moves up maybe 2 floors before it comes to an abrupt hault, a screech is audible and if it couldn’t get any worse the lights shut off and the red emergency light comes on, as you frighten easy you immediately duck into sunghoons arms bringing your arms up to your chest. “Sunghoon I’m scared” “It’s alright, I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere okay? We’re safe.” He presses the emergency call button and gets in contact with the fire department, they let you both know it would be about 45 minuets to an hour before they could get to you both as they were on another call. Having some reassurance sunghoon feels a bit more at ease, he grabs you by the chin making you look up at him, he could see the fear in your eyes. His grip on your waist tightens “It’s going to be okay, i promise i would never let anything happen to you” you nod at him in assurance.
You both stare at each other for a moment, sunghoons eyes feel endless, his touch lingering, his stare changes from caring to almost lustful and you definitely notice. After a moment of tension he swallows hard “Can i please kiss you” this catches you but surprise but you needed him just as much as he needed you so you nod ”please do” and with that he lowers his head to plant his lips on yours, kissing you so passionately, his tongue fighting yours for entry into your mouth, craving you like a starved animal. His arm around your waist pulling you closer to him, the other moving from your chin to the back of your head, entangling his fingers in your locks. He backs you up against the elevator wall, his hand that was once tangled in your hair now placed on the wall behind you protecting your head. His kissses getting sloppier and wetter. Your hands placed on his toned chest, your tongue tangling with his, a feeling you’ve been craving for so long.
Sunghoon breaks from the kiss just for a moment “Fuck I’ve wanted to do that for so long” he doesn’t waist a breath getting right back to attaching his lips to yours his hand wrapped around your waist travels to the front, sliding his way up ypur torso, “can i?” You give him a reassuring nod, when he sees that his hand finds it way under your shirt and on your breast. His lips leaving yours trailing down your jawline to the nape of your neck, his soft lips leaving soft kisses, his teeth occasionally scraping the skin sending a shiver down your spine with each one, and making you wetter with each one. His lips find their way to your collar bones, leaving small love bites on them, his obsidian black bangs tickling your neck, sending overwhelming feelings to your core. You suck in a sharp breath with each touch of his lips to your skin. Making his way back up his lips find your ears nibbling on them softly while his thumb rubs circles around your nipple, making your knees close together, your hands roaming his body finding anything to hold onto. “Can i touch you princess?” He whispers in your ear, his hand sliding down from your breast to the waistline of your sweats (his sweats you stole a while ago” You let out a breathy moan as his breath hits your ear “yes…please” “mmm good girl” his fingers tease your waistband, slipping in a few fingers at a time, his pointer and middle find your panty covered clit, pressing down with his pale slender fingers. You shudder at the touch, your core so sensitive after craving his touch for so long. “More” you mutter out through breathy moans. He smirks at the request, you can feel it against your skin.
With your request, he slips his fingers into your black lace panties, sliding his fingers inbetween your folds dippping them at your entrance…he pulls his head back to look you in the eyes “oh you’re soaking wet, is that for me darling? You furrow your eyebrows looking up at him with starry glossed eyes “yes daddy” with a smirk on his face he dips his fingers into your entrance pushing them in as far as they’ll go. Your eyes roll back as a cry rips from your throat, his free hand quickly being placed over your mouth “shhh baby, someone may hear” he takes his hand off sliding his tumb across your bottom lip before slipping it in your mouth pressing down on your tongue. His fingers now pulsating inside of you, the tips of his fingers hitting your gspot making tears well in the corners of your eyes, just as the knot forms in your stomach informing your body you’re about to release, he slips his fingers out of you “ you think id only let you get off on this” he brings his fingers that were in your pussy to his mouth, popping them in and sucking all of you off of them “open” he grabs your chin with his other hand squeezing so your jaw falls open, he then slips those same fingers into your mouth “suck” you do as he says sucking your mixed slick and his saliva off of his fingers. “Goooood girl, get on your knees” you do as he says, as you do so hes palming at his hard cock through his plaid pajama pants, once you’re in position he undoes the 3 buttons holding in his 7.5 inches. When the last button comes undone his cock springs out, shock is apparent on your face yet the lust in your eyes is also apparent, licking your lip’s basically drooling.
