#tired reader

[the-secret-keeper]

EPIC: The Musical has inspired me Incorrect Quote

Crowley: Have faith, MC, we've come this far.

MC, tired: Yes, but how much longer 'til your luck runs out?

MC, looking around at everything he's done: How much longer 'til the show goes south?

MC, looking at their friends: How much longer 'til we all fall down?

MC, glaring at Crowley: You rely on wit, and people die on it.

.

Credit! Song: Luck Runs Out by Jorge Rivera-Herrans, Cast of EPIC: The Musical (This song is specifically in EPIC: The Ocean Saga)

[synthe4u]

The stress was beginning to seep in. Your eyebags becoming more visible by the day. No one could tell you were more tired than the past week.

You were more quiet and less aggressive in your talking. You seem to have lost your spirit in a way, but of course, the man in the mask figured it out.

Ghost eyed you on the other side of the room. You were bobbing your head, nearly falling asleep before being shaken awake by the slight fall of your body.

You were being distracted by the lights and paid no mind to Ghost's wandering eyes.

It wasn't until around 2100 (9:00pm) when he knocked at your door. You weren't asleep yet. Your light was still on.

Opening the door you asked, "Is something wrong?"

You hadn't changed out of uniform and still seemed out of it.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

"Why are you awake?"

You snapped back at him. You weren't in the mood. You've been tolerable all day, no arguments or fights, but it's clear he came to ruin that.

He stared at you in silence. The mask made him more intimidating which caused you to fess up.

You ran your hands through you hair, frowning in disgust at the knots in your hair.

"Just some family problems is all."

"Losing sleep over your family?"

You sighed, "What do you need?"

"Need you to sleep so we could complete this mission."

"I'm not broken, I can still do the mission."

Silence permeated the hall, other than the occasional fizzle from that one light the base swears isn't broken or haunted.

"Can I come in?"

The door widened a foot further, allowing the masked man inside. You didn't understand why you would let him in. You don't let anyone in your room, at least, not for silly matters like this.

He followed you further into your room after shutting the door, and settled on the side of your bed. You didn't have time to question it before you fell.

Collapsing on the spot, Ghost caught you before the ground could do actual damage to your body.

I guess the sleep had caught up to you, just as Ghost had caught you.

Sleep truly is not for the weak. Stay healthy, guys.

.............................................................................................................

masterlist

[m3vl0vesu]

Who wants to read something were a very tired Red Hodd breaks into their latest interests apartment for the umpteenth time that month only to find Reader wide awake. Don't ask why he was breaking in thinking they were sleeping though. Now he has to find away to pry Reader away from their lap top and make them sleep. Maybe it'll be angsty? Anyone? Helloooooooooo

[imagine-darksiders]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart. - Chapter 22 - Imagine_Darksiders - Darksiders (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]

[throws this to the masses and retreats back into my bolthole]

[spearsillustration]

°[Time For Rest]°

Notes - Alright guys this deserved more time and effort put into it. The last one was mapping out some ideas so that I could work on this finished masterpiece for you all. I put so much work into my Richtofen oneshots and wanted to match that energy for Dempsey. Now I hope you enjoy. <3

word count - 4,151

Page number - 11.7

------

      The fading glow of the sun had already vanished by the time we found ourselves standing in the cold, imposing Der Eisendrache facility. The mountains stretched far below us, their peaks dusted with snow, bathed in the pale light of the moon. The air was crisp, sharp enough to bite at the skin, but I hardly noticed. My mind was focused on the view, a rare and fleeting sight that had a strange way of putting things into perspective.

        I stood there for a moment, taking it all in, the vastness of the landscape spreading out before me. There was something almost peaceful about it, despite everything we’d been through. Tank, as usual, was silent for a while, but I could feel his presence just behind me. After a moment, he broke away from his own thoughts and walked over to my side, his heavy boots crunching in the snow. Together, we took in the sight, side by side, while the others had already gone inside, eager to begin whatever mission lay ahead.

        We didn’t need to say anything; the silence between us was comfortable as if we understood the weight of it all in the same way. There was something strangely calming about sharing this pause from the chaos, a small reprieve from the endless battles and uncertainty. In that moment, I allowed myself to appreciate the simple beauty of it all, the mountains, the night sky, and even the cold that nipped at my face. It was a rare thing for us to have a moment like this, a brief, peaceful break that seemed almost too perfect. It was almost frightening how peaceful. 

        But as with all good things, silence never lasts. It never truly does. Something was bound to break it. The winds picked up slightly, whistling through the cracks of the facility's structure, and with it came the familiar hum of tension, always hanging just below the surface. Tank shifted beside me, glancing at me for a moment, his usual gruffness fading just a touch.

