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#this looks like something that would take me literally forever to finish
rotthepoet · 11 hours
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I saw you say you have writers block so feel absolutely zero pressure to do anything with this, it was just a thought I felt like you could appreciate w/ me! I saw a Ron work forever ago (cannot remember the author unfortunately) where he was your bestie and you went on a date and came back unsatisfied from your date/hookup so he took it upon himself to take care of you but can you just for a moment imagine that situation with bestie Theo 🥹
He’s already angry because you’re his girl, and pretty much everyone in the school knows that so he cannot believe the audacity of some boy asking you on a date to begin and then for you to come back teary eyed and frustrated?! He felt like he could kill the guy for it. But obviously he’s not going to leave you like that- he’d never. So he fingers you with his pretty, thick, ringed fingers until you’re so relaxed against the bed that you’re not even sure you could stand. BUT You want more. He’s so hot and god the things he whispered in your ear while he had his fingers inside you were to die for. So you ever so sweetly blink up at him, batting your eyes so cutely, and ask him to pretty please fuck you. And of course, he happily obliges.
Other boys don’t ask you on dates anymore.
Maybe you call him daddy idk I can’t really make up my mind if that would be something he’d rock with or not
oMG I DO APPRECIATE THISSS I LOVE IT
nasty ass Slytherin boys i love toxic and manipulative men 🙏
Because Theo is literally pissed all week, Mattheo keeps making a joke that hes on the rag, because theo is unfocused, smoking constantly, adhd off the wall, shits going down
If the slytherin dorms didnt have stone walls there would 100% be a hole in them.
Regardless, He’s fucking pissed. Especially the day that uou go on the date. Hes staying up all night, pacing in the common room because his ruminating was too loud for his dorm mates, and in you walk, heels in your hand, lips downturned and obviously pissed off.
And omg theo is about to kill a man. Because why the fuck do you look so fucking upset??? Holy shit.
“Bella, whats wrong? What did he do?”
“It’s not what he did, its what he didnt do. Couldn’t do, i guess.”
“Oh?”
“…”
“Oh.”
And i mean. Theo cant just leave his girl hanging, all needy and clearly unsatisfied. He approaches you, slowly, afraid you might run away. He holds your face in one hand, leaning into your ear and promising he’ll make it all better. That he’ll step up as your best friend, this is what friends are for, right?
And god when his lips are kissing down your neck, biting and sucking over the marks your failed date had left, making them his own, you cant even argue.
So its really no surprise when he has you in your bed, your dorm miraculously empty for this time of night, and uour back is to his chest, and his fingers are spreading apart your folds, and he’s mumbling so sweetly in your ear. And fuck its so hood. Its SO good. You’re finishing in now time, pussy spasming around his long fingers, the once cold metal rings now warm and stained with your arousal.
But its not enough. Nothing will ever be enough when it comes to theo. And youre so fucking whiney and pathetic and how coukd theo say no when you practically beg him to fuck you, to fill uou to the brim with his hard, heavy cock.
I mean, he would never have said no anyways.
And so there you are, face down in bed, your tears being kissed away as Theo brings you to release over and over again, your core all puffy and sensitive from overstimulation.
He isn’t stopping until half your neck is purple with his love bites, and hes sucked a makeshift “T” into your shoulder, marking you as his.
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brutal-out-here · 11 months
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Oh I have a terrible idea
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fairyysoup · 3 months
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easy living
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pairing: eric (a quiet place: day one) x fem!reader
summary: You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?
tags: smut, oral (f receiving), dry humping, piv sex, silent fucking, angst, hurt/comfort, survival, discussions of trauma, slight suicidal ideation by reader, words of affirmation as a love language, stay silent or die (obviously), strangers to lovers, apocalyptic, the cheesiest ending bc it's me writing, billie holiday lyrics bc it's also me writing
a/n: here it is, the silent fucking fic i promised y'all a year ago when this movie was announced. it was supposed to be like 1-2k words of plain smut but then I got too into the theory of what one does when you can't show affection through words and I genuinely discovered a tidbit of trauma I didn't know I had while writing it so I will be talking to a therapist about it, and also I'm literally out here baring my soul lol.
i also want to thank @bigtiddythanos @raraeavesmoriendi and @maximoffwxnda for supporting me throughout this writing process <3 this fic literally would not have been finished or published without y'all
ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
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The rain has ended. Morose, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll get something close to free reign with your voice again. 
Of course the world had to end while you were at fucking Whole Foods.
You’ll miss certain things. Things you always took for granted, that you never even considered made a lot of noise until now. Typing on the computer. Making stir fry. Microwaving a burrito at 3am. Lighting a match, washing your face. Taking a shower.
And other things, too, that are more obvious, like singing while making cookies. Slurping the bottom of a milkshake. You’ll never be able to have a pet bird. You’ll never be able to see another concert again, and damn it if you didn’t really want those Glastonbury tickets a month ago. But it all just seems trivial, now. You don’t see why you shouldn’t just lay here on the couch forever. 
On the other side of the coffee table there’s a gentle shuffling. Eric rouses as quietly as he can; at the very least, your apartment creates a hospitable enough environment that he isn’t startled awake. It’s so silent in the apartment that you can hear the slight shift in his intake of breath, the rustle of the pillow as he turns his head to look at you. 
You want to look at him, but you fear that you’ll end up wanting to talk. So, you say nothing. You do nothing. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling and you wonder whether it would be better to get on one of the boats headed out into the water, or to move inland, away from people, away from sound. There has to be somewhere far enough away from the city that the… creatures won’t go, right?
Eric waves his hand in your periphery, so that you have no choice but to acknowledge that you know he’s awake. You have no choice but to turn your head and look into the depths of his eyes, and feel all the pain of the last 48 hours return to you. You’d been able to talk last night, just enough, in time with the rain and the thunder– enough to learn that he has family across the world. 
You can’t imagine knowing that somewhere, across an ocean and half a world away, your parents may or may not be dead. No way to contact them, no way to know what’s become of them. You can’t even begin to fathom the fear that he’s feeling, as much as you’re despairing. 
Eric’s big eyes tell you everything. Sadness and fear, and trying to grasp at the smallest hint of normalcy he can get. He blinks at you, and mouths, You okay?
No, you’re definitely not okay. Things are not okay. Things are broken and can’t be fixed. Things will never be the same again. He knows that, as much as you know that. But you nod anyway, even though you feel your heart beat a little bit slower than usual, like it wants to just go ahead and give up already. Tears prick at your eyes, and you have to close them before you let on that you’re lying.
Eric knows you’re lying, of course. How could anyone be okay, in this kind of situation? But he waits until you open your eyes, and then he mouths, Coffee?
You let out a small sigh of relief, and a smile that’s indescribably warm crosses your face. Even though he can’t make a sound, he knows exactly what to say.
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You don’t have a coffee maker that doesn’t also make a ton of noise. But through some kind of witchcraft, Eric quietly empties two k-cups into a glass measuring cup and boils a soup pot full of water on the stove, and suddenly you have hot coffee in front of you. 
On a notepad left on the counter, you write, Wish I had some tea for you. 
Eric’s lips turn up at the edges, and he takes the pen from you. You’re able to doctor your coffee for about one second before he slides the notepad back to you.
Bloody American.
Your ensuing huff of a laugh is enough to make him turn pink around the ears, and he turns to place the dirty measuring cup into the sink. He reaches for the faucet, but then thinks better of it. You’ll have to figure out how to wash the dishes later.
You both drink your coffee in silence on the couch. You never considered yourself uncomfortable with silence; you’ve lived alone, you’ve gone for weeks without uttering a word before. But it’s so difficult to be sitting next to someone– someone you feel you could really get to like– and not be able to say a word. To make a sound, laugh or cry or snort or grunt. 
You’ll never be able to know what Eric’s laugh sounds like, or listen to his favorite song with him, or watch some stupid rerun of Friends with him while ignoring your responsibilities. He’s right there next to you, he’s risked his life to save you once already, and yet he’s so far away. You’ll never get to know him in all the ways you want to. Will you ever really know him at all?
He’d created a diversion when one of the fucking things had you trapped in a corner, between a dumpster and a brick wall. He chucked a rock at a car and set off an alarm, and then ran with you down an alleyway, his arm wrapped tight around your waist. Eric looked so sad, following you like a lost puppy. He was fucking drenched, too, so you know he’d probably been through one hell of a morning. And then the rain started, and the creatures were confused and… well, you weren’t just gonna leave him, scared and alone.
You, too, were scared and alone.
Eric’s hand appears to brush away a tear that had begun to fall down your cheek, betraying your internal monologue. You look to him with puffy eyes, and he pulls his hand away, suddenly unsure of whether you’re okay with such an intimate gesture. 
Your coffee cup meets the table with a quiet tap. You’re slow to move, but you scoot towards him, his arm still outstretched towards you, his eyes wide. Eric has the prettiest eyes in the world, you think. You want to tell him so.
But you’re a little too choked up to form words, anyways. Your forehead meets Eric’s shoulder, and his arm comes around you before you can huff the first silent sob that brims up. He coos softly into your hair, so softly that you can barely hear it, but it conveys enough. It does enough. 
The world is fucked. Your life is fucked. You have tunnel vision and you can only see things getting worse from here on; the only good thing you know anymore is holding you and caressing your head so gently that it pushes your tears out for you. 
You’ll never get to see a movie in a theater, and smell the stale popcorn again. You’ll never drive down the highway with the wind in your hair. You’ll never ride a roller coaster or sing karaoke. You’ll never go to a club and have a drunken heart to heart with a stranger in a bathroom.
“Do you think it’s worth it?” You whisper, so faintly that it’s barely above a breath, your lips pressed to the shell of his ear. “To try to exist in a world where you have to pretend like you don’t exist?”
Eric pauses, holding you to him. You can see the wheels turning in his head, while he tries to figure out what to say. Then he turns his face to put his lips against your ear, the same way you’d done to him. 
“I think it’s worth it to try to survive.” His breath tickles your skin when he whispers, “So survive with me, yeah?”
You nod solemnly, your tears threatening to rise up again. “I can’t stand not talking to you.” It’s so hard to keep your voice from cracking, from rising above the merest hint of a whisper, directly to him and no one or nothing else. 
Eric takes it in stride. “You are talking to me.” He pulls back and bats his eyelashes, and you think, he oughta fucking know what that does to me. 
“Not like this,” you breathe to him, because that’s really what it is– it’s a breath. A sigh. A gust of air and nothing else, barely anything that registers on your vocal chords. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. His hand, tightening on the middle of your back, holding you there. “I want to talk– I want to get to know you.” 
“Well, this isn’t so bad, is it?” Eric turns his head. His forehead nudges yours at the temple, and you swear you see a flash of a smile on his face. “What do you want to know?” 
His forefinger traces up and down, up and down, a gentle pattern that keeps you grounded. You bite your lip, trying to keep from letting the sounds come out too loud. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s your favorite song?”
“Easy Living. Billie Holiday.” 
“You’re kidding.” You’re blushing, hot in the cheeks. You’re imagining it; slow dancing in the kitchen with him while oldies plays on the radio. You didn’t think such an innocent question would send you spiraling like this, but it hurts worse to know that it will probably never happen.
“Absolutely not.” 
“Somehow… I can’t picture you listening to jazz.” 
“Picture it all you want,” he whispers. Eric swallows, and continues, “My granddad used to have these records, and we used to play them on Christmas. But when– when he died, the records went missing. I couldn’t find the song until a couple years ago,” he explains, and his voice cracks just slightly into a murmur. 
You both freeze. You wait for the sound of creatures coming down the hallway, busting down the walls… nothing happens. You let out a breath, and you pull his face closer to yours. His eyes flick over your face, and you put your lips against his ear. 
“You have to be so quiet. Can you do that for me?” Eric nods in your hands. “I wish we could do anything but this. I wish that we could have met in better circumstances. I wish… I wish I had known you before all of this. I think we would have had a lot of fun. But if this is the only way I can get to know you, and hear your voice now, I’ll take it.” You’re nodding as well now, like you’re trying to convince yourself of it. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how long we have. Together, I mean. And I don’t want to waste it passing notes. Okay?” 
“Okay.” He sounds clipped. His hand fidgets on your back, and you pull away to find him misty-eyed, his brows turned up. He fishes for words that don’t come, and then he nods. “Okay.” 
Neither of you move. The atmosphere around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing in on all sides. Eric’s hand slides up your back and to your face, and you remember that you’re still holding his. You’re near sitting in his lap with how close you’ve become, and the realization of that feels like a punch to the gut.
You think you should pull away. You don’t. 
Eric’s thumb traces a gentle arc across your bottom lip. It’s so featherlight it’s barely there– his eyes are honed in on your mouth, clearly lost in thought. You’d let him stay there as long as he wants, but you want every minute you can get. “Eric–”
He closes the gap and kisses you. The way you’d said his name– or not said it, rather, you sort of mouthed it against his thumb– had done the job you wanted it to. It feels like this was the obvious conclusion to the system you’d worked out, the close proximity and your shared fears. He’s scared, he said as much last night. You’re scared, you said so just now. 
Nowhere to go, nothing else to do except be right here, living. Alive, together. Kissing Eric, and him pulling you close by the waist, so that you do swing your leg and seat yourself in his lap. And as much as you love talking, and it breaks your heart that you can’t jabber at him, there are some things you just can’t put into words. Like the way that his hand on the back of your neck lights you up inside, or that you can’t think of anything other than all the areas where his skin is touching yours, and how you suddenly wish there was way more of them.
It’s stupid how much you like him already, really. You can feel your nonexistent friends clucking their tongues and shaking their heads, saying, “One day? That’s all it takes? You find some guy at the end of the world and you fall in love in 24 hours?” And they’d be right– maybe it’s not love. Not yet, anyways. But you could see it easily becoming that. And that fact scares you even more.
Your hands find Eric’s chest and the frantic beating of his heart tells you nearly the same thing. You break the kiss, trying to quietly catch your breath without gasping like you’re half-drowning. It’s harder than you expected. 
“Been wanting to do that all morning,” Eric whispers. And just like that you’re falling again, faster this time, like he’s just melted your wings right off and sent you plummeting.
You struggle to keep from gasping aloud when he kisses your jaw, just beneath your ear. It’s the lightest touch but you swear it burns, sears your skin. 
Your hands find the back of the couch, twitchy fingers digging in to keep you steady. Your mouth finds his again, his tongue tasting of coffee, and Eric kisses you a bit harder now, a bit sloppier. 
Breaking away, you open your eyes to find his wide, starstruck, his mouth hanging open like he’s been shocked beyond belief. You didn’t honestly intend for this to happen– you wanted to talk. But somehow this seems better, more appropriate. 
How do you get your feelings across when talking isn’t really an option? When innocent attraction becomes… whatever this is? 
You press a single finger to his plush lips, signaling exactly what you mean without a word. Quiet. 
Eric purses his lips, kisses your finger without breaking eye contact. His pupils are blown out so far that the barest hint of golden brown surrounds them, glinting in the sunlight from the window. 
You lean forward, until your mouth touches his ear. “Your eyes are so fucking pretty, Eric,” you whisper to him, and your teeth latch onto his earlobe to tug gently. You can’t help it– you grind your hips down into his lap, without even thinking of doing it. “You’re so pretty.”
Eric whimpers. It’s a soft sound, hollow in the back of his throat, but it’s still too loud for the world that you’re in. You clamp your hand down over his mouth, and his breath comes out sharp and hot over your knuckles as he tries to regain composure.
“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him, whispering gently in his ear. Against you, he shakes his head no. “Want me to keep going?” Eric nods his head yes. 
He’s shaking under you, his fingertips digging into your lower back like he can’t hold onto you hard enough. At the thought, your pulse pounds, blood positively humming through your veins. 
You nuzzle his cheek, and give him the sweetest kiss you can while your hand is still clamped over his mouth insistently. “You have to be. Fucking. Silent. Do you understand?” He nods. “We can’t make a sound. Okay?” 
Eric nods again, and keeps nodding until you let him go. If the rain was still pouring like earlier, you could tell him how much you want him, too. How you don’t want to be mean, you just don’t want to get hurt. This is a bad idea, all things considered. But Eric slides his hand down and cups your ass to lift you up a bit, and the words bad and idea suddenly fucking vanish from your vocabulary.
You stand long enough to kick off your sweats, your day old panties going down with them. You hadn’t dressed to be sexy yesterday, you dressed to get groceries. You don’t necessarily want Eric to see your faded cotton underwear with the stretched out elastic and multiple frayed holes. You don’t think it would add to your sex appeal right now. 
He doesn’t notice the lack of a strip tease– he’s already taking you by the hips, not even waiting for you to shuck your t-shirt. He pulls until you’re stood in front of him, and then hooks your leg over his shoulder. 
So. Eric doesn’t need to be asked to go down on you, he just does. The gentleman. His hands are firm on your ass as he nuzzles into the patch of hair between your legs, and the precarious balancing act makes you snatch onto the back of the couch again. 
His tongue glides through the folds of your pussy slowly, methodically. You aren’t sure if he wants to take his time, or if he’s going slow so that he doesn’t make too much noise when doing it, but he latches onto your clit and sucks agonizingly softly, like he knows he should do it harder but won’t risk making you moan. 
It’s so gentle, and it builds. Pretty soon, you’re having a tough time keeping your whimpers in, even when he’s basically just teasing you, flicking his tongue over your clit with even the barest pressure. Your head has fallen back on your shoulders, your hand now clasped over your own mouth to stifle your sighs. 
Then, Eric’s hand glides up to splay across your lower back, and he sucks long and hard at your clit, and your hand squeezes murderously at the back of the couch while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue. 
Knees buckling, you collapse into Eric’s lap. He has a doe-eyed look on his face that’s way too innocent after what he just did to you. With panting breath and shaking hands, you cup his rosy cheeks in your palms, shaking your head in disbelief. 
Eric’s brows tilt in worry, like he did something wrong. He opens his mouth, but you put your fingers against his lips to silence him, and lean forward to breathe, “You’re too sweet for me, Eric.” 
He traces his fingers lightly up your spine, and turns his head. “Maybe one day I won’t have to be sweet. Maybe then I can really fuck you.” 