He looks down at you, placing his hand on the back of your head guiding you towards his cock, your mouth opens on command, taking him in, placing your hands at the base of his cock stroking what wont fit in your mouth. Your eyes looking up at him as you get to work swirling your tongue around his tip teasing his slit with your tongue. Bobbing your head back and forth as he also thrusts his hips with the same motion, his free hand has your hair gathered in a ponytail. As you bob your head back and forth you allow your teeth to lightly scrape the rim of his head, making him jolt every time you do it. His grip on your hair getting tighter pulling it ever so slightly. “Fuck keep doing that, dont stop” his head thrown back in pleasure hes using the elevator wall as support as hes letting himself go in your mouth. “You’re such a good little slut” the name calling making your pussy throb and drip. Sunghoon starts getting impatient, hes got your head under his control now, holding your chin with one hand holding your head still, your hair being pulled with the other “dont move” he thrusts his hips into your face his cock prodding at the back of your throat, moans rolling off of his tongue, your name ripping from his throat as his cock bruises yours. “You’re mine y/n, you’re not going anywhere do you hear me” hes relentlessly throat ducking you, using you as his personal flesh light. This making your core throb, you reach a hand down to play with yourself as you can’t take this torture, your fingers thrusting in and out of yourself your pussy soaking wet, the faster he goes the faster you go, his movements getting messier, his eyes shutting tighter stars dancing across his vision, the knot building in your stomach again. “Fuck I’m gonna cum, your mouth feels so good” the noises he’s making is sinful, moans ripping from your throat, tears decorating your beautiful face as you reach your high, just when you climax you feel sunghoons hips bucking and then his warm seed paints the back of your throat white, grunts rolling off his tongue as he pulls his cock out of your mouth, his mouth hung open, his sweat drenched bangs sticking to his forehead, you look up at him with a tear decorated face and swollen lips, swallowing and sticking your tongue out to show him. “That’s a good girl, didn’t spill a single drop” his thumb rubbing across your swollen lips, he looks down at your legs “what happened there princess” you say nothing and remove your fingers from your cunt moving back to show him the mess you made (a puddle on the elevator floor) he bites his lip at the sight “Fuck that’s sexy” he grabs you by the chin, leaning down to your level, placing a kiss on your lips “let me make that mess next time okay, you’re mine now” he plants a kiss on your nose.
after you both get yourselves situated, luckily sunghoon was wearing a zip up jacket, he cleaned up the mess you had made and sure enough as soon as he finishes the elevator doors open to a group of firefighters asking if you both were okay. You both glance at eacother trying not to laugh and tell them you were fine.
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Thank you so much again for reading! It means so much to me! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! I also wanted to thank you for all the love on my Jungwon story! I hope you like this one just as much! I hope all you sunghoon Stan’s had fun! Also any feedback is highly appreciated, tell me what you liked or didn’t like and tell me what you would want more of in the future! 🙏🏽
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gamesetart · 2 months
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In the Open relationship au at one point maybe Art actually asks her to help him out, he’s been aching so much since the talk with Patrick and seeing reader with Tashi didn’t help at all, so she gives him a hand (literally 🫣) and as he is close to reaching his high she makes him pray to god for forgiveness for that sinful act or else there’s no release 😩
ohhh wait yes
because art's been like this for a couple weeks now. needier than before, even after his composure started to slip. genuinely needy. waking up to his hard-on pressing into you, he's half-asleep and he's still needy, still gagging for it, because he just wants you so, so bad. and eventually, he caves. reasons it away to himself, thinks that it'll be alright if it's just your hand, that much he and his god can forgive him of.
you play off your immediate excitement. act concerned - is he sure? you don't want to take advantage of him, is he sure he really wants this? - and when he finally "persuades" you that yes, this is what he wants, you finally get to see his cock for the first time.
and it's pretty, a nice girth, long and very quickly going red at the tip. you were right, you think, he does flush all over. and you kneel in front of him, tell him he needs to spit on your hand so you can stroke him.
"you want me to... spit on you?"
"just on my hand, artie, right here."
he won't admit he enjoyed it, likes the idea of you so sweet and pliant he could spit on you and you'd take it - want it. but you feel his cock throb nonetheless.
he doesn't last very long, but you don't expect him to. you're on your knees, revert, beautiful, and he thinks for a moment about how much like prayer this is, how much like your god this would make him. it's a sinful, prideful thought, and he pushes it away in favour of bucking up into the warm, slick grip of your hand. he's never realised how wet things could be before, his cock rapidly leaking precum, leading to a mess of wet shlick, shlick sounds as you fuck him with your fist.
"fuck, fuck, oh god, baby, 'm close," he whines, "please--"
"don't ask me," you say, slowing your hand, drawing it out. "ask him."
you jerk your head up to the ceiling. he stares at you, eyes wide, cheeks flush, pupils blown, cock throbbing in your hand. even his balls twitch, as if to win your sympathies.
