#old lady. because the clothes they wear have these circles on them but they feel too much like holes to me and i have to cover them with | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zestyaahbutler · 1 year

Text

Integra's Mom Lore Post

DISCLAIMER: suicide, mental illness, rape, and questionable dynamics, will all be present themes.

Hellsing is a story about people that are never entirely good or people who make bad decisions. Nothing will be discussed in too much explicit detail. But read at your own discretion and I hope everyone enjoys Amulya.

Amulya Hellsing is a twenty-two-year-old Indian woman who met Arthur Hellsing in 1973. She grew up in Mumbai and is the only child of a couple. She met Arthur while he was on a trip in the densely populated city. They would later be engaged shortly after her trip and she was brought back to England with him. They married after a year and she would get pregnant two years later. She gave birth to Integra in 1977 and later passed in 1980.

Personality:

Amulya is a quiet young lady but when she is interacted with, people will find she is actually very opinionated and talkative. She can be seen as sassy and doesn’t hesitate to stand up against anyone that is addressing her flaws directly. She is sensitive when it is behind her back because she can’t do much about it. Even with her ability to retaliate, she is an incredibly sensitive girl that is prone to overthinking. She can come off as clingy but means well and wants the best for anyone she is attached to.

Looks:

Amilya is a 5 foot Indian woman. She has a slim body frame with more generous portions in her hips and backend while she is on the smaller side on top. Her skin is darker than Intera’s. She has big doe eyes that are innocent but can easily guilt someone into whatever she is playing for. Her eyes have more pigmentation on them which makes her have dark circles around them. Her smile makes her look a little cat-like. She boasts long black hair that hits right around mid booty. It is very curly and well-kept. Her bangs are long and aren’t styled in any particular manner. Her bangs cover the bindi she will occasionally wear unless she pushes them out of the way. She experiments with a wide range of hairstyles but will stick with just keeping it down if she is at home. Her style ranges from 70s Western fashion, Bollywood type of outfits, to saris depending on her mood. She loves jewelry and is drawn to elaborate earrings and interestingly patterned clothes.

Story and Background:

Amulya grew up in a conservative family which practiced Hinduism. Being the only daughter, she was being raised to become a homemaker. When she was 13, she was kidnapped by an older man who wanted her as her bride. She was kept isolated for a year while he assaulted her and tried to get her to share his perverted delusions. As a way of survival, she pretended to be in love with him. With this, she was able to leave the house one day to go to the market by herself. She took this as a chance to find her way back home. She arrived home to see her parents, completely relieved to have survived such an event. Instead of much of any sentiment, her parents almost completely rejected her. Her story to them was heartbreaking but it meant she was damaged and unable to marry. She would still live with them but their relationship was strained. They barely acknowledged her besides helping them provide for the household and with chores. As any young girl, she made friends growing up but still never let go of that feeling of being unwanted or loneliness. She secretly was always yearning for some chance to be better for herself and to make her parents proud. Whenever she was 22 she had a chance meeting with Arthur Hellsing when he was on a trip in the city she lived in. She was out shopping for herself and he started to chat her up.

His original advances were rejected by Amulya. She didn’t take his flirtations seriously. It wasn’t till a few other meetings during his time there that she began to warm up to him. She became enamored by his accent, humor, and eccentric personality. He was unlike anyone she had met. He made attempts to woo her further with expensive gifts which she tried to push back on. It was an overwhelming set of advances. This was on dates where they began to spend more and more time together. By the end of his trip, he popped the question to her as he would be sad to not see her anymore and hoped she felt the same. Without thinking much about it and considering her own feelings, she agreed to the arrangement. Amulya was able to tell her parents about the news. They were put off by their daughter running off with an older man till Arthur offered to pay them off for the troubles. With that she was off to England for a new start in life.

Her engagement to Arthur was short, lasting 6 months till they later married after she was brought back to England. Everyone in the organization and people affiliated with Arthur were all equally surprised by his sudden commitment.

Amulya wore a traditional wedding Sari with numerous kinds of gold jewelry. The ceremony was a mix of western tradition with Indian ones. Arthur planned the wedding closely with her. This even meant ever so slightly pressuring Pennwood into supplying some extra funds for the event for his dear old friend. Amulya’s family would not be present at the wedding.

Amulya was given no exact knowledge of what Hellsing truly was. It was a few years after Alucard had been sealed. To her knowledge, it was just an extra special military branch. Arthur did his best to shield her from knowledge of the supernatural out of not wanting her to worry and partly wanting to have a normal domestic marriage.

Moving to England felt like a dream but the rose tinted glasses would fade. Not that she wasn’t ecstatic, she was but it brought a new kind of loneliness. She had no family or friends. She only had her husband to support her emotional needs. While she wanted to go to school, Arthur offered her a private tutor which only fostered that loneliness and isolation. Having a whole new culture to assimilate added new stress. She was judged for both her age and race. Almost anyone she was exposed to was an aristocratic British person. Comments made about her or Arthur behind her back often ate away at her.

Her servant was even switched by Arthur to Walter after a debacle with her last attendant which she never knew much about. Walter tended to her as best he could while he had his own work. If Amulya was bored or wanted someone to talk to, she would go to chat up the maids or pester him in his office. She was tenacious with the man and tested him during their conversations. Part of her wanted to see how genuine the butler persona was while she also just wanted to have fun. From asking him which color earrings she should wear and debate as to why, or pulling him out to have tea with her in random parts of the day, she made sure to push how much he could deal with her. While he did put up a polite front, it cracked if she pressed hard enough. Eventually he came to not mind her and even enjoy her personality more as time went on. He never reported to Arthur about Amulya pestering him during work as time went on.

Amulya took up many hobbies to pass the time. She read often about anything she could get her hands on. Her favorite was botany which made her take up gardening. Her and Walter had a routine of spending time there. This caused mindless conversations between them. Without realizing what he had implied, Walter mentioned his time as a child soldier. Amulya became sympathetic and concerned that Arthur had sent Walter out in a military mission at 14. Suspicion started to arise and it caused an argument between her and Arthur. Walter got to hear Arthur scold him about slipping up around her.

Walter misconstrued the young lady’s concern as pity but this was cleared up later after a late evening conversation. While he didn’t disclose much about the organization, he became more and more personable with Amulya. Amulya did the same. She often discussed her mental state with him and daily stressors as it was somehow easier. More complex feelings would arise in the butler unbeknownst to her.

Amulya suspicions added as Arthur went on numerous nightly trips because of mission related purposes which he could never exactly tell her was for.

Amulya would get pregnant with Integra two years later in 1976. Her pregnancy was very healthy. However, near the final trimester, Arthur decided to spring it up on her that Integra would become the successor in the Hellsing family. He also explained what Hellsing was, that the paranormal was real, and the vampire they have in the basement. Amulya did not take this wel in the slightest. Her world had turned itself inside out at this. She felt a mix of betrayal and fear. She wondered what kind of world Integra would be brought into. What world had she been in? Arthur and Walter both felt the full brunt of her displeasement. She warmed up to it slightly when Integra was born in 1977. Integra’s birth brought even more difficulties to Amulya’s overall health. She experienced postpartum depression. She was exhausted from giving birth and her mental state had never been the best. She had to get a ton of help from nannies, maids, and Walter with helping the care of Integra. There would be many times that she felt she couldn’t hold Integra just because she was too scared to. She had numerous intrusive thoughts of wanting to hurt herself or strangle Integra. The fear of this ever actually happening made it incredibly hard to connect with her. She adored Integra, feared her, and worried for her. She became more reliant on Walter as Arthur became busier with work. Arthur did pay attention to Integra but heavily relied on people he employed to help Amulya.

Over the next two years, Amulya would get better with caring for Integra on her own. Walter helping with Integra and assisting Amulya while she was emotionally vulnerable made her more attached to him. While she was getting better, she was still prone to depressive episodes and even attempting suicide.

While in an emotionally vulnerable state, she came onto Walter to somehow get any kind of support. Walter rejected her advances in respect for her not being all the way there at the moment and for her marital status.

Whenever Integra was three, she seemed to be fairly normal for a long time. But she was in the process of planning on a definite way to take her own life. She slit her wrists in a bathtub and died on December 17th, 1980.

Mental Health Comments:

Amulya was always a fragile woman. While she was incredibly strong in certain situations, her past and emotional vulnerability always ate away at her. There was always that feeling of being weak and being considered damaged goods. Her reason for suicide was feeling trapped almost. She even had thoughts of taking Integra and just leaving. But she loves Arthur deeply and wouldn’t do that. She was worried that even if she was there for Integra, that she would be more of a burden and even hurt her more.

Her mental health was dealable until Arthur decided to unleash nonhuman horror beyond her comprehension.

Her death was the way to explain why she isn’t brought up. I don’t think Integra would know how her mother died, just that she was extremely sick.

Arthur Stuff:

Arthur and her dynamic is sweet. They both truly do love each other. Whenever he was planning their wedding, he wanted her to incorporate her culture as long as she was comfortable. He never forced her into acting a certain way. He also always encouraged her to wear whatever she was comfortable with. While he was understanding, he never got the full understanding of how other people aside from him could make her feel.

Inspiration:

Stories Featuring Amulya:

Amulya’s life as a young girl is inspired by an Indian novel called ‘Pinjar’ or Skeleton by Amrita Pritam. It’s about a young girl who is abducted by an older man. Ending she does end up marrying and living with her rapist.

More Info On Her:

Amulya and Walter

Those That Grow in Their Place

Amulya Hellsing Artwork:

Initial Concept

Just me Talking:

Doodles

Her and Integra

If you guys have any further questions about her, I’d be happy to go more in-depth. I just wanted to give a quick rundown. It doesn’t go into the full psychology and emotions along with it because I would rather people ask questions. My inbox is always open and I don’t bite. :D

I would also like to deeply thank everyone who liked and reblogged my first post on her. It made my heart melt to find out people were interested in her. She is a ton of fun to think about and develop. She is a tragic character but I hope people like her nonetheless. She is very cute when she isn’t suffering!

#hellsing #hellsing oc #hellsing ultimate #walter dornez #amulya hellsing #integra hellsing #hellsing ova #Arthur hellsing #Integras mom #sir integra #integra fairbrook wingates hellsing #I have a shitpost to go along with this tbh #walter c dornez #tysm to anyone who reads this all the way through!

42 notes · View notes

peppertaemint · 11 months

Note

Dear Peppertaemint,

I sort of think of you as an expert when it comes to K-Pop, media literacy and topics that deal with queer themes, given your writings on Taemin's work for example. I hope my inquiry won't be considered a waste of time because I know you don't deal with silliness in your inbox, but I will try my luck.

I will admit that I keep up a bit with the BTS members, albeit scarcely. I happened to read on twitter (known as X now) that through his artistic expression, Taehyung is either indicating he is queer or perhaps a suporter (an ally just like Valentina) of the community. All that is supposedly apparent in his first solo music video, with references to queer cinema or the clothes he's wearing for a photoshoot. Of course, this is not the first time this has been speculated in online circles. I'll post a link at the end of this message so you could get an idea of what I'm trying to explain.

What I would wish for is a more unbiased opinion from someone with vast knowledge and a cultural background and who doesn't feel the need to prove anything about their bias. At least I think he's not your bias. Please correct me if I'm wrong.

I'm looking forward to your response. As always 🩷

Sincerely

Lady A. Assante

https://twitter.com/polyatannies/status/1689591513032900608?t=Kp20X2STVljKh0RDs7MNVg&s=19

Hello Lady A. Assante,

Despite there being a high probability that this ask is a put-on, I’m going to take it at face value and reply in earnest.

I looked at the link you sent, which was a tweet of a Russian video purporting to tie the films Velvet Goldmine (1998) and Jubilee (1978) to Taehyung’s recent MV and, seemingly, his identity. I can’t read the Russian blocks of text in the video, but I can see the split-screen shots comparing Tae to characters in Velvet Goldmine. I can also see that Taehyung appears to wear a shirt of the film Jubilee in a promotional photo.

Now, I’m old enough to have been around when Velvet Goldmine came out; it’s a film about sexuality and aesthetics in the glam rock era, and it not-so-subtlety tells, at least in part, a take on the long time rumour of David Bowie and Mick Jagger’s liaison as lovers during glam rock days. In all honesty, I cannot see how this film in any way, shape, or form, has any relation to Taehyung’s “Love Me Again” MV beyond perhaps they both involve sequinned outfits.

“Love Me Again” is a slightly moody, barebones MV of Taehyung singing in a Spanish cave surrounded by retro items. His hair is a golden mess, while his clothes are cheap sequin getups with golden chains around his neck. Tae is moody in his MV, but he’s no glam rocker. He’s a crooner lost in time and confused. He ends the MV practically disgruntled. For me, the through line of the exotic setting, the props and the styling doesn’t quite come through. So, there wasn’t a lot for me to take away from Taehyung’s MV, but when all his MVs are released, I will watch them in order and share my thoughts. Again, I don’t see any meaningful relation between these two works. And certainly I don’t see anything overtly queer about Taehyung’s MV. If someone wants to come with concrete examples of “he said X” or “he did X” or “he wore X,” then I can consider such things.

And about his clothes: Derek Jarman was an important gay rights activist in the UK. But his activism was, more generally, in the 1980s onward, and focused on certain laws that effected education in the UK as well as raising awareness of the AIDS epidemic. These are very important works, especially to me living in Britain as a queer person. However, the film Jubilee is not about that work. It’s a punk film in response to the Queen’s Jubilee in 1977, and it presents a dystopian future of monarchical Britain and features some of the best punk bands of the time, including The Slits and Adam and the Ants. That shirt is about the punk movement - an important movement in Britain to be sure, but it isn’t centred on queerness.

My advice to Kpop fans looking for queerness in Kpop is to start with those who are doing concrete things in the genre: Holland and OnlyOneOf are a great place to start. Then you can look at Taemin, Key and SHINee as a whole, and reach out from there. SHINee’s “My Identity” from the album Hard (2023) was played at Seoul pride this year. I’d really recommend having a listen. And before a critical interloper writes in to say that everything queer must be cryptically coded because SK isn’t safe for LGBT+; I’m very aware of the rights people are lacking in SK. However, there are levels to meanings in art, and every artist has their own comfort zone when it comes to what they wish to share, and what they wish to be “unlock-able,” and what they wish to keep firmly for themselves. What I don’t think is helpful is conspiracy-level theories about art being queer-coded. That’s because art is already meant to interact with its audience; what a piece of art means to you is what is the most important. If you find something that speaks to your queer side in Taehyung’s work, than for you, that’s what his work is. That doesn’t mean his identity matches yours. There’s no need for that. That’s the beauty of art.

As a postscript, this shot here is exactly what reminds me of Key’s solo work: spooky retro style. That’s Key’s signature, which has been a personal extension of certain works in SHINee’s oeuvre (like “Married to the Music”). What remains unclear for me is what this union of elements signifies for Taehyung.

#Taehyung Ask #I won’t tag it beyond that #ask #kpop ask #kpop and queerness #art theory

19 notes · View notes

safetycar-restart · 1 year

Note

(Slight angst: Charles hires a cleaner who assumes the box filled with dead flowers and rocks and receipts and old Christmas cards should be thrown out)

Shels you're breaking my heart but this is so good.. You're a genius! I feel like I haven't wrote any angst for too long soo let's go

Maybe you're not home when Charles finds out that his box is gone. He's back after another gp, it's a little after noon. Charles just got back to your apartment and is unpacking his suitcase. All clothes, toiletries and that little rock he took with himself just to have something connected with you near. He feels a bis subby already so he wants to put it back to his box and watch his little presents for a bit. But the box is nowhere to be seen. But that's okay, maybe you moved it somewhere else. It's only when he's searched the entire bedroom and even the living room and kitchen and can't find it that he starts to panic.

He doesn't want to call you because he thinks it's stupid to bother you while you're at work, so he's just waiting for you to come back. Of course you can do something about it, mommy can fix anything, right?

So when you come home, you expect a longing Charles throwing himself into your arms with happy sqeaks. What you don't expect is upset and crying Charles. You ask him what's wrong and he tells you that his box is gone. You're a little surprised because you didn't touch it. So you calm down your baby and when the tears are gone you go searching together. But it turns out that it really is gone.

You have no idea what might have happened, so your first thought is to call the cleaning lady and tells you she threw them away. She thought it was just garbage. You're terrified because you know how much it all meant to Charles, and your heart breaks at the thought of having to tell him the truth. But you have to do you so.

After telling him, the expected breakdown occurs. So you let Charles cry in your arms, you try to bring him as much comfort as possible, so you kiss his face and brush calming circles on his back. And he just lies in your arms, clutching the little rock he has left.

Finally, when he calmed down, he may come to the conclusion that this stone will be his special one and after that he wears it with him everywhere. And you're helping him rebuild his collection of little gifts

- 🪸

Aw yes I love this! Well no it's terrible and heartbreaking but that's why I love it! I feel like it's been a while since we've had some good old Charles angst so it's definitely time for this :))

You not being home when Charles finds out is terrible! The poor thing is so panicked. Especially because he was already feeling small and subby and lonely, that's why he was looking for his little box in the first place.

Maybe he had just gotten back from a double header and you hadnt been able to be with him at all so he had gone SO long without his mommy (sidetone: you have a rule that if it's a triple header you MUST find a way to meet up, even if that means Charles travels to you or you meet in the middle, three weeks is simply too long for him).

He had his Little Rock with him, the one you got him on your first walk. Honestly you gave it to him as a joke but it's now one of his most prized possessions and he always keeps it in his suitcase.

But he was so relieved to be home and he needed a little more than his rock. He actually wanted you, because of course he did, but he understood that you were busy and would come home as soon as you could.