        “You know,” he said, breaking the silence in his typical deep, gravelly voice, “I can’t remember the last time we had a chance to just stop. For even a minute.”

        I nodded, feeling the weight of his words. It was true; in this life, moments like this were rare. We both knew that. It wasn’t long before our quiet break would end, and we’d be pulled back into the chaos that always followed us. But for now, this silence was all we had. And just like that, the moment was broken, but it was enough. Enough to remind us that, for a brief second, we weren’t fighting. We were just... human.

        “How are you holding up?” Tank’s voice broke the quiet, low and steady as usual. He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them from the biting cold, his breath visible in the air as he exhaled. The movement was almost automatic, but his eyes never left me as he awaited my answer, his gaze unwavering and curious.

        I blinked, taken aback by the question. It came out of nowhere, unexpected, almost out of character for him. Tank wasn’t the type to ask about feelings or how people were coping. He was the kind of guy who focused on action, the one who’d lead the charge or cover your back without hesitation. But now, standing there in the shadow of this desolate facility, the question hung in the air like a fragile thread.

        I wasn’t sure how to respond at first. I’d grown used to burying my thoughts and putting on a strong face, especially when things got tough. But Tank’s question wasn’t something I could just brush off. Maybe it was the calm of the moment, or maybe it was just the weight of everything we’d been through recently, but for once, I felt the need to be honest, even if just a little.

        I rubbed the back of my neck, shifting on my feet as I thought for a moment. “I’m… I’m making it,” I said, my voice carrying the weight of every battle we’d faced, the exhaustion creeping into my tone despite my attempt to sound casual.

        It was an answer that barely scratched the surface, but it was all I could manage. I didn’t have the energy to explain all the ways I felt worn down or how each day seemed like it was adding another layer of pressure. Not to mention, I wasn’t sure Tank would understand the full weight of it on me.

        But Tank wasn’t like the others. I could see it in his eyes, a flicker of something behind his usual stoic expression. He was waiting for more, maybe trying to make sure I wasn’t just brushing it off. It wasn’t just a casual “how are you” from him—it was something deeper. He wanted to know.

        He shifted slightly, his broad shoulders rising as he inhaled sharply, and I could see the way the tension in his body seemed to settle. “Yeah… I get that,” he murmured, his voice softer now, quieter, as if sharing in that unspoken understanding. He wasn’t pressing me for more; he wasn’t the type to push. But I could tell he was feeling the same strain, the same weight we all carried, even if we didn’t always talk about it.

        The cold air seemed to press in around us, but there was something about that moment, that unexpected question, that made everything feel a little less heavy. Maybe it was the fact that for once, someone was asking how I was doing—really doing. And maybe, just maybe, it was the simple recognition that we were all in this together, even if we didn’t always say it out loud.

        For a brief moment, I realized how much that small gesture of care meant. Tank might not have been the most vocal about his feelings, but in his own way, he cared. And that was enough for me to say, “I’m doing alright. A little tired, but... alright.”

        He nodded as if he had expected that answer, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “That’s good. Just remember, we’re all in this together."

        And for the first time in a long while, I believed him.

        I let out a tired sigh, the weight of the day pressing down on my shoulders. I turned to look at Tank, trying to find some comfort in his usual steady presence. "How about you?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended. It felt strange to ask him about his well-being; after all, we rarely checked in on each other like this.

        Tank’s response came with a grunt, a sound that seemed to convey everything and nothing at the same time. He leaned back against the wall next to me, the sound of his boots scraping lightly against the stone as he settled into the position. His eyes shifted to the horizon, deep in thought, probably weighing how to answer. It was almost like he wasn’t expecting me to ask him, like the question had thrown him off balance for a second. He’d always been the one to keep things close to the chest, never one to share much about himself, so it was strange to see him hesitate.

        He cleared his throat before he spoke, his voice gruff but measured, as always. "I’m fine, a bit cold but I’ll manage." The words were typical Tank—straightforward, no-nonsense. But there was something about the way he said it, something in his tone, that made me wonder if it wasn’t the whole story. Then again, with everything that had happened recently, I figured we all had our own ways of handling things.

        Tank shifted again, and with a practiced motion, he reached into the inside pocket of his worn jacket. His fingers brushed against something hidden within the folds of the fabric before he pulled out a small flask. The metal gleamed faintly in the dim light of the moon, and I recognized it immediately—the kind of flask you only bring out when you need something to take the edge off. He unscrewed the cap with a quick twist and took a long swig, the movement deliberate but still slightly rough around the edges, like everything with him.

        As he lowered the flask, he exhaled deeply, a quiet sound escaping him as if the warmth from whatever was inside had spread through his chest. I glanced over at him, and for the first time in a while, I saw a flicker of something more vulnerable in his eyes—maybe it was the cold, maybe it was the weight of everything catching up to him, but it was there, just beneath the surface.