The sound of his whispering voice in your ear makes you shiver, your lust reaching a boiling point. The idea of him really fucking you– that this isn’t even him as normal, that he’s having to hold so much back– makes you burn hot all at once. That this isn’t something he’s planning on doing once. That there’s a ‘one day’ that he sees in the future with you in it. 
With a nod, your breath catches in your throat. You find your way to his mouth again, kissing him desperately. You can taste yourself lingering on his lips, and your hips rock forward against his again. 
Eric inhales sharply, stifling his own moan. You guess you have to take it just as slowly as he did, ease him into it. You work your hand beneath his unbuttoned fly and palm him, keeping your touch gentle against his hot skin. He shakes, his hands laid out against your spine, his eyes sparkling when he looks up at you. 
You push your forehead against his as you sink onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his size. His breath stutters as he tries to keep quiet, small puffs of air spilling out and meeting your electrified skin. You curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, rocking your hips just barely, settling into his lap. 
This is more intimate than you can ever remember being with anyone, but right now it just feels right. Maybe it could be cathartic to fuck like a couple of animals in the face of doom, but Eric pulls your body flush against his, one strong forearm around your waist, and his nose nudges yours, and you think this is better. This is what you both need. Closeness. Sweetness. 
There isn’t a lot of movement– you can’t risk it. You and Eric seem to be in agreement on that, because as soon as you start trying to move in earnest, he just pulls you back to him, his arm around your waist and his hand petting the back of your head. 
Eric rocks his hips up into yours slowly, deeply, and it’s the depth of it and the slow sensuality that keeps you floating. Your clit catches on the patch of hair at the base of his cock each time you roll your hips with him, and you have to kiss him to keep from keening aloud. He doesn’t seem to mind it. 
You know he’s close when he tucks his face against your neck, his arm tightening around you. “Feels so fucking good,” comes his whine in your ear, and you gently shush him, your hand resting on the back of his head to keep him muffled against your shoulder. You want so badly to look at his face when he cums, but there’s that pesky issue of staying alive, and that hinges on whether or not he can keep quiet when he does. 
To his credit, he bites your shoulder and only whimpers a little bit. It’s just a squeak, but really, he could have been much louder about it, and then you would have both been in trouble. Imagine having to run for your life with your pants down. 
Ever the gentleman, he keeps you there even after he’s spent and sensitive, his hand clamped down on your thigh to prevent you from moving. His thumb finds your clit, and he lifts his head to watch you, his hooded eyes trained on your face as he brings you to the edge and over it again. He watches the way your brows tilt up, the way you struggle to keep your own eyes open, and the silent moan that threatens to break past your parted lips.
Eric claps his hand down over your mouth before it can. Your eyes fly open, your cunt clenches down around him, and he bares his teeth as you cum hard. It’s cyclical, comes in waves as he continues to stroke you through it, as he keeps his hand clamped down on your mouth to keep you quiet. 
To keep you quiet. 
Feverish and exhausted, you come down with your chest against his, Eric’s head flopped back onto the backrest of the couch. Your knees fucking hurt and you have yet to get off of him, and you sort of dread the moment when you have to. But this means your mouth is positioned right next to Eric’s ear, and you’re nothing if not a talker.
“Eric?” you whisper, and he turns his head just enough to let you know he heard you. “I’m glad that I met you when I did. Even if it’s terrible timing, I’m glad we met.”
A sweet, tired smile flits across Eric’s beautiful face. He nudges his nose against your temple. “I’m glad, too.” 
You shift off of him, and he squeezes your thigh just at the same time as he scrunches his face. He’s such a trooper about it, you kiss his cheek as you go, leaning over to grab a pair of earphones from the coffee table. 
You hand one ear bud to him, watching as confusion crosses his face. He watches you type on your phone as he tucks the bud into his ear, and you the other. 
On low volume, you listen to the soft piano and saxophone intro to an old jazz standard. Eric grins, his hand finding your cheek before he pulls you in for a kiss. 
And then, Billie Holiday’s voice plays for only you two to hear. 
Living for you is easy living, It’s easy to live when you’re in love And I’m so in love, There’s nothing in life but you.
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disneyprincemuke · 9 months
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the orange peel theory * fem!driver
how many men in her life would stop to peel an orange for her if she asks randomly?
pairings: f1 grid x fem!driver
warnings: -
notes: juSt a random idea i got when i dreadfully peeled oranges for myself ugh i hate being single sometimes
guys this is the last vr update today i swear i’ve got too much times on my hands actually
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
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-> max verstappen, #1
would be in the middle of an interview after quali when she comes up to him with a mandarin orange in hand
max stops mid sentence to look down at her in confusion but will take the orange into his hands as she asks him to peel it for her politely
he would cover the mic and whisper “can this wait? i’m in the middle of something” and she shows him her hands, perfectly manicured white nails with a frown and says “i’ll stain my nails”
and he just does it, peeling the orange as he carries on with the interview after she walks away without him knowing
when he finishes, he turns to give it to her but she’s no longer there and ends up eating the orange during his interview lol
-> logan sargeant, #2
he’d be sitting in his garage minding his own business when she comes and sits next to him with a bag of mandarin oranges in hand
he doesn’t even need to be told
he immediately reaches out and starts peeling the oranges for her, even tearing away the white strands because he knows she hates those
totally nothing to do with the fact that he’s had a crush on her forever
everything to do with the fact that they grew up together and he’s too lazy to fight
-> daniel ricciardo, #3
he’s literally just walked into the paddocks for race day
he feels all cool with all the cameras
suddenly she runs over to him with an orange in her hands and a hopeful smile
“peel this for me please?”
he does it without question
he walks the paddocks with her while peeling her orange and even sparks up conversation with her
-> lando norris, #4
literally walks away when he sees her approaching him with an orange
she’s been doing it all weekend and he refuses to be a victim
also because he’s not that fond of peeling oranges
or oranges, for that matter
she tries chasing after him but when she finally catches up, he simply ignores the request to peel the orange for her
-> pierre gasly, #10
he’ll be literally walking over to the grid for the driver’s parade
looking pretty cool in his cool fits
an orange is presented to him without question
he grins at her and thanks her for the orange
walks away and eats the orange himself
-> sergio perez, #11
would also be in the middle of an interview when she comes up with an orange
would peel it because he’s a mega dad and he’s really taken a liking to her
excuses himself from the interview to do it for her real quick
would take one piece of the orange for himself
claims it’s the taxes for making him do it instead of doing it herself
-> fernando alonso, #14
takes the orange without her saying anything
he’s always seen with seb on race weekends and is very used to her antics
literally gives her the orange peel and one piece of orange
eats the orange without her saying anything
she’s in damn near tears because she really expected fernando to peel it for her without question
-> charles lerclerc, #16
is sad that she didn’t bring him an orange too
still peels it for her though
even though he was in the middle of some paddock game with carlos
asks for a piece and because she loves him and her crush is still very much present, she simply gives him the whole orange
-> lance stroll, #18
he’d have been coming out of his racing home minding his own business
they don’t interact often because she scares him
is almost scared to say no to the orange peeling and actually says no
mutters “i always knew you hated me” as she walks away
which then makes him chase her to peel the orange for her and apologise profusely
because lance and her literally never talk and it took up all her courage to approach him with this orange, she gives him half of the orange
-> kevin magnussen, #20
asks her if she's got an extra orange for his baby girl
she literally came prepared and gives one to cute baby laura
so now kevin has to peel two oranges for two babies
outrageous, if u ask him
-> nyck de vries, #21
has unfortunately departed by the time she decided to be a menace about the orange peel theory
she thinks about him often though
they're texting buddies actually
-> yuki tsunoda, #22
literally came prepared
he's got a packet of candy he bought when he flew back to japan for a visit
she gives him the whole orange
she literally peels the orange for him in exchange for the candy
-> alex albon, #23
was literally walking to the grid for the opening ceremony of the race weekend
says no immediately
but he does change his mind and asks if he can have half if he peels it for her
peels it and takes more than half of the share
-> zhou guanyu, #24
is delighted to even see her because they don't come across one another often
is kinda touched that she asked him to peel an orange but then is disappointed to find out that he's not the first victim and that this is all a tiktok trend for her
peels it anyway
asks her to bring an extra orange if there's a next time as payment
-> niko hulkenberg, #27
she literally cannot find him
doesn't get to participate in the trend
she only saw him once that weekend and it was at the opening ceremony and she only had 1 orange for alex to peel
and on the grid in his race car
-> esteban ocon, #31
absolutely ADORES her
peels it without question
peeks around her shoulder to ask if she's brought another one for him
she says yes and that he's the only one who gets one for himself because she loves him back
-> lewis hamilton, #44
this psycho literally approaches lewis when he's on an interview panel
but that's because he asked her to do it at that time so he has a excuse to escape the panel
he's just so tired of the panel interviews
giggling with her like demons as he peels the orange
-> carlos sainz, #55
peels it for her without question
the only one to ask her why she's got so many oranges to eat and hand out
also the only one to ask her if oranges have been the only thing she's eaten all weekend
inhumanly impossible to eat this many oranges in one weekend perhaps
-> george russell, #63
is literally tearing up because she came to him to ask to peel the orange
he heard from alex what she's been doing
he's been waiting all weekend for her and was sad that it seemed like she had no intentions on letting him participate in her tiktok
she feels so bad for him that she joins him in peeling an orange as well
-> valtteri bottas, #77
is confused because he's just minding his own business using his phone during the driver's briefing
peels the orange for her anyway
asks if oranges are her favourite fruit
suggests eating something less acidic to avoid a tummyache
-> oscar piastri, #81
if anyone's tired of her being a menace with all these oranges, it's going to be him
but because he knows she'll pick a fight if he says no
he will peel the orange reluctantly
takes a picture with the orange because it's the same shade as the mclaren shirt he is wearing
— bonus
-> liam lawson, #30
asks her to fuck off
only ask him to peel an orange when she's lost all the ability to peel one for herself
asks her if he can have one from her orange stash
she says no in tears because he cussed at her
shrugs and walks away
-> sebastian vettel, #5
this clinically insane woman has got this 4 time world champion peeling oranges on the pit wall during qualifying
has him throw her a peeled orange in between laps during qualifying
eats it in the car for a racing 'buff' before she drives out for a lap
she's got too many oranges so he helps her eat some of them
eating oranges = beating mclaren = beating oscar because they're all the same colour and have a correlation obviously
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eskumii · 7 months
Text
❝ TROPHY WIFE ❞ — yandere!uzui tengen/wives + you're his first wife
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SYNOPSIS: suppose you're uzui tengen's very first wife, the one that slipped through the cracks of your unwanted arranged marriage with him. along with your disappearance went his heart, and now you must bear the consequences of a man who loves his wife far beyond her understanding—so much so that he would kill for her, die for her, and do anything to make her stay. — navi.
WORD COUNT: 5.7k
NOTES: mdni! (cw: non-con) this is an arranged/forced marriage au. it's meant to be one-sided. it took me quite literally forever to finish this lol ,,
PAIRING: yandere!uzui tengen x wife!reader
CHARACTERS: uzui tengen (19-23), reader (18-22), suma (19), makio (20), hinatsuru (21)
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I. TO BE WED
imagine being uzui tengen's very first wife.
your hand in marriage was promised to him by your parents, who owned a tax-collecting business that was often the target of hostility from the impoverished people of your hometown. tengen routinely passed through your village on demon slayer business, so your parents could always rest assured knowing he would take care of the violent stragglers that sometimes loitered outside.
ironically being poor themselves, they had little to offer the hashira as payment for his noble duties; well, that "little" didn't exclude you of course, their only daughter who's failed to find a husband far past the age of when other girls were normally wed. you're still young, fertile, and moderately attractive, but your strong disinterest in potential suitors often drove any chances of a wealthy marriage away.
however, after being introduced to tengen, the man you'll be forced to marry out of obligation, you begin to regret being so stubborn after all.
admittedly, tengen found you to be pretty plain at first. you're poor so you can't exactly dress flashy, and you come from a no-name family with little legacy. your parents swore up and down on your domestic efficiency—hardworking, great cook, a tame disposition—and, well, at least you're kind of cute, too. tengen is intrigued by your potential the most.
your parents force you to do whatever you can to get close to him. the truth is, though, you don't really have to do anything with the way he seeks you out himself. he often shows up at your door asking for you, and your parents have no qualms about dragging you out of your room to make you go out with him.
he takes you to the nicer parts of town and pays for dinner or buys you flowers and little trinkets from the shop vendors that line the streets. it doesn't help that the elderly people running the stands egg you on, saying things like "what a lovely young couple" or "your children would be so beautiful!" tengen simply smiles with ease, accepting their praise as if it's second nature. you get rather embarrassed by his shameless indulgence.
there's small talk but you find it incredibly stifling. tengen does a majority of the dialoguing but most of the time your dates get interrupted by his kasugai crow, who squawks at him whenever a demon shows up nearby. he always looks annoyed and promises to make it up to you, leaning down to pat your head like you're his pet dog or something. you hate it and him too, probably.
"i'll be back before you know it, darling," his smile is charming but not to you. "you'll stay right here for me, won't you?"
regardless of your somewhat obvious hesitance to accept his advances, tengen gets attached to you like it was meant to be. the idea of having a pretty little housewife for him to come home to after his draining missions becomes increasingly attractive, and the more time he spends with you, the more he sees the appeal of your being. it must be a miracle that no man has taken you as his wife yet; surely you were saving yourself for a man like him.
unfortunately, though, you don't want to marry tengen.
an arranged marriage? it's simply not the kind of life you envision for yourself. you aren't willing to bet the rest of your days on a man whom you have a slim chance of falling in love with, all for the sake of financial security. but what else can you do? your parents already made it very clear they would disown you if you refuse, and tengen is pressuring you to your death with his sweet words and annoyingly thoughtful presents. you're stuck.
eventually, the incessant nagging from your parents and weeks of endless courting from tengen sway you so sooner. you fold like a cheap hand fan and succumb to your fate, to a future you knew from the very beginning that you would come to despise.
he's the only suitor you have at this point. it's not like you have a choice. and the one choice you do have just so happens to be him, a man who is the nearest thing to a perfect match as you're ever gonna get. you should be happy. thankful. he'll give you the world if you just give him a chance.
at least, that's what he told you.
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II. THE SOUND HASHIRA
your parents are so happy to send you off.
they're completely honored that their letdown of an only daughter is finally getting married—to a well-known and wealthy shinobi at that. it's the only time they've shown any pride in you, yet it really only leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
after your brief introduction to the head of tengen's clan, everything moves so quickly. just a couple weeks later, you're already signing a marriage contract in which you and tengen become official newlyweds. and before you know it, you're packing what little belongings you have to your name and moving in with him, begrudgingly and regretfully so.
the day you arrive, he shows you around his overwhelmingly gigantic residence; the courtyard full of cherry blossoms and koi ponds, the huge kitchen, and the bedroom where he'll eventually fully claim you. there's lots of other rooms too, but they're either empty or reserved for his weapons and training gear. he tries to hide it but he's obviously so over the moon that you're his wife now. he doesn't even notice your misery through his elated delusion of love.
in hindsight, you didn't realize how difficult it can be to share a space with someone you hardly know. you find everything awkward but tengen doesn't, like always. to him, you're so obedient and polite— such a good girl. you take whatever he gives you; kisses, hugs, subtle gropes here and there, and all of his sweet compliments and gifts. you don't argue with him or raise your voice, you fret over his injuries and make his favorite foods. you're observant, collected, and mature.
he didn't have a type before he met you—you're all he can ask for in a woman, really.
tengen is unexpectedly romantic. he constantly boasts about his strength and fighting skills in order to impress you, and he never stops mouthing off about how he'll prioritize you over himself. he puts consistent effort in getting to know you: what you like, don't like, your favorite color, and any other inkling of your personality that he can manage to wrestle out of you. he seems to have gotten the impression that you're shy or something.
flowers are a constant and you're spoiled with fancy, expensive kimonos and jewelry. had you married tengen under literally any other circumstance, you'd find his advances on you endearing but, unfortunately, he just comes off as clingy and unbearable. any woman would die to be in your place yet you can't even find it in you to want to be in your own place.
what do you think of him, though? well, he's handsome, you'll give him that. you don't deny the appeal of his good looks and flashy, fitted clothing. he's strong, established, and knows what he wants. despite your obvious distaste towards his gifts and grandiose personality, it's not to say you're ungrateful that the man you're stuck with is exceedingly well-off and capable of protecting you. you can't say he's a bad guy.
however, he's a moron.
he fell for you fast. a couple months have already passed since coming to live in his residence. tengen requests to have picnics whenever you go with him to visit his siblings' graves on his off days. of course you have no reason to refuse; as much as you dislike him, you're not heartless. they're important days, so you swallow your pride and pack a bento spread you know he'll like.
tengen will confide in you about the memories of his late siblings, his parents, and his life before becoming a hashira. it's a depressing and heavy weight to shoulder, but you still play your role of the loving, supportive wife with your lingering touches and comforting words. you use these outings as opportunities to gain his trust by being vulnerable.
except, this time, the effect you seem to have on tengen is magnified to the point of no return.
he pulls you into his lap and you're suddenly flush against his rock hard chest, trapped in a suffocating hug. you don't know what prompted his sudden affection; perhaps it was the warm atmosphere you crafted or the intimacy of the moment, but the way tengen holds you so close is telling. he's about to say something you've been dreading since the day you met him.
"i love you." tengen confesses, nuzzling his face into your neck and sighing as if he'd just released the weight of the world off of his shoulders.
you knew it. it's the first time he's ever said it to you and you'll never forget the wave of nausea that hit you as you glanced up to see him staring back at you expectantly. your heart is pumping out of your chest and your face is flustered—not because you're flattered but because you're ashamed. you feel his hands squeeze your shoulders, almost like a warning, and his grip begins to feel claustrophobic after your prolonged silence.
you have no choice but to reciprocate.
"...I love you too." your voice is quiet, hesitant, and tengen gently teases you about being shy when you refuse to look at him anymore. he's not right but it's true that lying invokes shame.
he almost seems overwhelmed by your response, as if he hadn't just nonverbally threatened it out of you. you don't dare to sneak even a glance at him. he tightens his embrace around you and goes back to burying his face abashedly into your neck, mumbling sweet words against your skin. his body wraps around you like a vice, trapping you in the prison that is his dreadful existence.
you decide, in that very moment, that there was nothing in the world you wanted to do more than run away.