"you're being so bad, after all," you continue in a low voice, giving him a rough stroke, root to tip. your thumb swipes over his slit and he whines. "you should ask for a bit of forgiveness. tell him you're sorry, and ill let you cum."
like art isnt sorry every damn day. like he isn't plagued by sin every time he looks at you. he doesn't have to try to come up with the right words.
"f-forgive me, heav-- ah -- heavenly f-father," he chokes. "for i ha-ah-ve sin-sinned."
you resume your torturously slow hand job. all the breath leaves arts lungs in a single, shaking breath.
"i- i've had lustful feelings and--" his voice breaks. "god, oh, god-- ive been bad, ive been so bad, im so sorry, 'm sorry, im sorry, oh god, please, please, 'm sorry--"
it's like his brain is broken. he knows the words, but his mouth can't form them. he knows this prayer back to front. this very confession. but his tongue is tied, everything lost somewhere on the path from his head to his lips. it's exactly what you were looking for.
"that's a good boy. cum for me, artie."
and he does. all over your hand. his stomach. it's sort of beautiful. take that, you think vindictively. i made him like this. he's mine, now. im his fucking god.
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thegaysinmyhead · 9 months
Text
DC X DP IDEA(?)
Guys why is literally no one jumping on a VERY OBVIOUS trope for ghosts??
FUSION?? LIKE STEVEN UNIVERSE STYLE??
Just–hear me out hear me out!
Ghost forms are just extensions of their core, so it makes sense they can be changed right?? Gems physical bodies are just extensions and projections of their gem!!
SO, if going by a lot of phanon core logic, it would make sense if ghosts can have conversations to like fuse or something. Probably to use in battle mostly (ghosts are obviously territorial) but can also be used for love or to protect a weaker/damaged core! JUST IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES!!
Danny being able to fuse literally Steven universe style w his friends because he's a halfa, Danny being able to fuse with Jason because he has a connection because of the pits (Halfa or Revenant Jason Todd), Danny fusing with LITERAL BATMAN as he's the ghost king!!
CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW TERRIFYING THAT WOULD BE???
Jason in the middle of getting sacrificed: :|
Danny, the one being summoned and seeing a poor baby ghost/potential boyfriend material and snatching him to protect him: :)
Bruce:
Tim:
Dick:
Barbara:
Steph:
Cass:
Jason: ¯\(°_o)/¯
Danny: Mine now :)
*he says as their body erupts into flames and they become the most bad ass looking ghost that kicks the cultists asses; Before they started lounging around and reading Jane Austen* (floating laying down is apparently more comfortable than just laying down on something solid, so its nice to float and read)
ORRRR
Justice League facing off an impossibly strong enemy that they have no choice but to look into outside sources to help defeat him (Trigon, Darkseid, something else that probably show up like 4 times a week lmao). Eventually, JLD get wind of a new ghost king who's supposedly kind and benevolent, which is races better than his old counterpart.
With the entire League's permission, begrudgingly Batman's, they summon the Ghost King as a last option and are ready to sacrifice anything for his help (within reason). Imagine their surprise when Danny Fenton, aged somewhere between 16 to 21, pops up in the portal looking frazzled and like he was woken up from a nap. Not even in his ghost form, just blinking owlishly at the League members while gaping like a fish.
"Holy shit—the Justice League?! I'm being summoned by the Justice League?! Ohmygod Tucker is gonna freak"
Constantine butts in looking nervous as hell and sweating buckets, "Your Majesty—"
"Just Danny's fine, I can't believe I'm being summoned by THE Justice League!"
"...Danny. We could really use some of your help, mate. See, we got ourselves an issue we can't really fix ourselves–"
"I'll do it. I'm not even joking, you guys don't even have to ask me twice,"
Everyone in the League (besides Batman) was watching with bated breath at the exchange. The confusion as a random teenager showed up was quickly washed away with how formally he was addressed, but it spiked back up when 'Danny' seemed to...hero worship them?
"—But!"
Ah, there it was. Can never do trades in the occult for free.
"I would really do it for free if I could man, honest! Just...I need to make a teensy weensy deal to be let out of the circle? You guys don't even have to let me do it on my own if you're worried I'll go rogue! You can tie me into a deal about one of you 'using my power' in exchange for like, a cup of coffee or something,"
Now everyone (except Batman, though he seemed to have a clenched jaw) was opening gaping as the omnipotent described being. Being offered something to great...in exchange for a mug of bean water? There had to be a catch, some sort of trickery, but Diana and many others could sense no ill intent on the young king. Constantine had even let up on the nerves as the being continued to speak, relief seeming to crash through his entire body when he realized none of them would have to give up their soul or something. Batman was the first to speak up.
