#in the morning i change my pillowcase | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ilovebuckers5 · 5 months

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚scary love˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

nika muhl x reader

summary - you've never experienced true love until nika came along and part of you doesn't believe that you deserve her.

word count - 1.6k

themes :

-angst

-fluff

warnings :

-arguing

-cursing

a / n - inspired by scary love by the neighborhood and dedicated to my love (not the bad parts though only the sweet ones!)

Nika's hair always felt nice on my bare chest. I felt at peace when I'd wake up to her lips just barely touching my collarbones. my hands were still tangled in her hair but I slowly twirled some strands in between my fingers. this didn't feel right. it felt right in the moment but in the back of my mind, I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve to have this perfect woman in my arms. it felt like I took up her warmth. I slowly peeled my arms off of her back and slid out from under her. her head gently fell against the pillow I was previously lying on. I watched as she didn't make a single move. I stood there and admired her messy hair sprawled out on the silky pillowcase. her fingers tightened around nothing but fabric, I could tell she wanted me back there. but I still walked to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. brushed my hair and brushed my teeth with the same thought running around my head. the same thoughts.

I can't fuck this up

yet the moment I felt okay and comfortable, a flip had switched. a couple of weeks after that morning I was feeling amazing. I felt like everything I was blessed with was meant for me. but the second an ounce of doubt ran through my head, I blew.

"Baby who is this?" Nika said holding my phone to my face. her voice was soft and calm but part of me still felt threatened. it wasn't anyone. it was just my best friend and I happened to have her contact as "babe💞" the same emoji I had next to Nika's name on my phone. I knew that it was just my best friend and nothing more but for some reason, I felt the need to panic. as if I had something to hide. "oh. uh, it's just- no one." I snatched my phone out of her hand leaving it empty as if it was searching for something to grasp onto. I held my phone to my face as I quickly changed the contact back to my best friend's name and a red heart next to it. I felt guilty for nothing. when I looked up I saw Nika with watering eyes ready to burst. and suddenly I copied. this is the last thing I wanted. Had I fucked it up? "y-you can tell me who it is." her voice was trembling beneath her lips. I could tell that inside she was fuming and wanted to explode but she had always hidden her angry side from me so she refused to blow. I quickly stepped closer to her body, cradling her jaw. I tried to calm her down without telling her the truth even though I knew that was what would fix things. something was stopping me. She tilted her head in the opposite direction of my hand, ripping her skin from my own. "who was it? just fucking tell me." why didn't I tell her. why couldn't I? I rested my hands against my stomach trying to control my increasing breath. "i-i don't know." my voice trailed off with shaky breaths. what the fuck was stopping me. I held onto my arms pretending it was Nika. the room went quiet after Nika took a couple of deep breaths. Nika finally turned around and showed her damp face. her eyebrows furrowed when she saw that I had been crying too. "why are you crying? what do you have to be crying about?" she pointed her finger at my chest, gently bumping me back. I took a breath, stumbling over my air while wiping tears from my cheeks as fast as I could. I tried to keep it together and not sob out of frustration. "it's not anyone Nika I promise." I practically pleaded between words.

"then why won't you tell me!?" her hands flung through the air drastically.

"Please you gotta trust me, baby." I dipped my head into my palms.

"how am I supposed to trust you when you can't even tell me who you're calling babe?"

"It's just a nickname," I whispered under my breath.

"Jesus Christ." her hands were tangled in her hair as she paced around the room.

"I'm sorry" I croaked out between hidden sobs.

I felt weak.

"do you realize that I love you? more than anything in the world and if you do too you need to fucking show it!" she said with her back faced to me.

I held onto that. She loved me more than anything in the world. and I loved her more than myself.

"I-" I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off.

"no. You can explain to me once you actually know how to"

Nika walked out of the door and to her car. I knew where she was going. she drove all the way back to campus to see Paige. it's where she always went when she was upset. So there I was sitting on the edge of our bed. crying to pass the time that was only filled with hope for her coming back through the door and giving me time to explain. I slowly moved to the floor and sat against the wall instead. My knees curled up to my chest. my jeans soaked up all the tears that came out of my eyes. I held onto my shins and sobbed for the rest of the night. it was only at around 3 am that I decided to get up and change something. I brushed through my hair and changed into sweatpants and a cropped tank top. I changed from my slippers into tennis shoes before leaving the apartment and walking to campus. it took me thirty minutes to get there and about ten minutes to get the balls to knock on Paige's door. the door swung open to reveal Paige staring at me. blanker than usual. she was obviously mad and that made me feel even worse. "uh- can I come in?" I know Paige loved me and Nika together and separately so she let me in and sat herself on her couch. "she's in my room." she spit out blandly while motioning her hand behind her head.

"did you walk here?" Paige questioned while shoving leftovers in her mouth.

"yes," I said while walking down to where Nika was. the door was cracked open enough for me to see her lying on Paige's bed. no covers and not a pillow. just flat sheets. I hesitated with my hand hovering over the door knob before creaking open the door. Nika was asleep, which I was part thankful and sad about. She used to say that it was almost impossible to sleep without me. I could tell that she wasn't completely out though. I can always tell now from the number of times I've walked in on her sitting up waiting for me to come back from the bathroom. She would always have a goofy smile on her lips once I called her out for fake sleeping. I chose to lean against the wall after closing the door instead of sitting on the edge of Paige's bed like how I wanted to. I watched Nika's chest rise and fall with every melancholy breath she took in her sleep. A million things went through my head questioning what she could be thinking about. A small hair fell down the side of her face and I took no time to reach and move it back behind her ear. I guess she's a light sleeper without me. she blinked her eyes open and I wanted to cover my face. her eyes were locked with mine for half a second before she looked down at the pale purple sheets she was lying on. we sat in silence for what felt like forever until I spoke.

"it was my best friend. the girl in my contacts." I explained, waiting for Nika to even look at me.

"We have this inside joke where we call each other babe and it was brought up the night before so I thought it would be funny to change her contact to that but I'm now realizing that it was a bad thing to do while in a relationship and I'm so so sorry, I don't want to lose you and I feel like I just did you're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I don't know what I'd do without you-" my words began to trail off before Nika stood up and held her finger to my lips.

"stop." her hand rested on my hip while she stared into my eyes for the first time in 2 hours. I got caught in her eyes. her touch and her breath and everything else. she sighed and looked at the floor then back up to me.

"It's okay," she whispered while wiping the few tears that fell down my face without me noticing. she pressed her forehead against mine while moving her hands to the small of my back. a shiver ran up my spine when I felt her touch on my uncovered skin.

"I love you, Nika. so much more than you think. I'm so" my voice began to break "I'm scared that something will go wrong. that's the only thing that has ever happened to me. I get in an argument and then it's over. if that happened between us, I- I don't know what I'd do." Nika nodded along while I spoke.

"I am never. ever. going to pull that kind of shit on you beba."

Nika's accent calmed me. her words seemed to flow more when her accent was present.

I wrapped my arms around Nika's body pulling her in tightly. I pulled away to see her staring in absolute awe. her hands ran over my hair, slowly twirling strands between her fingers like how I used to.

#nika muhl #basketball #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #lesbian #uconhuskies #nika muhl x reader #nika x reader #nika mühl #uconnwbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies

321 notes · View notes

huellitaa · 3 months

Text

sunday reset ⊹˚. ♡

your weekly refresh list of things you should be doing every day! tying up loose ends at the end of the week and planning for the next is a certified stress management technique and keeps you organised and prepared for your upcoming events, even if you're not doing too much. ♡

(you don't have to do this on sunday, this is just what i usually do !! do this once a week whenever it suits. <3)

write a list of all of the things you've been procrastinating this week and do them today !! no matter how big or small. anything that's gonna bother you next week, clear it up today.

change your bedsheets and pillowcases

sweep your floors

clean down all your surfaces

answer all emails and texts

take an everything shower and pamper urself ♡

get some physical activity in

check over your calendar for next week and make sure you're scheduling:

♡ a date with your someone you love (a friend, a family member, a romantic partner, whatever you prefer !! <3) ♡ an evening or morning for yourself where you pamper yourself physically and mentally ♡ a little bit of time for you to do what you love and indulge in hobbies and activities that bring you joy !! ♡ a journal session each week even if it's small so you can learn more about yourself and do some introspection and keep your mind clear ♡ an exercise or physical activity session to nourish your body and mind ♡ and a bedrot sesh, because we're all human and we all need rest, no matter how productive or strong or motivated we are <3

make a rough to do list for each day in the week based on the events taking place this week and add to it once the day comes (i can personally never preplan my to do lists because my life is far too chaotic half the time so i often just give a rough base to go off of and do the rest from that, but if fully scheduling in advance helps you then absolutely go for it! <3)

time blocking for each section or a few sections of the day can also be helpful if you're a more meticulous planning girlie ♡

plan out ur outfits! i keep a page of this on my notion and have an app on my phone called acloset which helps a lot w this because i am ridiculously indecisive and picking outfits is so difficult 😭♡

household tasks such as grocery shopping, laundry, meal prep, tidying etc so it doesn't bother you next week and you've got a whole fresh page to start on next week ♡

check in w urself and how you're doing so you can go into the new week with no lingering resentments or unhappiness or emotions from last week! applaud yourself on your achievements of this week, even if they're small, and write down anything you learnt, that you're grateful for; review the last week n how it went for you.

and then you can make your small goals for next week and how you want to improve from this week in next week, and give your all for the next seven days! ♡

don't slack on loving and experiencing every day of your life to the fullest just because nothing particularly special is going on. you're alive, that's beyond special in itself. you're a miracle. nobody in this world is ever going to be you, so take advantage of that and make the most out of everything. all my love ♡

227 notes · View notes

gamergirl929 · 3 months

Text

I Want To Ruin Our Friendship (We Should Be Lovers Instead) (Sophia Smith x Reader)

You weren't big on social media, you never got in on the TikTok craze, but when your best friend, and long time crush Sophia Smith asked you to make a TikTok, you couldn't say no.

You were never big on social media, in all honesty, you didn’t see the appeal, especially when it came to TikTok.

Anytime you saw your teammates recording a TikTok, you’d roll your eyes, but go along with whatever they were doing when the camera was turned your way, half-heartedly of course.

They were big on TikTok trends, and often recorded them at camp or at friendlies.

Somehow, you weren’t entirely sure how, you’d been roped into one of these said trend, but here you were sitting side by side with your best friend, Sophia Smith, the woman noticeably fidgeting.

“Hey.” You say softly, the girl’s breath hitching when you place your hand on top of hers.

“You alright?” You ask, your brows furrowed.

Her throat bobs, her brown orbs darting to your lips before again meeting your eyes.

“Y-Yeah.” She stutters and you hum, giving her hand a squeeze before letting go, missing the light twitch at the corner of her mouth.

You were well aware that something was bothering her, you knew her too well to NOT know something was wrong.

She was your best friend and had been since you’d become roommates in college.

You knew Sophia Smith better than anyone, and she knew you better than anyone.

She was the first person you’d come out to in college, and unsurprisingly, she was incredibly supportive.

However, there was one thing she didn’t know, and that was that you were deeply in love with her and had been since college.

You inhale deeply, pulling yourself out of your thoughts before clearing your throat.

“So, what exactly are we doing here?” You ask, wondering what TikTok trend you were actually doing.

Sophia clears her throat.

“J-Just listen to this song.” She says softly before, pressing play on your phone, music filling the air

Your brows arch when Sophia starts humming, her cheeks dusted pink.

You wouldn’t admit it but you liked hearing her sing, something she did almost every morning in college when she was making coffee before class.

You’d act like her early morning peppiness was annoying, but in reality, you loved waking up to the sound of her voice.

“I think I’ve heard this song.” You say, vaguely remembering hearing it come from your best friend's phone one night.

“Y-Yeah?” She stammers tugging at the hem of her t-shirt and you nod.

It’s then that the lyrics start, the woman beside you singing quietly.

“Y/N, darling, you’re my best friend.” She sings and your cheeks flush.

“But there’s a few things, that you don’t know of.”

You quirk your eyebrows, noting that Sophia glanced away, her cheeks flushed.

“Why I borrow your lipstick so often.”

You stop yourself from playfully teasing the woman that you in fact didn’t wear makeup, but you didn’t want to interrupt her.