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III. A DIRE MISTAKE
one fateful day, you catch wind of the news that tengen is being assigned on a mission quite far away, somewhere down in the southwest. 
you're so lucked out that you thought it was a trap at first—a ploy to catch you in your undying desire to leave your husband for good. but when the day of departure arrives and tengen peppers your face with last minute kisses, you know for sure that there's no chance he's caught on to your resentment towards him, nor the plan of escape you've been devising all along.
your eyes are teary when tengen releases you from the last of his spine-crushing hugs and he cooes at your cute crying face. honestly, you're tearing up out of joy because your one and only chance to escape has literally fallen into your lap in a pleated handbasket, but you'll let him believe otherwise. you at least owe him the courtesy. 
you already know you don't stand a chance against tengen, at least physically. he can overpower you like nothing and he's so tall that he towers over you, constantly caging you between those muscled arms of his. there's almost nothing you could do against a man like him—well, unless you count poisoning, but you were above murder when it came to getting what you wanted. 
as soon as tengen passes through the looming gates of the residence and disappears down the winding road, you scramble to gather a few belongings before making your way out through the back. there's a twinge of fear that grips your gut but you press on, determined to put as much space between you and that wretched place you were expected to call home. 
the moment you escaped, you flipped your identity. chopped your hair off, powdered your face in white make-up, and wore headscarves wherever you went. you fled as far as your feet would take you, only stopping to rest in a small village when your aching body could take you no further. you hardly spoke to anyone and left nothing behind that could possibly be traced back to you or be used to pursue you. 
it's obvious you can't go back to your parents; they hated you when you lived with them, and they'd hate you more if you returned. they'd sell you out to tengen in two seconds flat, then ruthlessly shame you for running away from a marriage you wanted no part in. the only option left for you is to create a new life for yourself somewhere far, far away. 
and that's exactly what you do. you find a little town on the outskirts of the red light district, where business is booming and it's easy to disguise yourself beneath the constant foot traffic. you go undercover as a seamstress, working in a homely tailor shop under the supervision of the owners, who are a kind older couple that are quick to regard of you as one of their own. 
time marches on and the jarring memories of tengen do as well. you makes friends with the regulars that come by the store often. you've learned the valuable trade of mending clothing and sewing traditional patterns. you've even developed a crush on one of the men that come by often to repair his work uniform.
your life is finally the way you've always wanted it to be. 
meanwhile, tengen copes—barely. days pass. weeks. months. you're still yet to be found, even with the help of all the hashira and the shinobi of his clan. it's as if you disappeared off the face of the planet. he's completely devastated. did you run away because he was gone for so long? were you feeling neglected? did you just want his attention? surely you wouldn't just up and leave when he'd been so loving; he truly couldn't think of anything that would prompt such an extreme reaction. 
as expected, he doesn't come up with a justification for your disappearance. how could he? you could be dead by now with the amount of demon uprisings that have been happening lately. or you could even be halfway across the world right now, laughing at how easily you had fooled him. eventually, his sadness melts into anger. you may be gone now, but it won't be for long. 
wherever you are, he'll find you. 
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IV. 'TIL DEATH DO HIM PART
in the following years, tengen's next three wives are chosen specifically by the head of his clan.
and, in the head of the clan's words: "the sound hashira's decision-making must be incredibly poor if he chose a wife who would dare flee from him." the statement only fans the flames of his growing wrath for you. 
however, his new wives—suma, makio, and hinatsuru—are all beautiful and talented kunoichi who admire him to their very cores. as ungrateful as it sounds, there isn't a day where tengen wishes one of them were you. they've worked so hard to try and fill the gaping hole in his existence that was left by you, but it hasn't really been working. he needs you.
they're kind, caring, nurturing and most of all, strong. they've trained all their lives to be kunoichi. he knows he shouldn't complain but they just don't cook like you, look like you... aren't you. of course he loves them, but he could never forget the way his heart shattered the day he returned home to find you nowhere in sight. your disappearance left him in utter shambles. did you ever think about that when you left? you're so unbelievably selfish—is that the kind of woman you turned out to be? 
his wives constantly question his lovesick behavior. tengen never hides anything from them; in fact, he'll sometimes go on long, borderline maniacal rambles about "the wife who got away." to suma, makio, and hinatsuru, you're an enigma that's broken the heart of their husband, and they're not sure what it was about you that makes him act this way. jealousy sparks—if there's a way to get you back to make tengen happy, they would do it, but maybe you're better off gone after all. 
and it's not like tengen didn't search for you. oh no, he looked everywhere within reason. his duties as a hashira kept him chained to his missions near the demon slayers' headquarters, but that never stopped him from interrogating people when he got the chance. any woman that looked even remotely similar to you was sure to be stopped in the middle of the street for further investigation. 
master kagaya is exceedingly understanding of the situation, and he bears obvious concern for his beloved sound hashira. while he's sympathetic of the loss of his wife—it's no matter to be taken lightly, of course—tengen must first be loyal to his occupation as a hashira, and that means going on missions in spite of his mourning. 
and his newest missions leads him to the red light district. 
so tengen goes. he knows his place when it comes to master kagaya, so he has no reason or authority to deny orders. regardless, it's a harrowing and tedious task. drunk concubines practically throw themselves into tengen's arms as he strolls past the many underground sex clubs that line the filthy streets. he has zero interest in any of the debauchery that goes on here, and he especially feels nothing when shoving them away from him with excessive force. 
he scours the area for anyplace that looks decent enough to step foot in, as well as a place where he won't get immediately harassed by ran through harlots. turning down a quieter side street where some storefronts have been shuttered, he happens upon a small seamstress shop sandwiched between two restaurants that look as if they've closed early for the evening. 
shrugging, tengen wearily thinks it's as good of a place as any to begin his intel gathering on the upper moons' whereabouts. he saunters towards the front entrance and a young woman dressed in traditional geisha wear passes him on the sparsely populated road, her wooden sandals clacking against the ground. he can't help but think her hair looked similar to yours and his heart twists painfully in his chest. 
tengen seems to be constantly haunted by the thought of you, forming an obsession in his mind that won't go away until he has you back. until he knows your safe, with him, just like you were meant to be. until he sees you. 
no, literally, tengen sees you, right in front of him. 
through the window of the upscale seamstress shop, he sees you conversing with a man at the front counter, laughing heartily at a joke he must have made. tengen quickly crouches beneath the display window to spy on you, his heart pounding out of his chest at the events that are currently unfolding. he must be mistaken. 
he peeks above the lip of the window to catch a glance and, sure enough, it is you. you're alive and well, almost glowing beneath the low, intimate lighting inside the shop. 
he finally found you! he can't believe it. the grin that's stretching across his face is so broad. he'd recognize your face anywhere, even if it's caked in geisha makeup and your hair elaborately styled. you’re beautiful and he’s captivated by your beauty just as he was the day that he met you. 
he's so unbelievably ecstatic with the way his hands are clamming up, his feet shuffling in the dirt and... 
what?
creeping over the ledge of the display window once again, tengen's eyes immediately grow dark. there's a man there. talking to you. his wife. 
in the midst of your conversation, your eyes absently float over to the window. it's there that your gaze clashes with his, and a blood-curdling look of terror overtakes your features. is that… tengen? 
there's a shift in the air. what happens next, tengen doesn't recall, but when he comes to there's blood on his hands and your hair is bundled up in his fist as he drags you past the threshold the of the shop’s entrance. he looks over his shoulder and on the floor, spread eagle, lies the man without his head. the scene is gruesome.
he killed him. 
tengen looks down at you with a solemn gaze. for some reason, he doesn't even care. the emotions running through him are almost too much to bear. do you know how much your disappearance has destroyed him? do you know how much he's suffered because of you? do you even care? 
he doesn't understand why you're crying. it seems like you were happy enough to whore around with other men in his absence. the thought drives him to the brink of insanity. how much longer do you plan on humiliating him? 
there's too much to be said. tengen's mouth is agape and he's so upset at you that he can't find the right words to express himself. instead, he collapses to the floor beside you and embraces you in his longing arms. he smells your hair and feels how your body shrinks against his—it's all exactly how it used to be. it's exactly as he remembered, as he dreamed of. 
and now, as tengen scoops you up into his arms to take you back home, another dream of his will be fulfilled tonight. he knows exactly what kind of punishment is befit for you. 
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V. A JUST PUNISHMENT — (NSFW: NON-CON)
"tengen-sama! you're ba-" 
a woman with colored bangs and a ponytail attempts to greet tengen as he enters, but she's cut off by not only the expression on his face but also the strange, disheveled woman he's hauling behind him. 
he drags you across the cold, laminated wood floors into the bedroom by your hair and peels the delicate, silken layers of your yukata back, exposing soft flesh and ample curves. tengen is so starved of your touch—of your voice, your scent, you. he'll make you pay for what you put him through. he'll make you stay this time. 
you can't even fight back. you're so afraid of what's going to happen that your body refuses to move, to speak. and even if you could, there was no way you would win against a hashira, of all people. 
tengen starts by pushing you to your knees. when his hands begin the hasty work of undoing the belt of his kimono, you already know where this is going and it makes your stomach churn in volatile sickness. he eagerly slides his under pants down and from the top of its elastic band springs his semi-hard cock, which nearly hits you in the face. you gasp at the sheer size of it; that is not gonna fit inside of you.
"don't look at me like that, [name]. clearly i was too lenient with you back then. i should've disciplined you..." he trails off as he stares into your pleading eyes. he smiles but, in it, is no mercy.
"c'mon, baby. you'll be a good girl and open your mouth for me, won't you?" 
you refuse. no, you wouldn't even dream of it. you've never done anything sexual with a man before and you certainly aren't going to wi—
tengen suddenly reaches down and grabs ahold of your now tangled hair with one of his large hands. it takes barely any pressure before your mouth is pried open by the force of his fingers alone, and his now engorged cock head is being stuffed into your warm, unyielding mouth. 
you can only let out a choked cry at the vile intrusion. 
"that's it, baby, good girl.." he praises, stroking your head with his thumb as he slowly inches his pulsing cock down your throat. 
your screams are completely muffled. tengen begins to pick up the pace, letting your drool be the lubricant that allows his giant dick to slide in and out of your tight throat. it hurts so bad that you try to bite down and free yourself from this act of vulgarity, but tengen doesn't allow it. he instead tugs your head back by the grip he has on your hair, forces his cock all the way in, and holds you there until you decide to behave yourself. 
you can hardly breath. lewd, wet noises fill the room as tengen gags you almost to the point of unconsciousness. the vibrations from your screaming must have been making him feel good, though, because it takes just a few minutes before he's shuddering in orgasm as he bottoms out and cums, which you have no choice but to swallow. 
he pulls out of your mouth and you're mortified, but even more so when you see how he's still hard. his cock is covered in a thick layer of your saliva and his cum drips onto your exposed chest in globs that make you cringe in disgust. you think you're going to throw up. 
and you almost do, if it weren't for tengen picking you up from under your arms and tossing you onto the plush bedding. your legs are forced open and tengen slides his twitching cock against your pussy, slowly and teasingly. you begin to fight against him but he easily pins you down long enough to push his fat cock head into your tight pussy. 
tengen pounds you into the plush cushion of the futon all night long. you've given up struggling and crying, only mewling in pain as the brutish man stretches your virgin pussy wide. he ruthlessly kneads your breasts with his calloused palms and overstimulates your clit with his fingers until you cream and squirt repeatedly all over his dick. you can do nothing but lay there as he roughly moves your body into various positions and fills your womb with his seed—there's no way you won't be pregnant after this. 
all the pent up rage that tengen was forced to weather after your disappearance is released in that very room. he sounds like a crazy man with the way he lapses in and out of fits of rage where he's cursing at you with his hands around your throat, then slipping into pleasure induced "i love you's" as he dumps yet another load of cum deep inside of you. 
"h-how does it feel, my love?" he groans, reaching over to caress your flushed face. "mm, you sound so cute making those noises. lemme hear you scream, darling."
and oh, you sure do scream. for him to stop, to get off of you. that you've had enough. that you hate him. over and over again you scream, you cry, and you struggle, but it does you no good. he only seems to thrust faster the more you beg. is he getting off to your desperation? he must be by the way his cock pulses at any form of physical resistance from you. 
you thought it would never end. he's almost insatiable. your tears have long dried up—for the most part, anyway—but the skin on your face feels raw from tengen "lovingly" wiping all your tears and snot away while simultaneously pounding a you-shaped hole into the futon. you feel disgusting. you don't even have the strength to make a sound when he spanks you for the hundredth time, moaning heatedly about how you've been such a bad, bad girl. 
when it seems like he's finally spent, he doesn't pull out. instead, he collapses on top of you with his cock still twitching inside your sloppy, ruined cunt while drawing you in for an unreciprocated kiss. he whispers praises in your ear and gently strokes your face, cooing at how much you're trembling against his much larger form. 
"i should've done this a long time ago. maybe you wouldn't have left if i dumped my kids into you sooner." 
eventually, his softened cock slips out of you and a gush of warmth runs down your legs; you can already feel a soreness settling in your pelvis. tengen sighs contentedly at the sopping squelch that sounds when you snap your legs shut in order to roll as far away from him as possible. he roughly wraps a muscled arm around your waist and pulls you back towards him as soon as he sees your attempt to create distance. 
"i missed you so much, darling," tengen mumbles against your skin breathily, offering a soft smile. "did you enjoy your welcome back?" 
he's making fun of you. you refuse to even look at him. it's to be expected, really, he can't imagine how bad it must feel to think you actually got away from him as you lay in his arms once again, right where you belong. you need to learn your place; no wife of his will disrespect him like you did ever again. if you have to be an example of that, then so be it—youput this on yourself, after all. 
leaving you with a final kiss, he gets up, wraps a towel around his waist, and goes to let his other wives into the room to help clean you up (they've been waiting patiently ever since you showed up, curious about the woman who supposedly "stole tengen's heart," as he put it). you're still naked and exposed with tengen's cum leaking down your thighs but you don't even have the mental capacity to care anymore. all three of the girls look shocked at the state you're in, but they don't comment and rush to get you in the bath. 
they're all very pretty, of course. when you emerge from your haze of disorientation, you're left reeling at the fact that tengen had amassed three whole wives in light of your absence. well, not that you have any right to be surprised considering your short lived emotional affair. you're still in mourning over what had happened to him. 
regardless of your fragile state, the three women swarm you with questions that prod at your past: who you are, where you're from, and how you met tengen. you don't even have half the mind to reply. you can only stare at your tear-stricken reflection in the soapy water, ready to burst into tears yet again at the horrible predicament you've found yourself in. 
what can you do now? sit around and get bred by tengen? rot away in this dreadful house for the rest of your life? the other wives seem to catch onto your unresponsiveness after a couple dozen of their questions go ignored, so they sit quietly and gently wash you clean. they look genuinely worried for you—not that their pity will undo the damage that's already been done. 
makio will scrub your back and grumble about how jealous she is while suma and hinatsuru fret over the small bruises that are now beginning to form around your hips from tengen's manhandling. suma washes your hair next, commenting on how beautiful it is, while the other two move onto rinsing the soap from your body. they wrap you up in a fluffy towel when it's over, and a shiver wracks your spine when their hands guide you to another room, down the hall, with a clean bed ready for you to rest in. 
you don't really know who they are but since they're dressed like kunoichi, it's obvious that they don't share the same mindset you do, or were forced to be wed to tengen like you were. you can't ask them to help you escape from this hell, not a chance. 
even as you lay in the criminally comfortable futon with new silken pajamas, a cup of cold water at your side, and a warm blanket, sleep doesn't find you. 
and with tengen around, you're certain it never will. 
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VI. A HAPPY EVER AFTER (EXTRA)
a few months later, your pregnancy symptoms are in full swing.
tengen is as protective as ever and the other wives have already grown attached to you despite your bitter and unforgiving attitude towards them. you learn quickly that they're all very... obsessive, constantly hovering over you and going to overbearing extremes to make sure you don't do anything that would physically strain yourself in any way.
hinatsuru and makio follow at your heels like guard dogs while suma takes charge of most of the cooking and cleaning. she keeps the peace most of the time and holds makio back when she's attempting to murder hinatsuru over something childish. you're never in the mood to talk to them, however, and they often try to bribe you with your favorite sweets (which is intel that they've gathered from tengen) in order to get you to participate in their activities.
unluckily for you, tengen had decided to completely retire from being a hashira following a particularily harrowing encounter with an upper moon demon (even after you tried to subtly guilt trip him into not doing so). he insisted that you and the baby were "more important." you know that it'd be difficult to escape with the other wives around but to add tengen on top of that makes it surely impossible. 
every morning, the dreadful man himself meets the four of you in the kitchen and will beam proudly at the sight of his adorable little harem. he goes down the line and gives affection to each of his wives individually, in the way they prefer, and saves you for last as you're his "greatest prize," or whatever he said. you're just completely exhausted and you resent them all from the deepest depths of your heart. the least you can do is make it obvious. 
tengen finds your rebellion adorable. everything about you is and even moreso now than when you left him all those years ago. he'll grab you by the jaw and force you into a quick one-sided kiss, pulling away with that fond smile of his. his fingers ghost over your swelling tummy but his very touch makes you feel so awfully sick. you'll roughly push him away and he's so out of his mind that he attributes your justified anger and moodiness to your "pregnancy hormones." regardless, he's happy. it's you who's going to bear his child. it's you who first said you loved him too. as long as you live, you're bound to him as his wife. nothing can come between a man and the woman he loves; uzui tengen certainly made sure of that, didn't he?
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slasherstories123 · 4 months
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Hii this is the first time I make a request. Can you make slashers(your choices hehe) react to S/O making a plushie that look just like them? Thank you :)
Slashers reaction to their S/O making a plushie of them
Paring: Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Vincent Sinclair,Lester Sinclair, and Brahms Heelshire x reader
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Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @mrs-heelshire @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @pink-apollo @charliedawn @emychan @slasherscrybaby @l0sercat
A/N: When you said dolls it made me think of crochet dolls, but if not then I’m sorry😭💗
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Jason Voorhees
Very curious. He's curious about the process of you making the plushie once tibeas given to him.
Jason loves the plushie, even carrying it around like it’s his own child and will even sleep with it besides his teddy bear that was given by his mother.