So he unpacked his suitcase like a good boy (you make a rule that he has to unpack his suitcase the moment he gets home otherwise his clothes won't get washed in time for when he needs them again), and then he goes to his bedside table to find his little box. He plans on laying all the items out, taking each one in his hands and looking at them, thinking of how lucky he is and how much he loves his mommy.

But then he opens his bedside table and his box isnt there? At first he's confused, wondering why on earth his mommy would move his special box. He isnt worried though, because he's sure you moved it and he's sure there's a reason you did that. You're his mommy and his mommy always knows best, so he's sure you'll explain everything when you get back.

That doesn't stop him from looking though. He wonders, maybe his mommy has a treasure hunt for him? Maybe he'll find his box in some random cabinet with a new note added!!

So he looks everywhere. And that's when he starts to panic, because he knows, he knows, his mommy would not have hid his box in a place he wouldn't have been able to quickly find. His mommy would never pull such a cruel prank on him.

Needless to say, Charles is in tears when you get home. It's not entirely uncommon for Charles to in tears when you get home, but that's usually happy tears.

(He knows around what time you get home and so he'll go sit on the balcony and watch the cars come down the street, watching for your car so he knows when you get home. He'll be in happy tears by the time you get up to the apartment, so happy that his mommy his home!!)

Of course you instantly know that Charles's tears are sad ones, and you pull him into your arms. You hold him close, rubbing his back and trying your best to calm him down.

Eventually you manage to calm him down and then he asks you if you put his special box somewhere. You shake your head, you would NEVER hide his box, you know how important it is to him.

More tears well up in his eyes when he hears this, because now he has no idea where his box is!! Maybe he even starts to feel like a bad boy? Because he's misplaced the things his mommy got him... what kind of sub is he if he can't even keep track of his mommy's gifts?

You shush him, giving a hug and telling him to go to the bedroom and wait there. The moment he asked you, you had a sinking feeling because you remembered the new cleaning lady that came. But you didnt want to phone her with Charles in the room, didn't want him to hear the news from her if it's what you suspect.

And unfortunately, you're right. The cleaning lady explains that she thought it was all trash, and your heart just breaks because you know sweet Charles will be inconsolable. You just sigh and hang up the call, making your way to Charles to tell him the bad news.

As expected, he has a full breakdown. You don't even manage to finish your sentence before he's crying, curling up on the bed and hugging your pillow, sobs wracking his little body.

You get onto the bed behind him, pulling him against your chest and rubbing his back. He's holding the rock he had kept in his suitcase in his hand, but it's not enough!!

"Why would she throw away mommy's gifts..." he keeps on mumbling, crying his little heart out.

You just hold him right, knowing that there's nothing you can say to make him feel better. His little heart has been broken, so so upset that someone would throw away all his precious gifts. How is he supposed to function when he can't go see all the pretty pressed flowers and rocks and cards and things from his mommy?

Eventually when he stops crying, he looks to you, still hiccuping every few seconds. He has no idea what to do, but he's in his mommy's arms so he knows it will be okay. His mommy will figure out what to do.

"I'm so sorry," you tell him, kissing his forehead.

He nods, hiding in your chest when he feels more tears threatening to fall.

His small rock becomes even more special to him, because it's all he has left. You have to treat him so softly for the rest of the week, and he keeps his Little Rock with him at all times, too scared to part with it for fear it might end up in the trash like his other gifts.

I think that maybe Charles never realised you would help him rebuild his little collection? Somehow he thought that because he had lost his special gifts, you weren't going to get him anymore. Like he somehow didnt deserve more. He thought this was obvious, and that's part of why he's so sad about losing what he has.

But of course you're going to continue to give him things! Nothing in the world would make you stop spoiling your special boy.

Maybe you buy him a much nicer box for everything? It takes a few days to find, and a ridiculous amount on overnight shipping, but you eventually find a storage box that looks like a treasure chest, with a lock and maybe built in compartments for easy storage.

You write a long note for Charles, praising him and thanking him for being the best boy ever, telling him that you love him so much and you were so sad for him when his special box got thrown out so you had to make it better because you're his mommy and that's your job.

Of course Charles sobs his little heart out again when he sees his gift, but it's happy tears this time. Now his gifts will have the best special box ever, a literal treasure chest because that's what they are to him!!

The lock for the chest is a combination lock, and of course Charles tells you the code the moment he sets it, because only he and his mommy are allowed to open it.

He's so so thankful, loving his mommy so very much.

#sub!charles #cl #soft soft vibes #f!reader #🪸

22 notes · View notes

weirdthoughtsandideas · 7 months

Text

Me and my sister discussed old daycares we went to together and one of these daycares, we went to up until I was 3 and she was 5 - that's when we moved to another city. Thus, I only have vague memories of this daycare.

The things I remember:

The playroom was large. They had a little slide indoors, which was so fun. My other daycare had a super small playroom in comparison.

I was not allowed to take naps, because apparently I "disrupted the other children", so I had to stay up with a teacher who read stories to me and another kid. He stayed up because he got picked up early by his mom. Funny thing about this, when I got to the new daycare after we moved, I did take naps. Although, at that point I hated naps and could never sleep.

There was a swing that only could spin around. The older kids liked to spin this super much and I, being 3, was terrified because they were spinning so fast.

I ate snow a lot

We had some Lucia performance in a large room with all the kids from the daycare

One time someone came to draw our bodies. I actually have this pictured in my daycare book.

”By drawing the body we practice on the body perception. Here Linda draws Sara. She lies on the floor in the playroom and laughs. This Sara thought was fun. - It tickles, laughs Sara.”

One time we went to the library and I remember feeling isolated because on the way there, I was put in a single stroller. All the other kids sat in twin strollers.

THEY HAD THIS PICTURED TOO

You can see my sadness /j

Already feeling isolation at age 3 help

One of our teachers told us a story about how her sister once got stuck in the toilet and yelled ”don’t flush!”. We thought this story was hilarious (because. Toilets are funny). But then at night I got a nightmare about someone getting flushed down the toilet…

Oh and I swear I have a memory where me and a boy walked around wearing only diapers playing with water in a room. We have this pictured too in my daycare book, but the thing is… this happened when I was 1 years old. So remembering it would have been impossible? I must have somehow thought I remembered it, or maybe there was another thing I did in that room later.

Now it sounds like I actually remember a lot from this place, but tbh all these memories are very vague. It’s just like ”One second of being in this room” types of memories.

Here are some other fun pictures from my daycare book. One is the playroom, with the slide (I’m the one in red)

I really wonder what happened to the girl in white. Barely remember her since we were literal toddlers but it’s interesting to know what happened to all the kids you used to know.

Oh, also: I have always been an artist, ever since I was two

Now, this was sweet and all. But, my sister was 5 so she has more memories of this place than me. And...

Her memories were unhinged.

So, here's what my sister remembered:

Every single kid from her section decided to run out to the fields that was next to the daycare. My sister also ran, but she stopped before the fields began. Then SHE got yelled at for even attempting, but she does not mention any other kid getting yelled at.

A boy got his tounge frozen on a pole, so the teachers had to go pour hot water on it. Then every other kid decided to try it, including my sister. So every single kid was like "now my tounge is stuck!", "now my tounge is stuck!"

Apparently one of my sister's teachers was a grumpy lady who always looked mad, and who forced my sister to poop outside because "we don't go inside during recess" ??????????????? (i have been substituting at daycares. If a kid needs to go, you go in with them and you let them go. what the actual fuck)

Two girls decided to rub their butts together (they were fully clothed). Now, they were like 4-5 so to them this was just having fun, maybe they did a high five and thought it would be funny to try that with their butts. Butts are fun. But a teacher saw them and GATHERED THE ENTIRE GROUP IN A CIRCLE and was like "Did you know what -name- and -name- did? They rubbed their butts together! That is completely unacceptable. I never want to see any of that behavior from any of you."

My sister remembered getting yelled at for simply doing the thing everyone else was doing, but apparently it was wrong when she did it. I can relate to this very much, it happened to me a lot too, although not at this daycare.

Maybe if we had not moved, I might have experienced some more unhinged things at this daycare like my sister, but according to my parents, my sister's group in general was kind of loud and "wild", so it could also be the group itself (similarly to how my elementary school class drove many teachers to nuts, but those teachers seemed to get along with other classes)

Another thing I can mention: I don't remember this at all, but apparently, me and a boy had discovered that if both of us helped to push the front door, we could open it. So, we had escaped out to the parking lot x) I wish I remembered that.

#daycare memories in general are often kind of unhinged

3 notes · View notes

nightmaremp · 6 months

Text

Gerald was walking back and forth in his room. He was nervous about proposing to his girlfriend, Tina. They've been dating for a while and he feels ready to move to the next step, to be with someone he truly loves and cares about. Gerald was holding a diamond ring that he saved money for from working at his mother’s bakery and some businesses around town.

There was a bag sitting on his bed that had a plush rabbit. The rabbit has pink and purple fur covering it, well, what it has left. There were two red patches on it, one on its left ear and left arm.

One blue button eye while the other button eye was gone and only had stuffing coming out of the hole where the button used to be at. Two red circles on its cheek like a clown. A green bow was wrapped around its neck.

Its right ear was ripped in half, there was a purple heart on its forehead.

His cat, Kevin, was sleeping next to the bag with the plush. Kevin was a black male cat with an open eye. He lost his eye due to a cat fight, lucky the eye didn’t get infected but the vet had to remove the eyeball due to the damage.

Gerald smiled at the feline before looking at the bag and remembering how he got the plush rabbit.

It was a hot summer day, the New Orleans’ heat was hot enough to make you feel like your skin was melting off your body. Gerald was ten years old when his mother, Eleanor spotted a yard sale at a house they never really noticed.

They went over to the yard sale and looked around, there were a few people there but not a lot. He and his mother mostly go to yard sales to save money on some clothes, toys, cooking stuff, etc.

Gerald likes to look at the toys, something caught his eyes. It was the plush rabbit. He picked it up with a smile and walked over to his mother.

“Mama! I want this, can I please have it?” Gerald asks with puppy dog eyes. “Now hold on, sweetie. First I need to check how much it is, then we see if we can get it, ok?” replied Eleanor as her son handed her the plush rabbit.

She checked the stick that was placed on it fur, it was 99 cents which was cheap for a plush.

“You’re in luck, we can get it” said Eleanor as she put the plush with some mugs and pans she got. They both walked up to a woman, she didn’t look nice from the look she was giving to them.

She had long ginger hair that was curly as vines. Her glasses sat on her big pink nose, her watermelon green skin looked as if she was dead. A large mole sits on her left side of her face, near her mouth.

She was wearing a sundress because of how hot it was. On the other side of the woman was her husband, he was busy with some people. His hair was a dark cherry red, along with a small goatee.

A light pink nose that was holding up his glasses, His skin was pale green skin that was like a green apple jelly bean favored.

“Excuse me, Mrs. I would like to pay for these” said Gerald’s mother with a smile. The lady scoffed before taking the stuff and adding up the price. “That will be $13.99” said the lady with a rude tone.

Eleanor’s tail went straight down due to the tone of the woman but she paid the woman the amount. They both left, Gerald holding the beat up plush rabbit with a smile on his face.

He snaps out of his flashback when he realizes the time. He quickly grabbed the bag with the plush rabbit and put the ring in the pocket of his suit.

He quickly went by his pitbull named Betty who was a three legged female white pitbull with brown spots. She was found on the side of the road with a badly infected leg which had to be removed. Betty is a sweet and lovable pitbull.

Gerald soon met up with Tina at an apple tree that they were hanging out at. “Gerald! You’re here!” Tina said happily as she hugged her boyfriend. “Yep” replied her boyfriend with a smile on his face.

“Why do you want to meet her tonight?” asked the ginger haired woman. “Well, I have a surprise but first close your eyes” replied Gerald. “Okay” replied Tina as she covered her eyes with her hands.

Gerald got down on his knees and pulled out the ring. “Tina, we have been dating for a long time now. You brought joy and wonderful things into my life. I know that I can’t live without you. Open your eyes” he said with a smile on his face.

Tina removed her hands and her eyes got wide. “Tina, will you marry me?” Gerald said with a smile. “Yes!” replied Tina with a huge smile on her face as she hugged her lover. He smiled and hugged her back.

“Oh! I got something else for you.” he replied as he handed her the bag with the plush rabbit. She opened it and her eyes got wide, and suddenly tears started to fall. It wasn’t out of happiness but sadness.

“What's wrong?” asked Gerald in a worried tone. “Gerald, how did you find her?” asked His lover who was in tears as she hugged the rabbit. “I found this plush at a yard sale when I was ten.” replied the chubby male.

“My love, you found my long lost emotional plush. I had her since I was born before my parents took her from my room and sold her in their yard sale because I was using her to escape their abuse and for comfort. I can’t believe you got her and kept her in the same way. You’re the best!” said Tina as she hugged Gerald with happy tears in her eyes. “You're welcome, I’m happy that I got you back with your friend. My love” He replied as they both hugged under the apple tree in the beautiful moonlight.

#the muppets #tina teeth #gerald teeth #muppet ocs #muppet mayhem #the muppet mayhem

3 notes · View notes

stillness-in-green · 2 years

Text

Chapter Thoughts Bonus Edition

The 359 Color Pages

I'm sorry; I have a truly ridiculous list of observations about the double page spread, so I figured I'd just put it up early. Also included is the cover picture of Deku and AFO.

The Cover:

For the cover, Deku is whatever—the coloring of his hair looks oddly flat compared to not just AFO's hair, but Deku's own clothes—but AFO looks fantastic: all those fiddly details on his vest! The tactility of his hair! The shadows bleeding away from his face, showing his eyes and—as ever, as always—that crinkle at the corner of his mouth when he grins. I like, too, that his skin is so pale, with a grayish undertone. It plays up both his age compared to Deku's youthful vigor, but also feels like a nice nod to the fact that AFO's been living in labs, basements, and a prison for at least the last six years, and probably a good while before then, ever since All Might started tipping the scales against him.

The scaling is a bit wack: Deku definitely doesn't look in scale with AFO, especially if you compare his outstretched hand to AFO's face. The composition is a lot of fun, though! Deku small and struggling within AFO's wide grasp, that huge half-circle of AFO's arms, the curve of his torso and head that make his whole body look like a cresting wave about to fall. Very visually compelling!

The Color Spread:

Top 5 Most Fabulously Fuckin' Fly Characters On The Color Spread:

#5: Sero - Between the rolled up sleeves (because of his elbows, but still), owning the bolo tie look, and his general confidence in his own skin, Sero is maybe Class 1-A's most consistently fly character regardless, and it carries over here.

#4: Kaminari - I'M SORRY THE GLASSES ARE TOTALLY FLY

#3: Present Mic - Rocking the chain and top-three-buttons-undone look there to great effect.

#2: Gang Orca - Continuing to look like a total villain; my god, what a boss-ass mobster.

#1: Jirou "Has Two Hands" Kyouka, my god, she nailed it.

League Inset:

Shigaraki with distinctly red eyes, just so we know it's him in control for the color spread, not All For One. And too covered in his ragged red cloak to tell if he's dressed up, save that he appears to have new shoes for the occasion.

Kurogiri!!! And Kurogiri in what has to be extremely pointed and intentional placement, too: right smack between the League and Aizawa+Present Mic, but with Shigaraki's aforementioned ragged red cloak separating him from his old classmates. Color me more curious than ever what side Kurogiri will take next time we see him.

Spinner in a suit and cravat but still wearing his goggles and eye mask. Give him a round of applause, everyone.

Mr. Compress! Back and looking as delightfully jaunty as ever. Can't wait to see more of that wonderful man.

I dig the sheer panels/sleeves on Toga's dress.

I note with some amusement that Dabi has declined to wear any red, even as a small accent color anywhere. A little too much Dad's color, perhaps?

Other Observations, top to bottom, left to right:

I had hoped from the initial shoddy scan of this making its way around that a certain dark-haired someone was tucked behind Nagant, but no such luck. Boo.

GENTLE AND LA BRAVA GOD BLESS. I wonder if that's hinting that we'll get to see them one more time? Ideally somewhere prior to the epilogue?

Monoma, please.

Aizawa pulling Aoyama along is Good, Actually. Do your best, Aoyama.

Shinsou and Shouji together is somewhat interesting. I don't want to read too much into it—Tokoyami and Shouto didn't wind up in the same place, after all—but we haven't seen Shinsou since the Aoyamas' phone call, so who knows where he is at current.

Extremely amused that the Pussycats are still wearing their big white costume gloves. The gloves are mandatory for all public appearances, got it?

Mirko seems to have chosen to make a statement by wearing a black leotard and nothing else to this formal affair.

Rock Lock! I want more of that guy; he's fun.

Jeanist, please.

KIRISHIMA, PLEASE. (Ditto Tetsutetsu.)

Lady Unnamed Civilian; I love her and, yes, I am still mad.

Love Healing Girl in her full skirts and petticoats.

Endeavor is 100% down an arm here, huh? Chalk another one up to the color art keeping on top of all the latest injuries.

I enjoy that hand Mount Lady has clenched into Kamui Woods' pantleg. Sit on him more, Mount Lady. She looks fantastic in that dress, too.

Oh, hey, Overhaul is in it, after all! He's just way over on the other side. Do your best, Overhaul.

This does, in fact, make the MLA Erasure even more criminal. My god, not even Skeptic. RIP my underappreciated fave villain group.

Kaminari's cute in glasses.

Stain desperately trying to get out of here lol.

Shoda and Kinoko tiny hat club.

I enjoy Kuroiro playing against type in the white tux.

