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chryzure-archive · 1 year

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death and its afterlife

ALT TITLE: (what purpose is there?)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: late chrysiarchie anniversary fic,,, i’m only a couple days late, right?

———

Though Ophelia herself had not informed Chrysi of her inkling, Chrysi knew enough from the whispers of Ophelia diving through a mirror to know that awaiting Archibald’s arrival would be the best course of action. If he returned—when he returned—he would require attention. Injured as he may be, and with the shock of being cut off from the Web (she had to huff out a sigh and wipe her palms on her skirts as her throat closed at the reminder), the Pole’s Ambassador would need an immediate carting to the infirmary.

And so Chrysi paced, rather uselessly, the barren, grey stretch of Archibald’s room. Every so often, with her thumbnail between her teeth, Chrysi would cast a worried look to his iron-wrought bed, simultaneously praying that his messy-haired form would appear under the sheets, and that it would remain empty of his pale-faced, limp body.

The waiting, she surmised, was the greatest hell.

“Miss Chrysi,” a voice called from the entrance.

She paused in her pacing to flash a frown at Patience—the eldest of Archibald’s seven sisters, and one of the key people in deciding to cut him from the Web. It was a hard decision—one that had been forced by the upcoming Family States—but Chrysi still condemned his sisters for their choice. There had to be exceptions made. Surely there must be.

Patience lifted her chin, her eyes flashing as she detected Chrysi’s antipathy burning in her eyes.

Silence lingered uncomfortably thick, cold as the moisture freezing in the air outside. Her body weighed too heavy with her agitation.

“Yes?” she finally croaked, voice unused for too long in the midst of her pacing.

Patience cast an eye over the room, and her vision was now clear of whatever enchanted bleariness had overtaken Archibald. The golden gilt of the illusion in the antechamber made her fair hair glisten.

“If you would please,” she said in a voice ringing like a bell made of crystal, “vacate this room at the earliest opportunity.”

Chrysi froze.

No, her mind hissed.

Out loud, she opted for the much more polite, “Why?”

Her blood rushed too loudly in her ears to hear the exact note her voice had landed on, but the way Patience straightened told her it was a bit cruder than expected of Chrysi.

The line of Patience’s mouth grew harder. Her brows nearly touched the tattoo between her brows, making her all the more severe in the backlight.

Her eyes were clear.

Chrysi hated that most.

“We need to prepare for—”

She couldn’t bear to hear what it was the Web decided took precedence over Archibald—especially when it would be his own funeral. She blurted, “He’s going to return here. We need to be here when he does.”

The effervescent light in Patience’s winter-blue eyes died.

“My brother is dead,” she said flatly.

As if she had taken a hand to Chrysi’s face, Chrysi recoiled.

No, her mind hissed again—this time with teeth bared and hackles raised.

She said, “You don’t know that. You can’t know that.”

In fact, the one person that did was Ophelia.

Patience drew herself up—and in swift reply, her sisters drifted from their rooms down the long stretch of the hallway. They were quick to crowd in around the door at their sister’s agitation.

A united front, all seven fair-haired girls with the tattoo of the Web between their brows stared at her like a spider with one of its eyes poked out.

Archibald, supplied her mind. Their eighth eye—and the one they had poked out themselves.

With her sisters pulled tight around her, Patience replied, “He’s been steeped in the Web’s consciousness all his life. To be cut from it is the shock of a lifetime.” On cue, her breathing shuddered. Her eyelashes batted furiously.

Around her, her sisters pushed closer together. Their skirts looked as one. With the light shining from behind them, Chrysi couldn’t see the details of their faces. But in the remaining silhouette, her imagination created a many-limbed monster, worthy of a nightmare by her own hands.

Dulcie’s sweet voice overtook her eldest sister’s, finishing what Patience could not: “That final severing kills over half the time. Our brother is gone—we can no longer sense him.”

Her heart shuddered at the thought, hitting her rib cage hard enough to almost make her retch.