        "You know," Tank began again, his voice softer now, "Sometimes, I think about how we’ve been doing this for so long. Fighting, surviving, pushing through… it gets hard to keep track of who we are sometimes." His eyes lingered on the flask for a moment before he looked up at me, his gaze steady but not as distant as usual.

        I didn’t say anything right away. Part of me wanted to offer some reassurance or say something profound, but the truth was, I wasn’t sure how to respond. We’d been through so much, and seen so much, that words didn’t always do the trick anymore. There were days when it felt like the fight would never end, and you started to wonder if you even remembered what it was like before all the chaos began.

        Tank seemed to sense my hesitation. "Anyway," he said, clearing his throat again as if to shake off the moment. "I’ll be alright. Just got to keep moving, right?" His usual gruffness returned, but there was an underlying weariness in his tone that hadn’t been there before.

        I nodded, acknowledging his words, but inside I wasn’t sure if either of us was truly alright. We were all just… coping. And that was enough, at least for now.

        As Tank took another swig from the flask, I couldn’t help but think that, despite all our tough exteriors and the endless fight, there were moments—rare, fragile moments—where we let our guard down, even if just a little. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what kept us going.

        We didn’t need to say anything more; the silence that followed was comfortable in its own way. But as we stood there, side by side, I couldn’t help but feel like this, however brief, was one of the most honest moments we’d shared in a while.

        "Care for a drink?" Tank’s voice was low, but there was a weak smile on his face as he raised the flask in my direction, the cold metal glinting in the moonlight.

        I hesitated for only a moment before nodding, accepting the offer. "Thanks," I murmured softly as I reached for it. My fingers brushed against the cool surface of the flask, and I unscrewed the cap with a practiced twist, tilting it back for a long, hearty gulp. The warmth of the liquid spread quickly through my chest, offering a brief but welcome respite from the biting chill of the night air. I handed it back to him with a quiet exhale, the taste of the drink lingering on my lips.

        Tank took the flask from me and, without missing a beat, tucked it back into his jacket pocket. He looked at me, his smile spreading a little wider as he chuckled, a low sound that vibrated in his chest. "Wow, you can really hold your liquor," he said with a teasing tone. "I like that in a woman."

        I raised an eyebrow, the playful spark in his voice evident. As he glanced at me, I could feel his gaze drifting over my body, lingering in that way only Tank could manage, effortlessly flirtatious, yet never truly serious. His words hung in the air between us, a mix of humor and something else—maybe admiration, maybe just an attempt to lighten the mood.

        “Wow,” I said, turning my head just slightly to meet his gaze, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “You really know how to charm a girl, huh?”

        My tone was teasing, but I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. Still, I kept my eyes on the vast landscape before us, the peaks of the mountains etched against the dark sky. It was almost like I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of full attention, letting the playful banter hang in the air between us instead of dwelling on it too much.

        Tank’s chuckle rumbled again, a deep sound that felt oddly comforting. "Well, I’ve been told I have a way with the ladies." His eyes remained fixed on me for a moment longer, a slight glint in them, before he finally looked back up at the horizon.

        "Beautiful sight, ain't it, doll?" Tank’s voice was soft, almost reverent, as he gazed out at the sprawling skyline below us. The mountains, the distant lights from the far-off town, and the sky painted in hues of deep purple and midnight blue—all of it seemed to stretch on forever. For a moment, it felt like everything had slowed, like we were the only two people in the world, just taking it all in.

        I let out a breath, my chest rising as I took in the view as well. "Nicest one I've seen in a while," I answered, my voice quieter than usual, almost in awe. It felt strange to be in this peaceful space, so far from the chaos we were used to, and even stranger to acknowledge how much I needed this quiet moment. The weight of the world, the endless fights and the constant tension, faded just a bit as I let my gaze wander across the landscape.

        He took a noticeable pause, his lips pressing together for a moment as if weighing the weight of what he wanted to say next. When he finally spoke, his voice had a quieter, almost detached tone. "Yeah, sure," he said, his words not matching the intensity of the view before us. It was as though he had started to say more but then decided against it, opting for the easy answer instead.

        I glanced over at him, noting the slight shift in his expression, the almost imperceptible way his eyes flickered toward me for just a second before returning to the horizon. There was something in his tone that felt incomplete, as if he was holding back, reluctant to let his guard down completely. It wasn’t like Tank to be so reserved, especially when we were usually able to share a few sarcastic words or make light of the situation. But tonight was different. We both knew it.

        "You know," I began, breaking the silence just a bit, "sometimes it feels like we don’t get to see sights like this enough. Like we're too busy with the fight to even notice what's around us."