#bnha #bnha chapter thoughts #-ish

3 notes · View notes

legends-of-time · 4 months

Text

The Strength of a High and Noble Hill (Outlander)

Chapter 8: Sister

Masterlist

May 1971

Brian stands in front of the stone that stands in the middle of the circle of many others. He can feel the stone calling to him, urging him to touch it but he pulls back, turning to his sister, who stands next to him, dressed in 18th century style dress just like he is for the journey they are about to embark on.

Brian speaks, "Ellen, are we sure about this?"

"Of course. We need to save Mama and, um, Jamie." She winces at her stumble.

Brian shakes his head, ignoring her stumble because he gets it even if he and his putative father never quite clicked. "You sure it has nothing to do with Roger?"

Ellen narrows her eyes at him. "Of course not."

"El..."

"It's not! I promise!"

Brian looks at her doubtfully but nods. He twists the ring on his right pointer finger. Mama had given it to him, saying it was his paternal grandfather's, his namesake's, ring. She had been wearing it when she had travelled back to the future and had lost the gem. Jamie, his Da, had wanted him to have it.

The siblings grip each other's hands and reach out to the stone.

——

Mama is in bed, demanding to know where the baby is when Frank, he and Mama had told Brian he can call the former Dad, brings Brian in along with his newly born sister.

November 1948

"Claire. Claire." Dad calls to her. One of his hands grips Brian's while the other cradles Brian's new sister.

Mama lets out a gasp at the sight of them.

"It's all right." Dad reassures as he places the baby in Mama's arms and helps Brian up onto the bed so he can join them. "Here she is."

Mama is overcome with emotion as she settles with the new weight in her arms. The baby makes a distressed noise causing Brian to frown.

"Sissy upset?"

Dad smiles at him and shakes his head. "No, Brian, your sister is fine."

"It's a girl?" Mama asks as she shushes the baby.

"She is. She's perfect, Claire."

"What do you think of your sister, Brian?" Mama asks with a beaming smile.

Brian frowns for a moment before declaring, "Pretty."

This causes the two adults to chuckle.

"What a beautiful little angel." A nurse remarks as she places something on the table next to the bed.

"Thank you." Dad replies.

"Red hair just like her brother. Where'd they get it?"

Brian smiles, about to tell the lady all about his Da when he sees the looks on Mama and Dad's faces and something tells him to keep his mouth closed.

——

Eleven-year-old Brian (nearly twelve!) stands in the National Gallery in London. They had come to the city on a school trip. Brian had been keenly interested in all the different objects around him but most of his classmates, while excited to be in a different country, found the place immensely boring.

March 1958

He'd been actively looking at every painting when one caused him to pause. It's a woman wearing old-fashioned clothes with a pearl necklace around her neck. Brian steps closer and reads that the portrait comes from Scotland in the 18th century by a Ellen Caitriona Sileas MacKenzie Fraser.

He looks back at the woman's face, it's what caused him to pause in the first place. Her features are shrinkingly familiar along with her red locks, Brian feels as if he knows her.

"Oi, Randall, what's your sister doing in a painting?" Brian turns to see it's David Mills, one of the less obnoxious kids in his class.

But now that David says it, Brian understands why the woman seems so familiar to him. She looks like Ellen, almost exactly but it's hard to tell as Ellen is so much younger than how old this woman is in the portrait.

Brian shrugs. "Don't know."

——

Brian is cradling Ellen as she shakes and sobs in his arms. He should have never let her out of his sight, and should not have stayed with Lizzie. If he hadn't, then his sister wouldn't be hurt.

September 1769

Ellen sniffles. "I got her ring. I got Mama's ring."

Brian makes a noise of acknowledgement as he holds her, rocking back and forth.

"I-I'm sorry, I—"

"No, don't apologise. It wasn't your fault and no matter how I feel, it's not mine either. It's his."

"But—"

"Ellen." Brian clasps the sides of her face so that he can bring up her face. "It's not. Bonnet is an evil man who took advantage of you because he wanted to. It's not your fault that he chose to do it."

Ellen sniffs and slowly nods. Brian knows she's not completely convinced but then who would after being attacked like that, but it'll have to do for now. It'll take a while for him to get over the guilt himself.

"Come." He pulls her up. "Let's have a wash and see how Lizzie is doing. Yeah?"

Ellen nods and follows his lead into their room.

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

#outlander

0 notes

savysing · 1 year

Text

Choose the finest Printed silk scarf from manufacturers

Silk scarves wholesale are basically a piece of fabric, however, it has been utilized by Sovereign Elizabeth as a headscarf a lot of times.

It is basically a little piece of enhancement and fog broadly known as an extra that is extremely flexible. , silk scarves wholesale can go about as a political proclamation in some. It could in fact signify the alliance of the one wearing it alongside the convictions.

The prominence of printed silk scarf appeared in the nineteenth 100 years till date. Today, many style houses send their devoted and steadfast clients scarves as a way to say much obliged.

Do you have a place with those gathering of women who love wearing scarves to appear to be unique or the ones who want printed silk scarf because of the way that scarves are a genuine style creator? All things considered, you are an in vogue present day one.

You can circle a Indian silk scarf around your neck or wear it on your head. It doesn't impede design and style by any means. All things being equal, it adds more uniqueness and effortlessness to your look.

The most awesome aspect of Indian silk scarf is that today you can get them in various structures, shapes, and even plans that can be coordinated effectively with your outfits and, surprisingly, the season. Isn't it astounding?

For what reason Do Women Wear silk scarves for women?

As expressed before larger part of the silk scarves for women since it is in vogue. Aside from the style sense, women wear silk scarves for women for different reasons like religion, insurance from the sun, warmth, or even neatness.

Aside from wearing scarves, women even love getting scarves on various events, so assuming that you have anybody in your family, not even companions, who love scarves, feel free to pick the best-planned bulk pashmina scarves and send them over to astound them. It will be the best gift you have at any point given to a woman.

The outfit and conduct of your ladies in a roundabout way mirror the upsides of your organization. Pick the scarf, the lady outfit frill that will have a significant effect! The scarf market is exceptionally famous today. Be that as it may, quality isn't consistently there… Beginning around 1939, our home English Creations Craze has been fostering its expertise all over the planet. Our items are high quality with best materials like silk. The bulk pashmina scarves is a sumptuous and exceptionally subjective design frill.

Make an outfit commendable with wholesale pashmina scarves

A leader clothing frill should be of good quality and novel. In this way,ECC presents to you the chance of having wholesale pashmina scarves customized.

Trust our beauticians. They will join you bit by bit for the acknowledgment of your master outfit extra.

Allow your creative mind to be free. We are carefully printing offering an incredible chance of creation. Because of this innovation, it is feasible to play interminably with varieties and examples.

Intended to sublimate your leaders, the wholesale pashmina scarves will permit you to consolidate quality and creativity

The most effective method to wear a silk scarf with a dress

On the off chance that you're hoping to raise a monochrome dress, particularly one in the muffled/bare range, then a silk scarf is all you really want.

Tie it around your neck for an eye-getting pop of variety - the ideal expansion to a Slipover or strapless dress to stylistic layout those collarbones!

The glow of the caring hands of the antiquated craftsmans should be visible on Pashmina wrap; even today. This dependable texture can be embellished as the family legacy as you can't have sufficient wizardry of the pashmina scarf wholesale. Most shockingly, the wizardry doesn't end in this one of a kind and natural texture which is organized from the hair of the Changthangi goat; the hand weaving adds more appeal to this dazzling piece of cloth.By Angela JeyAugust 9, 2022

The glow of the caring hands of the old craftsmans should be visible on pashmina scarf wholesale; even today. This dependable texture can be enhanced as the family treasure as you can't have sufficient sorcery of the Pashmina. Most shockingly, the wizardry doesn't end in this one of a kind and natural texture which is organized from the hair of the Changthangi goat; the hand weaving adds more appeal to this wonderful piece of fabric.

0 notes

anyoneseenadam · 3 years

Note

omg can u do smth about the inner circle finding out about reader and azriel’s relationship? maybe they’ve been like secretly dating for a while! ily <3

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: butt ton of fluff

a/n: i made this a part two to this fic! but it can be read separately, i love az sm so i hope you enjoy!! (this has not been proofread sorry lol)

------------------------------------——————————

A week later you were invited up to the house of wind. Azriel was swamped with work and missed you, and since he stayed there most the time he had dragged you in with him.

Currently you were lying in his bed, curled around a long pillow, and sleeping, wearing one of his shirts and your panties while he trained. He had promised you he would introduce you all soon but so far you had been sneaking about the house. A task that was easy for the spymaster, but less so for you.

He had tried to treat it like a holiday. Sneaking you down to the kitchen to bake cookies at midnight and spending nights on the roof, pointing out constellations.

When you had first arrived Azriel had explained what was going on with Nesta and Cassian as he snuck you in. While you were walking up, giggling behind one hand, the other tightly clasped in Azriel’s warm calloused hand, you had run into Nesta. Your eyes had widened meeting her, stomach dropping as she sized you up and down.

“Nesta,” Azriel’s voice calmed you slightly as you wrapped both hands around one of his, moving behind him ever so slightly. “This is my girlfriend; we’ve been dating for about six months and you cannot tell Cassian.”

She had smiled then and reached a hand out to shake yours, “am I the first to find out then?” she asked and you nodded.

“I’m (y/n).” You muttered, some confidence coming back.

“Pleasure to meet you, if you ever need someone to bitch too about him come to my room,” she left with a warm smile and you laughed, turning to Azriel.

“I like her,” you said, and he looked down at you frowning.

“Why would you need to bitch about me?” he asked, and you kissed his pout away, pulling his hand to continue onwards.

“Probably cause you smell.” He jabbed your side before picking you up and carrying you over his shoulder into his room, dumping you on the bed and crawling over you.

“Horrible girl,” he muttered, pressing kisses into your neck as he ground his hips down into yours. You giggled into his mouth; the rest of the day spent tangled up in him.

The next few days after that were relaxing. He was always away first thing to train, but you weren’t going to complain when he came back stripping of his clothes, sweaty and flushed but always holding a coffee for you.

The rest of the day would be spent either flying out to walk around shops and see markets in other courts, or sometimes flying over mountains, safe and secure in Azriel’s arms. The day before he had prepared a picnic and taken you to a beautiful field, smiling as you pointed out different kinds of flowers, before he picked a gerbera daisy and pushing it behind your ear, then kissing you so hard you almost fell over.

You woke slightly when Azriel returned, his heart warming when he saw you dozing, engulfed in his scent. He put your coffee next to you and you muttered something inaudible to him, snuggling further into his pillow and smiling sleepily when he pressed a kiss to your head, eyes never opening. He sat by you for a minute and pushed the hair away from your face before deciding he was going to bring you breakfast.

He pressed another kiss to your head before standing, quickly replacing his sweaty clothes, and leaving the room, letting you sleep in. His mind so filled with thoughts of his pretty girl and the smile she would give him when she woke up that he didn’t notice that Cassian wasn’t in the kitchen at his usual time.

You on the other hand noticed it pretty quickly, waking suddenly when the door slammed open, a man’s voice that you didn’t recognise asking your absent lover a question.

The well-built man stopped suddenly when you sat up in bed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tried to work out what to say.

“You’re not Azriel.” He stated, realising that the strange girl he saw was covered in his brothers’ scent. And was wearing his brothers’ clothes. And drinking coffee from his brothers’ mug.

“Yes I am.” You said on impulse, shaking your head at your own stupidity but relaxing when the man you presumed was Cassian relaxed.

“Who are you?” he asked, a smile breaking out on his face when he realised who you were.

“Umm I’m (y/n), Azriel’s girlfriend.” You sat up straighter, pulling the covers tighter over you as you realised you were half dressed.

Cassian’s eyes lit up and he ran to your side, sitting in front of you and cheering. “Tell me everything! How did you guys meet? What do you do? How long have you been together?” he bombarded you with questions and you laughed nervously, silently preying that Azriel would return soon.

“Uhh we’ve been together for about six months and I own a flower shop, that’s where we met,” you explained to him when the door flew open again, another tall, dark haired man running in with three women. You recognised your high lord and lady and blushed bright red as they stared at you, smiling so widely.

“We came as fast as we could.” Rhys explained, introducing himself, his wife and Amren and Morrigan. They all crowded you and you moved back slightly, feeling the panic rise in you as they all asked you a million questions.

They were all kind, but so excited that their friend had gotten a girlfriend they were acting slightly insane. You tried to answer their questions, but they were coming so fast that your breathing began to pick up slightly, insecurities rising as you realised that you had just woken up. Your hair was probably a mess, and you hadn’t even washed your face, and you were in an old t-shirt and probably smelt bad.

You looked up when Azriel walked in, his eyes widening at the sight of his entire family in your room.

“What are you guys doing?” he asked as his family turned to him instead, asking him a million questions, Cassian practically in tears that he hadn’t been told.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your arm, turning to see Feyre smiling at you, “I’m sorry if we freaked you out a bit,” she said and you went to deny but she continued, “it can be a but much I know I went through similar, except for me it wasn’t eight in the morning!” her voice raised at the end and Rhysand turned around sheepishly.

“You’re right, my deepest apologies,” he said, still unable to keep the smile off his face, “Come to ours for dinner this evening.”

You smiled at him, nodding as your knee bounced to get rid of the anxious energy, muttering goodbye as Feyre and Rhys dragged their family out the room.

“I love you!” Cassian called over his shoulder and you laughed, eyes filling with tears you were trying to hold back.

“Cauldron baby I’m so sorry, are you okay?” Azriel asked and you nodded at him laughing at yourself as you cried.

“I’m okay, really. They were all so nice.” You assured him as he put down the tray he was holding and wrapping his arms around you.

“Then why are you crying?” he asked, his hands gentle as they wiped the stray tears.

“I cry at everything, the other day I cried because someone said they liked my dress,” you laughed and he shook his head, laughing with you.

“You’re in touch with your emotions,” he reasoned,

“I’m a baby. A baby with no social skills that gets overwhelmed very easily,” His shoulders shook with laughter as he lay the two of you down, “I haven’t even had my coffee yet and that was so much social interaction.” You complained, wiping your eyes as you calmed down.

He smiled down at you, kissing your forehead gently, “Are you up for seeing them properly tonight?” he asked, holding you so gently.

“Yeah it’ll be nice,” you assured him, “plus I do think me, and Cassian have to discuss our shared love for you. I think we might start a fan club.”

Azriel laughed, “If you say so.”

“I really do by the way. Love you I mean. Like I love you so much it makes me stupid, when I’m bored I just think about you and things we could do, and it makes me so happy.” You raised yourself up to look down at him as you spoke, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as he smiled dopily up at you.

“I love you so ridiculously much too.” You sat up together, your back pressed against his chest as he passed you your coffee and the breakfast he had prepared the two of you.

The stress of tonight could come later, you were just content to spend the rest of your morning in his arms.

#acofas #acotar #azriel #acomaf #azriel x reader #acowar #acofs #acosf #rhysand

406 notes · View notes

shoutogepi · 4 years

Text

Worth the Wait

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 9.2k

[ ☁︎, ☀︎, ✘ (nsfw 18+) ] (v lowkey angst//fluff)

themes : virgin!Shouto, experienced!reader (well, more than Sho anyway lol), praise kink?, lil baby couples quarrel, make up sex, and also he’s kinda hung lmfao idk if that’s relevant 💀

bio : You can’t help but notice that every time things start to heat up with your Pro-Hero boyfriend, he shuts you down. After politely ignoring his initial rejections, your frustrations build up, and you decide to confront him.

author’s note : so this fic was inspired by a conversation with the lovely astrid ( @todoscript ), who is becoming my cherished shouto confidante! we didn’t talk about it for very long, and it was awhile ago... but my brain would not move on so… this happened. i figured if i’m going to type so much about him i may as well write a fic. thanks for listening to my constant yelling, hope you enjoiii <3

side note : both shouto and reader are meant to be young adults in this fic!! i was thinking somewhere around 25-30 (i didn’t specify the age in the fic) but i thought i would make note of this as that’s considered “old” to still have your v-card, by American society at least (hence why sho kept that info from reader)

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃he first time it happened, you tried to play it off as if you hadn’t made a move.

The last few of your friends had finally departed from the Saturday game night you had thrown, leaving just you, Shouto, and the slow, hot tango of your tongues. You hadn’t seen each other all week— with him being busy with his hero work, and you being busy with your comparatively-mundane job, you didn’t get to spend as much time together as you would have liked. Although it was an obstacle for your relationship, you were both young adults as well as devoted professionals, which allowed the two of you to remain on the same page most of the time. It was typical for you to text and call one another for a few hours after work (granted you both had the time to spare) before passing out mid-conversation, your phone screen still lit up and gentle snores exchanged through the speakers. But like any sane girlfriend, having him in person, right in front of you, was always your favorite.

What had started as a peck had quickly evolved into a full on make-out session— Shouto had pulled you halfway onto his lap when you tried to move back from your initially-stealthy kiss, an appreciative hum rumbling through him as his large hands cupped around your face. You didn’t fight him as he brought your lips back to his, and you failed to stop him when those very same hands began to glide down your back, parking just above your ass. His fingers had gradually started to fiddle with the tops of your jeans, thumb running over the denim and dipping down to graze against your skin through your thin blouse.

Yet when your hands slipped underneath the bottom of his shirt, he pulled back from you, heterochromatic eyes guarded as he removed your hands. You had immediately picked up on his reluctance, and threw yourself off of him onto the other side of the couch, embarrassment scorching the back of your neck. Shouto left not long after that, for you had made up some lousy excuse that you were tired and would like to go to sleep, when sleep was really the opposite of your innermost desires.