Her head swam. What sort of object impermanence was this? If Archibald returned, he would still hold form, still create thoughts and produce feelings and speak words.

“You were the ones to kill him,” she said before she could think of the consequences of her words.

The seven-eyed beast recoiled from her, but Chrysi felt no remorse. Rage gnawed at her from within instead, almost soothing in the face of her distress.

Their casual cutting of Archibald from them—their brother, the one to defend them after their parents’ death, the one that nurtured them—reminded her too much of a dark-haired woman with cold, dark eyes at another funeral that never should’ve taken place.

Crueler, reviled words urged at her tongue, but before she could rather unwisely utter them, a shift overtook the room.

Not a cold, breathless, unmissable sort of shift. Not a bolt of lightning, searing and bristling the tiny hairs along her arms on end. Nothing grand, showstopping, startling—but something unequivocal, all the same. Certain. Quiet.

A weak exhale behind her. Rustling of thin sheets. A new dreamscape, nudging at the edge of her awareness, as gifted by Morpheus.

There was a wide-eyed silence from the seven sisters in front of her.

Electrified, heart stumbling, Chrysi spun around her heel so quickly that she very nearly collapsed instead. The stiletto-thin prop of her heeled shoes wobbled in protest, but before it could properly snap, she crashed to her knees beside Archibald’s bed.

Atop those sheets, his heart-achingly familiar form sprawled, looking frightfully pale, his hair in disarray.

Hands shaking, Chrysi sought to assure herself of the reality of this situation. His face cradled in her hands, his body radiating heat where his blankets had been nothing but ice-cold before, the unmistakable solidity for that which Chrysi had already dreamt of before with a frustrating convincibility.

She almost didn’t want to believe it. It didn’t feel real.

But then his eyelashes fluttered weakly, his eyes moving under the delicate skin of his eyelids, and a cry built up in her chest. It choked her, until all she could do was let it out with tears beading in her eyes.

“Archie!”

His chest rose and fell, and his golden eyelashes fluttered again.

Just as quickly as relief filled her, a cold wash overcame her limbs.

The longer she held Archibald’s face in her hands, the more his skin scorched hers and the paler he looked.

Newly returned to her, he was but a boy made of paper and burning a flame within him. If left unattended, he would surely go up in smoke.

Her nails bit into his skin, despite herself. Her heart clambered into her throat.

She cast a wild look to his seven sisters, even as she clutched the insensible Archibald to her chest. The flame of his skin burned her, and Archibald let out a breathless gasp. Even his breath was too hot, too sickly.

“He’s burning up!” Panic threatened to beat her words into a frenzy. “He needs medical assistance!”

And quick—though she only had the weak pulls of his breath against her skin to go on, an innate part of her felt him slipping away.

She grit her teeth, shoving the power unordained of her Ark’s family spirit down, until it suffocated with the nightmares fashioned only of her Executions.

None of Archibald’s seven sisters moved. As she stared back at them, she realized their eyes had none of the summer-blue of Archibald’s—they were too cold for such a lighthearted color, by far.

A frisson of ice crept up her spine. Her hand left his cheek to slip her fingers against the pulse in his throat.

It struggled under her fingertips.

Chrysi’s mouth was far too dry, but still she said, “Call for a doctor.”

Her voice was small.

“A nurse,” she amended, when they didn’t move—voice smaller with the more inhuman they looked.

Still they stared at her with wide eyes. The teardrop tattoos were unblinking, accusatory.

“Anyone,” she concluded in a whisper.

Archibald’s breathing labored against her skin.

When his sisters finally broke their silence, it was Clarimond.

“Our brother is dead,” she said in a voice as clear as wind chimes.

“Gone,” agreed Relish, face white.

Grace added, “The shock…”

To finish it off, Patience lifted her head and peered down her nose at Chrysi, looking as though her frantic attempts to keep hold on the pale, limp Archibald were embarrassing to witness.

“And if the shock doesn’t kill him outright,” she whispered, with an unbearable, hateful sadness on her angelic face, “it is more humane to let him die quietly before he awakes as a husk.”