        "Yeah, I get that," he muttered, his voice quieter than usual. "But there’s always something else to focus on. Something that needs doing."

        I nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. We couldn’t afford to be distracted for too long. But in that moment, with the mountains stretched out before us and the quiet stretching on, I couldn’t help but feel that maybe we all needed more of these moments—times when we could just stand still, breathe, and appreciate the world beyond the fight.

        I was pretty tired—more tired than I cared to admit—and it was starting to show. My movements were sluggish, slower than normal, and every step felt like it took more effort than the last. I had the first watch tonight, but it felt like I hadn’t slept in days, maybe even longer. My mind was foggy, my eyes heavy, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had a full night’s rest. The constant adrenaline, the endless pressure of the mission, and the constant vigilance had worn me down, and now, it was catching up to me.

        I stumbled slightly, my foot catching on a loose stone beneath me, and for a moment, I felt like the world tilted. It wasn’t much—just a little trip—but it was enough to make me realize how exhausted I really was. My body felt like it was running on fumes, and the exhaustion in my muscles was deep, the kind of weariness you couldn’t just push through. I reached out instinctively, leaning back against the cold, hard wall of the facility to steady myself. 

         "Woah, woah, woah, you okay?" His voice was low but concerned, the usual edge of his tone softened with something that I couldn’t quite place.

        Before I could even respond, he reached over and grabbed my arm gently, steadying me to keep from stumbling again. His touch was firm but careful, like he wasn’t sure how much weight I could bear. He placed his hand on my shoulder, giving me a reassuring grip, and for a second, I felt like I could lean into it. The small act was enough to make me realize just how much I was running on empty. I could’ve collapsed right there, but Tank’s steady presence helped keep me grounded.

        "You good?" he asked again, his voice softer now, his brow furrowing in a mix of concern and something else—maybe frustration at seeing me like this. It wasn’t like him to show much concern, not outwardly, but there was no mistaking the way his hand remained steady on my shoulder, like he wasn’t going to let me fall, not for a second.

        I tried to push myself up, to shake off the weight of exhaustion and keep it together. "Yeah, just… tired," I muttered, my voice quieter than usual. I didn’t want to admit how badly I was feeling, but the words slipped out anyway, barely a whisper. The truth was, I was barely holding it together.

        Tank’s expression softened, but only for a moment. He could tell I wasn’t okay, and despite the usual tough exterior, I knew he wasn’t going to let me push through this on my own. "You need a break," he said, his words blunt as always. "You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. We’ve got a lot ahead of us, but you won’t make it if you’re running on empty."

        His words were simple, but they hit harder than I expected. I opened my mouth to argue, to tell him I was fine, but I couldn’t find the energy to form the words. He was right. I hadn’t been sleeping. I hadn’t been taking care of myself. And it was starting to show in every move I made, every step I took.

        Tank let out a deep sigh, his hand still resting on my shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. "You need rest, no shame in that," he said, his tone a little more relaxed but still carrying the weight of his concern. "We’re all in this together, but you can’t do it if you’re this worn down. I’ll take over for you. Go get some sleep."

        "Have you slept at all recently?" His voice was heavy with concern, as his eyes searched mine. He wasn't buying my attempt to brush it off.

        "I'm fine," I muttered, feeling the fatigue in my bones more than I cared to admit. I tried to stand tall, but my body betrayed me, swaying just slightly. I could feel his gaze on me, his suspicion building.

        His eyes narrowed, and his stance stiffened. "Don’t give me that bullshit, you just stumbled." His voice had a bite to it now, laced with frustration, and his arms stayed firmly on my shoulders, like a constant reminder that I wasn’t fooling him.

        "Answer my question," he said again, his voice softer but still insistent. "Have you slept at all?"

        I sighed, letting my shoulders droop, feeling the weight of the question. "I’ve just had trouble sleeping recently," I said, the words sounding hollow even to me. "But I’m on watch right now. I can rest later." The words were meant to dismiss his concern, but I knew it wasn't working.

        He didn’t say anything right away. He just shook his head slowly, disappointment flashing across his face. "No," he finally spoke, his tone firm. "You need to get some rest. I’ll take over the watch, don’t worry about it."

        His words hit me harder than I expected. I opened my mouth to protest, but he beat me to it, his hand moving from my shoulder to my lower back, guiding me forward gently. There was no argument in his touch, no hesitation. It was as if he had made up his mind, and that was that.

        "You don’t need to do that," I said, though my voice was weaker now. "I’m fine." But even as I said the words, I knew it wasn’t true. I was far from fine. The exhaustion was shown in every step I took.

        He chuckled softly, the sound low and amused. I heard a teasing edge in his voice. "Oh, now you don’t get a say in this, doll. You’re going to get some sleep whether you like it or not."