He’ll hug you to no end as his way of saying thank you
If you were to make another plushie he’d want to watch you make it so he could make one of you, it was terribly made but it was his first time… and it’s the thought that counts
He’ll be forever grateful because it’s the fact that you wanted to make the plushie and haven’t had any sort of gift in years ever since his mother was killed, it’ll possibly even make him emotional just the thought of him receiving any gifts after being called a monster or freak.
Michael Myers
He’s giving you so many head tilts of confusion
All he can think about is why? Why are you making it, he knows you love him, but that far to make a plushie?
He’ll keep it of course but you won’t see him around with it, he probably has it put up on your dresser.
Will he stare? Yea. He’ll stare at you through the whole process of making it. Once it’s done he’ll definitely see something missing. Going in the kitchen to get the largest knife and give it to you.
You’d have to stifle a laugh and make a large knife that will fit the doll to fit his liking, handing it up to up for his own approval.
He’d take the doll and hold it by its head. Placing it on his shoulder.
He’d walk around the house with it on his shoulder, surprisingly, it doesn’t fall off.
Vincent Sinclair
Loves it.
Vincent keeps anything you give him, even if it’s a a half head flower you saw outside he’ll keep it even if it’s shriveled up into nothing
At first he’s curious since he never knows you could make things like he could. Once you show him how you do it, just know he’ll also make you one as well so you both can have plushies of each other
He’s rather good at it for the first time but often cuts his fingers so you’d have to stop him just to patch them up or to make sure he isn’t bleeding
He’ll often watch you make them since it’s satisfying in his opinion to watch. Just have music play in the background while you work he could stare for hours and not get bored at all.
Lester Sinclair
Lester literally laughs at the sight of it
It’s more of a surprise laugh since he didn’t expect you to make a doll that’s exactly like him, he loves it and will give you the tightest hug known to mankind
Even press kissed all over your face happily, mustache sloppy but they’re still kisses 🤷🏾‍♀️
He’ll even call the doll “Lester Jr” and will have it in his truck… or will carry it everywhere but will also have it in his truck since it reminds him of you
He’ll hug it to no end, even in his sleep, or he’ll have you hold onto it while he curls up besides you to sleep
Brahms Heelshire
It would be hard for you to even make it since he’ll sometimes take the tools away just so he can get your attention.
Once he settled down… hopefully. He’ll watch while having the porcelain doll of himself in his lap. Holding onto it until you finished with the doll you were currently making yourself.
Just like with the porcelain doll, he expects you to be careful even though it isn’t as fragile as the one he has
It’s a doll, and it was made by you. He wants it to be taken care of of since it resembles him.
As his way of a thank you, he’ll give you one perfectly made as well, and it has more details of your features that you don’t even pay attention to.
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sincerestlove · 2 months
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Girl Crush - R.G.
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hello hello hello! i am so sorry for the long break - but i'm so happy to be back! i hope you all are doing well. i have quite a few requests sitting in my drafts, so once i get through those, i am happy to reopen my inbox for requests, if you guys want. anyway, these 3 requests were quite similar to each other, so it just made sense to combine them into one fic. hope you enjoy!
Request: Hi! Can i request a reader x Regina George where the reader is super oblivious to Regina flirting and thinks she's just being really friendly and it's obvious to everyone but the reader how in love Regina is with her.
Request: can you do a regina george x reader fic where R is literally the only person in the school who isn’t afraid of regina in the slightest and just treats her like a normal person (bonus points if the reader is just an oblivious ball of sunshine)
Request: hiii :) i was wondering if you could maybe write a regina x reader fanfic where the reader is friends with karen since they share a class together. regina ends up developing a crush and u can finish the rest lol (maybe incorporate karen inviting the reader to sit with the plastics at lunch as she’s walking by without consulting with regina first?)
Pairing: Regina George x Reader
Warnings: None
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Math class dragged on, the teacher talking animatedly about something you couldn't bother paying attention to. Your class bestie, Karen, was seated beside you, taking notes diligently for a reason you couldn't fathom. It was quite endearing how she actually cared about her grades and education, despite the fact that she was a Plastic. Not that you thought of her, or any of the Plastics differently. After all, they were just normal people.
Pretty, rich, popular, normal people.
The bell rang after what felt like forever, signaling the end of class. You began packing up your things, when you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. You glanced over, to see Karen grinning at you brightly. "Hey, Y/N. You want to sit with me at lunch today?"
You blinked, momentarily stunned at her question. "You mean, like, at your table?"
Karen laughed loudly, her straight, pearly white teeth on display. "Yes, Y/N. Come on, it'll be fun! Please?" The brunette pouts, batting her long eyelashes at you pleadingly. She was so sweet, you would feel bad saying no. Plus, it wasn't like you really had anywhere else to be.
You groan, reluctantly agreeing, to which Karen squeals excitedly. "Yay, yay, yay!" She grabs your arm and loops it with hers as you toss your backpack over your shoulder, dragging you out into the hallway and into the massive rush of students. Karen expertly weaves you both through the crowd until the cafeteria is in sight.
As Karen tugs you toward the Plastics' table, your eyes land on Regina George, staring down at her phone - long, blonde hair fell across her strong, exposed shoulders, clad in a tight-fitting tank top and high-waisted jeans. Her nails were perfectly manicured, pretty golden rings adorning her fingers with a necklace to match.
God, how did she always look so pretty?
"Hi, Regina!" Karen plops herself down next to the blonde, as you slink into the bench across from her. Regina finally tears her eyes away from her phone and instantly land on you.
"Um. What are you doing?" She raises an eyebrow at you accusingly. You knew she didn't mean to be rude, just surprised that you were here, since usually you would skip lunch in the cafeteria and opt for the library instead, to complete homework assignments while you ate. It was quieter and less crowded, too. Not to mention the librarian loved you.
Sometimes Regina would even surprise you in the library, asking you to help her with her homework or claiming that she was bored and wanted someone to talk to.
You smile at her, placing your backpack down at your feet. "Hey, Regina. Karen invited me to sit here today."
Regina clenches her jaw, her eyes icy as she turns over to the brunette, who grins at Regina innocently. They exchanged glances, expressions filled with something that you couldn't quite decipher. You sat there in awkward silence as they glared at each other, Karen smiling teasingly at the blonde. "If you don't want me to sit here I can go-"
"No!" Regina speaks hurriedly, grabbing your hand as it reached for your backpack. You raised your brows at the unexpected contact, staring down at her hand wrapped around your wrist. She quickly released it, a light pink hue dusting her cheeks. "I mean, it's fine, you don't have to leave. Karen just didn't mention it to me, that's all."
You steal a glance at Karen, who simply smiled at you, as if she knew something you didn't. She began to talk to the pair of you excitedly about something - you couldn't really pay attention because you felt Regina's eyes burning holes in the side of your head. You could practically feel her eyes drag down your frame, taking in every little minute detail of your face. After a few minutes, Gretchen arrived at the table, pressing a kiss to Karen's cheek as she did so.
She greeted you kindly, already knowing you from the classes you shared together and how much Karen talked about you. The couple exchanged a knowing glance, before excusing themselves to the lunch line. Which left you alone at the table. With Regina.
"So, Regina," You turn to look at her, meeting her pretty hazel eyes that were already looking at you. She smiled at you teasingly, tilting her head as she awaited your question. "How's your day going?"
Regina rolled her eyes, leaning her chin on her hand as she leaned closer to you. "That's the best you got? Come on, I know a pretty girl like you can spark a more interesting conversation with me."
You laughed lightly at her joke, thinking nothing of the little compliment thrown in. "Well, we saw each other a few periods ago. And, I do actually want to know how your day is going."
The blonde huffed but caved, beginning to talk about her first half of the day, which consisted of complaining to her teachers, pretending to pay attention in class, and judging the fashion choices of her classmates. All normal Regina George behavior for a Tuesday.
You listened to her intently, watching the way she gestured with her hands and tossed her hair over her shoulder every so often. You were so attentive that you hadn't noticed Karen and Gretchen returning to the table, staring at the two of you with satisfied smirks.
"How about you, nerd? How has your morning been? Don't tell me Karen was bothering you again in class." Regina nudges your foot under the table, poking her tongue out at the brunette whose jaw was dropped incredulously.
"I do not bother her! She is my math class bestie, isn't that right, Y/N?"
You laugh along with the group, reassuring Karen that she was your class bestie, too. Regina excused herself from the table; you eyes follow her as she walks toward the lunch line, her hips swaying in those tight jeans. She glances over her shoulder, catching you staring, throwing you a wink and a smile. You felt your skin flush a little, clearing your throat and turning back to the other two girls.
They were already looking at you and smirking, again.
"What is up with you two today?"
"Who, us?" Gretchen places a hand over her heart dramatically. "What so ever do you mean, Y/N?"
You roll your eyes at the redhead, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "You know exactly what I mean. You two, with your little smirks and smiles. What are you two doing?"
Karen shrugs innocently. "Oh, nothing. Just observing, that's all."
You raise a brow at her. "Observing what?"
"Regina-"
Karen is interrupted by the blonde returning to the table, silently sliding a full tray of food across to you, as she sits down with her own. You look up at her in shock, your mouth slightly hanging open.
Regina looks around at the three of you as she takes a bite of her food. "What?"
The couple raise their hands in mock surrender, as you look at Regina with soft eyes. "Thanks, Regina. You didn't have to do this." The blonde shrugs, gesturing with her chin for you to eat.
"No biggie."
It was a biggie, a huge one, actually. Karen and Gretchen had never seen Regina be as nice to anyone like she was toward you. She would bring you your favorite coffee order in the mornings on her way to school, since you two shared first period, then walk you to your second. She kept a bag of your favorite snack in her locker in case you texted her, complaining about being hungry. Not to mention, she had a photo of your class schedule on her phone in case of emergencies. All unbeknownst to you, of course. To put it simply, the blonde had a massive crush on you. Meanwhile, you just thought she was being nice.
Karen and Gretchen both knew, though, of course, having heard Regina complain for months about how much she liked you, how you were her first ever girl crush, and she felt like she was going insane. You were way too oblivious to realize that she had literally been flirting with you, every time she saw you. She'd throw in compliments, brush against you, tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, sometimes even hold your hand as to "not lose you in the crowd". She really just wanted to find an excuse to touch you.
Regina felt like she was losing her mind waiting for you to notice. At this point, she would have to sit you down, look you square in the eyes and straight up tell you that she likes you. She was worried that even then, you'd think she was just being nice.
You, on the other hand, have had a crush on Regina since last year. The first time Karen introduced you to her, you were a goner. You decided to bury it though - you knew she could never reciprocate feelings for someone like you: reserved, quiet, shy. She was the total opposite, and you assumed she would want someone who was more like her.
Sure, she was extremely nice to you and sort of mean to everyone else, but that's just because you two were somewhat friends.
"Y/N? Hello?" You were snapped out of your thoughts by long fingers waggling in your face, Regina looking at you with furrowed brows. "You okay?"
You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding and shooting her a weak smile. "Yeah, sorry, I'm fine. Was just thinking about something." You finished eating your lunch as the three girls chatted amongst themselves, Regina stealing glances at you occasionally. You smiled at her, more reassuringly this time, which eases her posture a little bit.
The bell rings much too soon this time, disappointed groans echoing throughout the room as students begin to file out and toward their next class. The four of you do the same, Regina taking your tray and returning it to the trash area before you could protest. Karen and Gretchen wiggle their eyebrows at you before hugging you goodbye, waving at Regina as she returned to the table with you.
"Let's go, I'll walk you to class." Regina took your hand in hers, lacing your fingers together and tugging you along. You just managed to grab your backpack as you stumbled behind her, shuffling to catch up with her long strides. As soon as she turned into the hallway, students parted like the red sea, making a clear path for the two of you to walk. You couldn't help but flush at the feeling of everyone's eyes on you, staring you down as you inched every so closer to Regina.
"Aren't you going to be late? It's fine, Gina, I can-"
The blonde stopped dead in her tracks. "What did you call me?"
You felt yourself pale, silently cursing yourself for the mistake. You hadn't meant to call her that out loud - you knew how angry she got when people called her outside of her name. You cringed, waiting for her to lash out at you, but it never came.
You stole a quick glance at the blonde, who was already looking at you with soft eyes. "I'm not mad, nerd. Just surprised. You've never called me that before."
You stammered, trying to find words. "Sorry, yeah, I just...I think it's a cute nickname for you."
The blonde smirked at your nervousness, once again tugging you along with her to your class. "It is a cute nickname. Just like you."
You feel yourself smile at the compliment - Regina was just so sweet to you. "Thanks, Gina."
The hallways were mostly clear now, aside from a few students scurrying to their classes at the last minute. Regina stopped walking again, turning to look at you with her brows scrunched together. "Does your brain work?"
You looked at her, dumbfounded. "I...what?"
She simply stared at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "Your brain. Does it work? Is it on?"
You were genuinely speechless, failing to find any words to respond. Regina rolled her eyes, tugging you into the empty locker room. She sat you down on the bench before sitting herself beside you, leaning toward you. "Seriously, Y/N, do you have a concussion or something?"
You laughed incredulously. "Regina, what are you talking about?"
The blonde groaned, exasperated. "I have been flirting with you for months, Y/N. Months! Yet, you walk around, la-di-da, as if I'm just being friendly. When have you ever seen me be nice to anyone?"
Your mouth drops open at her words, opening and closing like a fish out of water. "You...what?"
"Oh my god, Y/N, I like you, okay! I have a big, fat, lesbian crush on you. I have for months."
"No you don't."
Regina sputters out a laugh. "Y/N, you're joking, right? I literally just told you that I do."
You frown, looking down at your hands. "I...no. You can't like someone like me." Your voice grows small, nails beginning to pick at the hangnails.
"Hey," Regina scooted closer to you, cupping your face in her warm hand. She brushed her thumb over your cheek, bright eyes gazing into yours with conviction. "Don't talk down about yourself. Yeah, you might be a nerd, but that's part of the reason why I like you, Y/N. I like that we are opposites in a lot of ways. If I was with some bitch like me, I'd go nuts."
You laugh lightly at her words, leaning your weight into her touch. "Stop, you're not a bitch. And I like you too, Gina. I have for a long time, actually. I'm surprised Karen hasn't told you."
Regina laughs, using her other hand to grab your hip and tug you closer to her. "That girl can keep one hell of a secret. I think her little lunch invitation today was her way of telling me to go for it." Her hand tightens on your hip just barely, her eyes flicking across your face. "Would you slap me right now if I kissed you?"
You roll your eyes, resting your hands on her bare shoulders. "No, Gina. You can kiss me."
The blonde smiles and does just that. Her nose brushes against yours, warm breath fanning across your lips as she meets them with her own, softly, sweetly.
After a beat, you both pull away, resting your foreheads together and sharing a smile. "Can I take you out this weekend?"
You nod, brushing a strand of her soft blonde hair behind her ear. "Duh."
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i hope you enjoyed this one! my goal is to continue posting regularly, so please keep an eye out for more fics coming soon :)
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fushigowo · 1 year
Text
𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 | 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ PAIRING: gojo satoru x fem!reader
⇢ ˗ˏˋ SYNOPSIS: the aftermath of yours and gojo satoru’s midterm essay and how your relationship came to existence. contrary to popular belief, gojo satoru is actually the sweetest jerk of a boyfriend you’ve ever had.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ WARNINGS: none!! just some cute fluff and suggestive themes <3
⇢ ˗ˏˋ NOTE: i have finally awaken from my peaceful century of slumber, resurrecting amidst the fog from the land of the dead, and bringing back the fluffiest, tooth-aching, heart-warming set of fluff i have ever written.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ PART I | PART II
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1. The midterm essay was a success. However, Gojo Satoru noticed that something is wrong.
You and Satoru were able to score a high grade in your midterms for literature class. It was amazing how the two of you managed to finish a ten-page essay regarding the social context of Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck. However… during the week of working on the essay, of course there were some… other sessions that Satoru initiated.
During the entire week, you felt like you had lost your ability to walk and you’re not even exaggerating.
“You okay, sweetheart? I didn’t overdid it this time, right?” Satoru asks as he puts his shirt on while sitting on the edge of your bed.
“I’m literally struggling to walk right now, Satoru.” You stare at him in disbelief.
“Oops, my bad!”
But that being said, the entire week was a blast for both you and Satoru. Not only you’ve been fucked several times by your beloved, you also earned a high grade from your literature professor and was able to help Satoru in LIT 2000.
After the midterm week, Satoru noticed that you’re back to being the shy quiet student who rarely participates in class again. You’ve also been ignoring him after the week. The white-haired man couldn’t help but feel unsettled about your actions. Because why would you avoid him when you like him so much? And to Satoru, being ignored by the person he admires and likes is no different from being stabbed right through the chest.
Why were you being so distant from him all of the sudden? Why were you ignoring him like you didn’t just spend the entire week together?
Satoru knows that something is wrong so he decided to disturb you when you were studying in the library.
You were busy studying for a test when a loud voice called you from afar; a voice that you knew too well.
When you raised your head to stare at him, the other people in the library were staring daggers at him. Satoru makes his way towards you, ignoring the other students and even the librarian. The white-haired man stops in front of your table and sits across where you’re sitting.
“Hey, sweets,” he smiles. “What are you doing?”
“Studying…?” you said, as if it wasn’t obvious. “Why are you here, Satoru?”
“The question is why are you ignoring me?”
You let out a sigh and ignored his question. You close your laptop and pack your pens and notebooks but Satoru suddenly grip your wrist, making you look at him with furrowed eyebrows.
“What is it, Satoru?” you ask, trying not to make your voice loud enough for everyone else to hear. “Look, let’s not discuss it here.”
“Fine. Take me somewhere more private.”
And that’s how you end up being eaten out by Gojo Satoru in the most secluded part of the library after explaining why you’ve been avoiding him.
2. Gojo Satoru remembers the little details.
After a tiring week, Satoru came busting in your library work to free you from the stress that you’ve been dealing with since… well, since forever, he thinks. But now, he’s here to alleviate your stress (and back pain).
Satoru had plans of dragging you out from your library work but he had to wait for you to finish since library work is an important part of your schedule. After that, he finally drags you out of campus to try the new dessert shop that had recently opened.