This would have been all fine and good— because consent was consent after all, and you had no intentions of pushing him to do something he was uncomfortable with— had the same thing not happened just two weeks later. There you were thinking it would be a cute, coupley evening of watching movies and tossing popcorn at each other, resting your head against his shoulder and being content with just that— when then all of the sudden he was pinning you onto the sheets and kissing you til you couldn’t breathe. His hands, once again, wandered all over your clothed torso, palms mapping out each dip and curve as his tongue entertained yours in your mouth.

You were hesitant to kiss him at first, recalling how you had horrifically killed the mood last time, but as his advances became more passionate, you slowly allowed your defenses to slip back, excitement building inside of you. It was only when your legs tightened around his waist, your core brushing up along his thigh and causing you to let out the softest moan did he pull back. That same calm, cool expression was on his face, though his eyes were a bit wider than usual. There was also the tiniest hint of pink dusting his pale cheeks, his lips parted as he gathered himself. It was rather awkward after that— neither of you really knew what to say— so you crawled back to your spot and sat in silence for the rest of the movie, your hands eventually wandering out to hold onto each other. After sharing a soft kiss and exchanging “goodnight”s, you returned to your place, ready for an extra long appointment with your vibrator.

Unfortunately for you, this became a common occurrence. It wasn’t that you hated the steamy make-out sessions with your as-hot-as-they-come boyfriend, no— you thoroughly enjoyed them. The part that you absolutely loathed was returning to your place with your panties soaked all the way through, your sexual frustration meter only climbing higher and higher.

You loved your boyfriend! And of course you respected his wishes. You would wait for however long he wanted, because you wanted your first time together to be special. But fuck, did he have to heat you up just to leave you hanging every time? If he wanted to wait, then fine! But, God, what had you done to deserve this torture? You couldn’t get past first base— you’d never even rubbed your body erotically against his except for that time on his bed, and that was by accident!

And that was what you told the ladies during your Thursday night all-girl conference call, finally needing to vent and get this selfish feeling off your chest. It had been a long time coming, quietly brewing over the many instances of him stunting your advances that you came to a realization.

Enough was enough! You were going to ask him why he wouldn’t go any further with you, and whatever his answer may be, at least you would know what he was thinking! You felt like a weight had been lifted off of you, the girls cheering you on and wishing you luck as you said goodbye, ready to confront him.

— - — - — - — - —

Now that you’re standing here in front of his door, it seems like a foolish plan you’ve made. Your heart is beating out of your chest, thumping frantically against your ribcage as your fist is frozen in the air, knuckle about to connect with the door. Your stomach feels tight and low, throat dry with apprehension as your brain runs through every possible outcome. What would he say once you ask him your question?

Perhaps your breath stinks and it turns him off? Or maybe he doesn’t like the perfume you wear— or is it the way you dress that he doesn’t like? What if the reason he always stops you… is because he’s not sexually attracted to you?

Now that you think about it, you’ve never seen him pop a boner during your tongue wrestling matches, and the realization nearly causes your soul to leave your body. Even though the thought horrifies you, you try your best to reassure yourself that’s not the case. You had caught Shouto checking you out on multiple occasions, his eyes igniting a delicious heat on your skin. Whatever the case, you’re in this too deep to chicken out now. So with that, you let your knuckles rap on the door, steeling your nerves.

There’s a moment of quiet shuffling before your boyfriend opens the door, a pleasantly surprised smile on his face. His hair is wet and freshly washed, shining droplets collecting at the ends and making him appear even more handsome than usual. The gray tee thrown over his broad shoulders has damp spots from the runoff, and you take a second to admire the way his chest looks in the clingy material. “Hey, love,” he says, his voice alone causing goosebumps to rise along your forearms.

You allow him to guide you into his apartment, the door clicking shut behind him quietly. “Hi Sho,” you greet back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning up to kiss him.

Shouto chuckles against your eager lips, long arms gathering you into his chest. When he pulls away, he tucks your head underneath his chin, placing another kiss on your crown. “I missed you.”

Your heart throbs, happiness surging through you and butterflies bursting into your stomach. “I missed you more,” you reply playfully, burying your face between his broad pecs and inhaling his warm, wintery scent. The smell of fresh detergent lingers on the fabric, mixing with his clean aroma and making your tummy flip in circles.

“Impossible,” Shouto quips back, holding your waist tight as he dips you backwards just enough for your feet to leave the ground before he presses his lips to yours again, rendering you breathless. He pulls you back upright after a moment, a cheeky smirk on his face as you try to remember what you were talking about before. “Come in, sit down. I was just finishing up some work, I’ll get you something to drink.”

Following his instruction, you move further into his apartment, gravitating toward the couch and inspecting the files laid out on the coffee table before you. The words blur together for you, the foreign hero work forms long and in what might as well be another language. You lean back onto the cushions as Shouto returns, a glass of water in his hand. Frost forms on the glass as he hands it to you, taking a seat beside you with his knee brushing against yours. You smile at his consideration, taking a small sip even though you’re not really thirsty.

“Was there something you came over here for specifically, love? Forgive me if I’ve forgotten, but I don’t believe we had plans?” He’s looking directly at you, eyes locked with yours as his hand comes to land on the top of your knee. Even just an innocent movement like that has you on alert, your breath catching in your throat as he gives a gentle squeeze.

“Uh… no reason,” you answer lamely, crumbling under the pressure of his watchful eyes. “Just wanted to see you.”

Shouto’s gaze lingers on you carefully, and for a second you feel like you’ve been caught in a trap. But he lets it go, his lips forming a soft smile as he lays his arm around your shoulders. “Well, I’m glad to see you too,” he replies honestly. His fingers caress your arm as his hand falls down to your waist, and he leans in to press another kiss to your cheek. You lean into his affection, mouth curving in content. “So, what would you like to do?” Shouto asks as he shuffles the files away into their manilla envelopes, creating a neat pile in the far corner of the table. He leans back into the cushions, fingers fondly stroking at your side. “We could go out to eat? We could try this new bar afterwards, too, it’s across from my agency. If you’re alright to go out.”

You can’t focus on his words, really— you’re too lost in your own thoughts. Why does he have to touch you like this every time, when if you act on it, he’ll only push you away? You’ve been together for a long while now, and still, he doesn’t take initiative to further your relationship. Every bone you’ve thrown his way has been perfectly deflected, with no sign of weariness from him. If he doesn’t want you, is it because he’s not into you anymore?

An ugly thought rears its head in the midst of your anxiety’s dark clouds.

Maybe he never was.

Taking your silence as an answer, Shouto continues on, looking towards the kitchen over his shoulder. “Or we could buy groceries and make dinner. I think I have bok choy in the fridge, but we’ll have to buy some meat. And noodles, if you want those instead of rice. I’m sure I have that sesame sauce you like, I—” He pauses as you grab his hand, your fingers looping tight around his warm palm, sliding them to rest on your thigh.

With the summer just fading into fall, you were wearing something to showcase the smooth expanse of your thighs, and as you guide his hand to touch your soft skin, a delicate blush blooms across Shouto’s cheeks. The flustered expression on his face only goads you on, and you lean in to capture his lips.

A muffled noise escapes him, your hand coming up to touch his jaw and rub your thumb against his chin. It only takes him a moment to recalibrate before his free hand rises and copies your actions, gliding down the back of your neck before pulling your face closer to his.

You run your tongue against the seam of his mouth, and he swiftly grants you access as his lips move to follow yours. He tastes like mint and sweet herbs, the tea he was entertaining before you came lingering on his tongue. His hand slips out of yours to curl around your waist, grabbing onto your hip and squeezing. As your kisses start getting heavier and slower, your once-occupied hand moves to land on his chest, your thumb pushing into the tender muscle located there. His flesh jumps beneath your touch, but he allows you to continue groping at him through his shirt, his own hands beginning to knead at you. Before you know it, your knee swings over his thighs and you’re hovering on top of his lap, not sitting down on him just yet as you realize the position you’ve put yourself in.

You can notice the change— you’ve faced this exact scenario many times before. Shouto’s hands freeze up, locking into their current position, and he only returns your passionate kisses, not allowing his body much more movement than that. You try to just keep kissing him, but all the doubts and fears quickly pile up inside of you, and you pull away from him. You can’t even look at him. You’re too scared to speak, and too reluctant to get off of him, only leaning back to create a divide between his face and yours. Trying to hide your face before he can see your defeated expression, you dive into his chest, arms folding tight around his neck.

Shouto’s still frozen in place, but he seems to sense your distress. His arms slowly circle around your waist, fingers moving to trace up and down your spine. He softly exhales against your hair, letting out the breath he was holding in ever since you swung onto his lap. “Y/N? Are you alright?” he asks quietly after a brief pause, his voice soft and low, soothing to your wary ears. “You haven’t been acting like yourself today…”

After a long pause, you sigh, trying your best not to get emotional. “It’s just…” I’m so fucking attracted to you but you won’t let me touch you, you want to say, but you’re too terrified to say it aloud. What can you even say to him that would be better than that?

Shouto’s arms around you squeeze gently, indicating his patience in awaiting your answer. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his lips grazing over your ear and placing a discreet kiss there. “Whatever it is, we can face it together.”

You let out a soft sniffle and Shouto pulls you tighter into his chest, his heart cracking at your sound of sadness. But his words bring a surprising amount of comfort to you, and you clear your throat before you lean back again, looking into his two-toned irises. His gaze is sympathetic, his eyes holding a visible amount of affection and support. “Well, I…”

He nods slightly, leaning forward to show his encouragement. “Go ahead, love…”

“Are… Are you attracted to me?”

It comes out more high-pitched than you would’ve liked, but at least it’s out— and he definitely heard you, judging from the wide-eyed shock painted across his face.

“Am I— What?” He stutters, his head tilting automatically in confusion. “I— of course I’m attracted to you, I’m… you’re my girlfriend.” Shouto looks at you incredulously, his arms falling to his side so that only his hands remain on your hips. “You’re the most attractive person I know, love. You’re gorgeous, inside and out,” he elaborates. “The whole package.”

His compliments butter you up, a small smile forming on your lips as you shyly look to your hands folded in your lap. “Not the whole package…” you mumble, squirming slightly as his hands come to hold either side of your face.

“Yes, the whole package,” he insists, nuzzling your nose against his. “Beautiful,” he declares as he kisses your cheek.

“Kind.” A smooch to the other cheek.

Your heart beats excitedly in your chest, thumping loudly against your ribs with each compliment.

“Courageous.” A kiss to the chin.

“Witty.” A peck to the forehead.

“Sexy?” you blurt it out just as he swoops in to press his lips to yours.

Shouto falters, pulling back just a hair as he looks at you in shock. “S-Sexy?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but by the way his cheeks and ears are tinged a bright pink, it’s clear your suggestion was a bit too much for him.

The way he stutters out the adjective in confusion has your heart tearing in two. “Y-You don’t…?”

You’re staring directly at him, his wide eyes locked with yours and his body frozen to the couch. His lips are slightly parted, but no words come out of him.

Silence.

This is not how you want this conversation to go— you aren’t prepared for it to go like this. The tears you had successfully fought off before come back with vengeance.

Only once Shouto sees you hang your head in embarrassment, your eyes getting glassier by the second, he springs into action. “Hey, no, that’s not…” he starts to speak, sounding more worried by the second. His hand goes to cup your face, the warmth of his quirk evident in his touch as his finger dries over a fresh track of tears on your cheek. “I… of course I think you’re sexy, love. I’m sorry, you just caught me by surprise… You don’t think I know how sexy you are?”

You can only reply with a lame shrug, unwilling to let his eyes meet yours as you hide your face behind your curtain of hair. You try to slide off his lap, ready to retreat to the bathroom and wipe away your pathetic tears, but Shouto doesn’t let you move away from him, his arms locking tight around your waist and forcing you to lean against his chest.

“Talk to me, baby,” he pleads, nuzzling into the side of your face. His voice is more gentle than you’ve ever heard before, and you hate to admit your stomach is doing cartwheels at how sweet he’s being. “I love you no matter what, and I hate to see you so upset. I’m not good at figuring these things out on my own, just tell me what’s wrong, love. Please?”

He gives you a few moments to gather yourself, his fingers massaging your stiff muscles as you cling onto him. Once you’re confident enough to speak, your words come out barely loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just that… whenever I think we’re about to take it to the next level, you pull away. I want to respect your boundaries, Sho, but I can’t help but feel like it’s because you don’t… want me.” The hands on your body still at that, your boyfriend taking in a sharp breath as you pause, then decide to continue. “I’m just… so attracted to you, Shouto… I want to be mindful of your limits, but I can’t help but want to touch you all the time. I’m— I’m sorry if that sounds indecent.”

Shouto murmurs your name lowly against your ear, his large palm once again rubbing over your spine in an effort to comfort you as he tries to piece together the correct words. “This is… a terrible miscommunication, and it’s all my fault...” he sighs, his voice dropping lower and becoming quieter, his insecurities leaking into his voice. “I’m so sorry to have made you feel like this… I promise that’s not the case.”

His words are enough to numb your worries, and you lean back so you’re able to look him in the eye as you wait for him to continue. He takes a deep breath before he sighs again, knowing he has to tell you the truth now, but worrying that he’s about to ruin everything the two of you have built over these past months.

“The reason that I push you away every time is… well, I—” he gulps nervously, and it’s your turn to look at him with encouragement. You take one of his hands in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as he tries to find the best way to explain his reasoning. “It’s not because you’re unattractive, it’s— I mean, if anything, you’re too… too attractive, and I get…” he trails off, his cheeks now a bright shade of pink that you’ve never really seen before. It’s the first time you’ve seen the usually collected man so flustered, and a part of you feels guilty for causing him such discomfort. Just as you’re about to cut in and tell him he doesn’t have to continue, he does. “I… I’ve never been with anyone… like that before.”

You blink at him in confusion.

Shouto just seems to get even pinker, and he quickly starts explaining himself as he takes in your dazed expression. “I know you probably thought I had all this experience because I’ve been a top Hero for some time now, but I just— I never met anyone before that cared about me like this and I just never wanted to do— well, to do that with a stranger.”

“You’re… a virgin?”

Shouto’s red at this point, his hot side nearly catching fire as he buries his face behind his hand, too embarrassed to face you at this point. “Yes, I’m sorry to disappoint you, love. I just… I’ve never felt like this about anyone before and I— I wanted to impress you so badly, Y/N. I… I should’ve told you this from the start, I’m so sorry to have caused you such doubt.”

His voice is just above a whisper now, his fingers clutching onto the fabric of your shirt as if he’s afraid you’ll get off his lap and walk straight out the front door at his confession. “Shouto…” You can’t stop the smile that begins to curl the corners of your mouth. This is the reason he wouldn’t go any further with you? Not because he didn’t find you attractive? Your heart feels heavy thumping against your ribcage, giddiness flooding your bloodstream.

Your boyfriend gapes at your smile, brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait, you’re not… disappointed?” At the instant shake of your head, his discomfort eases significantly. “R-Really? But everyone thinks I’m, well… kind of a womanizer I guess, I thought you’d at least expect—”

You click your tongue at him, shaking your head as you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “When have I ever given a shit about others’ expectations of you, Shouto? I love you for you, Sho… you make me so happy just as you are.”

Shouto melts at your words, a sigh of relief escaping his lungs as he crushes you to his chest. Your sweet scent fills his nose as he kisses the top of your head, and you bask in his touch as you hug him back. “You’re right, love, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner… I hate that you felt unwanted because of me. I promise, you’re the only one I’ve ever felt this way about, I— I’m so attracted to you as well. I love you so much.”

Your lips meet his in a passionate kiss, all the hurt and doubts that built over the last few months dissolving into the shadows. Only the light, warm feeling of your love is left behind, glowing brighter than ever before.

Shouto’s fingers crawl up the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping across your lips before you allow him entrance. Your fingers push into his silky hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp and he groans at the action, letting your tongue take control and invade his mouth instead. Your breaths starting to become ragged, you both pull away for a moment to breathe. As you look into each others’ eyes, you both begin to laugh softly, the pair of you equally content with how your heart-to-heart had gone.

“So, you do think I’m sexy, then?” You smirk, pleased with this new knowledge.

Shouto chuckles, nudging your face to the side so he can place a trail of kisses down the column of your throat. “Is that all you got from that?” He teases, nipping at your skin playfully.

You close your eyes, enjoying how his love bites feel on your quickly-heating flesh. “One of a few things…” Your breathing becomes deeper as his lips begin to gently suck on the faded marks he’d just made. “Mmm, Sho~”

He hums as your arms wrap tight around his shoulders, tongue caressing the skin he’s sucked into his mouth. Your thighs twitch on either side of his lap when he pulls away, cold breath cooling the wet, darkened patch of skin on your throat. He swears under his breath as his hands trail down your waist to your hips, thumbs resting on the top of your bottoms.

“Would you, um… want to try something new, then?” You offer, sitting back to look him in the eye, ready to catch any amount of uncertainty in his two-toned gaze. But you find none, for he captures your lips again and nibbles on your bottom lip, another hum or approval vibrating against your mouth.

From there he hands the reins to you, opting to lean back into the cushions of the sofa as your tongue guides his in a slow embrace. Your palms both land on his chest, fingertips starting to massage the thick muscles underneath his t-shirt. Shouto sighs as your hands slide down his torso, and just as they dip underneath he sits up slightly, tearing the flimsy material over his head in one quick sweep. With the fabric out of your way, you try to keep yourself calm, your eyes now feasting on his broad, sculpted chest and abs. Saliva begins to pool in your mouth at the wonderful sight, your tongue poking out to wet your lips as you scan over his physique again and again.

Just as he’s about to make fun of your lustful stare, you move in to place a few light kisses to his jaw and neck, the action making him tense up and flex his gorgeous torso for you. Careful not to leave any marks on his throat, you make your way down his chest, taking a moment to leave a ring of wet smooches around his nipple. The muscles jump again for you, his body sensitive to your foreign touch as you slowly take the bud into your mouth, sucking just enough for him to squirm.