"And if you were...to offer your power to one of us, what would that entail for the mortal or semi-mortal user?"
The king hummed and tapped his chin in thought, "Well, they'd probably be fine. Most of my power would be filtered through myself, so whoever is wielding it wouldn't go mad or suddenly overwhelmed with it. It'd be like turning on the tap while the well is underground, or something close,"
Batman nodded before Danny continued to speak.
"—But, obviously, I reserve the right to take away my power at any point if I see it needed. I would not be mind controlled, nor would I be drained, I would be an observer in the back of whoever decides to be at the other end of the contract until it's fulfilled,"
Constantine stepped forward once again, cigarette all but ash between his lips now, "Contract, right, mate. So uh, one of our sorry blokes gets access to your unfathomable power for the time it takes to beat whatever the hell it is out there. And in exchange, you get a cuppa? Maybe some biscuits and other treats with it to sweeten the deal?"
Danny smiled brightly at the ruffled looking blond and nodded, "Sounds good to me!"
All at once, the room dropped in temperature as the summoning circle around Danny became encased in ice. The ice shimmered an otherworldly dark blue, almost black, and stretched until it reached the feet of the young king. A spark lighted ontop of Danny's head before exploding into a flame, a crown taking shape through the smoke of the fire to sit upon the teenagers head. There was a flash of blue as a ring materialized on the teen's finger, as well as a cape seeming to sew itself from nothing to sit upon his shoulders. Danny looked sheepish as much as he looked serious, his eyes now emanating a neon green with hints of red in his pupil.
"This is kind of the awkward part, whoever what's to use my power will have to form the contract. I don't really feel comfortable with a super or meta using it, with how powerful I am it might cause more damage than repair it, so preferably a human or mostly human host?"
Danny looked so incredibly shy all of a sudden as he rubbed the back of his neck in an incredibly human gesture. The word's were out of Batman's mouth before he even realized he was speaking then.
"I'll do it," The Bat walked forward to stand beside Cobstantine. Constantine pinched his eyebrows together before letting out a nervous chuckle. Danny just seemed to light up.
"Ohmygosh I'm going to be core merging with Batman," the young king seemed to be doing another small fan-boy freakout before coughing and collecting himself.
"Right, right. Contract to do now, tell my Fraid about this later," Danny lifted up a flaming hand towards the edge of the summoning circle, motioning gently to the Bat.
"Heads up, this is going to feel really weird. Just keep holding onto me after the contract sets, and then make sure to get everyone away as fast as possible. You will grow, it's not gonna be very nice if other people are around because you'll squish them,"
The other League members around nodded mutely, eyes staring at Batman as they prayed and wished for his safety. Batman just gruffed and slowly placed his own hand into the awaiting palm. It didn't burn as he thought it would. In fact, it felt quite cold. Like the feeling of putting your bare hand into a pike of snow just to know how it felt. Batman forced himself not to shiver as he felt the contract form through the handshake. The young king sent him a reassuring smile before he seemingly vanished.
No, not vanished. There was a bright light in Bruce's gloves hand that shook with power. The light—sphere, orb?—sunk into his palm, and this time Bruce did shiver. It felt like the biting winds of a blizzard as it crept up his arm to settle in between his ribs. There was a ringing in his ears blocking out the noise around him, but he could faintly make out images of the League rushing away from him and giving a very large berth.
There was a building in his chest, and he felt it pulse like a second heartbeat. Bruce pulled his hands to his sternum and clawed uselessly as the hevlar, the freezing cold threatening to consume him whole inside and out. His chest pulsed, and he fell to the ground in a heap. Bruce heard some of the members try to rush to him, but the JLD held them baback. There was a cracking like ice pulling away from itself, like glaciers splitting, and all of a sudden Bruce felt power rush through his veins.
It should have been overwhelming, it should have terrified him into immeditely creating contingencies, it should have drove him mad with power, but it didn't. Bruce didn't realize his form had grew until he opened his eyes (when did he close them) and blinked down at the members of the League. They were so...small compared to him now. Bruce felt more than he saw the flames dance from his collarbone, and they flickered up high around his thankfully still cowled face. Though, it seemed his face was the cowl right now.
Bruce turned to the being they were fighting (and losing to) moments ago, and smirked. He felt the spike of fear, and he suddenly knew that this thing didn't stand a chance.
.
.
.
GUYS I KNOW BRUCE WOULD NEVER AGREE TO POWERS LMAO LET ME DREAM THO I THINK HE WOULD LOOK COOL ASF AS A GHOST!!
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