———

Chrysi supposed she would have to thank Archibald. If not for him to worry over, she would’ve caused a diplomatic incident far greater than that she had caused before her sister shipped her all the way to the Pole.

But that would have to come later. Much, much later—beyond the time he needed to burn off his fever and delirium. Beyond his waking. Beyond his aloneness.

Chrysi brushed his hair from his forehead, pensive. It burned to the touch still. The tattoo between his brows looked dull.

Sadness struck her, heavy and deep for him. She lowered her face to his, pressing her cool forehead to his too-hot one.

“Please don’t hate me,” she whispered to him. She nuzzled her nose against his, her heart tangling in her throat. “Please, please don’t hate me.”

For what, she didn’t know. For not letting him succumb to the shock? For not getting to him in time? Either way, she knew that it was easy to blame one after such a horrific incident. She was in the worst position as of now.

But she couldn’t tear herself away from him.

Archibald didn’t react, beyond a fever-weak exhale.

Still delirious. Chrysi didn’t know the ins and outs of illusions, but she imagined the prolonged contact with a Confusion Bubble didn’t help matters. Archibald was trapped for days in a faux-inebriated state, intoxicated with an illusion so deep that it sunk into his body. For a man with such a deep disdain for the Mirage illusions, it was the second-worst fate for him she could imagine—beyond being separated from his family.

She pulled away with a sad sigh. Perhaps all she was doing was smothering him, after all.

A weak tug on her blouse stopped her in her tracks. Her breath caught in her throat.

Dropping her eyes, she found his hand gripping her with as much strength his body could muster.

“Don’t leave me,” he breathed, eyes still closed.

Her heart surged into her rib cage. It knocked against it readily, cheered by his marginal lucidity, and bruised by the agony on his pale face.

“I would never—”

“Please,” he repeated, a sharp exhale. His brows knitted together. Anguish decorated his lovely face, until he looked like a sainted tragedy, sans stained glass. “Please, don’t leave me, even though I’m dead.”

Chrysi stopped.

“Archie,” she pleaded.

“I’m dead.” He stated it as a fact, in a breath barely heard. Something glinted in his closed eyelashes. “I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m” —he shuddered, and a tear slipped down his face— “dead.”

Leaning over him, Chrysi took his hands in hers and crushed them between their bodies. She could feel his pulse in his wrist, could feel it in his chest. She wished that she could make him feel the same proof of life that she felt pressed against her form.

“You’re not, Archie, I swear you’re not,” she assured him in a rush.

He laughed wretchedly. More tears spilled down his face, until his laugh shattered into a broken sob.

“I’m nothing but a ghost,” he said. “My family is gone. I can’t see myself.”

Chrysi shook her head. “I see you. I see you.”

But he turned his head away from her, and his hands stopped grasping at hers. They lay, useless, in her grip.

“I’m dead,” he repeated once more, and then said nothing else.

Chrysi hovered over him anxiously, staring at him with her heart pounding in her chest and an unquenchable desire to fix things.

But everything was too broken to put together.

And Archibald wept quietly as he fell back into sleep again.

———

When Archibald awoke proper, Chrysi was not in the room with him—and all for the better for it. His recollection of the past week was delirious, colored by fake memories and dreams so thick that he choked on them.

But he recalled the shameful display he’d put on for her just a few hours past his rescue.

Archibald didn’t allow his cheerful mask to crack—not even now, with the gaping, empty cavern he now found himself in. Not in front of anyone. For Chrysi to have seen him cry with such abandon…

It wasn’t the gentlemanly thing to do—especially not when Chrysi was the only reason his heart still beat—but he slipped from the infirmary before she returned anyway, under the pretense of putting the things to rights that had fallen apart in his absence.

Thorn, put on trial. Thorn’s little fiancée, aggrieved and combed over by the police, even when her testimonies were all buried in desk drawers. Archibald’s own funeral, mourned by the family of which he was no longer part of.

He had no time for Chrysi. He couldn’t spare a single minute for her.

Not when his own death suffocated him so.