“I know you’re fond of sweets because it relieves your stress,” he smiles at you before holding your hand and enters the small shop. “I had to explore places that serve desserts near the campus so I can treat you. Oh, and you definitely deserve a treat after a stressful week.”
Oh… he remembers my rambles during aftercare.
Your heart races rapidly inside your chest, cheeks start to heat at the sweet gesture of Satoru. Like he predicted, the weight on your back of carrying loads of responsibilities and stress was suddenly lifted. It was amazing how Satoru was able to understand you more than you understand yourself. He knows what to say, what to do, and what not to do to lighten your mood.
Contrary to popular belief that Gojo Satoru is a cheating fuckboy, he is actually the opposite. Every one in the campus just see him as one because of how he constantly flirts with every girl he sees. In your defense, you think Satoru is just being nice to them. The nicknames are actually what gives it. He told you that he just likes calling everyone with the nicknames he gives.
“Sooooo… how is it? It’s good, right?” he smiles.
“Yeah. So good.” you smile back.
“You got something on your nose,” he says.
“Hmm? Where?”
“Here!” he yells before coating the tip of your nose with chocolate ice cream.
3. Gojo Satoru understands how your mind works.
You are anxious.
And Satoru can see it.
Sitting on top of the rooftop of your apartment building, you stare at the cityscape with your arms wrapped around your legs and chin on top of your knees. Satoru sits down next to you and asks what’s wrong but you didn’t answer and just continue to stare at nothing.
“Alright. Tell me what’s in your mind, sweetheart,” he says. “Something’s bothering you, obviously.”
“I’m just… I’m scared, Satoru,” you whisper, still not looking at him because of how pathetic you feel. “I’m scared of what might come. I don’t know how things will be for me after I graduate. Like, I know I have plans—big plans—but what if… what if I didn’t—what if I didn’t get to do all those plans? What will happen to me then? What will happen to me if I didn’t get to live the life that I wanted? If I didn’t get to become the person that I wanted to be?”
When you finally had the courage to look at him, your eyes are blurred with hot tears, making Satoru’s eyes soften at your current state.
Satoru doesn’t understand why but he likes it when you’re vulnerable around him. He likes it when you’re not scared of telling him what you really feel and what goes inside your head. Because a person like you, who rarely opens up to anyone in their life, means that you trust him enough to tell these things and to be vulnerable around him.
“I’m sorry, Satoru. I shouldn’t have said tha—”
“Thanks for telling me that, sweetheart.” he smiles before cupping your cheeks, his thumb rubs your soft skin, as if his hands are touching the most delicate flower that he has ever laid hands on, afraid of breaking its petals and ruining its beauty. But Satoru, no matter which state you are in, you are still the prettiest in his eyes.
“I know the future can be… shit and unpredictable but y’know, that’s kinda the exciting part of it. It’s full of… unexpected things; full of surprises; full of ups and downs. But one thing that I’m sure at is you will definitely be the person that you want to be. And right now, you’re doing everything you can to have the future that you want,” he says. “It’s okay to be anxious, sweetheart. Trust me when I say this, you will get the things you want and desire because you work so hard for it. Even if you didn’t get all of what you want, I’ll be by your side to help you. Even if you feel like what you did wasn’t enough, I’ll be by your side to tell you that it’s more than enough, okay? You are more than enough. Now come here and give me a hug.”
You smile at him as you sniff and wipe your tears away before giving him a tight hug. Satoru kisses your forehead.
And what seems like a dream is actually a moment in reality.
4. Gojo Satoru is your biggest supporter and your number one fan.
Upon sitting on your desk in LIT 2000, your professor called your name for you to recite the earlier discussions regarding your lesson last meeting, which was African American Literature. Recently, Satoru has been participating more and more in class which was because of you.
He figured that if his girl is the smartest student in class, then he’d better step up and level your intelligence. Everyone else were surprised except you and your professor. The both of you know damn well that Satoru is a smarter than he looks. But Satoru’s recent constant participation burned something inside you. Every time he speaks, he would look at you with a smirk on his face. It was as if he was taunting you.
Ever since you and Satoru would do your study routine together, his grades were over the top and his participation started to become consistent. Of course you wouldn’t let your smartass boy take the number one rank in literature class from you.
“Yes, Mr. Gojo? Would you like to share your—”
“I would like to answer it, professor.” you raise your hand, surprising the others as well as Satoru.
When you finally stand up from your seat, all eyes are on you as you answer the professor’s question. But it was then followed by another question and another question, and you figured that your professor is definitely taking her time asking you all those questions to make up for the ones that you didn’t answer because of your… shyness. As you answer every question she throws at you, the smile on Satoru’s glossy lips becomes wider and wider as this is the first time he has witnessed you talk in full confidence.
“Yes! That’s my girl!” his loud voiced echoes in the entire classroom, which made you hide your face from your professor and the others because of how… embarrassing that was.
When you finally sit back down, you look over your shoulder and made a face, asking ‘what the fuck was that?’. But Satoru just smiles widely at you and gave you a thumbs up.
You couldn’t help but to smile back at him and give him a thumbs up.
5. Gojo Satoru finally unmasked himself in front of you.
It was the worst of times of Satoru.
However, everyone was oblivious to that thought. Well, almost everyone. To them, Satoru remains the same goofy person that he is even after… losing someone so important to him. To them, Satoru is a big asshole. Why? A big asshole for not even shedding a tear even after losing someone important to him. A big asshole for not reacting the way a normal person would react to a loved one’s death.
How did Satoru react?
Laughing and shrugging everything off. Showing no signs of tears nor sympathy. He just fucking shrugs it off.
“Oh, yeah that! I’m not thinking about it too much, y’know? I’ll eventually get over it!” he smiles. “People come and go after all.”
And people would say to him: “How can you be so insensitive?”
To everyone, Gojo Satoru is a rude, insensitive jerk.
Well, almost everyone.
“Satoru?” you call out. “You can talk to me. I’m right here. I’ll listen.”
Satoru’s back is facing you and you notice how he wiped something off from his face and sniffed before turning around for you to see a wide smile on his face as if he’s not falling apart. His red yet pretty eyes says otherwise.
“Hey, sweetheart! What are ya doing here? Went to see me for a kiss?”
“Satoru,” you mumble. You are definitely not amused. “Stop it.”
“Stop what—”
“Stop whatever this is,” you say. “You keep putting on these faces to make everyone see that you’re okay or unaffected by these events but I know that you’re falling apart, Satoru.”
Satoru’s smile slowly disappear from his face as he continues to listen to you.
“You can cry in front of me. You can tell me what’s in your mind. You can let yourself out of that… that façade of yours and just fall apart just this once.” This time you look at him straight in the eyes. “I just don’t want you to go through this alone, Satoru. I’m here. Let me carry the weight of grief with you.”
And then, Gojo Satoru fell apart… but this time, you were there to pick him back up.
Satoru wraps his arms around you. His legs start to wobble, making him fall down on the concrete along with you. Even though his face is buried on your chest and his arms wrapped around your back, you can tell that Satoru is crying because of his quiet whimpers and sniffs.
“It’s okay, Satoru,” you whisper as you caress his pearl white hair. “I’m here.”
“I lost him,” he whispers, accompanied by whimpers and hiccups. “My best friend… the only one I had…”
For the first time, Gojo Satoru finally unmasked himself in front of you.
6. Gojo Satoru has interesting ways to claim that you are his.
Satoru had invited you in their fraternity party.
It wasn’t the first time that you’ve been in these kinds of party. Your best friend invited you to come with her before but that was the last time you went to one because of how uncomfortable it was for you. Your best friend told you that she’ll stay by your side the entire night but once the both of you had entered the party, she was already chugging down some beers and partying with the other students, leaving you no choice but to sit and hide in the corner.
But this time, you had trust in Satoru that he’ll never leave your side because you already told him why you don’t come to these kinds of parties anymore.
Now, you’re sitting next to Satoru, talking to some of his friends and some freshmem that tagged along. The freshmen—Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuuji, and Fushiguro Megumi—are actually fun and nice to hangout with.
This is the first time that you’ve enjoyed a party.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Satoru leans closer to your ear for you to hear. “I’ll go grab us another beer. Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know, ‘kay? I’ll be right back,” he says before kissing your temple and stands up from where he’s sitting.
After a few minutes of waiting for Satoru, you felt uneasy so you left your seat to go look for him. Since he was getting drinks, you figured he'd be somewhere in the kitchen where you encountered someone you don’t know. The guy was probably drunk since he can’t seem to walk straight and has a bottle of beer in his hands.
“Hey, pretty, what are you here for?” he asks, making you back away.
“Uh—I’m just—I’m looking for my—”
“Hey, sweetheart! What’re you doing here? I got us some drinks!”
Hearing your boyfriend’s voice made the fear and panic jump out of you. When you saw him through the doorway, you immediately sprint towards him and wrap your arms around his waist.
“And I thought she’d be available in bed,” the guy mumbles, making Satoru furrow his eyebrows and the next thing you knew, the guy was beaten up pretty badly and your boyfriend was kicked out of the party and the two of you spent the night driving around the city, looking for the perfect spot of the city lights where you and your boyfriend can feel like you’re on top of the world.
7. Gojo Satoru loves your drunken state.
When you told Satoru that you’d be out drinking with your friends, he asked each and every one of them to text him if you ever get drunk. He doesn’t want you to take an uber or have your friends take you home, he wants to be the one doing that so he is sure that you are completely safe.
And that’s what your friends did.
When you finished two bottles of beer, you were a complete mess and god knows how much of a mess you are when you’re drunk as hell. The moment that your friends realized that you need to be taken home is when you started to cry about how much you miss your boyfriend and kept asking why your friends took him away from you.
So when Satoru got to the street where he’s supposed to meet up with your friends and you, he didn’t know what he was seeing. You were throwing up in a trash bin like you’re about to transform into a fucking werewolf.
“How many did she drink?” he asks.
“Five. She was… enjoying,” one of your friends replies.
“I can see that,” he chuckles before taking you in his arms. “How worse was it?”
“Not worse than before. All she did was cry and whine. Anyways, our ride will be here soon. Take good care of her, Gojo. We trust you.”
“Yep. Thanks for looking after her!”
Satoru waves to your friends as they get inside the car then turns his gaze on you, clinging onto him like a koala holding onto a tree.
“All right, sweetheart. Let’s go home, yeah?”
Oh, you were drunk as fuck, alright. You can barely even walk so Satoru decided to carry you like a newly wedded wife. But your sniffs and whimpers stop him in his tracks to check up on you.
“You okay, babe?” he asks. You nod and wiggle yourself to get out of Satoru’s grasp to make yourself walk. You told him you can, so he let you. Now you’re wiggling and can’t even walk a straight line while your boyfriend chuckles from behind.
“All right, that’s enough,” he says before holding you again.
Satoru cages you closer in his embrace, feeling your warmth and breathing the scent of alcohol in you. But your instincts suddenly kick in, so you shoved Satoru over before yelling, “I have a boyfriend, mister! His name’s Satoru and he’s gonna beat you up if you touch me!”
“Oh? Who’s your boyfriend again?” Satoru tries his best not to laugh.
“Gojo Satoru. And he’s not gonna be my boyfriend anymore after this,” you say.
“Why not?” Satoru raises an eyebrow.
“Because I’m gonna propose to him and ask him to marry me so he can be my husband,” you chuckle. “So don’t touch me! I need to go home to him!”
Satoru lets out a laugh, almost loud enough to echo in the quiet streets an hour after midnight. His shoulders shaking up and down as he amuses himself at the things you were saying in your drunken state.
No wonder you don’t drink much when you’re out with Satoru. You don’t want him to see you in your drunken state yet this is a side of you that Satoru wants to see. Yes, he knows you’re an introverted woman who is secretly a very horny one yet comfortable when it comes to people she’s close with, but this is something that Satoru has not yet seen. He doesn’t know if he’s going to record you or just let this be a memory in his mind. He chuckles to himself and figured that this is something that only he knows and he witnessed.
“Oh, that won’t happen, sweetheart!” Satoru hugs you behind your back, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“Why not? Is he dating another person? Would he say no if I propose to him? What if he says he doesn’t want me to be his wife?! What if—”
“No! That’s not what I mean,” he chuckles. “That’s not gonna happen because… Satoru will propose to you first. He will ask you to be his wife and if you say yes, the two of you will have a cozy home and a sweet, little family, full of small Gojos and a pet too.”
“You think he’s gonna propose to me?” you ask.
“Oh, he definitely will,” Satoru smiles before wrapping his arms around you again to take you to his car. “Now let’s take you to Satoru.”
8. Gojo Satoru loves hearing you read to him.
Aftercare with Satoru is almost similar as being in heaven. His kisses, his rambles, his praises, the way he takes care of you, the way he whispers sweet nothings to you is the same as floating on Cloud Nine.
But this time, you wanted to be the one to take care of him, too.
“I love you so much, baby,” he whispers before kissing your temple. “I’ll make you a hot bath, okay?”
Just when he was about to stand up, you call out to him, making Satoru look over his shoulder.
“You can just stay here with me, ‘Toru. Let’s stay in bed for a while, please?”
And how can he say no when you’re giving him those doe eyes that he can’t resist?
So when you told him to get back on the sheets, Satoru didn’t hesitate to do so. With a large smile on his lips, your white-haired boyfriend settles himself on the bed, his arms wrapped around your back and his face rested on your chest, you being the big spoon and him, the little spoon.
“Read to me, angel,” he whispers. “Wanna hear your voice.”
“Okay,” you chuckle. You stretch your arm to get the book on the nightstand on your side of the bed. “Where did we stop—Ah, here.” You settle yourself wrapping your other arm around Satoru will the other holds the book.
You clear your throat before reading, “‘I want to make Romeo jealous. I want the dead lovers of the world to hear our laughter, and grow sad. I want a breath of our passion to stir their dust into consciousness, to wake their ashes into pain.’” As you read the passage from Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray, your fingers caress Satoru’s soft, white hair while the man feels himself slowly drifting to a peaceful sleep.
“YN?” he calls out.
“Hmm?” you hum in a low tone.
“I’m so glad we got partnered at that midterm essay.”
You chuckle before leaning closer to him. “I’m glad too, ‘Toru…”
9. Gojo Satoru gets along with your cat very well.
“Tada!”
“Uh, babe? What am I looking at?”
“His name’s Tooru! With double O’s!” You smile as you hold your white, Persian cat by its armpits, showing its full glory to your boyfriend. “He’s so white and fluffy and he reminds me of you, so I named him Tooru but it’s spelled with double O’s.” You nuzzle Tooru in your embrace while your boyfriend processes what’s happening.
Did you just replace him with a cat?
“Did you just replace me with a cat?”
You didn’t answer him. You didn’t even bother looking at him since you’re too busy baby-talking your new cat, Tooru. Satoru can’t deny that Tooru isn’t cute. In fact, he is the most adorable cat he has seen, but the now that you’re giving attention to your cat rather than him, he couldn’t help but be—
“…jealous? Satoru, are you jealous of Tooru?” you ask, almost bursting out in a laugh.
“So what if I am?” he pouts. “You obviously love him more than me! You only had him for, like, 4 hours and you have me for three years!”
“Come on, don’t be so immature, Satoru!” you chuckle. “Tooru deserves much as love as you get. Oh, and can you play with him for a while? I’ll make us dinner!”
You stand up and kiss Satoru on his cheek then kiss your cat all over his face before heading toward the kitchen. When you finally disappeared from Satoru and Tooru’s sight, your white-haired boyfriend glances at your cat like it’s about to steal the love of his life—which he actually thinks is happening right now.
The bored expression of your cat’s face as it stares into Satoru’s cerulean blue eyes makes him even more pissed because what are the odds that the cat has the same color of eyes as his? Your cat is the cat version of Satoru and he hates it because he is the only Gojo Satoru in your life. Immature, yes, but almost nothing is ever taken maturely by your boyfriend.
But since you came to love Tooru so much (but not much than you love him, Satoru thinks), he realizes that it would make you happy if he gets along well with your cat.
“Fine.” Satoru sighs. “Hi, Tooru! Aren’t you adorable?” your white-haired boyfriend attempts to caress Tooru’s soft fur but was taken aback and shrieked when Tooru’s claws swiftly attacked Satoru’s hand.
“Shit! What the fuck, Tooru!”
“What happened?” you run from the kitchen to the living room only to see your boyfriend’s arms crossed and your cat curled up at the corner as if a father is scolding at his child.
“Babe, Tooru just—”
“Oh, my poor baby.” You didn’t take a glance at Satoru and made your way to Tooru to caress him in your arms and pull him in a hug. “Satoru, you know better than to yell at our child! He’s just a kid!”
“Are you serious right now?”
It’s been weeks since Tooru came home with you and since then, he has been ruining yours and Satoru’s relationship. It’s as if the cat has a manipulative mind of its on to sabotage Satoru. And every time Tooru successfully does so, Satoru swears that his cute, little tongue sticks out to mock your white-haired boyfriend.
Now, you’re packing your bags to go visit your family for a few days. Satoru has to stay since he’s finishing his graduate studies in Language and Literature so your boyfriend has no choice but to stay with your cat that he cannot get along with.
“Alright, Tooru, your mom’s gone which means I’m in charge.”
For the next few days, Tooru has done nothing but mess with Satoru. But it wasn’t until your white-haired boyfriend finally figured something out when he bought a laser. He read somewhere that cats can be played and tamed with lasers and catnips and a ball of yarn so that’s what he did.
Satoru realizes that you cut Tooru’s claws before going so he won’t get a chance to claw him out. The more Satoru gets closer to Tooru, the more Tooru gets comfortable with him. So when your boyfriend thought it was time to buy another bed for Tooru, he bought the most expensive one since he thinks your cat will soften with him if he buys something expensive.
But that wasn’t until the package finally arrived but then Tooru decided to make the box of the package to be his shelter instead of the expensive one that Satoru bought.
“God, what would I do with you, you little devil.” Satoru chuckles then rubs Tooru’s head before picking him up in his arms. Satoru sits on the couch and opens the TV, your cat is now purring on his stomach. “Heh, your mom will be home for another hour now. And, you won’t be staying in our room for the night.”