        The smirk on his lips made it clear he wasn’t going to let me win this one. He continued to lead me through the facility, his presence a constant anchor as I followed, knowing there was no point in resisting. He wasn’t going to change his mind.

        We reached a quiet corner, one that was surprisingly warm, a bit of comfort amidst the otherwise cold surroundings. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for now.

        "Now sit down," he said, his voice taking on a gentle, almost commanding tone. There was no room for negotiation, but somehow, it didn’t feel like an order. It felt like he was taking care of me in the only way he knew how.

        I looked at the small cot in front of me, a weary sigh escaping my lips. "Fine, but only for a little bit," I said, my words trailing off into a yawn that I couldn’t suppress.

        He rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah, sure, 'only for a little bit.'" He pushed me lightly toward the cot, his grip on my arm just enough to guide me down onto the small bed.

        I settled onto the cot, the exhaustion in my limbs finally catching up with me as I lay down, my body sinking into the small amount of comfort it offered. But before I could fully close my eyes, he was there, standing beside me with that ever-present smile on his face. He took off his jacket and, without a word, draped it over me like a makeshift blanket.

        The warmth of the jacket enveloped me instantly, and I couldn't help but feel a flush spread across my cheeks. It smelled like him—like the cool air outside, the earth, and a faint trace of something that was uniquely his. I felt a tinge of embarrassment at how the simple gesture affected me, my heart skipping a beat.

        "Here," he said, his voice soft but firm. "Now, I want you to actually try and get some sleep."

        I blinked up at him, still feeling the heat in my cheeks as I tried to speak. "Don’t you need this? It’s cold out there..." My words faltered slightly, a mixture of concern and something else—something warmer that I wasn’t quite ready to admit.

        He looked at me, his eyes softening, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he adjusted the jacket around me. "Nah, I'll be fine," he said, pausing for a moment as he studied me. His expression softened even more, his voice dropping into a gentler tone. "Just worry about yourself. Now get some sleep, alright? I'll be right out here if you need me, doll."

        His words felt like a shield, something comforting and solid in the midst of the chaos. The weight of the jacket, the warmth of his presence, and the soft command to rest wrapped around me like a cocoon. I closed my eyes, finally allowing myself to relax, my body sinking deeper into the cot as the fatigue caught up with me. His quiet assurance, his gentle care—it was enough to let go, just for a little while.

[deargaz]

i do usually stick with the idea that simon’s got some insane stamina and can go for multiple rounds but something about simon being spent after one round is just so hilarious to me.

in his defense, your tight cunt’s, well, too greedy — sucking his poor cock into her until he’s all drained out and just laying limp on the bed, trying to catch his breath, fearing for his life too maybe.

“you’re tired?” you asked, the genuine innocence in your voice making him grumble, his hand gesturing you on top of him. not your fault, anyone would assume this big guy’s got more in his store.

“not really been doin’ all this before meetin’ you, love. don’t have the time in my job.” he panted softly, calloused hands gripping your hips as you settled on top of him.

“but you have time for me?” you smiled. his heart skipped a beat, and in that moment, he had decided that if he’d die like this, this was the best way.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”

[nanamiskentos]

﹙ 五条 悟 : gojo satoru ﹚

"you’re too young to be groaning like that," you tease as gojo flops onto the bed face-down, exhaling sharply.

"shut up," he mutters, voice muffled against the pillow. "i think my back just gave out."

you roll your eyes, settling beside him. his body is warm beneath your hands, muscles tense from who knows how many fights he got into today. gently, you press your thumbs into his shoulders, working out the knots.

"damn," he exhales after a beat, his usual cocky edge replaced with something softer.

"that good?"

"i might actually marry you if you keep doing this."

you snort. classic satoru. but you keep going, pressing deeper into his back. his breathing slows, and his body finally unwinds beneath your touch.

after a moment, he sighs. "you know, if i’m this messed up now, imagine how we’ll be when we’re actually old."

"you’re acting like you’re eighty."

"feels like it." he turns his head to glance at you. there’s something easy, something fond in his gaze.

"guess i’ll just have to take care of you forever, then."

for once, he doesn’t have a comeback. just a small smile — one that lingers even as the white-haired man drifts off to sleep under your touch.

[harmonysanreads]

Thinking about hand-kisses, actually.

Aventurine would like to believe he's flighty enough to not make it obvious, which he is to an interesting degree — that the pulse at the juncture of your wrist soothes his soul. To him, nothing else is more intimate. For, through this, he cherishes the very symbol of your existence. By acknowledging that rhythm, he's blessed.

Sunday's lips always linger when he kisses your hand. His fingers flex in uncertainty, strength waning and waxing before the struggle — to grasp or, to cherish? To hold, or constrict? Alas, the anticipation of decorum always leaves these questions to perpetual vacillation.