It was the loneliness, he thought, that made it all so unbearable. The endless cacophony of his everyday life before was now an empty void. It was blackness. It was nothingness.

He fought as best he could, but the only true way to keep his head above the deep waters was to throw himself in the beds of women.

Fortunately, he had many favors he needed to obtain. It was quick work, with the double-pronged desire of obtaining them and to keep himself from sinking deep into his new singular existence.

Into the bed of Madam Nadia first, then Madam Anastasia, then Vera, Mila, Anya, Natasha—more and more and more, until he feared he might not escape the Gynaeceum unscathed.

It was a dangerous game, laying with Lord Farouk’s favorites, but perhaps Archibald didn’t care because it meant that Farouk might officially strike Archibald dead, rather than leave him trapped in this half-existence. He didn’t know. He tried not to linger too deep in his thoughts—he didn’t like the reminder that he would never peer from the eyes of Patience, Joy, Melody, Grace, Clarimond, Relish, or even little Dulcie, not to mention his aunts and uncles and second-cousins twice removed.

And so Archibald moved from bed to bed of woman to woman. He hadn’t yet returned to his barren room, for fear of its emptiness killing him on the spot.

It was reaching a point of absurdity. Nearly two weeks had passed, and he’d been in the Clairdelune embassy for a total of four hours.

Now, however, he couldn’t find any way to keep running from it.

Archibald kept his head bowed as he walked the long hallways of Clairdelune. Once, it had been deemed the safest place in the Pole. Now, because of his own foolishness, its crystal-clear reputation had been muddied.

He could not bear to look in anybody’s eyes.

The greetings that followed him were subdued and grew ever-quieter the closer he walked to his chambers. By the time he walked down the familiar hallway to his chambers, everyone had all but sewn their mouths shut.

Seven doors stood sentry in the walls—perhaps more, but Archibald only had eyes for them. They were familiar doors, in the way a knife lodged in the chest was familiar. Archibald had seen both sides of them times seven, from the eyes of all his sisters. He’d jealously protected them. They were all that mattered to him, in the end.

Now he was a walking, breathing corpse to them.

As he passed one door (Joy’s, he recalled sadly, but he’d never get to see from her cheerful vision ever again), it creaked open a fraction. Winter-blue eyes stopped on him, and the fair face there paled ever-fairer.

The door slammed shut.

Archibald tried not to flinch as though he’d been shot with a bullet.

His sisters were no longer his family. Ex-sisters, through and through—and they were making it very clear.

He’d never had his path avoid theirs so much. Not once, in his entire life.

He tried not to remember holding them after they had been born, an older brother thrilled by their tiny hands and their new eyes seeing more of the world in his stead.

Weariness nearly dragged him to the floor by the time he reached his own door. The nights spent with all of Farouk’s favorites had not lent to a restful sleep. The reminder of his new aloneness hadn’t helped matters.

But just as he was going to escape into his room, a voice stopped him.

“Mr. Ambassador,” the familiar steady voice called softly, “a moment, please?”

Archibald wanted to shatter into dust.

Out of all the people he’d frequented and called favors from, he’d avoided the Selenian Executioner for very good reason. For her to find him now…

He cursed silently in his head, though without much heat.

He didn’t turn when he replied, “Anything for you, Mademoiselle Executioner.”

He braced himself against the door, pressed his forehead hard against it. It still tingled with the Mirage’s Seal, back when he’d been trapped in the Imaginoir.

If that bothered Chrysi, it didn’t show in her voice. In fact, she seemed all the more resolute when she said, “I have a request of you.”

“I’m not sure how I can help,” he said tiredly. Without the backing of the Web, he’d lost much of influence over the Pole’s court. Only by his unending charm had he struggled to stay where he was.

When Chrysi didn’t say anything, he forced his shoulders back. He turned to her with a fragile smile that was attempting to be bright.

“But I shall attempt to assist in whatever way I can,” he concluded.