“I’m using your shirt as a pillowcase.” She puts her hands together and leans against them, feigning sleep.

The look on her face changes as she cups your cheeks, your breath catching in your throat.

“Soph?” You say, her throat bobbing as she sings the next set of lyrics.

“I want to ruin our friendship.” She whispers as she leans in, your heart pounding wildly.

“We should be lovers instead.” She sings before closing the distance between you.

You kiss back with no sense of hesitation, wrapping your arms around her middle as you pull her close, your lips never disconnecting.

Her arms wrap around your neck as you kiss softly.

Your lips disconnect momentarily as she crawls into your lap, her legs wrapping around your middle before your lips meet again and again, each kiss sweeter than the last.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” Sophia whispers against your lips and you smile.

“Me too.”

The TikTok you were making is entirely forgotten as your lips reconnect, the two of you smiling against one another's lips.

You pull back, chuckling when the woman in your lap whines loudly.

“How long have you been wanting to kiss me?” You ask, playfully bumping your nose against hers and she blushes as she turns away.

“A while...” She mumbles and you smile, taking her chin between your thumb and index finger and turning her back towards you, your Y/E/C orbs meeting her dark browns.

Her cheeks darken and you smile softly, your eyes holding a softness that makes her eyes go glassy and her heart skip a beat.

“When you walked into our dorm room, tripped on the carpet and fell on the floor.” She giggles and you throw your head back with an annoyed groan.

“I was so embarrassed.” You mumble and she smiles, ducking down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

"It was adorable.” She teases and you snort.

“Sureeeee it was.” You stick your tongue out and she hums.

“What about you?” She asks, your brows furrowing in question your head cocking to the side.

Sophia giggles, cupping your cheek.

“How long have you been wanting to kiss me?” She asks and you ponder thoughtfully, already knowing the answer as you cover her hand with your own.

“When I got up off the floor and you did everything you could not to laugh when you introduced yourself.” You grin and she giggles, stroking your jawline.

“I was trying SO hard.” She says, giggling even harder and you roll your eyes.

“Oh, I know. I heard you laughing when I left to get my stuff.” You say and she snorts, burying her face in your neck as she giggles.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry.” She laughs and you scoff.

“Yeah, you SOUND really sorry.” You say as you squeeze her sides, the woman squeaking loudly.

You grin maliciously, the woman attempting to scramble out of your lap, but she’s too late considering you’d rolled the two of you over and now had her pinned beneath you, your fingers digging into her sides.

She bats at your hands as you playfully tickle her sides, only stopping when the woman’s chest is heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

You hover over her, your eyes darting around her face as she fills her lungs with air.

“You’re gonna pay for that.” She pants and you hum, burying your face in her neck and kissing her jawline.

“Oh, am I?” You ask, Sophia’s breath shuddering as you kiss her pulse point.

“Y-Yeah.” She sighs, giving you a playful glare when you pull away from her, her shining brown orbs locking with your sparkling Y/E/C’s.

“You know...” You start, Sophia’s brow arched.

“I guess TikTok isn’t THAT bad.” You shrug and she giggles.

“Does that mean you’ll make more with me?” She asks and you smirk.

“If they end this way every time, then hell yeah.”

Needless to say, you made A LOT of TikToks after that, and they all, in fact, end the same way every time.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #sophia smith x reader #sophia smith imagine #this is my first time writing for sophia so be gentle please #feedback is appreciated!

232 notes · View notes

t-tomuras · 8 months

Text

† ─── •𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬

Pairing: Alastor x F!reader

Warnings: Use of petnames ( dear, sweetheart, darling, dearheart ), reader has ears and a tail ( mhm ), religious themes / comparisons, mild biting, ( very slight ) injury, creampie, slight overstimulation

Wordcount: 5k

Notes: HA HA HA I've no excuse for this. canon is what I make of it.

“If you truly want a shot at redemption, my dear, you must actually make attempts at changing your behavior,” the muffled sound of Alastor’s voice seems far closer than the simple radio on your bedside table; the one that you continue to ignore with each morning’s wake up call. Reasoning that Sir Pentious must’ve turned the volume up on it when you caught him skulking around in your room or maybe it was one of his simpleminded minions mixing up the rooms they were allowed in.. again.

Regardless, you shift further into the plush comforter, whining louder at the sound of radio static but you don’t open your eyes. Reaching blindly about hoping to wrap your hand around the infernal contraption to continue blissful sleep but to no avail.

“Five more minutes,” barely audible through the fabric of your comfortable pillowcase. Whines muffled by the material that you keep your face buried in.

“You said that an hour ago, dearheart,” he speaks again, volume louder this time. It causes your ear to twitch wildly in an attempt to pinpoint where his noisy little box was without fully rousing from slumber. Groaning as you feel around blindly, m grasping at nothing but air for a spell until you think you’ve got it. A triumphant little smile spreading on your still hidden face when your clawed fingers brush over something cool. Closing your fist around it with a delighted hum before a proverbial bucket of cold water is dumped on you at the sound of Alastors voice once again. Closer this time, more clearly and obviously not emanating from anywhere but the source itself.

“I believe I’ve been lenient enough with you,” you gasp when cold fingers wrap around your wrist, lifting you up while you scramble to grip at your covers. Scrounging to maintain some decency and not reveal your bare chest to the hotelier himself.

“Alastor,” sighed breathlessly while vibrant crimson hues scrutinize you, cheshire grin unwavering in his judgmental gaze before you’re dropped all together, “what are you doing here? You never come personally for a wake up call.”

Usually it was one of the other staff members like Nifty, sweet Charlie or indifferent Husk; hell sometimes even Angeldust but it’s never once been the boss himself.

“It’s your first day on the job sweetheart, I don’t approve of tardiness either,” you clamber to sit up with your covers clutched closely to your chest. Swinging your legs over the side of the plush mattress top after Alastor gives you his back. Glancing to the side for whatever you’d taken hold of to see his staff set against your nightstand. Gaze flickering from it to him as he crosses the room in confident strides to your wardrobe. Taking a moment to rummage through the hanging clothes until he procures an empty hanger from the rack before returning to your bedside.

Extending his arm out with the metal wire hooked on thin digits as his other hand gestures towards it in show. His lids fall shut, bowing gentlemanly as he presents you with a white dress shirt and sleek black pencil skirt to compliment as well as a blazer you’ll forgo despite how it’s meant to complete the ensemble.

“I had it tailored specially for you,” Alastor bends at the waist, lifting his head for his gaze to rake over your form, enjoying the way you squirm under the scrutiny. “No more embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions over that tail of yours! This will be your uniform while you work as my assistant.”

“Assistant?” You blink owlishly, gingerly taking the outfit after Alastor holds it out to you.

“Yes! My assistant,” his voice warbles like an old radio that wavers in signal before it stabilizes once again, “you see, your gracious host believes the best suited action plan for your soul's salvation is to actually put forth some effort towards your community.”

You’re standing now, pout on your lips as you tilt your head. Fastening the buttons to the crisp dress shirt of your new uniform, “and my community would be?”

Though you regret the question the moment the words leave your lips, ears flattening against your skull they almost blend in with your hair at the sight of the telltale twitch to the Radio Demons eye. He doesn’t falter for long, taking hold of his staff and resting both of his hands over top one another against the spit guard of his mic. Taking your silence as understanding before he continues, busying himself by pacing about your room nonchalantly as you finish dressing.

“I agreed with her and as of late I have been in dire need,” his head makes a sickening snap as it spins fully around to face you before his body follows, “of an extra set of semi competent hands for my laundry list of duties to accomplish in a day!”

With an ostentatious gesture of the pommel of his staff, Alastor signals the end of his spiel, “that is where you come in, my dear. Two birds with one stone and all that jazz.”

You heave a bereft sigh as you pull on the tight pin skirt, shimmying it over wide hips but for once you don’t encounter a lack of space for your bushy tail. Spinning around to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, a tentative smile finding your lips as you smooth the fabric down the curve of your ass before you’re reminded you aren’t alone in the sanctity of your own room.

“And don’t you look ready for the day?” Stifling your yelp when your new boss appears behind you, hands resting on your shoulders as he looks you in the eyes of your reflection. Nodding with a sheepish grin when he responds, “Marvelous.”

Hoping he didn’t take notice of the shiver that wracks down your spine before he turns on his heel. Spinning his staff around in his hand as Alastor takes his leave, projecting his voice as he makes no effort to wait for you, “come along now dear, we have much to do.”

Unfortunately for you, Alastor wasn’t being hyperbolic either. Toting you all over town before shoving a list of remaining tasks to do while he attended another meeting with the overlords. Groaning over each item you move to after completing the previous one, snarling incredulously as you shift his dry cleaning from one hand to another.

“Where the fuck am I supposed to find venison at this hour?” Where were you meant to find it at all, rather. Perhaps you’ll call for Angel’s aid with the promise of your top shelf absinthe that Husk selfishly hoards for himself.

In moderation, of course! Lest Ms. Morningstar force you to write out the importance of considering others' journeys to recovery. Tossing the plastic bag protecting his tailored suit over your shoulder to rest against your back to reduce the chance of wrinkling.

“Kinda fucked up that he eats deer though,” commenting offhandedly to yourself as you send the proposition to Angel before, for the third time today, Alastor startles you.

“It’s an acquired taste sweetheart,” he coos as he materializes from the shadows, falling into step with you effortlessly, “however I have taken notice of your lingering gaze, perhaps you possess the peculiar taste yourself.”

Your ear flicks wildly in minute agitation, chest warming with embarrassment. More than accustomed to how aware Alastor was to most things deemed important but you didn’t think that included you by any scope of the word.

What purpose could he have for watching you? Alastor doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it nor explore the thought before he’s pinching the list he’d given you earlier to steal it from your grasp. Humming, what you think is, anyway, approvingly over all the marked off items.

“Your last errand for me today is to help me set up for my broadcast. I've been so occupied with our little passion project that I fear leaving it to those little egg creatures has left my booth in a state!”

Alastor glances back at you with his signature smug expression, your tired body slouching forward as you follow him down the street as sinners quickly dive out of his path. “Fine, fine, as long as I can catch a break after this.”

“Of course my dear, I’m no slave driver.”

But a state is an understatement for the utter disarray Alastor’s booth was in upon both of your arrivals. You almost think this is a form of torment on the Radio Demon’s part for dealing with your tardiness but that notion is quickly dismissed upon seeing his reaction.

A tight lipped grin (more akin to a grimace) on his features telling of his agitation even without the twitch to his lid or the vice grip Alastor has on his staff.

Trash strewn about, broken glass and spilled drinks over the soundboard and overturned furniture. You could only imagine what could have occurred with the moronic minions, but you’re certain this transgression against Alastor’s prized space will not go unpunished.

You see it as an opportunity for an owed favor, not that you couldn’t barter with Sir Pentious to do what you asked of him but this will leave you without haggle for certain. Thankful for his odd adoration of the incompetent creatures.

Allowing them to see another day as you chirp quickly, “I’ll clean the mess if you repair the broken things.”

Playful as if that’ll placate the man but he hums dryly, using his magic to mend the glass while you tidy up the old fashioned way. Sweeping up shards and crumpling up what you hope were unimportant scraps of paper the eggs used for ‘arts and crafts’.

Though you do keep one that involves a crudely drawn Alastor with one of the eggs holding his hand, signed by name: Frank.. with a backwards R.

Your sleeves are rolled up by the time you’re done, fanning yourself before finally taking down your hair to admire your work. The space near pristine save for the Radio Demons oh deer mug and a few scattered transcripts of requests that’ll never make it to the open air of his broadcasts.

“Well done my little languorous lady!” You’re not sure if he’s being genuinely sarcastic or not, his tone frequently facetious sounding in nature but you choose not to take offense. Swiping your forearm over your brow as Alastor taps the reupholstered cushioned seat next to him, “that’s all for today. You may rest now.”

“Gladly,” you all but groan as you flop into the seat next to him, slumping against its back as you glance over your shoulder through the window. Lidded gaze taking in the liveliness of the city below the hilltop of the hotel before you stretch out tired limbs. A yawn overtaking you as you allow yourself to relax. Uncaring that you’re still in the presence of a menacing overlord.