“That kind of… ahh, tickles,” Shouto mumbles as your tongue traces over his skin, his bottom lip between his teeth as you move to the other side of his chest and repeat the action. He sighs as you pull away, welcoming the kiss you place on his lips afterwards. His abs become rigid underneath the slow trail of your fingernails that move south, his eyes opening mid-way through the kiss as your hand grows closer and closer to his pelvis.

Just as he’s about to pull away, you move back from his mouth, your shirt flying over your head and onto the floor behind you. Shouto can barely breathe as he looks at your bare skin, the smooth expanse of your shoulders to your hips on display for him, save for the bra covering your chest. He’s fixated on the tops of your breasts, the round, smooth flesh mesmerizing him completely. Sure, he’s seen your cleavage before, but in comparison to this, that’s nothing.

“W-Wow…” he falters, struggling to tear his gaze off of them. There’s a little bow in the middle of the cloth contraption, and he can’t help but compare the sight before him to a present. Oh, how he wants to unwrap it…

You giggle at his awe-struck expression, your self-esteem soaring higher than it has in months. Just as you’re about to instruct him, he moves a hand to cup one side of your bra, his thumb running over your skin. A whimper escapes you when he squeezes you, his face moving closer so that the tip of his nose runs across your collarbone, his lips ghosting kisses across your chest. You wonder if he can feel your heart racing beneath his lips as they trace the cusp of your bra— how it races when he presses his face between your tits, inhaling the warm, clean smell of you that lingers there. “M-Mphhh, Sho…” you sigh as he sucks a hickey into your skin, his mouth pulling your flesh out from under the fabric cup.

Your hands fumble as they move behind your back to undo the clasp, but Shouto doesn’t have time for that, it seems. Instead, he opts to push the straps from your shoulders, tugging the bottom of the material down your ribs and completely exposing your chest to him without ever moving his mouth from your skin. You still manage to unclasp the confining material, letting it fall to the ground without a care. When he does finally let go of you, he moves back to examine your naked chest, his lower lip disappearing between his straight, white teeth. His eyes are half-lidded, and he dives straight back into your chest, circling around your areola with swift kisses and teasing licks, repeating the same process you had done to him. His warm mouth enveloping your nipple makes you let out a stifled cry, your hips jerking against his lap on their own accord.

Shouto moans at the movement, his hand gently squeezing your other breast as he sucks on the pert bud in his mouth, tongue swirling around it with ease. You reposition so your legs are on either side of one of his, placing your clothed core against the rough material of his jeans and beginning to move your hips in slow, wide movements. It only urges Shouto on, for he switches his attention to the other side of his chest and repeats the same ministrations there, one hand coming to cup your ass and move in tune with your slow gyrations.

At this point you can feel yourself leaking onto your panties, your excitement only multiplying as he allows you to grind against him. You’d never imagined he’d be so eager to touch you, after so much time of him rejecting your advances. But you couldn’t care about that now, with your pussy brushing all over his muscular thigh and his mouth attacking your bare chest. The thrill only increases further when you readjust your hips, moving closer to him and feeling the hardness of his erect cock tucked into the front of his pants. You can feel your cunt twitching around nothing, drooling even more for him as you rub yourself against his front, your head falling back as you start to pant.

Shouto whines at the friction, his face falling into the corner of your neck as he tries to gather himself. Was this what he had been missing out on all this time? He sighs as he wonders what you look like completely naked— how you would look with your legs spread for him, wrapped around his skull, or better yet— his waist. The knowledge that you want him is too tempting— he can’t get enough of you, can’t stop himself from shoving his thumbs under the hem of your bottoms. And then you’re standing, letting your clothing hit the floor and leaving yourself exposed for his eyes, save for your panties which have another little bow at the front. His eyes travel up and down your legs— a part of you that has always attracted him, perhaps a bit too much. They look delicious presented like this before him, bare and inviting all along your calves and thighs, then leading to the panties that barely cover your hips. His cock twitches in his jeans as he inspects the marks he’d just made all across your chest, a possessive conscience inside of him murmuring its satisfaction.

“Is this okay?” You ask as you sink to your knees in front of the couch, looking up at him with cautious, yet lust-ridden eyes. The recognition of your desire makes his own appetite spike, and he nods his affirmation to you.

You smirk up at him, moving closer to him and sliding between his legs. He holds his breath as you start to kiss up his thigh, starting from the inside of his knee and moving your way toward your destination. Your hand reaches up to soothe down his chest, your other hand cupping the underside of his thigh and moving in sync with your mouth. Your fingers finally meet the button on his jeans, and he lets out the breath he was holding as you undo the metal zipper. He helps you peel the denim off his thighs, leaving the material bunched at his knees as you inspect his hard member through his tight, black boxer-briefs. You take a moment to thank whatever God there is for blessing you with such a nice cock; you can tell even through his underwear that he’s long, and thick.

The very tip pokes out of the band at the top, him having tucked it up at some point when the pair of you were initially making out. What you can see is dark pink and glazed with a pearlescent sheen of pre-cum, the material at the top of his briefs slightly damp. The legs on either side of you keep tensing and fidgeting, and as you reach a hand for his shaft his hips shift backwards, away from your touch.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, stroking his thigh as you look up at him. His expression is guarded, but you can see the uncertainty that shines through his gaze, the mask that successfully keeps others out futile to you. “Are you sure you want to continue? It’s okay if we stop here, baby.” You push yourself to sit taller using the tops of his knees, placing a long kiss to his cheek and giving him a nuzzle of understanding.

Shouto frowns, leaning into you and taking a deep breath. “No, I want to… I just, I guess I’m a little nervous? I’m not quite sure what to do…” he explains, unsure of himself.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you reply, kissing his cheek again as you continue. “Just sit back and relax, baby. I promise I’m gonna take care of you, gonna make you feel so good. Let me know if you want to stop at any time, alright?”

He smiles at your understanding, nodding and verbalizing an “Alright” before you capture his lips with yours. You kiss him with all the passion you can muster, and it distracts him enough to relax into the couch cushions, your hand coming up to cup his sharp jawline. Your tongues are busy tangling together when your hand lands on his abs, which jump under your touch but eventually they, too, relax after a few minutes.

When your fingers wrap around his cock through his briefs, he tenses underneath you again, his hips pushing toward you as your hand starts to move up and down. Shouto makes a muffled noise as your hand finds a steady, torturously slow rhythm, your hand squeezing around his thick shaft through the dark, cotton material. His hand comes up to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of your neck and pulling slightly. You move your hand in accordance with the muffled sounds that escape him through your kiss, his hushed moans adding fuel to the inferno in your stomach.

After a few minutes of your slow, over-the-briefs handjob, you move back from his searing kiss, a string of saliva extending between your mouths. Your eyes lock with his, intensity sizzling as you both move the briefs off his legs, his cock springing upright in the bottom field of your vision. His length jumps when your fingers brush against the tip, gathering the silvery slickness of his pre-cum and using it to coast your fist down around his shaft, squeezing just enough to create a pleasant tightness around him.

Shouto swears as you start to jerk your fist around his thickness, your smaller hand creating a different sensation and much more appealing visual than the sight of his own fingers wrapped around himself. He moans when your hand glides over the head of his cock, his grip tightening on your hair as his eyelids flutter closed. You kiss his cheek again, catching his attention as he turns to you and allows your tongue to enter his mouth. You take all the whimpers pouring from his lips and greedily swallow them, your lips dancing with his in tune with your strokes.

Slowly you move away from his face, his lips following yours until you gently push him back to rest against the back of the sofa again. He allows you to move him backwards, heaving for air as your hot and heavy kisses leave him breathless. Once you lower your face to his lap, he tenses up, although his hips shuffle forward eagerly. You make sure to lock eyes with him as you move your mouth towards the flushed head of his cock, and you keep his gaze steady as your lips wrap around the very tip of him.

“S-Shit Y/N,” he gasps, watching as his member gradually disappears into your mouth. You glide your lips down his thick length slowly, trying not to overwhelm him as you start to suck on the tip, your hand beginning to jerk his shaft at the same time. When your lips move down, so does your hand, and as Shouto becomes accustomed to the wet, tight heat of your mouth, you slowly take more and more of him into your mouth, until the head of his cock brushes the back of your throat. Shouto throws his head back onto the top of the cushions, a hand pushing his hair off his forehead and backwards as he loudly voices his pleasure in a cacophony of moans.

The noises that slither out of the man underneath you are delicious, and you can’t seem to get enough as your pace begins to pick up. Your hand is still wrapped around the base of his length, his cock too big to fit all the way in your throat, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to take him anyways. Pulling back just long enough to take in a breath of fresh air, you smile at his wrecked expression above you, tongue tracing over your lips. “Mmm, does that feel good, baby? Do you like when I suck your cock like this?”

“Ahhaaaa, fuck— y-yeah, like that, baby… yesyesyes you feel so good,” Shouto blabbers nearly incoherently as your throat glides around his aching member. Given his stuttered response, you happily service him, content to finally have him at your disposal. His length is too impressive to comfortably fit in your mouth, your jaw stretching to accommodate him as you swallow around him, successfully stealing a broken gasp from him in response. You close your eyes and allow yourself to focus on keeping a steady rhythm for both your mouth and hand to follow. His moans just keep getting louder, a breathless array of oh, fuck, shit, yeah, ahh, and yeses with every bob of your head.

As you’re diligently sucking him off, Shouto is barely keeping it together underneath you. His cock is twitching and leaking pre-cum down your throat, his balls heavy with the need to release. He watches your lips move up and down his length, your hand following suit at the very base. His mind wanders as he wonders where you want him to finish; inside your mouth, on your tits, on your face? He groans as he pictures all three, imagining you covered in his sticky seed, wherever it may end up, has him feeling close much too quick. But he can’t stop himself, and he can’t bring himself to stop you, either— you feel so fucking good on his cock. You’re better than he ever could imagine, and it’s just your mouth that’s wrapped around him— he can’t even imagine how between your legs will feel. He barely manages to mumble your name in warning as he feels his climax coming, too charged for him to do anything to stop it.

Luckily you already know he’s about to finish, for his muscles tighten up and strain as ample warning for his imminent release. You move your lips down his cock, taking in as much as you can before he’s calling out your name and shooting a thick, heavy load down your throat. You choke on his release, not much room in your mouth to begin with, with how long and thick he is already. He’s still gushing cum as you pull off of him, a few ropes of white spraying across your lips and chin while his body shakes in ecstasy.

You sit back and wipe his release off your face with your wet hand, licking the excess off your skin as you watch Shouto’s soul return to his body. He’s struggling to catch his breath, eyes barely open as he looks down at you sitting between his legs. Despite the heaviness in his limbs, he still gathers your arms in his hands, pulling you up onto the sofa to hover over his lap. He sighs as he nuzzles his face into your neck, your soft skin helping to draw him back from the euphoric heaven you had just sent him to. His arms wrapping around you loosely, he starts to kiss your neck, his long eyelashes tickling your jaw as he showers your skin in affection. His attention makes butterflies flap around inside your stomach, and that scorching heat ignites again as his fingers slide down your waist to the band of your panties.

You try to draw back to look at him, but Shouto’s grip on you is too secure, and he won’t let you pull away from him as he just nuzzles deeper into your neck. You can’t help but gasp when his fingers dive underneath the sides of your panties— his palms gliding against your bare hips and digits splaying across your ass. “S-Sho,” you whine as he cups your ass cheeks, pulling your hips to slot above his, his cock already erect again. You whimper when he guides you closer to him, the very tip of his cock catching at just the right angle to brush against the wet patch on your underwear. Hell, the whole underside of your panties is soaked with your arousal, your pussy probably more saturated than ever before. You’re so turned on, you can’t think straight as your hips begin to weakly shift back and forth, rubbing his cockhead along your clothed slit.

Shouto sighs as his hand recedes from your panties, instead moving to rub your dripping slit through the drenched material. You moan at the feeling of his hand through the fabric, your slick in such quantity that when he pulls his hand away, a thick string of your arousal trails after his fingers. He groans at the sight, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together to test the viscosity. He makes a mental note that this must be what’s meant when one has a “wap”, or “wet ass pussy”, as he recalls from a certain song. His heart is racing in his chest, the discovery of your cunt so ready for him only making his cock strain harder against your sopping panties.

“So wet…” Shouto mumbles as he touches you again, cupping your core through your underwear and rubbing his palm against your clit. He watches intently as your face contorts in pleasure, and he rolls his palm against your front again experimentally, making a mental note of your increased sensitivity there.

Before he moves any further though, he presses his lips to yours in an intense kiss, successfully distracting you as he slides your underwear to the side. He can feel your pussy twitch and contract against his hand when he lines the tips of two fingers up with the hole that your slick is pouring out of. And he can definitely feel you spasm around him as he slides the digits inside with ease, remembering to curl the tips of them just as the countless guides and videos he had watched in preparation for such activities suggested.

“Y-Yes, ahh my God, Sho—” you gasp at the intrusion, your walls fluttering around the fingers.

His long digits slowly move in and out of you, the tips curling into your spongy walls as they sheath inside you completely. You moan at the sensation of his fingers inside of you, moving a hand to your front to rub your clit. It’s not long before you’re humping his hand, your arousal leaking onto his palm as you seat your hips back and forth on his fingers. Your mouth is hanging open, intense pleasure emanating from his fingertips rubbing that gummy spot located just deep enough for your fingers to be too short to reach. You can feel your orgasm building with each roll of the hips, a slow and steady escalation toward certain ecstasy.

Shouto moans along with you, watching the look of bliss on your face each time you sit back onto his fingers, and committing it to memory. You look absolutely captivating getting off on his hand, but the urge to feel you wrapped around his cock is too strong to ignore. He pulls his hand out of your cunt, watching as the syrupy slick trails after his fingers before severing, the warm, slimy wetness returning to your spread pussy. The sight is too enticing to just look at— he grabs his cock and jerks himself a few times, watching your slick spread across his length. It feels unlike any other lubricant he’s used— spit, lotion, shampoo all nothing in comparison to the sweet nectar your body produces just for him— simply divine.

If he thinks that’s divine, pressing his cock into you is as if the gates of heaven have been exploded open with dynamite, drowning him in a pool of ethereal ambrosia that he never wants to escape. Your walls stretch around his girth and hug him like never before; it’s wetter, tighter, and hotter than anything he’s ever imagined, and if he hadn’t already cum from your mouth just minutes before, he’s sure he would’ve cum right here and now.

You’re just about there, only a third of his cock managing to push into you before your walls start to clamp, that tension in your abdomen intensifying at an alarming rate. You throw your head back and moan unabashedly as his cock glides into you entirely in one movement, your cunt wringing snug around him as you cum. You’d be ashamed if it were with anyone else, but Shouto’s so thick and long that you just let yourself ride out your orgasm, your cunt pulsing and squeezing him tight. It feels like a religious experience cumming on his cock— he’s by far the biggest you’ve ever taken, and it’s been so long since you’ve had sex in the first place that you’re too turned on to care. A fresh wave of slick begins to leak from deep inside you, the aftermath of your abrupt orgasm coming in handy as you finally come-to enough to move your hips.

Shouto’s holding onto you for dear life at this point, knuckles white as his fingers dig bruises into your hips. He’s never been squeezed so tight before— never felt anything like your pussy, like you cumming on his cock. And even though he’s overwhelmed with the mesmerizing feeling, he still manages to keep his cool somehow, now evening his breath as he begins to thrust up into you. He decides he loves your moans— every noise you make from being impaled by his huge cock is music to his ears, a symphony he never wants to end.

“A-Ahaa ha, Shoutooo~” you cry, fireworks bursting across your nerves. “You’re so big, ah— it— it feels so gooood.”

You can’t seem to close your mouth— it’s too hard to focus on anything besides what might as well be his third leg thrusting into you over and over. His movements are relentless; never allowing you to come down from the high you’d been catapulted into with just one stroke of his cock. He’s so big inside of you, he’s probably the largest you can take while still feeling pleasure instead of pain. You feel like you’re the one losing your virginity here, not him— because, God have you never felt so filled to the brim in your life— his cock stretches and penetrates you so deliciously that you feel like any orgasm you’ve had before this doesn’t really count. It can’t count, can’t compare to this, to him.

Shouto is on the same page as you, desperately drilling into your sloppy cunt as if his life depends on it. It feels so good to be squeezed by your tight little hole, to have your fingernails dig crescent-moons into the skin on his shoulder blades, and hear your desperate cries for him. “Fuck, you— you feel so good, baby,” he pants, letting your pussy fall onto his lap and swallow his cock inside of you. “You’re so fucking sexy, y-yeah… so wet for me, so good for me.”

His praise causes a wave of goosebumps to rise across your skin, a burst of energy surging through you as you start to move your hips in sync with his thrusts. Shouto’s pace weakens as he lets you take control, sitting back and absorbing the pleasure that flows through his entire body at the quick snap of your hips. He feels like he’s in a trance as your hands move to grip the tops of his shoulders, leveraging yourself so your hips swing in a perfect arc that allows his cock to glide in and out of you completely. He watches as your hips swing back, the head of his cock slipping out of you halfway, only to be slurped back inside your tight heat all the way to the base.

Sweat is starting to accumulate and drip down your bodies, but neither of you are paying attention to that— Shouto reaches out and gropes your chest, fingers trapping your nipple and rolling it gently. You mewl at the sensation, your hips working even faster now, the dull ache of another climax forming in the pit of your stomach. You furiously hump his lap, your thrusts becoming off-beat and sloppy as your muscles scream with exertion. Frustration blooms in your heart— your stamina must have reduced in the past few months of abstinence.