Dr Ratio inclines to kiss the crater of your palm, burrowing as deep as the lines would allow. He huffs as if its an inconvenience — perhaps, bearing the weight of such adoration is an inconvenience, even for a brilliant scholar. You wouldn't know though, that his apparent fixation with your palm is but an excuse to hide the blood that rushes to his cheeks whenever he concedes before your altar.

Mr Reca always makes a show out of it. A kiss to your pinky, another barely touching the tip of your fingernail, a teasing whisper over your knuckles. Close, but never enough. Just when you're drunk and sunk in his ploys, will he strike.

Mydei leans towards your hand just the same, but the expected kiss is always replaced with a nip, or a bite to your wrist or finger. The dumbfounded blinks, flustered fluttering of your lashes and indignant protests are far too delightful to not exploit.

Phainon, ever so graceful, is a mess in the palms of your hands. His lips cannot settle for one spot, he must kiss every fingertip, every knuckle, every phantom of a vein and every crease that marks your being. It's a waste holding back, his salvation is in embracing the fall.

Anaxa who bows before none, always kneels first before kissing your hand. It does not matter when or where, he will always lower himself to one knee and peer up at your radiance. His prayers are never verbal, but his gaze is parched enough to appeal to your heart and grant him his solace every time. But, would you still remain so merciful, if you knew the unrelenting pace of his greed?

[theorphicangel]

cat kuna who sits in your suitcase when you're packing for a trip. he's stubborn and he won't move.

he's not...sad. just a little distraught that you're leaving and you didn't tell him in advance. (you did tell him but he was too busy scoffing down that tuna fish to listen to you)

your eyes meet his little red ones and by the rapid movements of his tail you can tell that he's getting a little agitated. your maine coon takes half of your suitcase space and every time you try and place your clothes down he either hisses or attempts to swat at you.

'i'm just leaving for a day or two kuna. nothing more, nothing less.'

'meow.'

'don't give me that attitude, someone will be looking after you.'

silence hits the room. sukuna's tail stops.

'yes, it's gojo. our neighbour who pays for your vet check ups and your monthly food bill from that expensive, luxury cat food company, be grateful.'

grateful? grateful his ass. he'd rather eat nothing but dry corn than eat another dish paid by your neighbour who always loves to come over for a quick chat. and best believe sukuna has given him all the scratches and bites in the world but that white haired freak keeps coming back.

like fleas.

'kuna if you're going to act this way I might as well not even go. you're being a pain in the ass and you know it....'

he gives no response, deciding to lick at his paw whilst remaining in your suitcase.

'but I guess that's what you want huh.'

[luvie-42]

The smut when other people write it:

The smut when I write it:

Like I think I can do it but then it come out like “they kiss thwop fwop make out” 😭🔫

[synthe4u]

masterlist

A wave of nausea hit you, sending you reeling back from your papers. You grasped your stomach, willing the pain to go away. There was a deadline set for this work and of course you being you had to wait last minute to finish.

You glimpsed at the time, 1:03am, the paper was due at 6:00am and you were hoping to get some sleep before then.

A knock sounded before the door opened, "Hey love, you okay?"

It was your husband, John. You had forgotten he came back from a mission two days ago. You've just been too busy with work.

"I'm alright."

"You sure?"

He raised an eyebrow at you. Maybe it was the way you were hunched over or the papers scrawled all over the office desk. Or the time...Time.

You had to finish this paper now. For both your mental and physical well-being, but none of it was making any sense.

The words started to jumble on the pages.

You didn't know when, but John came back with a plated sandwich.

"It's not much, but you haven't any yet."

You mumbled a thanks before going back to writing. Your lover watched over you, waiting for you to pick up and eat the sandwich he made.

"Gonna eat, love?"

"Yeah, yeah," you mumbled, too focused on thinking of what to write. So focused that you didn't realize when John started tapping his arm in impatience.

It was only when he stood right behind you with his hand on your wrist, pulling your arm away from what needed to be done.

"You need some sleep."

"But I have to finish this!"

He grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the desk and chair. You wouldn't fight him. You didn't have the strength to do so because you were too tired.

He laid both of you down, wrapping an arm around you.

"Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight," you laid awake with your eyes wide open. Your thoughts were too big for your head and it felt like you needed rest, but you couldn't.

"I didn't eat the sandwich you made me."

"Huh?" He was confused by your statement.

You repeated yourself, "I didn't eat the sandwich you made me."

You could imagine him closing his eyes again while he spoke, "You can eat it in the morning."

A moment passed before he sighed and pulled you closer into his arms. The married couple snuggled together for both warmth, love, and comfort. They understood one another and that was all that mattered between them.