You nod off with an ease that’s almost impressive. Slowly leaning against his shoulder until your limp body slumps further into Alastor, causing a stiffness in him as he looks over you. Scrutinizing for a moment as he contemplates if you’re feigning sleep for a brazen attempt at contact with him but the thought is quickly dismissed.

You were a sleepy creature, after all.

And for a long moment, his arms hover away from you in his surprise. Poised with the option to either shove you from his lap or hold you closer and in the absence of questioning eyes (not that any wretched soul dares to do so), Alastor chooses the former.

His fingers come to pet along the curve of your skull. Combing through the bumps in your hair from the professional updo that you’d so proudly put effort into.

With an almost bereft sigh despite his unwavering cheshire grin, he adjusts you carefully so you’ll curl with more ease in his lap, your nose pressed to his throat after he’d thoughtfully angled your head to his shoulder. Finally situating you in a way he could still reach his coffee and begin his broadcast. Alastor supposes you’ve earned this uninterrupted rest in his presence.

Just this once.

He supposes he shouldn’t be at all surprised with how your slumber remains wholly uninterrupted even while he talks or sings into his mic. Unmitigated volume but at least you remain quiet, not a peep from you not even a whine.

He could almost praise you, but he’s already done so once today. And the notion is completely out the window whenever he shakes you in an attempt to rouse you at the end of his broadcast.

Enough that you whine and shift in his hold but only further wrapping yourself around him. Arms coming to loop around his throat and link your fingers on the shoulder opposite of the one you rest on, shocking even him when you nuzzle into the juncture of his jaw.

What a lucky thing you were, not to be punished for the over familiarity with him even while unconscious.

Alastor takes in a deep breath, chest expanding with the wide berth before he exhales long and slowly. Hooking his arms around your shoulders and the backs of your knees, for an ample amount of support of course, as he moves to stand. Sidestepping from his seat and descending the stairs that connect Alastor’s booth to the hotel.

Features an impassive, muted smile as he treks quietly through the halls until he reaches the floor you stay on. Snapping his fingers to open your door and close it behind him upon his entrance, closing the distance to your messy bed with little effort.

“Perhaps you’ll need to spend the day with Nifty soon,” said in jest when you seem to rouse ever so slightly.

“Mmm, no,” playfully petulant with a smile gracing plump lips as you use your cutest sounding sleepy voice, “trying to send me away? Didn't I do good for you today?”

“You did, let’s try and make it a habit,” a little snide but you understand, even in your half asleep haze, it isn’t inherently directed at you. It’s like second nature to him now, the sarcasm and glib attitude.

You giggle over it, humming in affirmation as you’re gently laid to rest but he's warm against your body. You cling to it, whine with furrowed brows as his fingers wrap around your biceps in a bid for you to loosen your hold.

You tighten instead, flex the muscles in them defiantly even as he pulls away, “five more minutes Alastor.”

“You always say that darling.”

“And it usually works,” a childish rebuttal but you can tell when to take an inch or a mile depending on Alastors mood. Despite his unamused expression, you figure it couldn’t hurt to attempt the mile, “five minutes. You’re warm, I’ll fall asleep quickly.”

To your surprise, but not without a defeated sigh more than telling of his annoyance, he agrees. Resting his knee on the edge of your mattress and you take it as your sign to let go of him so he can crawl in after you. Excitedly lifting the downy comforter in invitation before fluffing it over the both of you once he lies down.

Rigidly and awkwardly, taking one side of your bed as if there was a physical diving line while staring up at the ceiling, but in your bed nonetheless; that doesn’t mean you won’t pout about it however. You’ve already taken one mile, what’s another few feet?

“I took care of you aaallll day,” uttered as a sweet purr while you scoot closer, ignoring how pinstraight he lies beneath your covers. Alastor only hums sardonically, even in the dark you can see his smile. You prop up on your elbow, resting your cheek on the back of your hand as you petulantly furrow your brows over how he lies flat on his back staring up at the ceiling.

Only sparing you cursory glances before his lids fall shut under your unwavering gaze, “five minutes isn’t a very long time, you know.”

“Rude,” scoffing indignantly, flopping next to him, close enough Alastor can feel your breath fan against his cheek. It bothers you how it seems like he’s ready to leave, the nonchalant, indifferent air about him palpable at your side as a silence falls between you. Causing a ringing in your ears before you disturb the peace once more.

“I kinda liked it yknow,” you start slowly. Turning over until you’re half on your stomach, half on your side. Testing the waters by placing your palm on his chest, continuing when Alastor only gives you a sideways glance, “bein of some use to you.”

Drumming your fingers against the fabric of his blazer, fingering a button as you wait for any response, good or bad, from Alastor. Touching him brazenly, however slight and innocent it may be, but it’s encouraging how he doesn’t recoil from the contact. It emboldens you, even under the intense gaze of glowing crimson; it goads you into testing further. Hooking your leg over his hips, waiting with bated breath to see if you’re pushing your luck but your self preservation skills were always in a severe deficit.

“Two minutes left, sweetheart.”

You swallow thickly at his warning, sitting up as you pull yourself to straddle his hips, “maybe I could do a little more for you.”

He glances downward, brow quirked upwards as he watches you hover above his pelvis. Careful not to rest your weight against him, just in case.You’ve piqued his interest and curiosity in tandem.

“What more do I need of you, then, dearest?” Dare you think there’s a coyness to his tone?

Finally, you lower yourself against him, skirt hiking further up to the point it’s bunched at your hips. Leaning towards him until your chest is pressed to his and your elbows rest on either side of his face. Close, as if to share a secret as you whisper, “you need me sir.”

The moment breaks the second the statement leaves your lips, Alastors pupils now morphed into the radio dials as his sclera darken to deep voids and irises glow brilliantly.

You’re on your back in a flash, positions flipped with your boss for the day caging you in beneath him. Imposing his weight against you as he invades your personal space now, “and who are you to tell me what I need?”

Though you’re far from dissuaded with this reaction. If he wanted to kill you he would have, “can I call it a suggestion instead? Or is my desire merely projection?”

A beat of silence passes between you, then another. The blood coursing in your veins, roaring in your ears does little to drown out the sound of radio static emanating from Alastor. You worry your lip between your teeth, making the already plump flesh swell from the gentle abuse.

All the while under the microscope of Alastors piercing glare until all at once, he relaxes above you. Shoulders slacking and, with a blink, you’re met with the familiar dual tones of crimson and vermillion, “I enjoy your company, sweetheart, I won’t lie to you there.”

You relax in turn, tilting your head into your pillow as you bring your hands up to your chest. Testing over your sternum as if to manually slow your rapidly beating heart before steadily undoing the buttons of your blouse. Heat rising from your throat to your cheeks despite how he definitely saw your naked chest earlier in the day.

It’s different now though, having him watch you undress compared accidentally and innocently seeing you in the nude earlier. You exhale your trepidation though, tossing away your shirt and arching up without touching Alastor who makes no move to aid nor assist you to unclasp your bra to shed away as well. Settling back down the pillow top, resisting the urge to cover yourself despite the inadvertence to one sided vulnerability; you’ve come this far, you’ve no desire to turn back.

Meeting his unwavering eye contact with your own, stone faced while Alastor grins as you shimmy your skirt and panties down your hips until they slip down your calves to pool at your ankles. Lifting your legs ever so slightly to kick them away, spreading your thighs thoughtfully to frame his hips.

Now laid completely bare beneath a still clothed Alastor but you’ve steeled your resolve, tucking your chin down to achieve a sultry look. Bringing your fingers between your thighs to swipe slow circles against your clit. Dull throbs of pleasure gradually flooding your system the louder the slick clicks grow from your ministrations.

Lips parting around a breathy sigh as your hips twitch into your touch, all while the Radio Demon watches you with muted intrigue.

It excites you, warms your chest as your arch with a soft moan. Batting your lashes up at him, “your turn..”

Alastors grin grows impossibly wider, watchful eyes dragging down your naked body then back up again, “you’re still mine to command for the day.”

A whine leaves your lips next, knees falling inward and resting against either side of Alastors tapered waist. Shoulders creeping higher as he leans down to husk in your ear, the usually threatening electronic warble of his voice makes your puffy throb with need at commanding, “undress me yourself.”

A coy smile splits your features, pointed canines digging into your lips darkened by the rush of blood as you raise your arms. Resting your hands on Alastors chest before pushing into the sleeves of his blazer, away from his shoulders and he’s gracious enough to lean slightly on his haunches to shed it while you work at the buttons of his shirt. Unfastening each one with a fervor, eager to see and feel his skin against yours.

Growing more bold as you lean up with him, dragging your palms along Alastors triceps as his shirt follows his blazer. Stalling minutely when your nose brushes against his, focus darting between his eyes to his lips and back again before you close the gap. A tentative brush at first but your grow confident easily, one hand cupping the nape of his neck just below the curve of his skull while the other ventures between you.

Fingertips grazing his abdomen while you work at his trousers, laughing breathlessly into the kiss in a subtle bid for air when you feel a firmness at his crotch. Palming it testingly after you’ve undone his button and zipper, humming a pleased noise before you push at the pooling waist of the garment as you fall back against your pillows.

“That isn’t your staff this time, is it, Alastor?”

Alastor scoffs as he tosses away his bottoms, ridding himself of his final article in the meantime so you can appreciatively drink in the sight of him.

“Playing coy isn’t your strong suit dearest,” you shiver at the hint of agitation in his tone, but with delight this time.

But even still, as you lose yourself to the overwhelming desire for him, your confidence wavers with his lack of enthusiasm over physical engagement. Peering up at him with a pathetic look about you, knit brows and a slight pout to your lips.

“Whatever the matter, are you losing your nerve?” Alastor teases as he lowers himself to you, hard cock sliding against slick lips, a gasp ripping from your lungs at the contact as you shake your head emphatically. Looping your arm beneath his to drape along his shoulder blades, ever so slightly pressing him more firmly against you. His head dips lower, allowing you to tuck your head into his throat and with his lips by your ear he growls out a simple, “lovely.”

Your hips twitch reflexively into his at the sound, delighted thrill dancing down each vertebra of your spine only to race back up when his mushroomed tip nudges against your clit. Sighing a soft sound as you chase the feeling, feet flat on the mattress top as you grind up into Alastor who chuckles bemusedly at how so little elicits so much from you.

But he can admit to himself that you feel a kind of sinful he hasn’t partaken in for quite some time— if at all. He doesn’t remember, it’s never been a priority to him but it never hurts to indulge yourself every now and again.

His arm slips beneath you, fingertips pressing into your back to force you to arch further into him as he reaches to firmly grasp the back of your thigh. Pressing his thumb into the flesh while his hips roll into yours, coating himself in your wetness and filling the room with sticky clicks until his cockhead catches on your entrance. You inhale sharply at the initial stretch, eyes rolling back behind closed lids causing them to flutter and Alastor to chuckle until he’s fully sheathed in you.

“Sweetheart you are divine,” ironic, given where you’ve ended up for eternity but the praise adds to the pleasure Alastor causes. Falling into an easy rhythm with the pace that he’s set.

Even and calculated, satisfying with each rut of his hips into your warmth. Your legs raise until your ankles hook at the base of his spine, heels resting gently at the small of his back and the position cants your hips just so, allowing Alastor to drive into that patch within you that you swear has you seeing Heaven's light.

Singing his praises with saccharine sighs and pitched moans that break the syllables of his name that punctuate each thrust he delivers.

Like music to his ears, and Alastor grits it out in so many sounds rather than sentences, a first for the Radio Demon for certain; a loss for words. If not for the choked grunts when your tight walls pulse in time with your heavily beating heart, you’d think he was enjoying himself far less than you were as the telltale coil tightened in your lower belly. Assured of his pleasure as he hastens in pace ever so slightly, rut of his hips hurried almost imperceptibly— or perhaps you were just too lost in the throngs of pleasure on the precipice of euphoria to notice.

“Where would you like me dear,” the sound of his voice barely grounds you, blinking a few times before he repeats his question as your hands cup either side of his jaw.

“You’re pretty old fashioned, h-huh? How about th— ah, good ol pull n’pray?” You giggle over your own joke while your fingers thread into the crop of his bob. Tugging gently before pointed claws scrape softly, soothingly, at his scalp while Alastors grin grows tight quickly. Hips stuttering out of rhythm while you’re wholly unaware of how your laughter forced you to grip him tighter so deliciously that it was the final nail in his proverbial coffin. Velvet walls constricting around his sensitive cock so sinfully and it ultimately leads to his demise. The lights of your room flickering and his eyes glow brighter with the warble of his voice contorting his groan.