After spending the night waiting for you while watching TV, Satoru fell asleep with Tooru still purring on his stomach, leaving the TV open. The dim light of the screen is the only source of light surrounding the apartment but it wasn't until you open the door and flick the light switch on. You were greeted by a sleeping Satoru and Tooru so you had to hold your excitement back in order to not wake them up.
My boys are so cute!
You cheer before taking a picture.
Needless to say, you had the photo put in a picture frame.
10. Gojo Satoru realizes that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.
Satoru stirs awake from his sleep, his eyes start scanning the room, still engulfed with darkness with no rays of sunlight coming from the windows. The white-haired man glances at his sides to check the digital clock next to him, sitting on the nightstand. It’s already ten minutes past 3AM.
His gaze travels back to your side of the bed. There you were, so deep in a peaceful slumber as you lay on your sides, facing Satoru. He pulls the sheets of the bed up to your chest before letting out a soft chuckle. Satoru knew you were tired as hell after last night’s session since he couldn’t control himself.
His slender fingers caress your soft cheeks, your warmth traveling to his fingertips like lightning striking the grounds of the earth that sends shivers down his spine. Satoru leans in closer to you and gives you a delicate, gentle kiss on your forehead, his lips feels like petal gently touching the ground as he gives you his kisses.
“I love you,” he whispers.
Gojo Satoru couldn’t help but look forward for tomorrow and rest of the days, of the months, of the years that he will be spending with you soon. He looks forward to waking up every morning when the first thing he will be seeing is your face, he looks forward to spending peaceful days with you and Tooru, and he looks forward to spending the rest of his life with you.
From the moment Gojo Satoru enters your life, his goal from the very start was to marry you, and that’s what he’s going to do.
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FUSHIGOWO © 2023 | REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED ♡
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pholla-jm · 6 months
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Say My Name
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IMAGINE: SAY MY NAME~ LUFFY X READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. use of (y/n). ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Luffy has gone by many names.
 Monkey D. Luffy. 
Mugiwara. Strawhat Luffy. 
Lucy.
Luffy tarou.
Captain. 
Or simply Straw Hat. 
He doesn’t mind any of the names that he is called. 
However, that changed when you joined the crew. 
You always called him Captain, and he didn’t mind that. But he grew to hate. Why? Well it all started when he paid attention to how you interacted with the rest of the crew. 
“Hey Nami! Do you want to paint nails together?” You call out to her, holding out a new tube of nail polish. Nami smiles brightly at your requests and nods her head. 
Luffy first noticed that you called her by her name, and not by her title. 
“Zoro, can you move your weights please?” You call out to him. Since you were bored, you wanted to clean the area. But his weights were in the way. “Just clean around it.” 
Luffy watches the scene, head tilted. Wondering why you didn’t call him by his title. 
Later, when the crew was finished with dinner, you had stayed behind. So did Luffy, waiting to see if there was more food. 
“Hey, Sanji. Mind if I help with dishes?” You ask. “Oh no, my dear. You shouldn’t sully your hands. You should head to bed, get a good night's rest.” You smile fondly at the cook, “thank you. Goodnight.” 
You turn to see your Captain, “good night, captain.” “ night.” He responds, deep in thought. 
It went on like this for days, weeks, and almost months. Hearing you call out everyone’s names. “Robin” “Usopp.” “Chopper.” “Franky.” “Brook.” 
And yet. When it came to him, it was just Captain. Never Luffy, and he was getting quite frustrated at this point. He just wanted to hear his name from you at least once.
So when you were by yourself on night watch he decided to take the initiative. He stretches himself up onto the crows nest. 
Upon hearing the familiar sound of rubber stretching, you turn around to greet your Captain. 
“Hey Captain, what brings you here? Shouldn’t you be sleeping or something?” 
“Why don’t you ever say my name?” He got straight to the point. 
You stare at him in confusion, “What are you talking about? I do say it, captain.” The captain pouts his lips, “no. That’s not my name. It’s just a title.” 
“Well, yeah. And that title is your name.” “But you never call anyone else by their title.” “Hm, well I was just raised this way. You’re the captain and this is just how I’m showing my respect for you.” 
Luffy hums in response with a thoughtful look on his face. 
“As your captain, I want you to call me by my real name. Captain's orders.” He smiles at you like he just found the biggest loophole, “you have to respect that, ya know?” 
You just laugh and shake your head. “Fine, I'll start calling you by your real name.” 
He looks at you, waiting for you to mutter the simple word from your mouth. However, it is silent. And the both of you are just staring at each other. 
“Oh, you mean now?” 
Luffy nods his head. 
“Okay…. Luffy. I’ll start calling you by your name.” 
A huge grin breaks out on his face. He didn’t know that hearing his name from you would be so… addicting. The way you said it sounded so smooth and alluring. It drew him in, and he definitely wanted more. You had a slight accent so his name sounded a bit different. However, he still liked it. 
“Say it again.” 
“Huh?” You laugh, “why?” “Just say it again. Please.” 
“Okay, Luffy. I’ll say your name as many times as you want.” 
He took that quite literally. 
“Again.” 
“Luffy.” “Again.” “Luffy.” 
Every time you would say his name he would get closer and closer to your face. Almost like if he got closer, he could somehow hear his name better. Every time he got closer, your face would get redder and redder. Your noses were basically touching, and you could feel his breath fan against your lips. 
“Again.” 
“Uh, Luffy. What are you doing?” “I want to keep hearing you say my name forever.” 
You nervously laugh, afraid to even speak out loud since he was still so close. “Luffy, we have all the time in the world. You can hear it whenever you want.” You whisper.
He purses his lips and pulls back slightly. “You’re right. Just one more time, please?” “Okay, one more time. It’s time for you to go to bed, Luffy.” 
Luffy’s face turns into a smile, “okay. Thank you (y/n).” 
You don’t respond. You just smile at him and watch him departure for the crow’s nest.
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milktei · 5 months
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Homecoming
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Ushijima Wakatoshi x gn!reader
Genre: Sickfic, hurt comfort
Warnings: Slight manga spoilers
Requests: Closed*
a/n: hello hello! (is acting like i haven’t been gone for forever), can you believe i found this just sitting on a random note in my phone 90% done???? i literally wrote this over a year ago and never found the motivation to finish it ;-; due to its age toshi might be a bit ooc.
anyways, i’m not entirely back yet but i keep seeing lovely comments and reblogs that just make me want to start writing again ;-; maybe with the haikyuu movie being released soon my motivation will amp back up. ALSO i’m gonna try to start reblogging regularly again
*request box is still technically “closed” but if anyone has some genshin or *ahem* Baldurs gate 3 requests, i may be inclined to write if they pique my interest :)
enjoy!
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If there was one thing that you knew for an absolute fact. it would be that volleyball would always be his main priority.
You knew this well before you started dating him, it was part of the reason you refused to admit your true feelings for him. You refused to take him away from his first love. Something that he was so visibly passionate about.
So you stayed on the sidelines, watching wistfully as the boy you had a crush on rose higher and higher, while you stood on the ground looking up in awe. This was comfortable, you were content with just watching and admiring. It was all you thought you were able to do.
Until he had asked you out first.
You had genuinely thought that Tendou was joking when he had told you that the Ushijima Wakatoshi saw you as anything more than one of the team’s managers.
His face was always devoid of emotion. Your interactions were limited to him nodding in thanks as you gave him a towel or water bottle, or him humming in acknowledgment as you relayed to him the notes you took after the most recent practice match.
And yet you found yourself standing in front of him, just outside the gym after practice, heart absolutely racing as he asked you out on a date.
Your first date was awkward to say the least. Having never spoken outside of club activities, you found it hard to keep a conversation flowing as you two sat in a cafe sipping your drinks.
He had walked you back to your dorm that day, but before you could go in, he had grabbed your hand.
You stared in shock at the large hand enveloping yours, “Ushijima?”
Suddenly, you felt a tiny gust of wind and a slight pressure against your forehead. You could only stammer dumbly as you realized the pressure was his lips.
He pulled away after a moment. He was heavily avoiding eye contact and turned his head to the side, but you could see the tips of his ears turning red.
“I don’t know much when it comes to this stuff. But I know I would like to go out again… if that’s okay with you of course.”
You gaped at the boy in front of you “I- um we…” you took a deep breath to centre yourself and smiled “Yes I would like to go out with you again Ushijima.”
Your relationship progressed quite fast after that. More dates, hanging out with him and Tendou in their dorm.
You were there for everything, cheering him on during games, you were the first person he would seek out when he won, you comforted him after a loss.
Your relationship lasted through high school and even university. It wasn’t long before you two ended up moving in together.
When Wakatoshi found his place with the Schweiden Adlers you were ecstatic. You had also just landed a great job and it felt like your two were simply cruising through life with ease.
Unfortunately your seemingly perfect life would never last forever.
Being in the v-league, volleyball seemed to fill his schedule more now than ever. Constant practice, games outside of the city even in other countries sometimes.
You hardly saw Ushijima anymore despite living with him. Even when you did, he was tired or just about to leave for practice.
It felt like you were pushed back into the sidelines. Watching hopelessly as he rose higher and higher, to places where you could not reach. It was no longer comfortable, you could no longer look in awe, but in despair as you watch him slip from the already loose grasp you had on him.
You couldn’t even remember the last time you went on a date. Every time you mentioned doing something in his free time he had brushed you off.
Which led you to now.
You woke up to an empty bed yet again. It was your day off so you weren’t rushing to get out of bed.
Yet you felt off.
The dryness in your mouth and throat is what you felt first. Then how runny your nose was. Finally, the cold sweat you were experiencing.
You were definitely sick.
You groaned to yourself and pulled the blanket to your chin. Hoping that you could possibly sleep it off.
Yet your efforts were in vain. After what felt like hours of trying to fall back asleep you realized that you were just going to feel even more miserable without anything to eat or at least drink.
You pushed yourself up onto your elbows and immediately regretted it. The world spun around you and your entire body shook. You collapsed back onto your pillow and panted at the exertion it took.
As you caught your breath you turned your head towards your bedside table, where your phone sat charging.
Weakly, you lifted your arm and with a bit of effort you were able to grab your phone. As it turned on you winced at how bright the screen was and with bleary eyes you managed to open your contacts.
The words seemed to blend together as you searched through your contacts, you nearly sobbed in relief as your eyes finally focused on the name of your best friend.
You clicked the call button and dropped you hand to beside your ear, preparing for the way your throat would undoubtedly hurt as you spoke.
After a couple rings you heard the person on the other side pick up and you quickly began speaking, desperate to get them to come quickly so that you could hopefully feel better.
“Hey, I’m sorry if you’re busy but do you think you can bring me some drinks and maybe food? i’m not feeling the best and I don’t know if I can get up at all.”
The person on the other end of the phone began talking but you could barely decipher it as your head spun and your body shivered despite how warm you were.
“-/n….y/n?”
You froze at the deep voice on the other side of the phone. You pulled away an looked at the screen, nearly breaking down at the sight of Wakatoshi’s name instead of your friends. Quickly you put it back against your ear
“Ah I’m sorry Toshi. I meant to call a friend you’re probably busy you don’t have to come back home.” you said quickly, actually sitting up as you rambled nervously, reprimanding yourself for interrupting his practice.
You had called and texted him during practice before. At one point he was fine with it, responding during breaks or calling you back once practice had finished. But lately you had been greeted with one worded responses, or you were just ignored.
One time you even tried to pry once he got home from practice, asking him about his odd lack of response. That day, he had turned to glare at you.
“I’m busy y/n. I don’t have time for things like that.”
“You’re sick?” your thoughts were interrupted by his voice again. He used a tone much gentler than the one he had used that day.
“A little bit, nothing to worry about I can just call-“ you cut yourself off with a harsh cough, unable to hold back the whimper as your throat throbbed in protest.
“I’m coming home.”
Whether from his words or the fever you couldn’t tell, but a chill ran down your spine
“N-no toshi you don’t have to I’ll be fine don’t leave practice just because of me”
“I’ll stop by the store for some ingredients don’t get out of bed.”
And with that the call ended. Slowly, you took the phone away from your ear and looked at it in shock. He was leaving practice early. Something you weren’t aware he was willing to ever do.
At least not recently.
Only when the shock settled, did you realize just how much your body was protesting you sitting up. So, despite your better judgment, you lied back down, waiting in nervous anticipation for him to come home.
What might have been half an hour felt like forever as you laid in bed. Shivering underneath the comforter despite sweating profusely, rubbing your nose raw from having to blow it constantly, all whilst it felt like you were spinning.
In your haze you didn’t even hear the front door or you bedroom door open. How could you when your body demanded all the attention you had?
Wakatoshi stood frozen in the doorway, a plastic bag hanging off his arm, silent as he took in the state you were in.
How hadn’t he noticed before he left? you couldn’t have possibly entered this state within the couple of hours he was gone.
He felt a tug of unease pull at his heart and willed himself to walk up to you.
“y/n,” he called softly. sitting on your side of the bed.
You flinched at the sound of his voice not knowing he was in the room. Slowly, you opened your eyes and winced at the light in the room.
“Toshi,” you croaked pathetically.
His face softened and he brushed your damp hair away from your face, frowning when he felt how warm your forehead was.
“Hey,” he greeted, he lifted a hand and that’s when you saw a thermometer from the medicine cabinet in his hand “can you open your mouth please?“
Weakly, you did as he asked, and as it sat in your mouth, he quickly walked towards the master bathroom. Mumbling something about a towel.
You didn’t hear him however as you turned your head back towards the ceiling and already felt your eyes drooping again.
You only came to when you felt something cool against your forehead, you opened your eyes to see Toshi looking down at you with furrowed eyebrows. The thermometer beeped and when he looked at the reading the crease deepened.
Toshi disappeared for a moment again, making his presence known when he began to take the comforter off of you.
You whined as he did so, shivering even harder as air hit your body. You even sat up to try and grab it back.
“‘s cold toshi,” you slurred.
He was quick to place a thinner sheet on top of you “I know dear, but we have to get your body temperature down.”
As you pulled the blanket closer Wakatoshi opened the bag he brought with him. You heard the rattle of a pill container and then the crack of a bottle being opened. Wakatoshi turned to you and held out some medicine and water.
You reached out a shaky hand to take the medicine, placing the pill in your mouth. Wakatoshi helped you hold the bottle, noting how weak your arms were.
You sighed in temporary relief when you finished drinking, glad that your mouth felt less dry.
Wakatoshi allowed a small relieved smile to cross his face and he quickly helped you lay back down.
“I’ll make you some food, stay here.”
Once he was sure you were comfortable he made his way to the kitchen quickly getting his ingredients ready.
It was only when he was midway through washing some rice when he took a moment to pause.
When was the last time he had cooked for you?
Wakatoshi continued his task albeit feeling guilty thinking about how you’ve been the one cooking and eating dinner alone for some time now. It used to be a shared responsibility. Now he usually came home late so you would put a plate aside for him or he would go out to eat with the team.
He was still deep in though as he pushed the bedroom door open with his back, a tray consisting of a bowl of rice porridge and a cup of tea left a trail small trail of steam as he walked.
You were asleep but woke easily at the sound of his footsteps. It took a moment for your eyes to focus on him.
He gestured with the tray, “Do you think you can eat?”
You looked at the food, perfectly plated and garnished, your mouth watering slightly at the savoury smell.
“I think so. At least a little bit.”
He helped you sit up, and when he saw the weakness still in your arms he fed you himself.
You hummed contently at the first bite of food. You had missed this more than you thought you did.
After about half the bowl was done and your tea finished, you signalled that you stomached as much as your body would allow. Now with your body temperature having gone down and your stomach full you could feel yourself becoming less and less loopy. You watched quietly as he put the tray on the bedside table. When he was finished with that, he sat still on the bed and stared at the wall.
You looked at his face, despite it deceptively lacking emotion, you knew better than anyone else that something was bothering him.
However before you could ask he began to speak
“Why wasn’t I the first person you contacted when you realized that you were sick?”
You froze, looking down in your lap fiddling wIth a loose thread in the blanket.
“…Well…you’ve been busy as of late….I didn’t think it was important enough to take you out of practice. Someone less busy would have probably been willing to come.”
He slowly turned to face you. “You didn’t think that your wellbeing was important enough?”
You shrugged, “Well volleyball is always going to be your biggest priority. I’m just sick it’ll pass.”
Obvious distress crossed Ushijima’s face “y/n, you are my main priority.”
You paused. Perhaps it was time to tell him how you were really feeling instead of dancing around the subject.
“…It hasn’t felt that way lately.” you say hesitantly, your voice small.
Wakatoshi faltered. You kept looking down, almost scared to look him in the eye.
“I was content with that at first, your love of volleyball is admirable, it’s was drew me to you at first. But it always made you seem unattainable. When you asked me on that date all those years ago I was over the moon,” you paused to clear your throat huffing in annoyance as your sickness interrupted you.
“But I can only endure so much Toshi. Nowadays it feels like your going where I can’t reach. You’re always busy, which is understandable for a professional athlete… I just wish it wasn’t to the point where I’m worried about your reaction if I were to try to talk to you.”
There was a shift in the mattress. Then familiar arms that you had been longing for wrapped tightly around you.
“Toshi you’re gonna get sick.”
“It’s fine,”
“but-“
“I’m sorry y/n.”
you stiffened but stayed quiet to let him speak.
“You’ve done so much for me without complaint and I have done so little in return. i’m sorry for letting it get to this point. It took you getting this sick for me to realize.”
A stormy look crossed his face, “I… I’ve been struggling to balance work and home, in return I’ve been neglecting you and letting how tired I am influence my reactions. you don’t deserve that. you are my first priority y/n, I don’t know what I would do without you.”
You sniffled and wiped a tear that fell from your face. You didn’t even know you were crying. For a man usually so quiet and stoic, he always knew what to say to you when he needed to. It was always so endearing to you.
“If I had known you were going to take it this well I would’ve said something earlier,” you say softly.
He smiles sadly, “I haven’t been making it seem that way hmm?”
You shake you’re head but smile back, “no”
He sighs to himself but places a gentle kiss against your forehead much like how he did all those years ago. Your eyes flutter shut and you make let out a pleased sigh. You were much more comfortable than you were when you first woke up.
“We’ll talk more once you get better. I promise,” He eventually says. holding you a bit closer to him.
You nodded and snuggled closer to his chest. While it wasn’t an immediate fix, it was a start.
“Sounds good to me Toshi.”