“Sho, I’m… gonna cum again, fuck I’m so close,” you whine, pushing your ass onto his lap and stirring your guts with his cock as you swivel your hips.

Shouto hums at your confession, an arm winding around your hips and his hand landing on the plush underside of your thigh. His fingers dig into your flesh as he supports your body with his arm, his hips rutting up into yours with force. Each thrust has stars dancing along the borders of your vision, the power behind his hips much stronger than your desperate humping from before.

“I wanna feel you cum on my cock again, Y/N,” Shouto moans, tongue poking out to flick against your nipple, your tits in his face due to the change of position. “Want you to squeeze me and milk everything out of me, y-yeah…”

You nearly scream when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves with vigor as those two-toned eyes bore into yours. The surprise quickly morphs into bliss, your cunt wringing around his length as you feel yourself hurtle toward your orgasm for the second time. It’s not long before you’re there, ecstasy rushing through your entirety as you clutch onto him tightly, your toes curling and body shaking from the rush.

“Fuck,” he swears, both hands moving to grab your hips and pound his cock into your quivering cunt, delivering another level of pleasure to your orgasm. His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth, eyes darting between your face and your wet pussy that keeps swallowing him whole. “Ahaah— c-cumming—”

Shouto lets out a loud groan as he pulls out of you, hot, white ribbons of cum spurting across your stomach as he climaxes. Your hand reaches down to jerk him off and he continues to paint your skin with his seed, his body shaking as his orgasm ripples through him. His throbbing length is slick with your love juices, making it easy for your fingers to slide around him.

His head hits the back of the couch as he releases the last of his load, chest heaving while he tries to collect himself. The devastating pleasure of your climax leaves your body feeling weightless and your brain loopy, and all you can do is lean against his athletic physique and catch your breath.

“I love you,” Shouto whispers seriously in your ear, fingers deftly playing with the ends of your hair. He means it; he feels like his heart is so full of happiness, and he’s so comfortable basking in the afterglow of his orgasm with your naked skin on his.

You stifle the laugh that bubbles up in your throat, a small smile playing on your lips. “So sweet~” you tease, cuddling your face into his neck as his hands rub the length of your back. “I love you too, Shouto.”

Shouto hums in content, arms hugging you tight against him for a brief moment before he relaxes again. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he confesses softly, nudging the side of your face with his nose. He can feel your lips turn into a grin against his chest, and he smiles at your content.

“You’re being so sappy right now,” you point out, unable to stop smiling as you turn to look at him. “I really like this side of you, I’m happy to see you like this.”

“I’m happy, too,” he murmurs, his lips pressing against yours in a sweet and short kiss. “I kind of wish we did this sooner though…”

You laugh at that, and his soft smile turns into a grin that he doesn’t bother to conceal. “Mmm, I think it was worth the wait,” you disagree, snuggling closer to him and rubbing your skin against his affectionately.

Shouto looks down at you resting against his chest, examining your blissful smile and eyes closed in content. Yes, he thinks.

You were worth the wait.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

wow that ended so soft pls excuse me im on my period and so emotional at the moment lmfaoooo... okokokok but post coitus snuggly sho is KILLING M E ... anywAYY lol let me know if you enjoyed!! this was kinda different from the usual smut i write so! i’d love any feedback i could get :)

as always, thanks for reading! 💗

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#todoroki shouto smut #todoroki shoto smut #todoroki smut #bnha smut #mha smut #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my fics

2K notes · View notes

pillage-and-lute · 4 years

Note

Prompt: fake realtionahip/marriage, whoever you like!

Ooohoho! This has been chilling as a draft for ages, now I have completed it. *mildly evil laughter*

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

The funny thing about Geralt, Jaskier thought as he did up the buttons on his best doublet, was that he really didn’t lie. He said things that weren’t true, but they were usually things he believed, or thought he believed because he was tired or grumpy. Sometimes he told half truths. He didn’t lie though.

It wasn’t even as if he didn’t have a poker face, Geralt’s face was all poker face, he just hated lying. Normally it wasn’t an issue, but tonight, Jaskier reflected, it wouldn’t be ideal.

Jaskier had heard through some whispered words at a pub that a bunch of Nilfgaardian nobles were having a gala, and the temptation of finding out what political secrets they could was two strong for their odd little family. So Geralt and Jaskier were going undercover.

There had been quite a bit of debate about that. Jaskier was obviously going. He’d grown his hair longer and had a bit of scruff going, and to be frank, all a bard really needed to disguise themselves was a new name, people saw the clothing and heard the music, but rarely remembered the face. Yennefer would have been the ideal partner in crime except for a crucial thing.

When Yennefer had been changed by magic, her eyes had been left the same. Somehow, the transformation had solidified them, and no spell would change them. Her eyes were too distinctive, and so she would stay behind with Ciri. That left Geralt, and since the ball was only for the nobility, he would be the fiance of Julian Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove.

Damn.

See, Geralt didn’t lie, and that was bad enough. Jaskier wouldn’t be able to rely on Yennefer’s in-depth knowledge of the nobility and that was worse. Worst of all though, was the fact that Jaskier would have to spend a night full of wine and dancing pretending to be in love with, and engaged to, Geralt. Who he loved.

And who had, not three months ago, blamed Jaskier for every bad thing in life.

Since then Geralt had caught up with him half-way down the mountain and there had been some grumbled words about how Jaskier ‘wasn’t actually, exactly, a total curse’. Not a glowing review, but then Cintra had fallen, and they had Cirilla and they’d found a wounded Yennefer and it had all gotten so very busy.

Jaskier cast a last look in the mirror as the door to his room creaked open. He turned, expecting Geralt, but it was Yennefer.

“I suppose,” she said, eyeing him. “That this is as good as you get.” It could have been said cruelly. A year ago it would have been. Now, though, the words were fond.

“I like the kohl, it goes well with the wrinkles at your eyes,” she winked. He smiled. There were no more wrinkles now than had been twenty years ago, and they both knew it.

“I wasn’t sure about the eyeliner,” Jaskier said, trying to sound haughty. “Overdramatic eye looks are your thing.”

Yennefer chuckled and sat on the end of the bed. “A tiny smudge of eyeliner is hardly overdramatic.” She studied him approvingly, then looked at him. Her expression was frighteningly soft.

“Have you told him that you love him?”

“Never,” Jaskier said, fiving his cravat in the mirror.

“Why ever not?”

“It would only be the mountain all over again,” Jaskier sighed. “I tried, you know. I spent years trying, and then on the mountain, I thought I was being clear...”

“What did you say?”

“I asked him to leave it all, just for a little while, with me. I thought we could go to the coast.”

“The coast,” Yennefer said from her spot on the bed. “As in Lettenhove? You wanted to show him where you grew up?”

“Partially. I could explain the immortality business easier if he met my sister, but mostly I just thought it would be peaceful.”

Yennefer snorted. “With Geralt? Peaceful? He’d spend the whole time fighting drowners and telling you not to write about mermaids because they’re vicious.”

Jaskier smiled wanly. “That’s pretty peaceful for him.”

“But he said no?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Jaskier said. “Then he, well, you know, he spent the night in your tent.”

“Ah,” Yennefer said. “For what it’s worth, I hate that it happened too.”

“He doesn’t though!” Jaskier cried, whirling around to face her. “He wants it to happen again! And you! You don’t want him but he wants you while I want him!” The frustration of the whole situation and nerves for what was to come were overwhelming. “And you’re here, trying to help me,” he said more quietly. “Why?”

“Because I like you,” Yennefer said, simply, standing from the bed. “And I like him. I also never, ever want to kiss him again. The djinn is sitting, somewhere in my chest, telling me I love him, but the feeling is...sick. It feels like love, as well as I can remember, but it’s poisoned and twisted and I want no part in it.”

Her purple eyes pinned Jaskier to the floor.

“And that poison pales in comparison to how much you love him. He deserves that.”

She swept out the door, tossing a “Sort it out,” over her shoulder.

Well.

The next knock at the door was Geralt, Ciri in tow. Jaskier hoped the witcher hadn’t heard any part of his and Yennefer’s conversation, but he suspected that no one overheard conversations that Yen didn’t want them too.

“Dandelion!” Ciri said, leaping at him and using the name she’d first met him under. “You look nice! Like a prince in one of your stories!”

Jaskier blushed and thanked her quietly as he scooped her up and tossed her, laughing, onto the bed.

He looked at Geralt for his opinion.

Oh he looked so good too. Yennefer had charmed him so that anyone else would see a different man in Geralt’s place, but to Jaskier he looked just the same. But he was wearing white.

A white chemise, the collar and cuffs with fine red embroidery, with a cream colored cape, half length so it fell just to Geralt’s hips. It was embroidered too, green and pink and so many other colors, despite being overall still mostly cream. The pants were the same creamy fabric with a stripe down each side. Dark boots and a wide, decorative, dark belt completed the look.

“Wow,” Jaskier said.

“Rivian traditional clothing,” Geralt muttered.

“I thought you’d hardly actually been to Rivia,” Jaskier said,.It was a better choice than the other thoughts in his head, which were half-formed screams about how absolutely skin tight those pants were.

“I haven’t been, but my...character is.”

“Right,” Jaskier said, dragging his eyes above Geralt’s shoulders. “My fiance, Ludomir of Rivia.”

Geralt said nothing.

Jaskier kicked himself for mentioning the fiance thing.

“We should go,” he said.

And they went.

The lord’s castle was small, as castles go, and the guards at the gate didn’t even bother to check their invitations. With all the other lords and ladies streaming past, no one would guess that the pair were out of place. Jaskier and Geralt enterred the ballroom and Jaskier felt his stomach drop straight through to his shoes.

The walls were positively lined with Nilfgaardian soldiers. Geralt’s shoulders stiffened too, but they steered themselves to a feast table as if nothing was wrong.

It took them almost a full circle of the tables to find the two little cards for ‘Viscount de Lettenhove’ and ‘Guest’. Getting onto the guest list had been laughably easy, and Jaskier just sent up a silent prayer of thanks that the stupid title was finally useful for something.

They sat in their places and guests populated the seats around them. There was a lady next to Jaskier who already smelled of the strongly alcoholic sherry that was being served. Her hair, probably a wig towered, and was strung all over with so many pearls and little tiny golden ornaments that when she stepped outside she must surely be attacked by magpies.

“My lady,” Jaskier said, as chivalrous as he could around a mouthful of her rose perfume. “I’m afraid we haven’t had a chance to be introduced.”

“Oooh,” she giggled, “You’re sweet, I’m Dame Au’Vigne, and I can see by your card that you are the Viscount de Lettenhove, I knew your father.”

Yes, Jaskier thought. I remember, he turned down your proposal. Jaskier had been a lad then, barely eight years old, but he remembered through a child’s eyes a mountain of lace and perfume who had offered to marry his father while actually at his mother’s funeral.

“It’s a pleasure,” he said. Heinous bitch, he thought. He remembered rumors too, which are always a bard’s stock and trade, that Dame Au’Vigne’s husbands were always wealthy, usually handsome, and all of them had shockingly short lifespans.

Rumor also had it that she was backing Nilfgaard financially and had been playing the shipping stock with insider knowledge of their movements. A very good person to be seated next to tonight.

“May I introduce my fiance, Ludomir of Rivia,” Jaskier said, gesturing to Geralt. Geralt nodded and hummed, somewhat politely.

“How handsome,” Dame Au’Vigne stage whispered. “Where ever did you find him?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Jaskier said.

The lord of the castle stood up and gave a droning speech. It was full of euphemisms about ‘upholding standards’ and ‘fostering strong relations’ that boiled down to ‘I’m an untrustworthy bastard who believes that allowing the deaths of my people en masse is fine so long as I make money.’ It was depressing, too, as Jaskier looked around the ballroom to see so many people nodding in agreement.

Traitors and bastards, the lot of them.

Geralt’s face hadn’t changed even an inch.

“So,” Dame Au’Vigne said as the appetizer course was served. “You two aren’t exactly in a honeymoon phase, are you?”

And she was right, for a couple, newly engaged, Jaskier and Geralt hadn’t acted the part yet at all.

“I’m afraid,” Jaskier said, inventing wildly. “That we’re both just a touch nervous, the engagement is so new, you see, and this is our first event,” he took Geralt’s hand, above the table, so Dame Au’Vigne could see. “As a couple.”

“Oh how sweet,” she said airily. “You know, they’ll have dancing between the courses, it’ll be a great way for you to wet your social feet. Sir Erdin and the lady in the lavender dress,” she pointed across the ballroom. “They’re newly engaged as well.” She lowered her voice.

“Sir Erdin is very supportive of the cause, word has it he’s in with the very inner circle,” Dame Au’Vigne giggled, as if being in the inner circle of a murderous group of intruders was as delightful as a recent engagement.

“How interesting!” Jaskier said, affecting a jealous and impressed tone. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Geralt’s eyebrow twitch, the way it did when he was listening hard.

“Oh yes,” Dame Au’Vigne said. “And Lord Snapcase, in the corner, he...” and she went on, was the marvelous thing, she couldn’t seem to help herself but gossip about everyone. And she had all these details about how they were helping ‘the cause’. Destiny must have finally decided to throw Jaskier and Geralt a bone.

Then the appetizer course was finished and Jaskier felt much less lucky. Dame Au’Vigne was ushering him and Geralt out of their seats to dance. It wasn’t one of the quick, hopping around, switching partners dances either. No, the band seemed insistent on only slow, romantic music.

Awkwardly, Geralt slid one large hand around Jaskier’s waist and they turned in slow circles on the dance floor. The witcher’s face looked like a thunderclap.

“Try and look like you’re having fun, darling,” Jaskier said. Please don’t look at me as though holding me is torture, his inner self begged.

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. Jaskier leaned in.

“Really dear heart,” he leaned in even closer, lips almost touching Geralt’s ear. “People are going to suspect something,” he said in the barest of whispers.

“Let them,” Geralt hissed back in the same fashion. “We’ve got the information, we can leave.”

Jaskier, keeping up appearances, tossed his head back and let out a delighted shriek of laughter, as if Geralt had just told him a joke or, perhaps, made a wonderfully indecent proposal.

“Later, perhaps,” he said, stage-whispering for the sake of those around them. Leaning in again he whispered for real, “We can’t leave until the party’s over, no one else will, they’d send some of those soldiers after us for sure.”

The music changed, and Geralt and Jaskier’s slow circles changed speed with it.

Geralt hissed in his ear again, “I don’t see why I had to be your,” this close Jaskier could see Geralt’s jaw working with distaste. “Lover.”

“Fiance,” Jaskier said, trying not to let his heart sink. It couldn’t possibly go any lower. “There’s a difference.”

They said no more to each other, and after the second dance, declined the third to sit back at their seats and await the arrival of the soup course.

The man sat beside Geralt was some old military man, mostly mustache and the rest of him was a rather musty and very old fashioned uniform. It had gold braid and a colonel’s insignia. The hat that sat next to his chair had a plume.

He leaned over to Geralt and said, rather loudly, in a voice that implied tone deafness, to both volume and social situations, “Just marrying him for the money, eh?”

People to both sides of Jaskier and Geralt looked around. Dame Au’Vigne looked at them askance.

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. It was a negative answer to the colonel’s question, but the man didn’t take it as such.

“Often is the way,” the man nearly bellowed. “My missus hated me right up to the day she died.”

Jaskier curled in on himself. The role of Viscount wasn’t a big one, mostly administrative and, these days, completed by his sister Rowena, who was better at sitting behind a desk. Still, argued a battered part of his long ago but still proper upbringing. The name of Pankratz was being dragged through the mud. Lots of these people would know the name too, these sour, vindictive, unpleasant, murderous people. And they’d know the gossip, would have taken part in the gossip about ‘Young Julian running off to be a bard,’ (this generally said with the same tone as is usually leant to slave trader) and how ‘he’ll never find a good marriage now,’ how he was ‘a disgrace to the name.’

And here was their long awaited confirmation. Jaskier-Julian, couldn’t find a good marriage, was being wed only for his money. Of course, more than half the pairings here were only in it for the money, but to have it said, so loudly too, and before the wedding had even happened, it was social condemnation.

Jaskier looked down at the table cloth, his face hot. He’d faced social condemnation before, of course, he’d survive. What hurt was that Geralt wasn’t really protesting, Geralt couldn’t even pretend to like Jaskier, not for a single evening. Twenty years he’d done a good enough job of acting to convince even Jaskier, mostly, apart from the punches and the insults and...maybe Jaskier had been a little blind to the truth but still.

It was ruining their cover though, so he protested quietly. “Not just for the money,” he said, patting Geralt’s hand where one fist wrapped around his goblet. “My fiance is just shy, that’s all.”

The damage was already done, but the old colonel hiccupped. “Well lad,” he said, giving Geralt a slap on the back. “This ale’s pretty good so drink up. Got me through three years of happy marriage, strong ale did.” The man took a slug of his own drink. “And fourty seven more unhappy years.” He guffawed hugely and unpleasantly, little drops of ale flinging from his mustache.

Wherever the soul of the unpleasant man’s dead wife was, Jaskier felt sure she was happy to be away from this miserable old drunk.

Geralt, however, was looking at Jaskier. Their eyes met. Jaskier knew he probably looked as hunted as he felt, and his cheeks were probably still burning from the embarassment. Still, it seemed as though Geralt was about to say something. His golden eyes were full of emotion, but Jaskier couldn’t parse out what kind.

Whatever kind it was, it caused Geralt to take the colonel’s advice and drink like there was no tomorrow.

Great. Jaskier had driven his companion to drinking.

He felt a little like doing so himself.

The soup course was good, hot and savory, but underspiced. Geralt slurped it up gratefully. Jaskier knew that rich food was usually too much for his senses if it was spiced to Jaskier’s taste.