His nails dig into your skin as his body seizes while spilling into you, giving you surface level puncture wounds. The combination of pain and pleasure occurring simultaneously while Alastor fills you full has you following him into sweet rapture. Cells alright causing you to arch into him, emitting a throaty moan that drags out the final letter of his name.

All while Alastor continues to work you both through the experience. Each of his movements deliberate in order to prolong the feeling but it does well to overstimulate you in the best of ways. Body twitching as his hips drag backwards only to push in with a salaciously lewd squelch, his spend dribbling from you as he fills you full.

Too full, overwhelmed in the best way that you can’t stop yours from splaying your palms out over his back. Digging your heels with a little more pressure in incistance for closeness as your teeth sink into the soft tissues where his throat curves into his shoulder.

Drawing a surprised snarl from him and biting out “careful now darling. Don’t get too carried away.” Breathless post ecstasy as his hips slow and you utter muted apologies, dotting tentative kisses to the marks blossoming in your wake but you’re more than glad to have left some tangible evidence of your coupling.

Even if not a soul besides yourself will ever see them, it’s enough to know they’re there and this isn’t some very vivid perverse dream.

A calm falls over the room as Alastor detangles you both from one another, his lids fluttering shut when you stretch before settling down. Turning over on the stomach and he’s certain you’ll slip into unconsciousness within a few minutes— figuring then is the time to take his leave.

He recovered first, anyway, sitting up while his fingers smooth down any unruliness your activities might’ve caused before he shifts. The motion draws your attention and, despite how badly you want to remain on cloud nine now that you’ve achieved it with a blissful shortcut, you crash from the high. Alert now as a bit of worry spikes in your bloodstream.

You reach out, just like you have a multitude of times today alone but Charlie did say the road to your redemption was seizing opportunities whenever they present themselves. Fingers encircling his thin wrist, the touch earning a questioning sound from him.

Squirming under his gaze, suddenly the slightest bit self conscious as you ask the same thing that always tumbles from your lips with ease, “five more minutes?”

And for the second time today, Alastor complies. Turning on his side as you brighten and beam at him before closing the distance with a swiftness. Nose to his chest while your arms weave around his torso, humming contentedly when you both settle between the sheets.

“You always say that.”

#vixen writes

298 notes · View notes

mayajadewrites · 4 months

Text

could've been you - shouta aizawa, keigo takami

✦ synopsis: You're the new teacher at UA with a rocky past with one of their beloved teachers, Shouta Aizawa aka Eraserhead. You'd rather never see him again but alas, such is life. You also meet Keigo, aka Hawks, who is the opposite of Aizawa. Smiley, golden retriever energy.

✦ chapter content warnings: angst hehe

✦ relationships: aizawa x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader

ao3

TAG LIST:

@come-away-with-me87, @kxshdoll, @evilsanzu, @friendly-neighborhood-turtle, @lili-pond,

@the-unhinged-raccoon @falling4fandoms @cherry-cosmoz @kkgraham @big-denki-energy @aphrodite-xoxo @keiweeny @minminroie

chapter nine

Your heart starts to race.

The space where Keigo once was is now empty. His duffle bag - gone. You stand up so quick you almost fall over.

You check your phone. No text.

2:45 AM.

You press his contact and call 1, 2, 3, then 10 times.

No answer.

Tears well up in your eyes as you accept this fate - that Keigo snuck out. Left you.

You tried climbing back into bed but you can't sleep.

You put your softed robe on and pad to Aizawa's door. It's late, sure, but he's probably awake.

And you still don't have his number so this is how you communicate.

You knock on the door as quietly as you can, careful not to wake up anyone else on your floor.

After a few knocks, the door opens.

Aizawa rubs his eye before finally looking at you. He can tell you've been crying.

"What happened?" He grabbed you by your shoulders and brought you into his place.

You didn't answer - you couldn't. How could you explain that you just let a man fuck you and he left?

"Please talk to me." Aizawa's voice was soft now as he set next to you on the couch.

"Keigo left." You sniffle.

"Left? Left to where? What do you mean?"

"We had sex, fell asleep and then he left. He didn't leave a note or anything! I called, no answer."

Aizawa's eyebrows almost reached the top of his forehead. "He didn't say goodbye? No explanation?"

"No. His bag is gone. He's gone."

Shouta's face was full of anger. You observed his body language - he was tense.

But then he held you. No words were exchanged. His body heat was against yours as his body mended into yours.

His hair was pulled back into a low bun - your favorite. He pulled you on top of him so your back was on his chest.

You took a deep breath as his arms tightened around you, almost like a weighted blanket. He kissed the top of your head as your eyes started to feel heavy.

"I'm sorry, Shouta." You murmured as your eyes began to close.

"For what?" His calloused hand caressed the soft skin on your cheek.

You mouth parted as a quiet snore left your lips.

When you woke up the next morning, you were in a bed.

Not your bed.

Your face is buried in a large, soft pillow with a dark gray pillowcase. The blankets are shades of gray and black, the fabric so soft against your skin.

You heard the sizzling of oil in a pan, along with soft music playing through the apartment.

"Good morning." You emerged from the bedroom, watching Shouta cook breakfast. "Hope I didn't wake you."

He was shirtless, his hair up again, flipping a pancake with a spatula.

You shook your head as you yawned, padding towards the kitchen. Shouta half-smiled as you approached him. He wanted to kiss you so bad. He wanted to take you on the counter, pulling your hair as he watched your ass cheeks jiggle against his cock.

"You didn't." You looked down at your robe that you were still wearing. "I'm gonna grab clothes from my place quick, I don't want to wear this robe anymore."

"You can wear something of mine." Shouta walked to his room, opening a drawer with crewnecks folded perfectly, then another drawer with sweatpants.

He handed you the clothing, your nose instantly recognizing the scent of Shouta.

"I'll leave you to it." He turned around and went back to cooking.

As you changed into his clothes you couldn't help but notice the feeling in your stomach. Butterflies fluttering.

A feeling you haven't really felt with Keigo. Especially with the shit he pulled.

Speaking of Keigo, you checked your phone to see if he text you.

You had 40 missed calls from him, 55 texts.

Why even bother reading them? He left you with no communication. It takes 4 seconds to say goodbye.

You make Shouta's bed for him, laying the pillows nicely along the headboard. You left your phone on his nightstand to join him in the kitchen.

Shouta served you your breakfast with an iced coffee - he remembered from when you were observing his class how you liked it.

"Thank you." You dug your fork into your pancakes, letting the sweet taste hit your tongue. "I didn't take you for a cook, Eraser."

"I'm full of surprises." He smirked, his half lidded eyes finding yours.

You heard a hand banging on a door a couple doors down from Shouta.

Your room.

Both you and Shouta walk to the door, him opening it as his body rested against your back.

And there you saw a peek of red feathers.

"Leave." You stepped out of the doorway. "You took all your stuff already, so you're free to go."

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything to you, that was a mistake. I-"

"She said to leave." Shouta emerged from the doorway, standing behind you again. "You didn't have the decency to say goodbye, it's embarrassing that you even try to show your face here again."

"I was on call, there was an attack, I had to-"

"All of which I would have understood if you used your words and told me. You may be a grown man but you act like a child." You press your back to Shouta's muscular chest for comfort. "Only an absolute asshole fucks someone and dips in the middle of the night. That will be the last time you're ever inside of me." You turned on your heel to walk back into Shouta's place.

"Baby bird, I-"

"She was pretty clear on what she wanted. If I see you here again, you will have hell to pay."

After a few minutes, Keigo left. You heard his heavy footsteps walk out of the building, then he took flight into the air. You watched from the window, but he didn't look back.

"Stupid fucking bird." Shouta sucked his teeth as he took a sip of his coffee. "You're gonna stay with me today. He's probably gonna try to come back later."

You didn't bother to argue. "Okay."

It really bothered Shouta that Keigo left you at such a vulnerable time. It's scary giving yourself to someone and then they leave. It fucks with the psyche.

"You know, I never got your number." You looked at Shouta as he cleaned the kitchen.

"Because you told me I was never getting yours."

"Well, I changed my mind." You crossed your awms over your chest.

"Hm, what makes you think I want your number?"

"Come on, Eraser." You grab his muscular arm, wrapping both of your arms around it. "You know you can't resist me."

"Tch." He rolled his eyes, but still smiled. "You just like my place more than yours."

"It's cozy, unlike you. You have these hard muscles that are terrible to lay on." You looked up at him with your doe, Disney princess eyes.

"They're good for other things." He smirked as he picked you up by your waist, sitting you on the counter.

You can't help but smile as he cages your hips with his forearms, his chocolate eyes boring into yours.

"You're cute from up here." You tuck a piece of his hair behind your ear.

"You're cute in my clothes." Shouta's thumb traced circles on your plush thigh. "Your ass looks way better in them than mine does."

You playfully slap his arm, hooking your ankles together to pull him closer to you.

The feeling of Shouta being so close to you makes your stomach flip with a mixture of butterflies and anxiety.

It was so easy to kiss Keigo, but you're more excited when you're around Shouta.

You were expecting him to go in for a kiss, but instead he rubbed his nose on yours, interlacing his fingers around your ass.

It was an intimate moment. No pressure, no fear of him leaving.

Your memories with Shouta begin to flood your mind, how he betrayed you. How he didn't listen to you. How he assisted in putting you in a coma.

Can the past truly stay in the past? Can you look beyond what was done?

You sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, letting your body fall into him.

You will try.

157 notes · View notes

uravitsy · 8 months

Text

‘YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL’ SATORU GOJO

ACT TWO.

summary. gojo relives his memories with you, getting closer to acceptance. ☆

warnings. angst, sad!gojo, fem!reader! gojo x you, grief, established relationship, some smut if you squint, bittersweet ending

a/n. this is a short story i wrote over the summer, i wanted to dabble into the idea of gojo not being able to fully process his grief without the help of his students. it is a bit sad though.

ACT ONE : ̗̀➛ ACT THREE : ̗̀➛ FINALE

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

Gojo danced his fingertips across your bare skin. the pads of his thumbs pressing into your flush thighs before dipping in between your legs. He watched as you continued to sleep, your chest rising and falling peacefully. your skin was still covered with love bites and marks from the passionate night before. Hair spread widely against the silk pillowcase as goosebumps appeared on your skin from being touched by Gojo's cold hands.

With a smile, Gojo lowered himself down, spreading your legs to put one of your thighs over his shoulder so he had full access to your lady parts. Without hesitation he teasingly glides his warm tongue along your folds, making you squirm and try to close your legs in reflex but Gojo's grip forcibly kept them open.

He moaned into your pussy, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves to the point where you were lifting your hips up from the bed slightly, trying to move away from the overwhelming pleasure but gojo kept you in place, forcing you to take all that he was giving you on this lazy sunday morning.

"Satoru," you moaned his name tiredly, your head falling back on the pillows as you relaxed.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Gojo lifts his head up to look at you, biting your inner thigh.

"i'm still so sore and sensitive from yesterday.." you let out a blissful sigh as Gojo teased your clit with a flick of his tongue, a shiver going down your spine, "mm."

"I'll take care of you," His words were sweet like honey and his touch was like silk. it made you melt into the mattress, ultimately giving your body to him with such trust you wouldn't give to anyone else, "That's my good girl."

With a loud moan, you let Gojo take you to the world of bliss. It was nice to have him to yourself for a change since he'd been so busy at his job. You found yourself getting lost into piles of work as well, pursing your dreams with such vigor that it made you not have time in your calendar for your boyfriend. But you weren't going to let that stop you, to let it consume you to the point where your relationship with Gojo would grow strained.

So you made the time, the effort, to see him more and now here you two were, rolling around in the sheets for the past five days to make up for lost time.

You couldn't ask for anything else on such a glorious sunday morning. It was perfect. He was perfect.

"Parmesan cheese?" You asked Gojo as your back was facing him, continuing to plate his pasta that was fresh off the stove, "Satoru?"