He smiled down at you “Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
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luvzpagie · 5 months
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goofy!kk arnold x goofy!reader hc
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- ok first off you guys are always making stupid ass tiktoks. one of you guys are always asking eachother other to do one with another.
- “baby we should do this tiktok right now” kk said basically shoving the phone in your face. i imagine it being something like this and she’d be hella handsy with it too,or even that trend when you recreate poses LMFAO.
- speaking of tiktok its too many tiktoks of you guys dancing, best hype man ever. this girl is practically screaming “aye” when you start dancing.
- “AYEE, period baby keep going!!”
- don’t get me started on when she start doin her “bow bow bow” dance, you’d be right behind her doing some crazy shit too. and the team would not beat amused.
- “oh my gosh, they at it again” ice sighed, shaking her at yall bs.
- y’all definitely did the “grabbin on my shirt trend” kk would be a little confused at first then start turning up with you.
- “bae what the hell-”and this girl just immediately get hype.
- whenever kk is on live, you right there on live with her. even if you doing something else she always finding a way to put you in it.
-“okay yall so my girlfriend finna show yall how to..” kk said doing her lil smacking noise, and you go right along with her.
-“boom you gotta add a little bit of powder and not much or it’s gonna look pale and cakey” you explained giving the live a makeup tutorial. while kk smiling on side admiring you.
- and if you’re not doing that you just end up singing for them, kk encouraging u in the background.
- “ou yall my baby ate it up”.
- the team forever on look out when you two are out together, y’all somehow find a way to get into something.
- “wheres kk and y/n ??”
• and y’all just pop out of nowhere with the most ridiculous and random ass hat or coat on.
- to finish it off, you guys are always taking silly ass pics together and post them on your page.
• i get vibes that y’all would post something like this or kk would post evil 0.5s of you.
- and everyone just eats it up and loves and adores yall relationship.
❦.
kk is literally my baby, and my twin.
hope yall enjoyed. PLEASE give feedback !
mwah.
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seokgyuu · 2 months
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The Sweetest Thing - Teaser
All your life you’ve been your sisters’ punching bag. Never good enough. Never fully accepted. When your mother makes one of them choose you as her maid of honor you reluctantly agree. Semi-vacationing in Tuscany with your ‘beloved’ family, you meet two handsome strangers one night and let them do whatever they want with you. Too bad you didn’t ask for their names first.
Pairing: Heeseung x F!Reader x Sunghoon 
Genre: Strangers to ???, Porn with Plot
Warnings: CHEATING!!! reader is hooking up with her sisters’ fiancés, sisters are horrible and suck, mentions of past verbal abuse, reader is somewhat a pervert (she defo is), heeseung & sunghoon definitely are perverts, heeseung & sunghoon are mean, they have nothing good to say about their fiancés, alcohol consumption, adult content MDNI! smut warnings will be in actual fic
Word Count: 5.7k (so far)
Release Date: August 8th
Taglist: @skzenhalove, @haelahoops, @deobitifull, @shiningnono, @jakeswifez, @slut4hee @gyuhanniescarat , @branchrkive @doublebunv , @capri-cuntz, @jaehyuniewifeu, @whateverhoon, @c-oupsie you can be added by replying to this post or sending me an ask <3 there must be an age indicator in your blog since this is a nsfw fic! 
Something about the Italian sky seems different. Maybe it’s because you’re not close to a big city, but the stars shine brighter than you’ve ever seen them. It feels like a movie; the stars and moon so visible with no cloud in sight, the small street of Arezzo you’re currently sitting in - a small restaurant with a small menu but a nice older man that speaks decent English. A glass of wine standing on the small table beside you and the first bit of peace you’ve felt in days. 
It’s when you take your next sip of wine you see them. 
Two men straight out of a magazine walking towards one of the free tables next to yours and sitting down. There is nothing you can do but stare. Both of them have dark hair, one of them a bit shorter than the other. They are dressed elegantly, designer shoes and pants, blazers hanging over their chairs. Even if you wanted to - you could not possibly say which one was more attractive. 
What a nice way to end a horrible day, you think. Smiling, you finish your glass and immediately order the next, not entirely used to drinking so much, but not caring since you are miles away from home and no one here knows you anyway. The waiter nods and then proceeds to go over to the newcomers. The one with the slightly lighter hair and the mole on his nose orders in perfect Italian, with just enough of an accent for you to know they aren’t from here. Your choice of table appears to be perfect for watching them, listening to them converse in a language you understand. 
And it all stays innocent like this - they talk about their flight and about friends - until suddenly the conversation sways.
“I honestly- fuck, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this, you know?” The one with shorter hair says and his friend sighs, taking his wine glass and finishing it in one go. Impressive. There was at least half left in yours. 
“I don’t know what to tell you. We committed and now we’re fucked.”
“Just that we aren’t getting actually fucked.”
They look at each other before they laugh, shaking their heads. Meanwhile, your ears perk up. 
“Fuck, I really don’t know the last time she let me hit it, Hoon. I think I’m going crazy.”
“Yeah, same here. Like, yeah, we fucked once the day before her flight. But literally only missionary and she didn’t suck me off.”
“Again? Dude, is she ever even putting her mouth on it?” 
“Nope. Ever since we got engaged she’s like this fucking prude. Is yours like that too?”
“Yeah. I got her flowers and her favorite chocolates and she still wouldn’t even jack me off, like fuck, if it’s gonna be like this forever I can just go cut my dick off.”
Jesus. These two seem to be in very happy relationships. Makes you almost feel better to not be in one. Even if your mother would beg to differ. She’s been desperate for you to find a match for ages. For whatever reason, really, considering her two golden girls were about to get married to rich and handsome heirs. 
“Just one good blowjob, man, that’s all I want, really. I miss getting some good fucking head.”
The way short hair looks at mole - with so much understanding and pity, you can’t help but chuckle. Chuckle loud enough for them to take notice. 
Their gazes burn on your face before you even see them. But when you do your smile dies and instead makes room for horror. They heard you laugh at them. Even worse, they know you’ve been listening. Shit. 
Thankfully, you are three glasses of delicious white wine in and the fourth one is almost empty. Which means you aren’t the sweet little wallflower you’d usually be. Scary, how alcohol can change people.
“Oh, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped.” You apologize, placing your hand over your heart. 
“Agreed.” Short hair says, his eyebrow raised. Now, with both of their eyes on you, it seems like they are even more attractive. Perfect faces with pretty eyes and soft looking hair. Handsome men in unhappy relationships that fail to give them what they need. It’s almost comical how the switch in your head turns over, how the persona you normally never let anyone see until you’re in a secluded space comes out and gives you the courage to speak your next words.
“I just couldn’t believe my ears,” you let your finger glide over the rim of your glass, eyes on the two men with your tongue slipping out to lick over your bottom lip, “how anyone would be opposed to having sex with you.” 
Oh.
Sunghoon and Heeseung’s ears perk up just like yours did earlier. Eyes widen slightly as they understand the innuendo in your words. 
They think about the same thing - the last time they took a girl together. Probably during senior year in college. Back then, they used to do that regularly. Having almost the identical type in women. Instead of having to let her choose, she’d get them both. 
But it’s been years since then. They are in committed relationships now, about to get married. And still - neither of them can deny that you fall right into their usual prey, or well, the prey they’d chosen back in college before their parents had picked out their wives for them. 
It’s the way you look at them, the way your eyes say so much more than your words. It is also the way both of them feel like they are 22 again with nothing but getting their dick wet on their minds. One thing about Heeseung and Sunghoon - they always worked perfectly in a pair. Back in college and now, too. They can almost read each other’s minds at this point, only a short exchange of looks needed to know neither of them gave a single fuck about anything right now.
“Want to sit down with us?” Sunghoon asks and points at the free chair opposite them. You smile. 
“It’d be my pleasure.”
header credit @wongyuseokie <3
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lila-went-missing · 8 months
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Saw you want to write Clarisse x Reader and I NEED more clarisee x reader fics SO!
Can you a Clarisse x reader of when Percy broke her spear and just like readers reaction to the her scream and just very angsty but very fully at the same time! Pls and thank u!
I swear on my life reverse hurt/comfort is one of my favorite things to write on this planet. Also, I feel like it’s worth mentioning that Dior said she literally BLEW OUT HER VOICE when she did that scream?!?! She never fails to amaze me.
This got a bit sadder than intended but it's not too bad. Also, sorry this took so long, I had a math test, two essays, and a debate, on top of personal shit. But I FINALLY got it finished.
My Love is Waiting For You to Come Home
Warnings: Slight violence, mild angst, hurt/comfort, cursing, small amounts of blood, mentions of wounds, lmk if I left anything out.
Pair: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Apollo!Reader
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For the first time in what felt like forever, capture the flag was going great. It had been a long time since the red team had won, but you were actually doing really well. You were up in a tree close to the flag, shooting anyone who got too close with your arrows. They weren't sharp, but they had enough of a point to hurt.
Clarisse was hunting in the woods below you. You'd occasionally catch sight of her from the place you were perched on your branch. She always looked amazing like this. Hair pulled back, armor on, spear in hand. She was in her element, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't extremely attractive. The way she looked so tough, her lucky red bandanna tied around her bicep.
Anyone else would say she looked terrifying. But to you, she was the most beautiful person you'd ever laid eyes on. You were the only one who got that side of her.
It wasn't long before she disappeared again, hunting down anyone who dared to get close to the flag or your tree. She had mentioned something before the game. Something about revenge on the new kid. She didn't go into detail about said revenge, but you new it wouldn't end well for someone.
You didn't move from your tree, assuming her and her siblings had everything handled. And they did, for a while at least. You had shot down another four people by the time you heard your girlfriend scream in a way that genuinely terrified you.
Jumping down from the tree, you raced to the sound as the conch horn blue. You made it in time to see her storm off as the blue team carried the flag over. Just before she made it out of sight, you saw the spear in her hand. Or rather, what was left of it.
Oh gods. You thought.
You tipped your head back, letting out a breath before turning in the direction she went. You found her in the arena, tearing dummy after dummy into shreds. You let her go at it for a while, watching from the doorway.
Eventually, you slowly walked towards her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Clar.." You whisper.
She jumps, turning quickly, ready to knock you into the ground before relaxing. All of the tension disappears from her face, her bottom lip trembling. You reach forward, taking the sword from her hand and tossing it into the rack haphazardly.
"I- fuck.." She drops her head forward, breathing hard.
"Come on.. it'll be okay." You lead her towards your cabin, knowing all of your siblings would be in the infirmary tending to peoples wounds. You can see cuts and bruises on her arms, giving you a feeling that her back will be even worse. You make sure to grab the pieces of her spear on your way out.
On the way to your cabin, her eyes don't leave the ground. Your hand stays on her back the the whole walk, not leaving even as you open the door for her.
She sits on your bed, putting her head in her hands. The broken weapon lays on the foot of your bed as you sit next to her. Her breath shakes with her body.
"Let me clean you up, okay?" She nods, at your words.
"Okay.." Her voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before. You lean forward and pull her shirt over her head, confirming your suspicions about her back. An angry red covers almost the entirety of her tan skin, small amounts of blood leaking from a few spots.
You hover a hand over the scrapes and cuts, a warm glow emanating from your palm. Her wounds slowly heal as her muscles relax. Your heart breaks for her every time you hear her wince or feel her breath hitch. Your free hand reaches forward, grasping hers. A few small scars form over the area, but nothing that won't fade.
You lean your chin on her shoulder when you finish, wrapping your arm around her front. Her other hand reaches up to hold your wrist.
"I love you.." You whisper into her ear.
She hesitates, not speaking for a few moments. When she does her voice is as shaky as her body.
"That was the only thing- the only proof he-" She can't finish either sentence. You can feel her holding her breath as if she's trying not to cry.
"I know, my love. I know." Your lips press into her shoulder. "I'm gonna talk to some Hephaestus kids, I think there's a couple of Hecate kids in the Hermes cabin. I'll do everything I can to fix it."
Her whole body shudders. She's never had the best relationship with her dad. He'd always said that she should've been a son. That spear was the only acknowledgement she'd ever gotten from him. And now it was broken.
A few tears slip down her cheek that you pretend not to see.
"It'll be okay, Clar'." Your arms tighten around her as her head leans into you.
"Thank you." She mutters. If it wasn't for your close proximity you probably wouldn't have heard it at all.
"You deserve someone to care about you.. I'll be damned if I don't do everything I can to be that person."
"I love you. So much." Her voices is so soft, so gentle.
"I love you more." You're not sure how long you sit like that, but it's long enough for your legs to go numb. You can bring yourself to care as she looks so comfortable. She's always had to fight for her dad's love. It gets tiring after you do everything you can to get no recognition. It was nice to know she had someone. If she didn't have anyone else, she would have you.
Eventually you moved positions to her laying on your chest. Your hand rubs up and down her back as her wrap around your waist. She traces patterns across your skin with her finger tips. It's not long before you're both sound asleep in each other's arms. She would never have to fight for your love, it was just there, ready for her when she came home.
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hopesworlld · 7 months
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౨ৎ pretty when you cry
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౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — dark!anakin x fem!reader
౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — anakin needs to prove you are his forever, he knows the perfect way how
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 1k
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, toxic!anakin, dead dove: do not eat, smut ( mentioned p in v, creampie, knife play, ownership, d/s dynamics, spanking ) literal carving of anakin's name into your back so... think this is everything !
౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — got drunk, went feral, enjoy
masterlist
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“i have an idea,” anakin muttered against your flushed skin, you were lying on your front, anakin atop of you, his cock still throbbing inside of you as he pumped another load of thick hot cum into your swollen cunt. 
“yea?” you murmured faintly, drool coating your chin and eyelids fluttering. it had been hours since he had dragged you into the bedroom, face flushed and fist clenched after he had checked your phone and found messages between you and another man. you had tried to explain yourself saying it was only one of your coworkers asking about the timetable, but he knew it was a lie, he wanted you, and he would fucking kill someone before letting you go. 
“wanna show jamie who you belong to,” he said, running his hand along your lower back, you shivered at the contact, back still aching after having been perched on your hands and knees for so long with anakin jackhammering into you. “make sure that you never leave me,” he continued, hands cupping your firm ass, still flushed crimson after the spanks he had given you. 
“i won’t, ani,” you whispered, pressing your cheeks further into the pillow, exhaustion racking your frame but anakin shook his head, slipping his hands up to your hips again and holding tightly. 
“oh, i know, baby, could never survive without me could you?” he crooned kissing the back of your sweat-soaked neck, “need me to keep you safe from all those men who want to hurt you, take advantage of you, too sweet for your own good, baby doll,” he thrust slightly, his cock brushing your cervix and you sobbed. 
“ani, i’m sensitive,” you whimpered, but you pushed back against him, settling him deeper and anakin grinned. 
“i know, baby, little pussy so overwhelmed by my cock,” he whispered, “just stay still and i’ll make you cum again for me, want to see you cream over my cock one more time once i’ve finished,” anakin said, pulling back slightly, his hand reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling something out. “this is gonna hurt, pretty,” he told you. 
“what… ani, what are you doing?” you asked trying to twist your face to look at him but anakin gripped the back of your neck and forced your face into the pillows, holding you down. 
“stay still,” anakin hissed, “you stay there and don’t fucking move,” you shuddered, biting down on the pillow as something cold and sharp traced across your back.
“ani,” you whimpered, and he snickered a sharp cold thing as he pushed harsher and you felt the bite of a blade against your heated skin. “anakin, what are you doing?” you gasped, dipping down on the bed trying to escape the knife but anakin grasped the back of your neck holding you down, swinging the knife around his fingers so that the blade was facing upwards so that he could spank you harshly on your throbbing ass. 
“the fuck are you doing,” anakin seethed, “don’t want me to make you mine? don’t want me to prove that i own you, scared that someone else is gonna have you bent over and see?” he spat, and you shook your head frantically. 
“no, no ani, i’m sorry” you gasp out, “no one will ever see me like this, only you, i’m just scared,” you cried out, hot tears streaming down your ruddy cheeks. 
“you don’t need to be scared, baby doll, i would never hurt you,” he whispered, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “i only want to keep you safe, all i’m ever gonna do, so be a good girl and let me do what i need to do,” anakin said, biting down on your ear lobe before pulling back and pressing his knife to your lower back once again. “don’t move,” he murmured before digging the knife into your skin, it was a horrible aching burn that sank deep beneath your skin and jolted up your spine, you hissed in agony as he dragged the knife along your back, carving something into your skin. you were sobbing, biting down on the pillow to silence the screams brewing in your throat. 
“doing so good for me, baby,” he told you, “just stay still, almost there,” the pain was indescribable, you could feel every drag of his knife against your back as it pierced your skin, sinking deeper into the flesh, you could feel hot blood spilling down your back dripping down your skin and onto the sheets. 
“ani,” you screeched into the pillow, his grip keeping you still as you began to squirm on the sheets in agony. 
“almost done, baby doll,” he crooned, moving the knife along and suddenly he was sinking it in once again, you jolted and the knife sank deeper but he didn’t stop, continuing to carve until he was done and then he pulled back admiring his work. “perfect,” he whispered. 
“what,” you spluttered out, unable to move as pain radiated from your back and jolted through every nerve. “what does it say?” you asked him quietly and anakin chuckled, you heard him shuffling about, grabbing his phone and snapping a picture of your back before showing you, and there crudely etched into you back, marred by blood was his name. anakin had carved his own name into your skin deep enough that it would probably scar forever. anakin. his forever. 
“let’s send this to jamie, huh?” anakin chuckled and you couldn’t stop him, not when he began to pump his hips against you once again, the delicious pressure of his cock against your cervix enough to send you spiraling into a world of pleasure and pain and you were powerless to stop him. 
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this is the most outrageous thing i have ever written icl
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kiss-me-cill-me · 7 months
Note
hear me out:) reader wants to try vanilla sex with Dr.Crane since he always has some kind of twist or experiment when it came down to it. And he ends up doing her against the wall and it’s just really intimate. love your works, and it’s totally fine if this isn’t something you would write🤗
I love a challenge haha ;) And I always enjoy getting to explore different sides of a character. While he might not be nice in most of my fics, I do think that Crane has a sweet side. Somewhere in there lmao. Thank you for requesting, anon!