More dancing. Jaskier didn’t stand, at first, assuming that Geralt would rather sit and drink more. There were some snickers as people judged him. Geralt stood though, and he offered a hand and led Jaskier to the dance floor.

“You need to act drunk,” Jaskier whispered in his ear. “If you were a normal man you would be.”

“I am acting,” Geralt rumbled.

“You’re very steady for a drunk,” Jaskier sniffed.

“You said I was shy, now I’m less shy,” Geralt whispered. “And I’ve been drinking. So...drunk.” It was torture, being held like this, having that voice in Jaskier’s ear. That hand, so warm cupping his own. He wanted to cry.

A couple whirled past them. It was the Dame Au’Vigne, gossiping to some new dance partner. A snippet of her words caught them.

“-de Lettenhove. Entirely loveless of course. Unlovable, his father said once, of course as a bard-” then the tide of conversation and other dancers stole the rest of the words.

Jaskier sagged. His father hadn’t been a nice man, and unlovable wasn’t the worst of what he’d been called in his life, but now, with Geralt so close and so disgusted by the prospect...well, it hit a little close to home.

“Laugh,” Geralt whispered in his ear.

“What?” Jaskier hissed.

“Like before, laugh like before, but...more so. Pretend I said a dirty joke.”

Jaskier did, heads turned as he pretended to laugh, half scandalized and half delighted at something Geralt said.

Geralt even chuckled along with him. Then his hand crept down Jaskier’s back to his hip. It wasn’t dirty. It was just so,so spine tinglingly close to dirty.

It was almost worse. If Geralt had gripped his ass that would have been bad, but this, Jaskier was left to speculate. He had a very active imagination. The couples next to them were giggling and tittering, scandalized, but not too much, at the pair.

They danced all three dances. During the second dance Geralt spun Jaskier out and then back in flashily, dipping him over one arm like a dainty maiden. Jaskier, who was no dainty maiden, knew the strength that elaborate dip must have taken and his head spun. The third dance was slow, and once again they simply held one another and turned in slow circles. Except Geralt pressed their cheeks together in a way that was so intimate that Jaskier finally gave in. Just tonight he had Geralt, all of him, his attention, his warmth.

There was only so much a bard could take, and Jaskier gave in to the fantasy.

“I wonder how Yennefer is,” Geralt whispered. “And Ciri.”

It was like having cold water poured all over him. Jaskier’s fantasy shattered as soon as it had formed. Of course Geralt wasn’t enjoying this, of course his mind was elsewhere. He had a beautiful sorceress to think of, even if they weren’t sleeping together. Geralt and Yennefer and Ciri made the perfect, happy family. Where did Jaskier fit in to that?

He pulled back a little, already missing the warmth of Geralt’s cheek against his own. They finished the dance stiffly.

Back at the table, squished between Dame Au’Vigne and the colonel, the main course was awful. Jaskier couldn’t judge it on the food, which he barely tasted. Dame Au’Vigne and the colonel, however, had apparently come to the conclusion that Geralt or, Ludomir, rather, was marrying Jaskier for the money and the sex. They tittered, loudly and drunkely, to those around, and Geralt leaned in.

“Surely we can leave after this course,” he whispered.

Desperate to be rid of the charade, Jaskier thought. To not have to be engaged to me. “Can’t,” he whispered. “Have to stay for dessert and more dancing, else it looks suspect.”

“Hmmm.” It was a displeased hum.

“And, there will be small talk, with dessert. You need to say something, people will think you’re mute.”

“You two twitter into one another’s ears all the time,” Dame Au’Vigne said loudly. She was fully drunk off the sherry and very loud. “But not one kiss,” she lowered her voice, as if trying to be discreet. It didn’t work. “Is it truly as loveless as they say? I know you aren’t waiting until marriage.”

As who say? Jaskier thought. The only person quite that invested seems to be you.

“Not loveless,” Jaskier said. It seemed weak even to his ears.

“Surely you’ll join the dancing again, then,” Dame Au’Vigne said.

“No,” Jaskier said, fiddling with his napkin. “I’m feeling quite too full to dance, ate too fast, I’m afraid.” He hoped she was too drunk to notice he’d picked at his plate. It seemed she was.

“Lovely little veranda, get some air there,” said a man who, according to Dame Au’Vigne, was shipping weapons to Nilfgaard behind the backs of multiple heads of state.

Jaskier nodded,stood, bowed, and made his escape. He sighed, but wasn’t surprised to find that Geralt had followed along behind. Of course he wanted to escape the party too, but Jaskier wanted to escape...him.

To his shame and surprise, he found tears in his eyes. The pressure of sitting in a room chock full of people who wanted to kill him, combined with the fact that every last one of them reminded him of being bullied in school, and add to that that he was supposed to be fake engaged to Geralt...it was too much. Fake engaged and even in their fake engagement Geralt didn’t like Jaskier.

Jaskier’s rational brain knew that Geralt did like him, mostly. He just didn’t love him.

Jaskier leaned his elbows on the railing, overlooking some moonlit gardens, and felt the tears roll down his face.

“They think I don’t like you,” Geralt said quietly.

“Yes,” Jaskier said. He knew Geralt could smell the salt of his tears or whatever, but still turned his face away so the witcher couldn’t see.

“I danced with you though.”

Jaskier chuckled wetly. “Nobles dance with people they hate all the time.”

Geralt was quiet for a minute then, very gently, he took one of Jaskier’s hands. “I don’t hate you.”

It was too much, Jaskier started crying in earnest, sobbing.

“C’mon, Jaskier, I like you. A lot.” Geralt was, for him, panicking clearly. Jaskier almost smiled. He was so bad at dealing with other people’s emotion. And his own.

“You’re my friend,” Geralt said, a little stuntedly. “You know I’m not a good liar.”

Too much. Twenty-two years and he finally said the word ‘friends’ and Jaskier wanted more. He whipped around to face Geralt.

“Tell me the truth, then, Geralt. Tell me you love me, it doesn’t have to be the truth for forever, but can you love me just for a night? Can you make it the truth for tonight?” Jaskier’s tears were ugly and blobby and drying up fast but he continued.

“Because I’ve loved you so long I don’t know any other truth,” He leaned forward and planted his forhead on Geralt’s collarbone and sniffled through the last of his tears, curling one, shaking fist into Geralt’s lovely pale cape as he cried. “Just this one night, Geralt, love me back.”

He hadn’t meant to say any of it, was half expecting Geralt to toss him off the low balcony into the bushes below.

Instead Jaskier was lifted by two strong arms and sat down on the railing. Warm, delightful lips pressed against his and suddenly he was being kissed within an inch of his life.

“The truth, you want,” Geralt said, pulling back and panting. “Is the only one I can give. I can’t pretend to love you.” Here Geralt looked into Jaskier’s eyes, like being struck by lightning. “I only love you, no pretending, I swear it.”

“But-” Jaskier was cut off.

“They think I don’t like you,” Geralt said, furiously. “I think you think I don’t like you, Jaskier I like you, I love you so much I don’t know what to do and I’m...I’m not good with words. Or emotions.” Geralt’s shoulders dropped a little. “I just am, and the way I am is... The way I am is better with you.”

Geralt’s face screwed up with anguish. “And I’m the reason you think I don’t like you, it’s my fault and that feels so...so bad. Yennefer’s been working with me on the feelings thing and always says ‘bad isn’t a feeling’ but I can’t tell you what all the feeling is.”

Jaskier was staring, mouth open, as frustrated, stilted, fumbling words left Geralt’s mouth. They sounded angry, but only at himself. Geralt was looking up at him as if seeking benediction.

“Tell me you love me again,” Jaskier said.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

Jaskier giggled as Geralt lifted him and spun him around before tucking him in close and kissing his forehead.

“I,” he said.

A kiss to Jaskier’s nose. “Love.”

A deep, breathtaking kiss to his lips. “You.”

There was nothing left for Jaskier to say except, “wow.”

Geralt smiled, that lovely warm little smile he saved for special times and offered his arm to Jaskier. “Shall we?”

They paraded back into the ballroom and danced the final dance of the set. Geralt whispered a suggestion of what he’d really like for dessert and this time Jaskier didn’t have to fake the scandalized giggle. “Back home, perhaps,” he said.

Dessert meant more conversation with Dame Au’Vigne, which was of course unbearable. There was plenty of Champagne though, which was pretty good, and the bubbles seemed to fill Jaskier all the way up. He took pleasure in picturing the downfall of all these horrible people when Nilfgaard was finally defeated for good.

He especially enjoyed sticking it to her gossip when he fed Geralt a strawberry with cream from his fingertips and recieved a kiss in thanks. Geralt was clearly enjoying himself too. He had a sweet tooth, and that certainly helped, but his hand that never left Jaskier’s under the table was a much better clue.

They walked back to the inn, flushed and warm in the cool night air, bidding farewell to the other drunken lords and ladies all filtering to finer inns or grand coaches.

Then they were alone on their path back, Geralt’s witcher senses confirming their isolation. Then, Geralt, who never told lies, whispered sweet nothings into Jaskier’s ear the entire way home. Jaskier believed every single one.

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

It’s done, this one’s quite long and I loved writing it. Geralt is useless at playing pretend, but very good at loving Jaskier in his own way. I imagine his emotion lessons with Yennefer must have been rather intense.

#the witcher #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #fake dating #getting together #fluff #fluff and angst #tiny amount of horniness #read with caution

891 notes · View notes

bestiesenpai · 3 years

Text

Inamorata - Sukuna

You have no idea how much I like this idea lol ya know the meme ‘i got a boyfriend, yeah he kills people he’s crazy’ this is exactly what went through my head with this. Femme reader, I went for a...Sukuna is his own person and not attached to Itadori kind of thing? Like just a stand-alone demon. I had probably way too much fun writing this and would be down to write more for this concept

Content warnings: killing/murder/homicide choose your preferred noun, a little yandere?, size difference and Sukuna is in his four armed form, uhmm there’s a knife(main use to cut open readers palm in the beginning) and also licking blood from said wound, violence/gore at the end

Apparently there was a demon on the loose. From what you’d read on online forums and heard through the whispers of older people on the train, there was a foreboding presence terrorizing the city, preying on the weak and helpless and hoping to take over the world.

There were blurry photos and horrible sketches of what the creature supposedly looked like and the form it took, but none of them seemed to match up. The tattoos on the face and body were always off, the amount of muscle and the stature of the creature were all different depending on who you went to.

Which is why you decided, against all better judgement, to go looking for him. All the stories you’d heard about the demon, the kind of creature it was centuries ago in its prime, had intrigued you. With the mystique and terror surrounding this demon, you’d be a fool not to try and get a peek for yourself.

At first you’d tried a summoning circle, clearing a large space in your bedroom and drawing intricate patterns on the floor in hopes of his arrival. That method quickly turned futile as no demon ever came - but now you probably had a few ghosts watching you sleep at night.

The second method was to try and make a pact with the devil himself, slicing open your palm and dripping blood onto the pages of old scriptures. Attempting to sell your soul had worked even less than the first method and all you had to show for it was a bandage around your hand for two weeks.

“I’ll definitely see him now.” You mumbled to yourself, walking straight to where the demon was seen most: the red light district. Walking past bright neon signs and nearly naked women in shop windows, you took a peek into every alleyway you came across.

“Hey pretty lady, what’re you looking for?” A rough, scratchy voice sounded behind you as you walked past the umpteenth alleyway of the night.

“What do you think?” Not looking over your shoulder, you kept walking. The voice, while sounding absolutely disgusting, didn’t belong to a demon and therefore not worth your time.

“I think you’re looking for trouble.” Curling his fingers around your arm, the man you were trying to ignore snatched you back, making you stumble and fall into his chest. The nasty scent of body odor and cigarettes was wafting off the man, making you worry that his stench would cling to you for days.

“Not the kind you’re talking about.” Pushing away from him, you furiously wiped off your clothes. Looking this man in the face irritated you, he was wasting his time and you knew exactly what his intentions were.

“Don’t play so hard to get!” Forcing a less than charming smile on his face, the man made the move to grab you again.

“Don’t touch me!” Slapping his hands away, you took generous steps back from him. “You’re getting in the way of my search.”

“Search?” Quirking a brow at you, the man took a moment to think before his brows rose in surprise. “You’re looking for Sukuna, aren’t you?”

“That’s his name?” You’d never heard his name before, only seeing some people refer to him as a four armed creature from hell.

“Yup, and I’ve seen him a couple times.” Crossing his arms over his chest, the man smirked triumphantly. “You could say he and I have a kind of friendly relationship.”

“Do you now?” Your eyes trailed up from the man to the dark alleyway behind him where two glowing red eyes emerged.

“Oh yeah, Sukuna’s a great guy! Even offered to give me a position in his little army.” The more he spoke the brighter the eyes got and the fuzzy outline of a gigantic body was starting to take shape.

“His little army?” Slowly taking steps back as the figure came forward, you barely had time to react before the man was snatched up by two giant hands and yanked backwards. Lifting him into the air, it wasn’t long before a mouth with gleaming sharp teeth opened up and swallowed him whole.

As the eyes drew their attention back to you, a nervous laugh left your chest that you couldn’t force to stop. Every step you took back was now accompanied by a step forward from the creature until it fully left the alleyway and you saw exactly what you were dealing with.

Right in front of you, in full form and glory, was the demon you’d been searching for. The scrawling black tattoos along his entire body, the four arms, pink hair, second set of eyes and his impossibly muscular physique - all of it was exactly like you’d been hoping for.

“Hello, pretty little thing.” His voice boomed despite being relatively quiet, a slight echo to the deep timbre. It was almost melodic in a way, somehow soothing your racing heart just slightly.

“S-sukuna?” You squeaked out, back meeting the brick wall of a building.

“That would be me.” Chuckling as he stopped a few feet from you, Sukuna crossed his secondary arms and looked down upon you. The sheer height and width of his body easily dwarfed yours, your head only barely reaching his ribcage.

Your eyes couldn’t stay in one place as you looked at Sukuna. There was too much to take in and you could feel yourself quickly becoming overwhelmed trying to commit every detail to memory.

“You’re…” Licking your lips nervously, you could only meet his eyes for a moment before settling on the mark on his forehead. “You’re wearing womens clothes.” Tied around his waist and hanging off his legs was indeed a womens kimono, a surprising pristine white shade.

“That’s what you decide to say at our first meeting?” An echoing laugh bellowed from him and Sukuna shook his head, running one hand through his hair.

“I-I’m sorry it’s just...they never mentioned it online.” It felt a little silly to be explaining yourself to him when at any moment Sukuna could eat you like he did that man and you would have no way of stopping him.

“Little thing, I have a question for you.” Fixing you with a suddenly sharp stare, Sukuna lowered his brow and bent down, placing two arms above your head and two at your side, trapping you in against the wall with no possible outs.

“Yes?” Pinching your eyes closed, you held your breath as you waited for the inevitable bite of his teeth around.

“Are you scared?” Sukuna whispered, his breath fanning out over the top of your head.

“Yes.” It would be a lie to say no and you had nothing to lose by telling the truth. Sukuna’s eyes bore into you, the weight of his stare physically making your back bow.

“What did you think of me eating that man just now? Was that terrifying for you?”

“No.” Sukuna took a pause at your answer and although you couldn’t see it, his brow furrowed for a fraction of a second.

“What did you feel then? Surely you must have thought it was horrible.”

“N-not really.” Slowly cracking one eye open, you looked up at Sukuna, almost breaking your neck from having to stare directly above you. “I was actually quite happy you did that. He was getting on my nerves.”

The barking laugh that left Sukuna’s mouth made you flinch and throw your hands in the air. It was so loud it seemed to vibrate your entire body and a few windows on the building behind you shook from the force.

“You’re telling me you liked me killing that guy?” Grabbing you by the collar of your shirt, Sukuna held you up in the air, eye level to him. You nodded, pitifully kicking your legs out to try and get back to solid ground. “Aren’t you a messed up little thing?” Still laughing, Sukuna took a proper once over of your body. “Pretty, but messed up.”

“P-please let me go!” You whimpered, hands desperately clutching Sukuna’s to try and not fall out of your clothes and onto the ground.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like how I hold you?” Shaking you for good effect, Sukuna smirked wildly at your scared little squeaks. “Tell me your name.”

“It’s (Y/N)!” Shouting into the air, you felt relief flood into you as Sukuna finally lowered you back to the ground and his hands released you.

“(Y/N)?” Sounding it out on his tongue, Sukuna shrugged to himself. “I like ‘little thing’ better.”

“I’m only little compared to you.” Fixing your clothes, you tried to regain your breath and stop your body from shaking so violently.

“So, what’s a creature like you doing out so late at night here? It’s not safe for a human like you to roam around these parts.”

“I was looking for you.”

“Me? You were looking for me?” Sukuna snorted, waving his hand dismissively at you. “A human like you looking for me? I’ve really seen it all.”

“It’s true!” Pulling out your phone, you quickly showed him all the data you’d compiled on him. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Sukuna! I did a summoning circle, I’ve looked in hundreds of online forums - I even tried to make a deal with the devil!” Showing him the mark that was still healing on your palm, the fear that was in your body was slowly trickling out and being replaced with- hope? Excitement? It was hard to say, but as Sukuna grasped your hand between two fingers and looked at your palm, it would be wrong to say it was a negative emotion you felt.

“You really did all that for me?” His voice was much softer now but it still sounded like he was mocking you. Smoothing the pad of one finger across your palm, he felt the ridges of your palm and the wound.

“I did. I find you really fascinating and I- I just wanted to learn more about you.” You faltered when he looked at you, a fierce heat overtaking your cheeks at admitting out loud that you’d been looking for a demon because you found him interesting.