"Hm? Oh! Yes, thank you." Gojo tossed his mail across the table before leaning back in his chair. You gladly served him his food with a nice tall glass of water but not without raising an eyebrow in question.

"What was it?" Humming, you take a sip of your own water as you pick up the envelope before reading the top, "Jujustu high...? isn't that the school you went to? why are they sending mail after all these years?"

"For a job offer," Gojo did well to hide most of his life with you and he wasn't going to let the wall crumble now. it was too dangerous for you to know anything about what he and others were capable of, "I already said no but they are persistent. besides, what do i look like teaching a bunch of kids?"

You couldn't help but let out a sad chuckle. Gojo was indifferent when it came to children and made it made it very clear throughout the five years you two been dating. He said they were annoying brats that he didn't have time for and over time you hoped his perspective changed, especially now that you were— never mind that, what were you going to do? What were you going to tell him?

"It might be a good opportunity," You try to reason with him, "You said that you were sick of this job you had now anyway. maybe a change will do you good, you should consider it."

"You make a good point."

You push your own feelings aside as you give him a bright smile, "Now don't wait up for me. I have this job interview and then a few errands to run. I'll see you later tonight, I'm thinking chinese?" Gojo followed you down the hall with a knowing smirk. He watched as you put your shoes on and grab your keys that were hanging on the hook by the door, "Unless you want something else then text me, I can always make—"

You were interrupted with a kiss. Gojo and your lips moving together in sync until you both were breathless. after a few moments, Gojo pulled away with a teasingly smile, a bit of pasta sauce still on the corner of his mouth from eating like a starved child.

"You're too good for me," Your boyfriend says honestly, his bright colored eyes looking upon you like you were his whole world, "I love you (y/n)."

"And I ove you too," And you meant that with every fiber of your being. You move Gojo's white hair away from his eyes, your hand resting on his cheek for a second too long as if to savor this moment between you. If you could freeze time it would be right for this moment, "i'll see you later, yeah?"

"Of course sweets," Gojo kisses the top of your head, confused by the pit of dread that he felt in his stomach. Why did he feel so bad all of a sudden? Why didn't he want to let you go? If only he knew that that was his inner voice warning him, telling him to stop the unthinkable. If only he would've known better then— maybe you'd still be by his side, "Get going so you can come back to me, I'll be so boooooored without you!"

"You could, I don't know, go to work?" You tease him, knowing that it was his day off. lucky him, "Not everyone has such a privilege like you, enjoy it! call geto or something."

"He's the last person I want to see!" Gojo lets out an annoyed huff, "Why can't you call off?"

"Goodbye Satoru," And with that you closed the door behind you. Your light and sweet aura going with you, leaving the place feeling cold and empty. Why didn't he stop you from leaving? Why did he just watch you leave? He blamed himself. He blamed himself for everything.

"And so," Mrs.Shoko smiled at you as she tapped on resume, "You've been accepted for the position," her words left you nearly gawking, "we can get your office set up as soon as possible. How does Monday sound?"

"M-Monday?" you were still reeling from the shock, "That's perfect! Thank you so much for this opportunity!" Shaking her hand vigorously, you couldn't help but bow in thanks.

"I take it you'll be ready to relocate to Tokyo? I know it's quite far but—"

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes!" This was your dream job after all; Gojo would understand. You both talked about the endless possibilities, and this was one of them. You couldn't turn it down, not when you were so close to achieving what you had worked all your life for.

"So? What did you say?" Mrs. Yamada could hardly take the suspense as she set down a plate of finger sweets in front of you. "You've been telling me about this job for months."

"Of course, I said yes!" You smiled as you thanked her for the snacks, not wasting a second before stuffing your face. "Now I have to talk to Gojo."

"Speaking of him, have you told him yet?" Mrs. Yamada turns her sign to closed before taking a seat across from you, nodding in approval as you pour the both of you tea politely. The porcelain teapot weighed a bit heavy in your hands. "It won't be long before you can't hide it anymore, you know."

"I know," you instinctively place your hand on your stomach with a soft smile, "I'll tell him everything today! I'll get ingredients to make his favorite meal and pick up some of those sweets he likes at the candy shop by our house. It's a day for celebration after all… I just hope he sees it that way as well."

"You should have more faith in him," Mrs. Yamada takes a sip of her tea, "if he loves you, it won't be an issue."

"You're right," you said before checking the time on your phone. It was past 6, and you were sure Gojo was waiting up for you to hear the good news. And you wanted nothing more than to skip home. "Ah, Mrs. Yamada, as always I enjoyed talking to you but—"

"Go on now, you don't have to keep this old lady company anymore," she teases.

"Whatever you say, but I'll be back tomorrow."

"Of course, I can't seem to shake you off me."

"And you never will!" You laugh at the banter between you both before leaving the flower shop with a single flower in hand. You made your way to the nearest grocery store to pick up the ingredients for tonight's dinner, leaving with a few bags that took up almost all of your right arm.

While you were in the grocery store, the weather changed drastically. The once clear blue skies turned to a dark grey, the sudden flashes of lightning brightening the dark street as it began to pour down rain. You groaned, annoyed with the fact that you didn't have an umbrella on you. You were tempted to go back into the store to buy one, but your home was just right around the corner.

Your phone started ringing suddenly, making you rummage around in your purse to find it, the familiar name of: Gojo 🤍 popping up on your screen. "Hey, babe!"

"(Y/N)! It's raining super hard; I can come pick you up."

"I'm almost home. But guess what? I got the job!"

It was just a short two-minute walk from here, and the candy shop lights were still on, lighting up the whole street with its neon sign. You figured that you'd stop to get Gojo's sweets and rub the rest of the way home.

"Whaaaaaat?! I'm so proud of you! We have to celebrate."

"I'm one step ahead of you, Satoru! I also have some other news to share…"

A sudden flash had you squinting your eyes. The power box behind you sparking with electricity in the wake of being struck by lightning. You rushed to cross the street after looking both ways despite the rain fogging up your vision. Unbeknownst to the car that was coming toward you at full speed, the driver's vision obscured by the sudden flash of lightning that was too close for comfort.

All you saw in your final moments were bright headlights coming toward you. Then the world went black.

"(Y/N)? What was that? Are you okay?"

You couldn't move or see, but you could hear, and you could feel. You heard a person screaming for someone to call 911, you heard hurried footsteps around you as you laid against the cold gravel world, the energy to stay alive slowly leaving your body as you felt something tugging, pulling you toward an abyss of warmth and light.

"(Y/N)!"

Your groceries were scattered, and your favorite flower, that single flower, was still in your hands.

An officer leads Gojo down some stairs into a basement that was cold and damp. The air is thick with so much tension he thought he would suffocate. "I noticed it does more harm than good for the family member or… er, lover."

"I want to see her to make sure." To make sure of what? To make sure you were really dead? Yes, because quite frankly, he was in denial. It couldn't be you. Out of 7 billion people in the world, it wouldn't be you—it couldn't be you. He knew you'd pop back up and say this was all a joke.

Some sick, cruel joke.

The male officer leads Gojo through a freezing room with bodies on either side of him covered with a white sheet. The only parts of their bodies that were sticking out were their feet, with a large tag hooked around their big toe as if they were luggage.

Gojo's throat goes dry as the officer stops in front of a body, going around the metal table to slowly pull the white sheet back to reveal your lifeless body. "Can you identify her?"

"Yes," Gojo could only nod slowly, the words he wanted to say escaping from his lips like a forgotten memory. Out of reflex, Gojo smiles sadly as he looks down at you. He brings his hand up to stroke your hair, then your cold cheek, holding your once warm hand. "That's my (Y/N)."

"We're still investigating, but it's clear this was a hit and run," the officer continues his words with caution. "And I don't know if you knew, but by the autopsy report, she was five weeks pregnant."

Gojo feels like the wind got knocked out of him. "W-what?" he laughs then, this wasn't real. He was dreaming. When he woke up, you'd be right there next to him like you always would be. But no matter how many times he pinched himself, he couldn't wake up.

"I'll give you a few moments…" The officer leaves the room, his footsteps echoing throughout the large room.

Those few moments turned to hours. The hours turned to days. He couldn't leave your side, not when you were like this. Were you cold? You needed clothes. They had you in such an indecent way with other strangers. He was sure you'd be afraid and confused once you woke up; that's why he wanted to stay by your side.

When you wake up, he'd be right here assuring you that everything was alright.

When you wake up, he'd give you the longest kiss.

"Gojo-sensei?"

When you wake up, he'd hug you and never let go.

"Gojo-sensei?"

You weren't waking up, were you?

Megumi tugged on Gojo's pants leg, his small hand easily taking ahold of Gojo's as he took the flowers from Gojo, delicately placing the bouquet of your favorite flowers on top of your gravestone. Your parents started to walk away, your mother sniffling quietly as your father came to pat Gojo on the shoulder reassuringly. His silence spoke a thousand words as they left the graveyard.

Tsumiki, Megumi's sister, bends down to offer your spirit a plate of sweets. Humming a sad tone, she stands up to her full height, holding Gojo's hand in comfort as she cries softly. She sheds the tears that Gojo wouldn't, his face still holding no emotion as he mumbles a simple goodbye.

"Let's go," Gojo tells the children gently, sparing your headstone one last look before turning away. "How does ice cream sound? I'm craving something sweet."

The children give each other a concerned look, clueless as to why Gojo wasn't on his knees screaming his heart out at the unfairness of it all. But little did they know that he would, but only silently. Only when no one could hear or see him.

He did break. He did fall to his knees. He did cry.

He mourned for you, yearned for you, and begged whatever god that would listen to bring you back to him. But his cries would only fall on empty ears, leaving him to slowly wallow away. His heart forever shattered to where no one would be able to mend the pieces for him even if they tried—and he wouldn't even let them try since this heartbreak, this heartache, was a reminder of you.

He would rather have this pain that only the unlucky ones bear if it will forever serve as a memory of you.

#༊*·˚ uravisty #gojo x female reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #anime #gojo x f!reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #lovers #angst #bittersweet #jjk smut #smut #short story #jjk angst

265 notes · View notes

tadpolesonalgae · 10 months

Text

Amarantha x f!reader x Rhysand: Crimson Delights[*]

A/N: This is pretty short but it’s a rough continuation of The High Queen’s Courtesan :)

Warnings: threesome (fmf), oral (f!receiving), smut, Amarantha’s kinda mean but that’s to be expected

Word Count: 1,885

——————————————————————————————————————————————

“I’ve been thinking,” she muses from beside you on the bed.

Your attention slides to her immediately, turning to your right, settling on your side as you peer at her. Patiently waiting for her to continue.

“How many years have you been serving me for now, pet?” She asks, her silky, wine-red hair unbound on the dark pillowcase. You blink, thinking back to when you’d been roughly brought in. “Three, my Queen,” you answer. Really it feels like there has never existed a time without her, entirely wrapped up in your life of utter bliss and luxury.

“Only three,” she echoes, the edges of her lips quirking cruelly, sending heat fluttering between your thighs. “And in all that time, I don’t think I’ve ever let you and Rhysie play, have I?” You stiffen beside her, blinking as you watch her silently. Her blood-coloured nails come to rest around your throat, lightly scraping at the sensitive skin. “My Queen?” You manage out, pulse spiking beneath her fingertips.

Dark-painted lips stretch in a malevolent curve. “I think I’d like to see that,” she muses, eyes tracing over your parted mouth with cruel sadism. “But I don’t want to fuck him,” you say, “I want to serve you—”

“It doesn’t matter what you want, pet,” she growls in warning. “Disobey me again and I’ll make sure you don’t enjoy him.” Your Queen leans closer, dragging you so your lips almost touch as she stares down at you, dark desire swirling in the depths of her gaze. “He could turn it into real torture with a single breath of a command.”

You swallow thickly, heat steadily building between your thighs. “I didn’t mean to insult, my Queen,” you manage beneath her grip. “I only want the most pleasure for you.” White teeth gleam in the low light, a shiver licking up your spine as your hairs stand on end, relaxing into her brutal touch. “My pleasure is my business. All you need to think about is following my orders,” she says lowly, “don’t forget you’re expendable to me.” Your back arches at her cruel words, heat settling in the pit of your belly at the brutal nature of your High Queen. “Don’t be sad,” she croons, knowing you’d much rather have her to yourself than Rhys. “Maybe if you’re flawless, you can tempt me to join.”