V. planifolia
Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: Your boyfriend comes home unexpectedly early, and you take the opportunity to try something new.
Warnings: Smut, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of bondage, mentions of edging, slight overstim, dirty talk, dumbification if you squint, dare I say... some domestic fluff? (in MY Jonathan Crane?!), established boyfriend/girlfriend relationship
A/N: The biggest mental hurdle I had to overcome in writing this was referring to him as "Jonathan" instead of "Crane" lmao. He's just always Crane in my head. And while things are pretty vanilla, he's still sassy, because... well, it is me writing him lol
***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***
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You were so used to your boyfriend coming home late that it was almost a surprise when he showed up just thirty minutes after you'd finished dinner.
“Jonathan?” you called, cautiously getting up from the couch to investigate.
You'd heard the sound of a key turning in the lock, so logic dictated that it couldn't have been an intruder. But it was barely seven o’clock, and Jonathan didn't usually get home until after you were already in bed. He worked long hours; he always had. So you were shocked to see him standing there in the entryway, setting down his briefcase as he closed the door behind him.
“Baby? What are you doing home early?”
At the sound of your voice, he looked up. A small smile fluttered over his face; his eyes pale and tired, until they caught a glimpse of you. There was that mischievous little spark that you loved.
“Sorry to startle you,” he replied. “I can leave if you'd like.”
He was joking, and you laughed a little as your arms wrapped around his waist. Your bodies found each other easily, and you felt yourself sink against him in that comfortable way that you knew so well.
“No way - you're not getting away from me that easily,” you teased.
Your lips brushed against his, and Jonathan pulled you in closer until you were kissing him. As you sighed happily, you realized that it had been - approximately - forever since the last time you'd had an evening alone with him. You pulled away and looked back at him softly; gentle concern tinting your eyes.
“I'm happy you're home, but is everything okay?” you asked. “You really are back early.”
“Everything’s fine,” he assured you.
Jonathan gave you one more squeeze before he gently broke the hug, trailing off in the direction of the living room. You followed, a small skip already creeping into your step. Your smile threatened to break out at any moment. It was so good to have him home.
You watched from the doorway as Jonathan dropped heavily onto the couch, leaning his head back to look up at the ceiling as he sat. His jacket was already thrown over the back of a chair, and he rolled up his shirtsleeves, not watching what he was doing.
“I know that I haven't been home much,” he continued. His voice seemed to fill the room, making the small space feel even more intimate. “Work has been eating me alive.”
“I hope not literally,” you joked.
Though you could never be sure. Some of the patients he worked with at Arkham were… unique, to say the least.
“Not yet.”
He lifted his head to look over at you, briefly, before reclining again and throwing an arm over his face. Even with his eyes shielded, you could still feel the lingering, icy cold rush of his gaze. You walked over and knelt at his feet, helping him to remove his shoes.
As you tugged at the laces, you felt a surge of devotion wash over you. Jonathan always worked hard. Even though, yes, he wasn't around much during the week, he made sure to provide for you. In fact, you were sure that was all part of the reason why he so often worked late. 
Once his shoes were off, you let your soft fingers drift up his leg, brushing against the fabric of his trousers.
“Did you have dinner? Do you want something to eat?”
“Maybe later,” Jonathan replied, as he took hold of your wrist.
Gently, he pulled you until you were standing up, and then until you were straddling him, your knees pressed into his sides.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” you asked, settling into his lap.
As you spoke, your hands came up to rest on his shoulders. Kneading into his tension, you could feel as his arms relaxed under your touch. 
“I just want to spend time with you.”
His fingers trailed over your thigh, and you knew instantly what he meant.
“Oh, so that's why you're home early,” you teased.
You leaned in to kiss him again, this time slipping a finger to hook under the knot of his tie, pulling him closer to you. His tongue brushed against yours, and it sent an electric jolt down your spine.
“Aren't I allowed to miss you?” he teased back.
You felt your cheeks heat up. Both of you knew very well that Jonathan was always the one in charge in the bedroom, and hearing him talk as if you were the one who imposed rules on him made you feel flustered.
“You have no idea,” he continued, “how hard it is to work late, when all I can think about is how you’re here all alone. Waiting up for me. You've been good though, right? Haven't been touching yourself without me?”
The heat on your cheeks deepened, traveling all the way down to your core. 
“O-of course not,” you replied, cursing the way your voice caught in your throat. It was just like him to somehow have you wrapped fully around his finger less than five seconds in. “You know I wouldn't.”
Jonathan hummed, and pushed your hips up and off of his lap as he brought a hand down to brush softly over your clit. You jumped, even feeling him through all your clothing, and your knuckles stretched tightly over his shoulders. 
“Seems like you're telling the truth…”
And you were. You melted into his touch as Jonathan swirled his fingers against you, pressing them roughly. After going without for so long, every nerve felt as if it was on fire in between your legs.
“Ohh…”
Your soft sigh earned you more pressure from Jonathan; his fingers nearly digging into your clothed cunt. You rocked your hips, desperately throwing your head back as you held onto his shoulders for support.
“Stop,” he ordered.
“Mmmmmph.”
Your petulant whine filled the room, and your frustration only grew as Jonathan took his hand away. His command had been gentle, but you were so needy that it felt like torture.
Swiftly, Jonathan stood up and took you with him. Still holding onto your hips for support, he made sure your feet were on the ground before stepping forward. He backed you up with him, until your shoulder blades hit the far wall.
“I really have been away for too long, haven't I?” he breathed, filling your mouth with the taste of anticipation.
“It's okay… I know you're busy at work.”
“You're too nice,” Jonathan sighed. “I want to hear just how badly you’ve missed me.”
Almost instantly, he got what he wanted as you cried out, shocked by the way his leg pushed eagerly between yours. He pressed harder, still looming over you.
“That's better.”
“Jonathan-”
“Want me to tie you up like I did last time?” he interrupted. “Or do you want to try something new?”
It was impossible to miss the hint of excitement in his deep voice. You moaned as he dragged your hips down even harder, pressing your bodies together with an intensity that was almost too much.
“I- was thinking it might be nice to try something a bit different,” you answered, your voice slightly fragmented as he unbuttoned your pants.
“Mmm. You have any ideas?”
You took a deep breath. What you had in mind probably wasn't the same as whatever twisted idea was running through Jonathan’s head. It wasn't that you didn't like experimenting. It was just… you didn't like doing it all the time. 
“I was thinking… what if we just took things slow?” you ventured.
“What? Like you want me to edge you?”
“No, not… exactly like that.”
It was getting harder to articulate, as Jonathan’s mouth latched onto your neck, sucking and biting as he moved up toward your jaw.
“Like what, then?” he whispered wickedly, right in your ear.
“Like… what if we were just kinda… gentle?”
Jonathan pulled back to look at you, the slight hint of a frown on his lips.
“But you like when I'm rough with you.”
“I do!” you rushed to agree. “It’s just that… sometimes I want you to be slow and sensual.”
Your arms inched up to hook round his neck, and you pulled him in for a soft kiss, trying to show him what you wanted. Jonathan was stiff at first, but eventually he melted into the slow movement of your lips.
When the kiss broke, Jonathan took a step back, removing his thigh from between your legs. He pushed his hands under your waistband and started to, very slowly, shove the fabric down over your hips.
“We can try that,” he relented. Then added with a mischievous wink, “But if you get bored… just let me know.”
You hummed as his hands slid over your curves, dragging your pants down with them. Jonathan never did anything halfheartedly, and if you wanted it slow, then that was exactly how he would give it to you. Even if it did drive you crazy in the process.
Your slacks fell, pooling below you on the hard floor. Jonathan paused for a moment, before planting a kiss on the exposed skin below where your blouse had started to fall away. He pushed back your collar, to kiss more and then send a shiver right after, as he breathed over the wetness that had been left behind by his mouth.
He stood up straight, pressing an airy kiss to your forehead as his fingers trailed over the lace of your panties.
“Am I doing it how you want me to, darling?” he asked.
You felt yourself swoon again. You weren't used to him following your lead quite like this, but you liked it. A lot.
As was clearly evidenced by the wet spot that had started to seep through the fabric that Jonathan was toying with. He found the trace of your arousal easily enough, and pressed two of his fingers into the damp cotton.
“Nevermind. I have my answer.”
Slipping your already-ruined panties to the side, Jonathan brushed his fingers over your core before bringing them up to your clit. Swirling with just the right kind of pressure, he dragged a soft moan from your lips.
“Oh my god,” you sighed. “Keep going.”
He kissed you, slowly but sinfully, swallowing all of your breathy sighs and words of admiration as they slipped out. It was impossible to contain them, especially when you started to feel his own arousal as it pressed up against your hip, seeming to grow more impatient the harder he got.
“Jonathan- so close,” you whined, breathless already.
“You sure you don't want me to edge you?” he asked, maybe a little hopefully.
“No - please, let me come.”
The pressure was already building. Soon, neither of you would have any choice in the matter. You just had to get him to keep going, long enough for you to push past the point of no return.
“Well, if you're asking so nicely…”
Another searing kiss sealed your fate, and you scrambled to hang onto Jonathan as you felt yourself start to crumble.
He held you, still pressed firm against the wall, and you heard a deep chuckle resound from his throat.
“Good to know even this kind of stuff makes you a mess,” Jonathan droned. “Or maybe you're just so used to me doing everything I want to you, that this actually counts as variety now.”
You were barely listening to him; still too distracted by the delightfully sore feeling that seemed to permeate your whole body.
What you did notice was him slipping your panties the rest of the way off, letting them fall at your feet before gently guiding you to step out of them. With that done, he turned his attention to your blouse, delicately removing it and then tossing it to the side.
Your hands came up clumsily to paw at the buttons on his shirt, trying in vain to release them. Jonathan saw you were struggling, and gave you a small, knowing smile.
“Let me help, darling. It seems like you're having some trouble.”
You moved your hands to let Jonathan take over. He loosened his tie easily, and popped three of his buttons. But, quickly, he lost interest, and instead moved to unzip his pants.
When he finally sprang free, his cock hit your still-throbbing clit.
“Ah!” you hissed.
“Still sensitive?” Jonathan asked, rubbing himself leisurely against you.
Your only response was a whimper, but that was answer enough. Jonathan’s lips curled into a wicked smile, as he hovered close to your ear.
“Hold still,” he teased, reaching down to line himself up.
You squirmed, fighting within yourself as half of you wanted to scream at the sensation while the rest of you, conversely, needed to grind down harder. Every contact made you jump, and as he pressed in, you saw stars.
“Jonathan…”
You had expected him to start moving, but instead he held off. Staying right where he was, Jonathan paused so that you could feel just how completely he filled you. 
“Everything okay?” he asked, sickly sweet voice dripping into your ears.
“Fuck,” you replied.
He laughed.
“You’ve lost quite a bit of your usual eloquence.” He started to drag himself out. “But okay. Since you asked nicely again…”
As he pressed back in, slow but rough, you couldn’t help letting out an undignified sound. Jonathan smirked.
When he did it again, your whole body shifted, pressed up by the force of his thrust. Your head rolled back, hitting the wall lightly before lolling off to the side. 
“You’re so pretty,” he sighed.
As he spoke, he reached down to hook one of your legs up and over his waist. The new angle caused you to let out another choked whine, which earned you an even harder thrust.
“Maybe we should do this more often. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you like this.”
You could only imagine how you must have looked. Mouth hanging open and eyes half-shut, rolling back into your head from the pleasure as your chest heaved and your knees gave out. Jonathan smoothed a thumb over the edge of your jaw.
“Even though I can’t stop thinking about all of the other things I’d like to do to you,” he added, punctuating the sentiment with his hips. You swore you felt him shudder.
Kissing your suddenly-warm neck, Jonathan thrust into you again. Your hips snapped back weakly to meet him, and you heard yourself start to moan. You held onto him tighter, dragging your nails down his arms.
“I thought you wanted to be gentle?” he teased.
He hadn't been going very fast, but now he slowed down entirely. For a moment, the two of you stood, face to face, your breath and his in a sweltering mix, pooling out in the scant space between you.
Jonathan’s forehead came to rest against yours, and you looked up into the blur of his eyes. Two hazy pools of blue ice that were filling your vision completely.
“Want me to speed up?”
“No, this is nice,” you replied. A bit dreamily as your senses took time to adjust. Your skin prickled at his touch as he brushed a hand lazily up your arm.
“I can be slow then,” he laughed. “But it might be too hard if you keep looking at me like that.”
“How should I look at you, hm?” you teased.
“Like you’re pretending you don't want to be turned around with your wrists pinned up against the wall,” he teased back.
He pressed into you, exploring how deep he could go before you started writhing against him. Your leg on his waist tightened, pulling him in and holding him firmly in place for a kiss. 
You knew he might take some convincing, but you were prepared to take all night to show Jonathan just how good things could be, after practicing a little patience.
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jeonqkooks · 7 months
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to the loml, my beloved, may i play in the event game? hehe ;u; i would like your take on yoongi + "did i say that out loud?" + "stop looking at me like that!" ♡
i love you and congratulations again, jen oi ♡ muah~
sunlit sunday. (myg)
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pairing: yoongi x reader prompts: "did i say that out loud?" + "stop looking at me like that!" genre/warnings: best friends to lovers (?), college au, fluff; mentions of drinking, barely edited word count: 1.1k note: i do not know what this is, nor why it took me over half a year to finish this drabble. cee my love you sent this ask in august 2022 and it took me literally forever to post i'm sorry 😭
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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The sun is already rising, but poor Yoongi hasn’t slept a wink. Partly because he can’t feel his left arm from where it’s being used as your makeshift pillow, partly because last night you told him you were in love with him and proceeded to pass the fuck out.
There was a party - there’s always a party every weekend when you’re in college - that Yoongi didn’t even want to go to. He just wanted to spend his Saturday night holed up in his apartment with you, pizzas and a movie. It gives him something to look forward to at the end of every week, partly because he's nothing if not a creature of habit, but mostly because he gets to spend time with you alone.
But tonight, you wanted to attend, and it didn’t take a whole lot of convincing for Yoongi to (begrudgingly) accompany you to a frat house on campus to spruce up your weekly routine. He would always complain, but you both know that he’d do anything you ask.
That's why he didn't really have anybody else to blame when he found himself having to tuck a very intoxicated you into an unfamiliar bed at 2:30AM in this greasy frat house. It wasn't exactly the best idea, but it was the only one he had. Yoongi wasn't exactly sober, and you were too drunk for him to haul you home.
You babbled nonsense the whole time he was peeling off your shoes and outer layers so you could sleep more comfortably. It was difficult - you're a squirmy drunk - but he managed in the end. When it comes to you, Yoongi has had years of experience, having known you from your early high school days together and being inseparable ever since.
He had gotten under the covers with you, about to try and coax you to sleep when you sighed dreamily at the ceiling, looking so content with whatever thoughts in your head that it felt like you could float away.
"I'm in love with Yoongi," you said, so softly that Yoongi wasn't sure if he heard you right. But even in the midst of tipsy uncertainty, his heart went berserk like it was going to run away from his body. Then you popped the ringing bubble in his head with a sharp giggle, uncaring, so oblivious. "Stop looking at me like that! Did I say that out loud?"
He didn't know what to say, even though it didn't really matter anyway. You weren't in a state of mind to comprehend everything he wanted to ask, everything he wanted to say to you. Yoongi kept his eyes on you while you kept yours on the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
"You did," he muttered, averting his eyes, and you tittered again.
"Don't tell him." You turned to look at him with a finger pressed against your lips. He wasn't sure who you thought you were talking to but he didn't correct you; there was no point in doing so anyway. "It's supposed to be a secret."
He doesn't remember what he said next, if he even said anything at all. Though it doesn't matter because you promptly passed out afterward, and it's unlikely that you'll remember any of it when you wake up.
Everything from then until now is just a jumbled mess to Yoongi, his thoughts full of what the fuck's and his chest full of borderline painful palpitations every time you snuggle further into his warmth, seeking comfort in your sleep.
The thing is, he knows that you were being honest. You meant it, because you're nothing if not an honest drunk; you've disclosed your fair share of embarrassing secrets whilst under the influence before. But never would Yoongi expect to hear those very specific words coming from your mouth, words that reflect the same sentiment that he's been trying to profess to you for years now.
They rolled off your tongue, just like that.
If he's being honest, it wounds him a little bit. He's spent hundreds and hundreds of days thinking about the perfect way to phrase his affection for you and yet, you managed to spill your feelings out without a single care in the world.
Granted, you were drunk out of your mind, but still.
Eventually, you stir from your slumber when blinding sunlight slips through the cracks between the curtains. Yoongi watches you frown before your eyes are even open, then you try to stretch for a brief moment as you look around the strange bedroom, partly alarmed, partly confused.
When your gaze finally lands on him, he catches the way your eyes soften, the edges of your confusion melting away even though he doubts that the sight of him answered any of the questions in your head.
"Morning," you say, your voice heavy with sleep.
"Morning," Yoongi replies quietly.
You share a look, one that means completely different things for the both of you. You're probably hungover, and Yoongi is in love.
So in love that he doesn't even care to berate you for making him spend the night in a random bedroom in a disgusting frat house, where a pair of (likely dirty) boxers is casually chilling draped over a chair. So in love that it expels all sense of fatigue from his body until the only thing coursing through his veins is unfiltered fondness for you and the way your eyes crinkle when you smile.
So in love that he would wait until you're awake enough to ask him to walk you home, ask him to make you your favorite hangover breakfast while you take a long, hot shower to feel like a human being again. He'd wait until you're fed and caffeinated before joining you on the couch, prepared to kill the remaining hours of the day together. So in love that he'd only wait until that moment to tell you the things he's always wanted to say, the things that have always been on the tip of his tongue but he's never been brave enough to utter them to you.
He'd tell you what you need to hear, albeit with a bruised ego that you beat him to the punch but he'd pretend that you didn't. It's a secret shared between only Yoongi and the four walls of this bedroom.
He's so in love that he would endure staying up all night in this dump when he could've been in his own bed, comfortable and clean and cozy. But it's okay because it's Sunday and the sun is out, and you were the one sleeping peacefully next to him, despite how your head made his arm go numb. It's okay because love has a tendency to make awful things feel better, even if love is only stored in a set of sleepy eyes staring at Yoongi and a whiny voice asking to go home.
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all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 10.03.2024]
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