Sometimes moments of comfort like this makes one want to dream.

[simonbrain]

sitting at the bar with your bestie and jokingly saying, "i wish that was me," when she spews about how her man made her come so many times the other night they almost hit double digits. you doubt anyone is paying attention to the two of you gossiping and giggling like fools, and you share that you haven't been laid in a while.

"it's been eight months, actually." you pout, slapping her arm when she gawks and splutters something about finding you someone to shag in the back alley right away.

if only you noticed the guy with the fuckass mohawk sitting on the other side of you, intently eavesdropping on your personal conversation. he likes your friend's idea; surely you'll let him pull a few orgasms out of you outside before he fingerbangs you in the car on the way home and finally finishes you in his bed.

ten's a big number to aim for, but johnny's nothing if not utterly determined to ruin the pretty girl who's had him rock hard since she walked in.

[moechies]

oh please more bunny reader and toji they’re so cutesy. maybeeeee reader has really sensitive tail/ears and toji really takes advantage of that?

tamer! toji who’s the roughest with his little client bunny. well, your previous owner is to blame. he claims that you’re the pickiest, messiest, neediest bunny that needs to be put in her place ; with none other but a little bit of force.

tamer! toji who doesn’t really like rodents , but he assumes he could make an exception for you; since you’re cute and fluffy. just this once though , bunny !

tamer! toji who doesn’t let your brat antics slip past him, and makes sure that you know your place at the end of the day. he can’t let your owners tedious cash payment go to waste !

“d-don’t touch my ears !” you whine, soft sobs spilling from your pouty lips. the man has both your ears in a strong, unforgiving grip, looking to teach you a lesson for sneaking into his washroom for a peek.

the thin, white towel he has around his waist hangs dangerously low and not to mention, loose, and your wandering eyes can’t help but notice the fat chub that shows through the fabric.

“fuckin’ perverted bunny. ya need a whoopin’ to learn yer place ?” he sneers, lowering his face to face yours. you paw at his hand, thumb slipping against his burly fingers, “hn— no— it hurts ! w-was an accident , swear ! i got lost !”

toji can’t help but grin at your limpid lies; he can see right through you, little bunny.

y’r gonna learn not to lie t’me ever again tonight, bunny.”

tamer! toji who carries you towards his bed as you writhe in his grip, ignoring your little mewls and complaints about your sensitive ears as you rub incessantly at the sore flesh.

tamer! toji who bends you over in the grossest arch against his towel-clad lap, feeling his warm skin against yours as the towels knot grows weaker and threatens to slip. he tugs off your soft shorts, revealing that soft, chubby bunny butt.

tamer! toji who’s surprised when he sees how fluffy your little cottontail is, twitching nervously under his gaze.

tamer! toji who even more surprised when he takes a sneak peek at your bunny cunt , just to see how slicked up your chubby folds are, soft hole throbbing with your carnal needs. what a pervert.

“no ! d-don’t look there !” you squeal, frantic paws attempting to scurry away from the man’s grasp.

his hand comes down unexpectedly with a hard smack across your ass, the soft flesh growing raw to the touch. your throat elicits a small gasp of shock, falling pliant against the man’s lap. you’re quick to burst into tears, even if you don’t want to; but it truly hurts so bad!

“bad bunnies need t’learn.” toji coos, kneading at the raw skin. it makes you flinch against his touch. “bad, perverted bunnies.” he whispers against your soft ears, making them twitch.

he tugs at the soft tuft of your cottontail, exposing your puckered asshole soft to the touch.

“n-no!” your tail twitches against his hold, shaky hand coming behind to cover yourself.

“hey.” he spits, a rough hand grappling at the chub of your ass almost like a threat, “y’think y’r in any place to tell me no right now ?”

his hand slaps down against your plush ass once again, the sting inevitable as he holds you firmly. your hands ball into fists that shoot up to your eyes, furiously wiping away at your newfound tears, soft hiccups that accompany your cries.

“that’s it, y’r learning.” you submit helplessly below him, watching intently at your softened ears pliant against the cushion. “y’know what you need to do?”

“m—m sorry. ‘m sorry mister…!” you burst into tears once again, little toe pads curled up into ‘c’s in a fear of feeling his punishing hand on the hot burn of your ass yet again. you don’t know if he’d punish you for your loud cries yet, but you simply can’t hold back. he’s breaking your little bunny heart.

“oh..” he sighs, he feels a tad bit bad; he supposes. he watches as your forearm slaps across your face to hide your expression, your other hand in an attempt to protect your burning cheek. “hey.”

you peek up at him with a tiny stare, hiccups still reverberating through your body causing you to bounce against his lap. you ignore the fat chub that pokes at the side of your tummy, flaunting shamelessly through the fabric of toji’s pants.