Arousal liquefies in your lower abdomen, thighs squeezing together, never breaking her intense gaze. Grateful for every moment she decides to put on you over anything else.

She shifts, moving onto her back, releasing her piercing grip on your throat. “Now, not another word out of that mouth of yours. I want all your attention between my legs this morning,” she breathes, her own arousal permeating the air, intense enough for you to salivate at her appetising scent. As you shift beneath the covers, pushing them away to aid your movement, your hands settle atop her thighs, spreading them a little wider.

“Better eat up,” she croons, curving her legs at the knee. “It’s all you’re having for breakfast, lunch, and dinner after that little stunt.”

————

Your spine arches from the bed, baring your chest to the heavens as he slams in, large, firm hands gripping your hips with terrible power.

You can see why your Queen favours him.

A pained-sounding moan pants softly from your lips, features scrunching as your brows pull together, eyes squeezed shut while your nails practically shred the sheets. You can feel her eyes on you, having heat simmering beneath your skin. Arousal bubbling in the pit of your stomach, coiling tight and ready to spring free. How long has it been since you’ve received pleasure from someone else?

Amarantha doesn’t allow you to lie with other people; you’re hers. Which is why this change of heart is still so impossible to comprehend. Everything about you belongs to her, wholeheartedly. Down to the last drop of pleasure, it’s hers to control, hers to chose how to use. She’s never once given you and orgasm herself—she’s High Queen, and you her courtesan. You make no mistake in thinking that makes you anywhere near equals.

And yet—

“Harder.” The command quietly sliced through the room, and the Lord’s violet eyes glint with malevolent cruelty. Your lips fly open as he angles your hips, raising them from the bed, and hits harder. Shoving the air from your lungs as your hands scramble for purchase. You’d like to grab onto him, cling to his shoulders in an effort to keep you stable, but you doubt your Queen would approve, so you settle for having nails stab into your palms, teeth biting your lower lip.

You can’t last longer, with how the waves are already welling within you, preparing to crash down with brutal force, promising absolute pleasure. Breaths are rushed spasms of lungs, violent gasps each and every time he hits that spot, purposefully targeting it. Well-versed in female pleasure, and weaponising his knowledge against you.

Panting heavily, you crane your neck to the side, you and the Lord splayed out lengthways across the foot of her bed, while she watches leisurely from the top. Pleasant entertainment to get her worked up. Brows curve as your gaze locks with her own, pleading for her to allow you to touch her, to taste her, to feel her in some way. After so long of serving her with utter dedication, it feels wrong to be on the receiving end. Incomplete. Unsatisfactory in a way you need to be okay.

Dark-painted lips curve sinfully at their edges. “Stop.”

You pant heavily, torn between wishing for more and silently hoping she’ll relent.

Her sharp eyes gleam, then she’s beckoning you toward her. “Up here, pet,” she says lowly. It’s all the encouragement you need to force your body into compliance. His large hands release you, and you manage to shift onto your hands and knees, crawling lethargically up toward her, moving between her parted thighs. “My Queen?” You ask, desperate for her to give you an order to follow. Blood-red lips curve. “On the bed,” she orders lowly, arousal spinning your mind as her scent washes over you.

You follow swiftly, putting your back to the mattress, relief cooling your skin when she swings a leg over your head. Back on familiar ground. You’d do anything to please her, naturally, but taking pleasure while she remained unattended simply doesn’t sit right. You should be between her thighs, causing her pleasure, making her a mess and cleaning it up afterward. If you aren’t doing so, what’s the point?

“Open,” she commands, your lips parting automatically as she takes her seat, settling over your mouth like it’s her throne. Your nipples peak as arousal prickles your skin, so close to tasting her, already having her weight over top your parted lips, tongue prone to lick, and suck, and swirl. Anything and everything she wants.

“Rhysie,” she calls over her shoulder, turning to peer back at the male. “Return to her,” she says, and once again you stiffen. She should be receiving pleasure—you don’t even want it right now. Feel him at your entrance, his tip pressing to the soft, wet dip between your spread thighs, his large hands keeping you open for him. You aren’t the only one who seeks to please the High Queen.

Her nails rake over your scalp, fisting your hair as she pulls you against her heat, slowly grinding her hips over you, arousal gleaming on your lips and nose as she begins getting herself off, all the while watching the desperation in your eyes. “Set to work,” she growls, and you’re ready. More than ready, in fact. Overwhelmed with relief, until the Lord beats you to it.

Your spine arches off the bed as he slams in, knocking the air from your lungs once again, fucking you so brutally you could swear your Queen becomes some sort of Angel, wreathed in light. You don’t waste another second, arms wrapping over her thighs as lips seal over her clit, tongue rolling and flicking in those practiced movements. You know what she likes and you know how fast or slow to move according to the faint thrum of her pulse, the tempo of her breathing.

Pleasure numbs your skin, the bruising grip of his hands only vaguely registering as you focus on her. Swiping your tongue over her heat, suckling her clit, pushing at her entrance to have her enjoying this more than you are. She needs the best, and you’ll give her nothing but.

Heat ripples across your skin as the Lord continues pounding into you, sweat gleaming upon pale skin, desaturated from the void of sunlight this far below. He’s targeting that one, damned spot repeatedly, abusing it until your eyes gleam. Your Queen’s gaze pierces into, rolling her hips as she observes you beneath her, getting off on how content you are to utterly submit to her. So eager to please her.

It’s enough to have that steady heat in the pit of her stomach rapidly coiling, ready to burst, to spread across her skin. Her grip tightens brutally in your hair, hips winding sporadically as her high sweeps through her thighs, palming at her breast as your tongue swirls tight over her clit, suckling and swiping to take her through the orgasm. Feel as she flutters atop your mouth, her weight resting fully over your face, delicious wet heat for you to give your attention to until she’s satiated.

Your pleasure breaks with her own, eyes squeezing shut in bliss, relishing in the taste of her release, the scent of her arousal as the Lord continues pounding into you, throwing you into overstimulation as he refuses to release you from the intense pleasure. You peer up at your High Queen desperately, begging her to tell him to stop—it’s too much. But she watches, panting shallowly, observing how your brows scrunch together, eyes gleaming wet with overstimulation. The pads of your fingers press into her thighs needfully, tongue still lapping over her heat.

“Leave us,” she orders, pulling her attention away to icily gaze over her shoulder at the Lord. He obeys, slowing his thrusts before pulling out, and she feels your body begin to soften, muscles relaxing from being wound tight from pleasure. You’re so overwhelmed you hardly realise he’s left until she’s raising from your mouth, silvery, glossy threads of slick coating her thighs and your lips. Your tongue darts out, swiping over the skin, even if you’re hardly able to focus.

Her dark-painted lips curve ever so slightly in the corners, settling back over your mouth, winding gently, easing out the last embers of her pleasure. “How was that, pet?” She asks, still gripping your hair, though not as hard as before. You manage something between a hum and a moan, entirely fucked out after sustaining Rhys for a single round.

A cruel sounding laugh whispers from her lips, enjoying the sight of you so deluded and soft. So utterly out of it.

“Maybe I should let you and Rhysie play more often,” she muses, rolling lightly atop your mouth, clit bumping into the round tip of your nose.

“Get to see him pull you apart for me.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

rhys taglist: @azrielshadows1nger

#amarantha smut #amarantha x reader #amarantha x reader x rhysand #amarantha x reader smut #crimson delight #the high queens courtesan

147 notes · View notes

copperbadge · 11 months

Text

You know, I don't mind getting older; I'm perfectly happy not to be the same dumbass I was in my late twenties (I'm a totally different kind of dumbass now). What I'm not a huge fan of is aging. I woke up this morning hurting everywhere -- basically every muscle from neck to knees was sore or cramped or both. I know it's because I've been doing a lot of different work than normal (crouching, applying pressure with my arms, etc) but it still blows.

I had a list of cleaning stuff for today, but all of it was high-intensity, so I scrapped it and decided to put on a podcast I knew I'd like, move slowly, and only do what seemed feasible. I queued up I Don't Even Own A Television's "Pet Sematary" episode and set to work on changing out the linens on the sofa -- just changing the sheet, making sure none of the soft goods were dirty, and replacing the pillowcases on the pillows. The cats think of this sofa, which I rarely sit on, as "theirs", and Dearborn was very nervous about all of this, supervising me carefully.

[ID: Three images; on the left, Dearborn the tortie is crouched anxiously on a lurid orange Ikea sofa with all its back cushions missing. In the middle image she is hiding in a niche between the sofa and the wall, looking up at me anxiously. In the final image, the sofa has been covered with a burgundy sheet, the cushions are back in place, and a heap of brightly-colored pillows are piled on one end.]

I felt all right after doing that, so I decided I was okay to clean my desk. I know it still looks pretty messy but that's because I am manfully restraining myself from putting things in bins, since I need to have them out to remember they're there. If the hand cream and lip balm are out, I'll actually use them. (It's the time of year when my focal palmar peeling acts up; here's your annual reminder that if the skin of your palms dries up and peels, that may be focal palmar peeling and there are treatments!)

Polk supervised from the tower of storage bins nearby.

[ID: Two images; the left shows a desk, made of a glass top on sawhorse legs, with a table runner on it and two monitors on stands; several knicknacks and some toiletries are also visible. On the right, Polk the tabby is sitting on a large tupperware bin topped with a rumpled pillowcase, staring into the camera.]

I could have stopped there, but last night I'd put out some papers to deal with and it was easy sit-down work. I used to have a box of art -- postcards, prints, souvenirs, etc -- but I didn't like that I had it and never looked at it because it was just this box, so a while back I bought a "tabloid" sized art folio with archival-quality paper and sleeves, and I've started putting all that stuff into it. The first two images are just examples of what's stashed in it; the third image shows what I put into it this morning, which is two postcards from the Europe trip and the original "annotated family tree" that shows up in The Lady And The Tiger.

Got almost exactly an hour into the two-hour podcast when I finished, so a good day's work done even if I was creaking along like a rickety house in a high wind.

#naclyoho #national clean your home month #dearborn and polk

160 notes · View notes

genderlessghoul · 1 year

Text

I'm sick so this is purely self indulgent

(Please be nice, I don't usually write but I have a lot of ghoul thoughts)

Summary : Phantom gets sick for the first time, Dewdrop decides to take care of him. Nothing more than Ant being an oblivious dumbass and Dew turning into his mom.

Since his first day Top Side, Phantom was always one of the first ghouls awake. He'd already be sitting down at the kitchen table eating his toast when the others would start to slowly appear one by one for eggs or coffee or whatever they needed to start the day.

That morning, Phantom was not up before everyone. In fact he did not even show up at all for breakfast. The unusual change in behavior had one particular fire ghoul worried enough to pay him a visit after his meal.

Dew finds himself in front of the young ghoul's closed door, no light coming from under it and no noise coming from the other side. Maybe Phantom's still asleep. But he's never still asleep at this time.

The fire ghoul knocks after a few seconds of consideration. A small, almost inaudible whimper answers him. He turns the door knob and walks into the room.

The curtains are still closed. There's a faint halo of light emanating from the edges, just enough to cast a dim light on the bed. There lies a truly ridiculous pile of blankets, the only sign of the quintessence ghoul burried within being the gentle rise and fall of said pile. The room, which usually carries Phantom's scent of sunlight and chamomile, smells of something sour.

"Hey..." Dew starts, not quite sure how to handle the situation. He walks closer to the bed as he speaks "What's going on, what's wrong?"

"I don't know" the younger ghoul's voice is shaky and coarse "I just woke up like this. My head feels dizzy, I'm so cold and my nose" he sniffs loudly "it just won't stop leaking."

Now sitting on the edge of the bed, Dew is able to push away enough of the blankets to be able to see Phantom's face and make up the outline of his body. He's curled up on himself, completely shivering.

"Oh shit, I think you might have caught a cold for the first time. I told you to dress up warmer yesterday, it's getting chilly outside."

"How can I catch a temperature?" the tone of absolute confusion in his voice makes the fire ghoul chuckle against his better judgment.

"No baby, it's just a way of saying you got sick. One of the joys of living amongst humans, you can get diseases like them too. It's just a little virus, it'll pass."

"What's a virus?"