“Are you perhaps interested in me?” A smirk tugged one side of Sukuna’s lip up and he chuckled when your expression only grew more flustered. “Oh little thing, you’re more messed up than I thought.”

“Will you tell me more about yourself? Please?” The words tumbled out of your mouth desperately as you let Sukuna stretch out your arm and grasp your hand more firmly. He didn’t answer you or even acknowledge that you’d spoken, instead grazing the tip of one long sharp nail along the line of the cut.

“I find myself liking you more and more, why is that?” Sukuna’s tone sounded like he was addressing himself as he spoke aloud, turning your hand every which way as he kept scraping his nail against your palm. “Were you my lover in the past, back when I reigned as the ruler of this whole land?”

Racking your brain to try and remember any information on Sukuna potentially having a lover, you were ripped back to reality when Sukuna dug his nail into your skin, reopening the cut and making blood flow freely.

“Ow!” You couldn’t yank your arm out of his grasp and you watched in mild horror as Sukuna lowered himself to your hand, letting his tongue hang out of his mouth and drag across your skin. His tongue quickly became coated in dark red blood, his saliva starting to mingle with your blood.

“You taste so familiar, you must have been mine.” Lapping up your blood now, Sukuna didn’t stop until he could tell you were starting to get weak from blood loss. The lower half of his face was now covered in red, smeared across his skin like paint.

“Sukuna, that’s gross.” The mumble slipped from your delirious mind, making him laugh as he waved a hand over the cut and made it go away. Slipping your hand from his grasp it was like there had never been a mark there in the first place.

“A human telling me what’s gross?” Licking his face clean, Sukuna grinned down at you. The longer he looked at you the longer memories of a past you returned to his mind. The irresistible draw he felt to come to you tonight had been the same one that called to him centuries ago, making you the center of his otherwise cruel and empty world.

Placing two hands on the wall behind you, Sukuna leaned over you once more, this time grasping your chin and turning your face up to him. The saliva that had mixed with your blood had also given you new memories of the past as well, and as you looked at Sukuna you remembered all the things the two of you had done together.

“So, my pet, what shall we do first?”

Sukuna ended up carrying you home, having you tucked inside his kimono as he leaped on rooftops across the city. Opening your bedroom window, Sukuna shoved his body through, having to make himself slightly smaller to fit inside the house.

“Are you uh, hungry?” Standing awkwardly in the middle of your bedroom as Sukuna sat on your bed, you weren’t quite sure what to do now.

“I could eat.” Laying fully back on your bed, it creaked and groaned as Sukuna rested his weight on it. The thought of offering to take him to the kitchen came and went quickly in your head; just getting him into your room was a hard enough task.

Fixing him and yourself a quick meal, as soon as you were done eating Sukuna picked you up and rested you on his abdomen. Even after shrinking himself down your legs were still stretched as wide as possible in hopes of wrapping around his waist.

“As the memories of you return, I realize how much I’ve missed you, my pretty little thing.” Petting down your back, Sukuna looked at you fondly. Propped up on two of his arms, he could stare directly at your tiny body sitting atop him.

“What kind of memories do you have?” So far, the only thing you could seem to recall were memories of a more sexual nature. One’s of you and Sukuna wrapped up in each other's arms, both of his cocks stuffed inside you as you begged to cum.

“I remember giving you the world, whatever you wanted was yours for the taking.” The look in Sukunas eyes was surprisingly soft and you could feel the love coming out from him.

“Whatever I wanted?” Repeating the words, your mouth hung open slightly at all the possible things you could get.

“The world may exist to serve me, but I exist to serve you.” Fully sitting up, Sukuna held you against him as he leaned down, lips grazing your forehead. “What do you want, (Y/N)? I can get you anything in the world, I can do anything in the world.”

“Kill for me.” The whisper that left your lips was almost too quiet for even yourself to hear. But Sukuna nodded, having heard you perfectly. Your words made his body thrum with excitement and his nerves were on edge.

“Kill for you?” He repeated, kissing you on the forehead. The fingers that held you closely dug into your sides and if Sukuna wasn’t careful he could crush you completely.

“You love me, don’t you?” There was just the slightest hint of worry in your voice. What if you were overestimating your power over Sukuna? He could say no or even kill you himself.

“You have no idea what the things my love for you will do.”

Although it pained him to do so, Sukuna left you once the sun began to rise. He had other things to attend to, temples that worshipped him as a god to visit. Promising to see you once dusk began to settle over the sky, Sukuna leapt from your window and into the horizon.

“You came back.” Even though he swore up and down he’d come back, it still shocked you to see him back on your bed once it hit a certain time of night.

“Of course I did.” Sukuna almost seemed hurt you would question him. Holding out a hand, as soon as you grasped one of his fingers he pulled you to him and nestled your body into his side. “Did you do what I asked?”

“The list is in my pocket.” Before leaving, Sukuna had told you to make a list of all the people you wanted him to kill for you. The list had started out short, just a few people that had hurt you that you couldn’t let go of, and then it grew to others, politicians and corrupt people in the media.

“Quite impressive, little thing.” Reading over the list, Sukuna stood up. “Shall we go then?”

“Go whe-” As Sukuna threw open your bedroom window you were met with a strong gust of wind. “Sukuna, where are we going?” You asked him over the wind in your ears. Putting his upper arms into the sleeves of his kimono, he made sure you were nestled safely inside.

“We’re going to take care of the first person on your list.” Wrapping an arm around you, Sukuna jumped out of the window. Though this wasn’t your first time in this position, you hadn’t been fully cognizant when Sukuna took you home last night. Now, with a head clear and no lack of blood to distract you, you could see the lights of the city clearly as they whipped past you.

“It’s beautiful.” Carefully leaning forward, you gazed at the downtown area with all the flashing lights and swerving cars.

“If you say so.” Patting your hip, Sukuna pulled you back, resting your weight fully on his arm and clothes. He wouldn’t admit it, and despite knowing he would catch you in a millisecond, Sukuna didn’t want you to fall out and fall to the ground.

Coming upon the first persons house, he settled you on the ground outside. You were in a tightly knit residential area standing directly under a streetlight, with rows of houses that all looked similar. In a flash, Sukuna had broken into the house and grabbed the person you were after.

“This them?” With a tight grip on their ankle, Sukuna shook them side to side.

“Mhmm.” You didn’t need to look to know he’d gotten the right person, just the feeling you had around them was enough to confirm it.

“W-what’s going on here?!” They screamed, blood pooling in their head the longer they hung upside down.

“Don’t speak.” Sukuna barked, shaking them once again. “You don’t speak to her, or at all.” The person screamed again, a high pitched sound that quickly got shut off as Sukuna swung their body and smacked them against the ground. “I thought I told you to be quiet.”

For a moment you thought they’d died from how hard Sukuna hit them against the ground, but a small whimper and breathless gasps sounded from where their face was crushed against the pavement.

“Do you know why I’m here?” You whispered, standing over their motionless body. Rolling over onto their back, they shook their head and started to stammer. “If you can’t answer my question I don’t want you to make a sound.” Pressing your foot onto their throat, you flinched when their hands came up to try and claw you away.

“Don’t touch her.” Instantly pinning their arms down, Sukuna glowered. “How would you like me to do it?”

“Let me think.” Staring down into their glassy eyes, a million options went through your mind. Sukuna’s power was limitless, there was nothing he couldn’t do. If you asked him to throw their body into outer space, he would do it in a heartbeat. “Rip them limb from limb. You can eat them if you’d like.”

“As you wish.” A sick grin curled Sukuna’s lip and he drug their body across the ground until they were directly underneath him.

“(Y/N) wait! W-wait please!” Their shrill cries fell on deaf ears, and the sound of the first limb being torn off their body was something you could get used to. “Oh- oh my god, my leg!”

“God I wish you’d shut up.” You kept your eyes on the person's face, refusing to look at where blood squirted generously from their now missing extremity.

“Allow me.” With the swipe of one claw Sukuna gouged out their throat. Hot, bright red blood spilled out onto the pavement, pooling and almost making it to where you stood. Throwing one leg into his mouth, Sukuna used a non-bloody hand to lift you up and place you onto a brick wall.

“Thank you.” Giving him a gentle smile, you now had a front row seat to Sukuna ripping apart this person's body and slowly devouring them. There was a mess of blood coating Sukuna’s skin, far more blood than when he had drunk yours.

As you watched Sukuna eat this person, a sense of satisfaction washed over you. It felt good to get justice in your own way for how this person wronged you. After being told to let it go, try and move and let time heal the wound, you could finally get closure the way you wanted.

“All done?” You asked once the last piece of their body was consumed. Standing up to his full height, Sukuna still looked down at you. The blood on his skin began to sizzle off, evaporating into the air and leaving the pungent smile of iron behind.

“Have I made you happy?” He responded, cupping your face and lightly squishing your cheeks. Smiling proudly, a warm flush washed over your face the longer you and Sukuna looked at each other.

“Yes, very.” Nuzzling into his palm and kissing it, you let out a breathless laugh as Sukuna did the same.

“I’m happy to please you.” Kissing you on the top of the head, Sukuna pulled out the list and crossed out the first name. “Shall we go to the others now?”

#tw: violence #tw: blood #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines

266 notes · View notes

revengeisourlullaby · 3 years

Text

If I Never Knew You Pt.1

Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, arranged marriage plot, kinda royal au, some fighting, secret relationship, angst.

a/n: This is going to be a six part series. I’ve never done a series before, but I write so much anyway I thought why not make one. I’ll probably upload each part daily unless there is demand for them to come faster. I hope you enjoy. Requests/asks will be open if you wanna send smth to me! Although I will admit I am kinda slow in finishing requests. I have a lot to balance in my life so my apologies if I don’t get to them immediately!

Word count: 1.8K

Loki x female!reader

The sun shone through the window of your home, the golden rays warming up your cheeks and waking you from your slumber. Sitting up, you stretched, feeling the sleep vibrate out of your body. Tossing the sheets off your body, you swung your legs out of the bed and walked to the bathroom to begin your morning routine. Finishing with tending to the mass of hair on your head you trailed back into your bedroom to change into clothes appropriate for the day. An array of dresses always leaving you indecisive about what to wear.

Settling on an olive green one you walked towards the mirror and fastened the ties around the back of your neck. The loose sleeves draped over your shoulders, cascading down your back, and gold accents adorning the neckline. Finding your shoes, you slipped out of your bedroom, closing the door behind you, and walked down the hallway, the chatter of your family becoming more clear as you near the entrance of the main room.

“Good morning, mother. Father.”

It seemed you had slept in quite a bit, given your parents already eating breakfast. Your mother piped up

“There’s a portion left for you on the counter, my dear.”

Eying the food you decided you weren’t all that hungry yet. You had just woken up and your body had yet to settle. Declining, you grabbed your satchel and began to walk towards the door.

“But Y/N, you should really eat something before starting your day.”

“I’ll be fine, Mom. I promise. I’m just not that hungry right now. I’ll eat when I get back.”

Finally reaching the door, your father chimed in,

“You know, Y/N, just because you try to avoid the obvious, doesn’t mean it’s going to go away any sooner.”

Dropping your head, you sighed. You couldn’t seem to escape the duties of being a young woman in a world where royal obligations were something you were expected to partake in. Upon reaching the age of 18, you were supposed to be on the lookout for a decent suitor of a husband. The fact of the matter was, you were now approaching 22 and had yet to find someone acceptable, not only by your standards but by your parents.

For this uniting of peoples would also be a uniting of families. You had until your 21st birthday to find a man suitable to everyone's liking and if you didn’t, arranged marriage was the next option. No one wanted to be known as the woman in Asgard who couldn’t get a man to offer his hand in marriage, yet here you were in all your glory. It was frustrating.

If only they knew.

“I know, Dad. Things are a little bit harder when I have to seek my parents' approval for my marriage.”

Your tone became short, frustrated at the entire situation. You already had someone, for a while now actually, but you hadn’t the guts to inform your parents because you knew they would shut him down. So you loved in silence. It was more than painful, not being able to be truly open with your lover, but you had yet to find the right time to pour out your heart to your family. Taking a deep breath, your grounded yourself and turned towards the door,

“I’ll be back later, I love you.”

Your mom got to responding before your father did,

“We love you too dear. Make sure to pay attention to who you’re around. Be safe.”

Smiling lightly you finally walked out the door and stepped into the fresh air that was Asgard. It never got old. The scent of the trees and freshwater that surrounded this place sent one into such serenity. Just being outside could allow your mind to drift elsewhere and forget about the troubles in your life. Walking as far as you could from your home you spaced out in the direction you were going.

Coming back to when you accidentally kicked a pebble across the ground. Looking up you found yourself in one of the many gardens that surrounded Asgard. Walking to a marble bench, you scrunched up some of your dress in your hands, folding one leg under you before sitting atop it. Crossing your other leg across it and letting the fabric of your dress fall to the ground.

Pulling your satchel into your lap, you grabbed your journal out of it and began to sketch the garden in front of you. Paying special attention to the detail of the flowers, wanting to make sure you entirely captured the essence of their beauty on paper. Lost in concentration, you failed to hear the footsteps approaching behind you. It wasn’t until you felt a hand rub small circles into your shoulder that you turned around.

Hair fell in your face, obscuring your view of who was in front of you. Bringing your hand up to place your hair away from your face you dropped your pen on the ground. You went to reach for it, but a separate pair of hands grabbed it first.

“You seem to be quite the mess today, my darling.”

A genuine smile stretched across your features before looking up into the enchanting blue of his eyes.

“Loki, hi! What are you doing out here?”

Sitting down next to you, careful to avoid your dress he spoke,

“Well, I was informed that a beautiful lady was sitting in the garden in front of the palace so of course, I had to go inspect the situation. And upon seeing a stunning shade of green draped over the bench, I had to introduce myself.”

An airy laugh left your throat, blithe being showcased across your being.

“If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you fancy this beautiful woman.”

“How could I not? Her beauty extends beyond the physical. She's incredibly intelligent and the only one to unconditionally show kindness and love to those who deserve it. It’d be incredibly injudicious of me to not be aware of that.”

“Alright, alright Loki, you’ve buttered me up enough.” you chuckled

“It’s never enough, darling. And it’s not buttering you up if it’s true, which it is. So, against your wishes, I shall continue to do it.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. Looking down at his hands, you placed yours on top of his and gazed into his eyes once more. Glancing down to his lips and back up to his eyes, you slowly leaned in, Loki meeting you halfway. A kiss so tender you forgot it was Loki whose lips were tangled in a dance with your own.

Loki moved his hand out from underneath yours and placed it on your cheek. You pulled away from the kiss and nestled your head into his hand, his thumb caressing your cheek allowing you to relish in the moment of being with each other. Flashing your eyes back up to his you asked,

“Shall we go for a walk?”

“Why not?”

Stuffing your journal and pen back into your satchel you untangled your legs and got up from the bench, Loki helping you stand up so that you didn’t trip on your dress. Taking your hand in his own, you two walked through the garden on a path that would eventually lead you to the entrance of the palace.

“I’ve missed you Loki. I always miss you, I hate being away from you.”

“I know my love, I do as well, but you of all people know our predicament.”

You stopped in your tracks and turned in haste to stop him as well, making him face you. You brought both your hands up to cup his face, an idea flashing bright behind your eyes,

“Well, maybe we can change it! We can be the change to get rid of this stupid rule. I can’t imagine my life without you Loki. I don’t want to have to share my world with someone else. It’s only ever going to be you.”

Bringing his hands up to your wrists, he looked deep into your eyes, sorrow and hope swimming behind his facial features.

“Maybe we can, although we have to prepare for the worst...but that doesn't mean we can’t try.”

Giving a small smile, he moved his hands to the back of your head, thumb caressing your temple, and leaned in to kiss you. Giving you all the reassurance you could’ve asked for. Pulling away from each other you continued down the path hand in hand. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, serenity washing over you.

Opening your eyes, you realized you were closing in on the front of the palace meaning you would now be in the public eye and the last thing you wanted was more gossip to fall upon you. Looking at your lover, you stopped walking, halting him in his tracks. Forcing him to turn around and look at you.

“What is it?”

You sighed, suddenly being overcome with emotion.

“Well, if we walked any further, everyone would see us and I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble for you…”

“...Trouble? For me?”

Loki scoffed, his signature smirk following.

“Love, all I’m known for is for causing trouble, I wouldn’t mind another notch on my belt.”

You were hesitant. You loved Loki and you knew your feelings were reciprocated through him, but it was difficult breaking from the chains of what you ‘were supposed to do’. It left you in such dissonance and yet you felt in your heart to rebel so fiercely that Asgard would immortalize your change. Your silence alerted Loki and he spoke again,

“Y/N, if we are to ever make any sort of change we cannot hide in the shadows anymore. We cannot separate and scatter like roaches when the light is shined upon us. We must bask in it. That is the only way we can possibly aspire to reach our goal of loving one another in true fulfillment.”

“You’re right.”

“I always am.”

You placed your hand back in his and Loki smiled down at you.

“Ready to have the target on your back, Y/N?”

“As long as you’re by my side, I can handle anything.”

Walking out of the secluded area of the garden, you finally stepped into the light. For the first time in the last year being open about your courtship with Loki. Asgard’s God of Mischief and your parent’s worst nightmare. You felt armored for anything to be hurled in your direction with Loki was by your side and always would be.

The anxiety of it all had yet to drain from your bones and you couldn’t help but draft up ‘what ifs’ in your head. As if Loki was scavenging through your brain, he gave your hand an inspiriting squeeze, bringing you back into your body and out of your head. If only you knew how the whispers of your choice in partnership would rain the fires of hell all too soon.

#loki #loki fanfic #Loki Laufeyson #loki x reader #marvel fanfic #loki imagine #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x reader #marvel imagine #marvel x reader

164 notes · View notes