“come to this room t’ night after yer duties. y’took yer punishment well.” toji grimes, and he adores the way your eyes light up like diamonds. his friend down below seems to adore it just as much as he does, too.

tamer! toji who sees you peek in half of your head at the designated time that he asked you to come, nervously treading along the glazed floors with a glint of fear that he’ll continue his punishment.

don’t think of him so lowly, bunny. he really isn’t that mean!

tamer! toji who takes care of you that night; after a bit of coercing and getting you on your tummy, ripping your frilly panties from your bruised butt and pressing in a thick plug. he thinks the pink diamond is terribly gorgeous in contrast to your soft tail, twitching with pain at the unfamiliar feeling.

tamer! toji who preps you briefly, leaning down to block your view of his hefty fingers slipping in between your chubby folds. “s—sir!” it’s not like you don’t feel it, but he loves to make a little face at you that makes you look crazy!

tamer! toji who fucks you brutally against his soft matress that night, relentlessly humping into the depths of your gushy cunt. he can’t get enough, truly. you’re one damn bunny.

he watches you skillfully, the little plug snug in your ass squeezing against his cock from the inside. he feels the hard metal that bulges from the other side of your soft walls, grunting at the tightness.

tamer! toji who can’t help but cum fat loads in your cunt when he hears your little cries, sweet yelps for your ‘mister’ to come and save you. it’s even better when they slowly grow to cute moans and pleads to cum all over. don’t worry, bunny. your new mister will be sure to tug at your cottontail and rub your clit, just to ensure his bunny a good time.

[tojisun]

something something the squad blindfolding you for that typical sex game that is popular right now which is: they’ll fuck you and you have to guess which cock is whose, and they’ll only stop when you finally get all four of them right.

you thought it was going to be easy—you’re all so familiar with each other’s bodies, both because of missions but also because of the way you all paw at each other, trying to smother the nightmares through sex, but then they’re fucking you in the dark and you can’t glean who it is.

not just because you’re blindfolded, but you’re also bound to deter you from cheating. and the pleasure is also just too much that you don’t have the ability to feel every different ridge or curl of their cocks or how the bulbed head feels different—johnny’s the only one cut between all of them, and even then you don’t know which one is his.

you’re crying by the end of it, exhausted and spent, but another cock is fucking into you, and then john’s voice croons from somewhere behind you, “c’mon pretty bird. we don’t have all night.”

the game continues on or something something.

[humanjarvis]

saw this today and my immediate answer was “both, but in different ways” and then my updated answer a few seconds later was that it’s everyone EXCEPT zayne. so here are my personal headcanons/reasonings (specifically the "you’re so pathetic"/"i’m so pathetic" part):

caleb: says it and means it. yeah this is literally all i have for him take any objections up with the therapist he doesn’t have

sylus: says it ironically. a nonchalant hum of agreement and slight air of condescension in his tone. you both know he doesn’t mean it—you both know you don’t even mean it—but he’ll let you have your fun. go along with your games, as long as they stay games (i don’t think sylus is into degradation), and entertain the idea of him being anything less than formidable. a means to an end to get you to leave your mark on him

xavier: says it in the same tone as caleb, but with the same intention as sylus. his voice is shaky and sincere as he stares up at you with his big blue eyes, but underneath the exterior is a man who knows what he wants and knows how to get it. he’s luring you in with the innocent pitiful bunny act, but he doesn’t believe it. he’s just giving you what you want so you give him what he wants

rafayel: moans it. in the moment, he doesn’t know if he means it or not—he’s just so gone and horny that he’ll say/agree to anything as long as it gets you to touch him. and then once the haze of lust has cleared he denies saying anything of the sort

zayne: doesn’t believe in degradation of the self for momentarily pleasurable but ultimately trivial matters

[ineedmantitties]

"you only find sukuna attractive because he's in yuji's bod-"

LIEEEEESSSS

HAVE YALL SEEN THIS MAN?????

HIS TRUE FORM IS ONE OF THE YUMMEST, HOTTEST THINGS I'VE SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE, FOUR ARMS, TWO MOUTHS, TWO COCKS, 7 FEET OF PURE MUSCLE, HIS LETHAL FACE CARD AND YOU COME HERE AND HAVE THE AUDACITY TO TELL ME I ONLY FIND HIM ATTRACTIVE BECAUSE HE'S IN YUJI'S BODY???

PUH-LEASE I'M A TOTAL FREAK FOR THIS MAN, PUT ME AND HIM IN A ROOM TOGETHER AND ONE OF US IS COMING OUT PREGNANT AND IT AINT GONNA BE MEE

HE'S NOT A HEAR ME OUT, HE'S A HOLD ME BACK!!!!!