Dew's not sure how to answer that question. He's never been one to get into the sciences of it all. He's never been sick himself, one of the pros of being part fire ghoul is that his body runs too hot for most uninvited guests of the sort to thrive.

"I don't... Really know, I've never been sick... I guess it's a thing that lives inside you and tries to like... Kill you?"

"What???" Phantom gives out a truly pathetic squeak and another loud sniff "Am I gonna die? Is that why my nose is leaking, are my insides slowly liquifying?"

"Naaah, takes a whole lot more than a cold to kill a ghoul. But it's gonna royally suck to be alive for a couple days."

"Please just kill me already" the request is accompanied by a series of sad groans as the sick ghoul turns around to bury his head in his pillow.

"Oh don't be so dramatic" Dew gets up the bed and heads towards the door "Stay there, I'll be back."

He hears more groans as he heads into the halway towards the kitchen.

Phantom doesn't move after Dewdrop leaves. His head is in too much of a fuzz, it feels like it's about to explode. He feels truly pathetic and quite frankly gross, laying there with his snot slowly soaking into the pillowcase. When the fire ghoul emerges back in the doorframe, he's carrying a tray with a bowl, a cup, a box and a small container.

"Whas all that?" the quintessence ghoul inquires.

"Sit up" the older ghoul orders. Phantom obeys without arguing but not without a few pathetic whimpers. How dare he be asked to move when he's on the brink of death?

Dew walks back towards the bed and sets the tray on the nightstand before sitting next to his protégé. "That's chicken noodle soup in the bowl. It's the fake kind that come in an envelope but I swear it's just as good. I think the yellow powder's slightly radioactive, it might help kill the virus."

Phantom's eyes go wide and he doesn't have a choice but to explain to him that it's not, in fact, radioactive. The new ghoul is so gullible sometimes. It's adorable.

"The cup's mint tea. Real kind tho, Mountain would probably skin any of us for make tea the wrong way. But you know that. Box is just tissues, it's for your runny nose."

"I thought you said you never got sick?"

"I don't... Why?"

"Well there's a box of it by your bed. Is it in case Rain gets sick?"

"Yup that's it, it's for Rain, enough questions. And that small thing" he grabs the container from the tray and unscrews the lid, putting it directly below the other's nose. The smell is strong, Phantom throws his head back in surprise. "It's to help you breathe better"

Dew dips his fingers into the mixture and rubs it lightly on between the sick ghoul's collar bones. "Thank you"

"You're welcome. Now move over, I need space in there too."

"Hm?"

"Speaking from everyone else's experience, the best way to get over a cold is to cuddle up next to somethin' extra toasty" the quintessence moves enough to allow the older one to settle right next to him. He takes the bowl of soup from the side of the bed and places it carefully in Phantom's lap. "Eat it while it's still warm. Then we can spend all day napping and watching stupid movies, sounds nice?"

"Yeah... Sounds real nice" there the hint of a purr starting up in his chest. Maybe it's not all that bad if he gets the fire ghoul all to himself for an entire day.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghoul #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghost #ghost ficlet #dewdrop ghoul #phantom ghost #meerkat writes

200 notes · View notes

hawkins-losers · 2 years

Text

I think we kissed but I forgot | Robin Buckley x Harrington!Reader

Summary: Robin wakes up in her crush’s bed

Word count: 1.5k

Request: Can I get ‘’I’m scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I’m with you.’’ with Robin?

A/N: I’ve been working on this since September...kinda forgot about it

Holy shit, Robin slipped as she woke up in someone else's bed – naked. Not just someone's bed, Steve's sister's bed.

Your back was turned to her, soundly sleeping on your silk pillowcase. Your side of the covers had been kicked during the night and your sleep shirt had ridden up, uncovering your butt. Robin's cheeks went hot, trying to look away but failing. It was just as nice up close than all the times she had caught a glimpse of it in the P.E. changing rooms.

Robin was trying not to freak out, but how can you not freak out when you wake up naked next to the girl you had a crush on for over two years?

She'll forever remember the way you had tapped her shoulder in English class and sweetly asked if you could borrow a pen from her. The moment had been rom-com-esque, but Robin never had the guts to make a move or talk to you outside that class, too scared you would make fun of her or reject her – which sounded terrifying for a closeted band girl who has a hard time making friends.

Now that she had become best friends with Steve, you by default snaked your way into her life. Robin couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing. On one hand, she got to see you and talk to you in less anxiety inducing situations – like school. It also increased the possibilities of making a total fool of herself in front of you.

The odds turned in her favor because you took a liking into her. All of your secret moments in a crowded room were engraved in Robin's mind. The many fits of laughter and inside jokes she and you shared. Every time her name would fall from your tongue, everything would just stop. And when you tucked her hair behind her ear the other night, Robin combusted.

She was falling so deep and fast for you, which was making this confusing wake up so much more difficult for her.

How did she end up in that situation? It wasn't in Robin's habits to wake up in someone else's bed with barely any memories from the previous night. Perhaps it was the beer she had last night?

''Don't think too hard, it'll make your hangover worse.''

Your voice snapped Robin out of her mind, having not realized you were awake. Her eyes went into panic mode and she pulled the comforter over her bare chest, feeling body-shy. At least her panties were still on, shielding her intimate part.

There was a lazy smile on your face as you looked at her, the sunlight turning her shoulder golden. ''Good morning, beautiful.''

Robin's cheeks turned red, fighting a smile. No one had ever called her that.

Instead of saying 'good morning too', Robin's mouth began word-vomiting – and it wouldn't stop. ''I don't think morning is the appropriate term of time to be using as it's almost noon and noon is not part of morning. Not in that sense. It's part of lunch, but we can't say 'good lunch' because that's phonically wrong and only to be used when someone is going on lunch break or to get lunch-''

A soft laugh spilled from your lips, listening to her nervous rambling. ''What should I say, then?'' you asked, staring up into her blue eyes.

''I-I don't know...'' she stammered, a little tongue tied from your shameless flirting and the way you were looking at her.

''Are you getting all shy on me?'' You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping on your face. ''You weren't so shy last night when you were dancing on tables – that's where you lost your shirt.''

Sheer horror flashed in Robin's eyes. Oh god. This was worse than she thought... Dancing on tables and stripping was I-want-to-cralw-in-a-hole-and-die type of embarrassing. It's the kind of thing that earns you an ascend to being the main subject of town gossip for months.

You nudged your knee against hers, grinning. ''I'm joking, babe.''

The term of endearment sent a kaleidoscope in Robin's stomach. This was superior to 'beautiful' in her books. She wanted to scream into a pillow.

Instead, she wacked you in the face with it for making her think she had made a fool of herself last night. On a positive note, she won't have to explain to her mother why people are calling her 'sugar-tits' in the street.

You broke into laughter as the pillow hit you, catching it and tugging on it, causing Robin to lose balance and topple on top of you. The harsh movement had made her hair fall in her face. You reached out and brushed them off of her eyes, making eye contact as you did.

''You did, however, kiss me after I drunkenly serenaded you with Madonna's Crazy for You.''

''I kissed you?'' It sounded almost impossible.

You nodded, ghosting your fingers up and down Robin's ribcage, reminding her that she was still very naked now that she wasn't holding the comforter and that you could see her tits in all their glory. You didn't pay them any attention though.

''It was a very nice kiss.'' You glanced down at her lips, then back to her eyes, dying to taste her again.

Robin didn't remember – unfortunately.

''How- Did we..?'' She felt timid to ask, but she needed to know.

You shook your head, sensing Robin's train of thoughts. ''We didn't do anything.''

She breathed a sigh of relief. She already did not remember your first kiss, she didn't want to also not remember your first time. That would've been an utter bummer – and very sad.

''Just some making out and heavy petting,'' you continued, dragging your finger over her freckled thigh up to her knee, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. She was so reactive to your touch. ''You even made your mark on me.'' You pulled at the collar of your shirt, revealing a small hickey.

Robin's cheeks turned red. She wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Her drunk-self was more daring – wilder – than sober Robin. ''I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mark you like that. I don't even know how to give hickeys! I don't know what took me, I'm never drinking again, I-''

You put a finger over her lips to silence her rambling and shook your head. ''Don't apologize. I like it...a lot.''

''You do?''

You nodded, hooking the finger that was on Robin's lips under her chin, tilting it and capturing her lips into a kiss.

The delicate touch alone made Robin's brain fog, completely new to this kind of affection. She had kissed some boy during a game of spin the bottle when she was eleven, but it had been a peck. This kiss was...she didn't know how to describe it. All she knew was that it invaded all her senses and she could only focus on your mouth against hers, moving slowly and tenderly.

Then, your stomach started gurgling.

You pulled back, making Robin whine at the loss of contact, wishing you had kissed her longer. ''Do you want to go down and get breakfast?'' you asked, playing with the short hair at the back of her neck.

Robin shook her head.

''Are you not hungry?''

''No. It's not that. I...''

''What is it, then?''

The sweetness in your voice made her pliant and she hated it.

''I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you. This, kissing in bed with you, feels like a dream. I've wanted this for so long. I don't want this moment to end, I don't want us to end once we walk out that door.''

Robin hated being vulnerable and talking about her feelings and emotions. It gave people material to tease her, to make fun of her. She felt a little safer with you, though. Unlike most, she knew you wouldn't use her words against her.

However, confessing something of the sort still made her nervous.

''What if I told you I'll still want to kiss you after breakfast? Would you come down for breakfast, then?'' You raised an eyebrow, waiting for her answer. ''Perhaps we could come back here and cuddle.''

Robin's eyes lifted slowly, meeting yours. ''Y-yeah?''

You nodded. ''I don't have any plans today. I'm all yours – if you want me.''

''I want you. I mean, not like that. Well, maybe like that, but I don't think I'm ready for sex yet and-'' You chuckled at her rambling. Robin stopped, realizing you had caught what she meant and she could shut up now. ''Breakfast. Let's go make breakfast. But first, can I borrow some clothes? Steve and I are best friends, but I don't feel comfortable being naked in his presence.''

When you and Robin came down for breakfast, Steve was in the kitchen with a terrible bed head, emptying cans of beers from last night into the sink. He greeted you both, noticing but kindly not pointing out that Robin was wearing a shirt that wasn't hers and that she had slept over – not in the guest room.

Taglist: @broadway-or-noway @violetsleftfist @thelaststraw3 @cursedandromedablack @Slashersimpfor @savagejane1 @wh0reforbucknasty @eddiemunson-slut @slvdsjjk @hehehehannahthings @dreamdancers-world @eddiemunsonbby @notbeforelong @lexi-2004 @violetrainbow412-blog @tatespillows @alwayslexii @lilygreennn @milkiane @imahomeslice @bunnygrl16 @cwritesforfun @marauders3rawh0re @your-mom21 @parkersmyth @voguesir @milkiane @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @lilygreennn @alexxavicry @charlie-chick @wandamaximoffs-deadchild @horrorstreet @rmeddar123 @pastel-abyss-x @lil-tracys @luvmybbies @chloepricesgrafitimarker @inluvweddiemunson @i-like-trains @kittenfrostt @simp-for-slasher @m-rae23 @kenzi-woycehoski @amberputh @sea040561

Robin Buckley taglist: @uhidklol-26 @prettyplant0 @ran-rap @eddiemvunsongf @batorchids222 @scarlet-kazuha @saphmoth @uhidklol-26 @you-makeme-crazier-blog @spongebob-in-the-upsidedown @swiftbyul @xenon54xe @tribute-101 @starstruckspring @whyamihere2673 @moonlight-imagines @p40l44 @moonlight-imagines @ofherscarlettwitchways @pastelbabygirl19 @eddiemunsonbby @bitterbyfletcher @i-could-be-lonely-with-you @chrisxevans-seb @robinbuckleyluvr @lol-lol—idk @satinselenite @missmaxmayfield @soph69420world @nancewheelersworld @nluvwitheddiemunson @psychoticauthor @amelies-a-simp @stephylovesmayahawke @ilovetaylorswift1 @stormyparker @thechoiceslookgrimm @yourfavdummy @amberputh @jonathanbyersbbg @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @eddiescvmslvt

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things s4

910 notes · View notes

octuscle · 11 months

Note

im a skinny 18 year old nerd from nyc. i was skinny & about 5 foot 1 inches tall with an iq 160 who have to spend the summer on a farm in Kansas with my uncle & cousins who are twins the same age as me. my uncle drove me back to his farm when we got there i saw my cousins who look like normal corn fed Kansas farm boys both are at least 6 feet 3 inches tall in height and is broad-shouldered and muscular in build they both play football however they both have an iq of 160 , when they took off their shirts i saw they both have 6 pack abs , substantial pecs and arms. they told me all the guys our age in town even the nerds in this small Kansas town has a 6 pack, substantial pecs and arms& are also broad-shouldered cause even the nerds work on farms & have to join the football team so they could get into college. they took me to the spare bedroom told me soon i will be a corn fed Kansas farm boy like them then they inject me with something as they soon did i fell onto the spare bedroom's large oak-framed bed with a mattress smelling strongly of sweat and faintly of dirt, my plop onto it showed a plume of dust through the filtered mid-afternoon sunlight coming in through the only break in the sky-blue walls : a rickety old window with heavily dusty, half-closed shutters. If i hadn't been injected with something, i might have had second thoughts about sleeping in this bedroom for how stereotypically country it was. With my head cradled by the handmade quilts and pillowcases, i very quickly drifted off to sleep, my cousins took off my nerdy clothes& briefs & put a jockstrap & boxers on. my mind filled with stranger dreams than ever, things including trucks and beer to mud and boots. All the while, my body was losing a battle against invading testosterone which turned from my inferior nerdy DNA into my cousins 's better nerd jock hybrid DNA which means im no longer cousins with my cousins im now brothers with them we are now identical triplets . , which would result in a rude awakening in the morning. i woke up the next morning a changed MAN. Still reeling from the odd dreams, i stepped over to the mirror. And i screamed! my body had changed overnight from the injection i now look like a corn fed Kansas farm boy like my now brother threw open my closet, only to find that my nerdy outfits were gone. They were replaced with boot cut wrangler jeans, stained tee shirts, baseball caps, and musty cowboy boots! Ugh! And instead of underwear there were boxers and jock straps! After breakfast, we all went and worked out. Then we headed to work. i drove a tractor and plowed the field. After lunch we saddled up the horses and rode through the ranch. . After that we went to the football game, and i was the new linebacker. my & my brothers were both nerd & jocks & also farmboy with genius iqs all 3 of us got into Harvard on a football scholarship

Buddy, this is not a question in the strict sense of the word… Great story… But no question… What should I answer?

Whatever: the corn was good to ya. Ya're a freakin' muscle stud! 'n aah don't reckon harvard is fo-wah ya. Aah see ya more own the west coast. UCSB or Stanford… but that's your choice. Best wishes to your hot brothers 'n have a great day!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #male transformation #muscle transformation #inked man #redneck tf

145 notes · View notes

canadiannationalfox · 10 days

Text

Murder Drones Fanfic - Birds at My Window - A Tessa Story

The sun's light streamed in through the stained glass windows of the room facing the courtyard of the Elliott Manor. A very upset 8-and-a-half-year old Tessa was locked away in the room with some books and tea and scones.

She didn't fully understand what happened to cause this, running back the memories from earlier that morning.

------------------------ "Mother, Mother look!" Tessa exclaimed as she had run to her parents' room, she proudly brandished a quilt-style pillow cover she had spent the night sewing because she felt like it.

Louisa, the matriarch of the Elliott family and the JC Jensen company, begrudgingly turned her attention away from preparing to get ready to go to a company golf tournament. "What is ever so important that you need my attention right now!?"

Tessa's shoulders drooped as she looked down sadly. Her tone changed to a more worried voice, "I... I made a pillow cover..."

Louisa looked over in annoyance, only one side of her face had the right amount of blush on it. She studied the pretty pillow case Tessa had made before turning back to face the mirror as she responded dully, "There's nothing in this house that is 1950s cottage core kitschy, young lady, it's ugly."

Tessa turned the pillow case inside-out to show the stitching pattern. "But Mother, it's the same blanket-stitch Grandmother taught me."

Louisa sighed as she turned her attention back to her daughter before remarking sternly, "I'm trying to get ready to go, and..." she paused as she looked at the cozy looking pillow case before she snapped in anger, "IS THAT FABRIC FROM MY STRAWBERRY PRINT BLOUSE?!"

The dark haired girl backed up a little in fright upon seeing her mother raise her fan up to hit the girl. "I.... I thought you didn't like that one anymore... You had it in the clothes you were going to hand down to me."

Louisa's eye twitched in anger. "Well, it WAS going to be for you, and then you cut it up!" She recomposed herself and she calmly said, "Tessa James Elliott, I want you to come with me."

Tessa followed her Mother down a corridor, to the back of the mansion where there was a single hexagonal room in a back spire that looked over the gardens, swamp, and courtyard. Tessa liked this room, it was her favourite room besides her bedroom since her Dad's robots would bring her here to read books or paint pictures. She stepped into the room to see if there were any maid or butler drones to play with, she skipped into the room, still holding the pillowcase, but she heard a slam from behind her and then the turning of a lock.

Tessa turned around and shouted, "Mother! I'm trapped! Help!"

There was no response from the outside.

--------------------------

"They were going to leave me home alone... why did they have to lock me in the spire room?" the grey-eyed girl sobbed as she pondered over what she could've done. It didn't make sense to her about the idea of her being punished for cutting up and using a blouse for a sewing project if the blouse was going to be hers one day.

She walked over to the kettle of strawberry tea and poured herself a cup before adding from the crystalline bowl 3 cubes of sugar. Tessa somberly walked to the window ledge seat and sat down, the skirt of her blue dress puffing slightly. She sighed sorrowfully as she looked out to the garden below.

"It's not fair... I know I would've been left home alone, but now I have to wait for Mother and Father to come back, and that could be hours..."

She looked out to the beautiful spring day. Normally it would rain and storm, but today there was sunshine and flowers blooming, there were squirrels running in the trees and song birds singing. "I wish I could be out there," she mourned to herself, gently running her hands over her right braid in an attempt to soothe her dismayed heart.

Tessa remembered her book of fairytales she would often read and she opened one of the window panels beside her. She got one of her cranberry scones and crumbled some of it on the window ledge before she went and sat on the opposite side of the bench along side the window.

She watched and waited, seeing chickadees in the trees, and some robins and sparrows, yet none came close to her windowsill. The dark haired girl looked down sadly. She felt almost like crying, because not only was she locked up but now not even a bird wanted to be near her. Her pretty eyes dropped tears, that caught the sun's light, onto the skirt of her dress.

Suddenly, a strikingly beautiful blue-coloured bird landed on a branch, in the tree near the window. Its head crest was fluffy and cute and its belly was white as snow.

Tessa looked to the bird. "Cyanocitta," she thought to herself, some of her sadness replaced with awe and adoration for the pretty little bird. She sweetly sang a song her Grandmother had taught her the last time she had visited, "Little bird, little bird, fly around, Up to the sky, down to the ground. Little bird, little bird, flap your wings. Open your beak and sweetly sing." before adding her own stanza, "Little bird, little bird, I wish to fly away, over hill and over dale and free I shall stay."

The blue jay chirped and hopped along the branch closer to the window. It studied the crumbs on the window ledge before it hopped up to the sill. The pretty little blue and white bird pecked at the crumbs.

Tessa smiled in excitement at the bird. She had never seen a bird this close before. She gently scooched closer for a better look, and then closer still. She had still a piece of scone, holding it in her hand as an offering to the bird.

The blue jay hopped over, tilting its little head curiously at the offering. It flapped its wings before landing on Tessa's white gloved hand and started eating the cranberries off the top of the baked-good.

Tessa was excited, but she knew any sudden movement would scare the bird. She sat still, but moved her thumb a little closer to the bird, gently rubbing it's tail feathers.

The bird trilled and clicked before it went back to eating.

Tessa marveled happily at the bird perched on her hand. "Maybe this isn't so bad," she thought to herself, watching the beautiful blue jay as it dined upon the offering.

The bird faced Tessa, let out a long chirp and then flew back to the ledge.

She put the remaining pieces of scone it left behind on the windowsill, watch the bird take what it wanted before flying away. She waved softly and whispered, "Goodbye little, blue jay. Take care."

She spent the afternoon reading and drinking tea until one of the maid drones that was supposed to clean that room came and unlocked the door. "Oh, Miss Tessa! I didn't know you were still here," the drone greeted with a slight curtsey.

"Oh, that's alright 117," she didn't like the numbers the drones had, it made her sad none had names, she lied to the worker drone, "I got locked in here by accident, thanks for unlocking the door."

117 let Tessa out of the room, and Tessa went down to the kitchen to steal some peaches and plum pudding from the pantry since she was extremely hungry since she had fed her scones to the birds.

At dinner time, Tessa sat at the grand dining room table with her Father, Mother, and some other higher-ups from JC Jensen that were James Elliott's golf buddies.

James looked to his daughter and smiled as he asked, "And how was your day, Lady Tessa?" He was unaware of what had happened.

"I accidentally got locked in the spire, and I read books and watched birds."

Louisa was relieved that Tessa didn't say what honestly happened.

One of James' friends, George, from the Drone Department chimed in with a chortle, "I think your little girl needs a drone of her own, James. Then she would have an assistant."

Louisa's eyes gleamed at the thought. "That sounds splendid, George, and then she would have someone to keep her occupied," which was her rude way of saying that she didn't like dealing with Tessa and she wanted more time away from the girl.

Tessa piped up excitedly at the aspect of finally having someone that she could spend time with and play with and show her sewing and paintings to, "Father, can I have a drone? Please?"

James leaned over to his daughter who sat to the right of him. He lightly tapped his gloved finger on her nose and responded, "Tell you what, we can work on one together, I have some that need repairs, so then it'd be exclusively yours."

Louisa even smiled at the idea.

Tessa got excited and suggested, "Well I have some ideas then, and I look forward to learning about drones and building one with you."

The day came, and Tessa and her father spent all day in the garage working on parts of a drone that had stopped working after it's head had "mysteriously" popped off.

Louisa came into the room as her husband and daughter were doing software checks on the drone that was sitting up-right but not awake yet. She brought in a box and handed it to Tessa.

Tessa opened the box curiously and tore away the tissue paper. She trilled excitedly as she saw the contents of the box, "A PRETTY WIG FOR MY DRONE! Oh thank you, Mother." She turned to her Dad and pleaded excitedly, "Father, can you put it on her?"

James laughed a little before he ruffled Tessa's hair kindly. "Of course I can, Little Missy," he charmed before he took the synthetic silver ponytailed wig out of the box and snapped it into the wig clips on the robot. He smiled happily, "There, it's a bit creepy but, if it makes you happy."

Louisa chimed in with a slight snide tone, "Maybe then she'll learn how to do her own hair by practicing on the drone?"

Tessa's eyes lit up, she excitedly giggle, "It'll be like having a living doll!" she put her hand up to the LED screen of the drone that was starting to boot up. "Oh Jade Jessica Elliott, you're going to be the most wonderful friend!"

"Sweetie, I don't think it's wise to name a drone," Louisa chimed in worriedly, she pulled out her fan and fanned herself to get rid of the feeling of shock.

"Your mother is right..." James soothed as he put his hands on Tessa's shoulders, "If you accidentally break your robot, and we have to buy you a new one, you'd be very sad if she had a proper name, right?"

Tessa looked down sadly. She pleaded, "but.... I want her to have some sort of name... I want her to respond when I call."

James and Louisa looked at each other worriedly before the Father suggested, "What if we call the robot by a letter? That could work."

Tessa thought to herself, her legs swinging because she was sitting on a high up chair to be able to work at the bench. She thought about the blue jay she saw the other day. She giggled happily and then turned her attention to the robot girl who was now starting to open her platinum LED eyes, the shine from the light reflecting off of her fringe of bangs.

The robot girl tilted her head slightly at the first thing she was ever seeing.

Tessa spoke softly in a welcoming and kind voice, "Welcome to the world, J. I'm Tessa, I can't wait for us to spend time together.

The End.

#murder drones fanfic #murder drones #tessa x j (platonic)#serial designation j #tessa james elliot #james elliott #louisa elliott #tessa james elliott #tessa murder drones #omfg this one #sad #cute #bluejay #blue jay #birds

22 notes · View notes