Chrysi stood not five feet away, looking pristine as a delicate vase. Her white curls had been swept up in a half-top knot, braided into it with precision. The remainder of her hair cascaded down her back. Her subdued-rose skirts did not have the full bell of a ball gown, but they were voluminous nonetheless. Her pale blouse clasped at her throat with a crescent moon, and her sleeves flowed until they were wrangled into a tight cuff that extended down the back of her hand. Delicate white lace gloves covered her fingers.

Archibald didn’t often—if ever—feel self-conscious about his appearance, but faced with the Executioner of Selene, he was all the more aware of the stubble prickling along his jaw, his bed-mussed hair, the darkness under his eyes.

Yet Chrysi didn’t seem to see any of that. She, instead, took a step forward, and said, “Please take care of yourself.”

He faltered. “I…”

But he had no words to say.

The request unmoored him.

Chrysi smiled sadly. “You’ve barely slept.”

Something strange stuttered in him then.

“No one else is asking this of you, and so I figured it may come down to me.” Chrysi shook out her hair, unknowing of Archibald’s inner turmoil. Her eyelashes tilted downward, as did her sweet mouth. “All eyes are on Ophelia, Thorn, Farouk—please let me have my eyes be on you, instead.”

He opened his mouth. He shut it.

What could he have to say? What was truthful? What had meaning?

Never had he been so stunned to silence.

“I… thank you,” he said slowly. “I shall take that into sincere consideration.” He leaned hard against his door, his hand fumbling for the handle. His heart clambered into his throat, higher and higher by the second.

He cracked it open without a second thought, and he took a short step backwards into his room.

Escape. He needed to… he needed to get out, before he lost his composure in the middle of the hallway, where he’d once lived his life with his many family members.

But Chrysi wasn’t leaving.

Archibald didn’t know how to handle the fact that she still wasn’t leaving—that she’d given him the blessing of her attention, her presence when he’d been abandoned by all else. Everyone else had—it was like the entire Pole knew that its ambassador wanted to hide from his mistake and all its hellish consequences, and the only ones that hadn’t left him only wanted him for his company in their sheets.

Archibald simply wished to be left alone to mourn his own death.

And Chrysi still wasn’t leaving.

He smiled at her with the barest thread of humor. Leaning heavily on his door, he inquired, “Is there anything else that I can help you with, Mademoiselle Executioner?”

Her mouth flipped into a deeper frown. Brows pulled together, she studied him.

Archibald resisted the urge to shudder. He knew he was one for transparency, but there was something about Chrysi’s eyes that saw much more than he allowed even his transparency to show. He didn’t quite like it.

Whatever she saw in him eased her frown, replacing it with something much softer, and that much more sadder.

“If ever you have the need for it, you can stay at my place,” she said softly. “Even if it’s unannounced.”

Archibald’s smile froze.

If ever he needed…

“I am the ambassador,” he replied mechanically. He felt his smile turn desperate, brittle. “I cannot leave the embassy for long.”

Chrysi didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. The way her eyes flickered over the hallway, over the elaborate illusions, over him said it all.

It punched him in the sternum, right below his heart.

For how much longer do you think they’ll keep you as ambassador?

He was no longer part of the Web. Instead, he drifted, unmoored, and everything in his head so deathly silent. Sometimes he couldn’t be certain of his own body, his own existence—so foreign it was to not see himself in the periphery of his sisters or his cousins or his aunts and uncles.

He’d become a ghost. And Farouk couldn’t keep a ghost as the ambassador for long.

“The offer stands until I return to Selene,” Chrysi informed him. With stiff fingers, she adjusted her perfect white lace gloves. Her eyes bored into him with their hidden dagger. “I mean it, Archie.”

And the way she said his shortened name was half-cautious, quiet, and ever-so intimate paired with her rose-red and sunshine-golden eyes.

He wanted to laugh, even though he knew it would be a desperate, painful thing. How long had he tried to get her to call him that? A pyrrhic victory, but it was the only one he’d had in all this mess. With fumbling hands, he latched onto it.

“I thank you for your offer.” He was surprised to find that he meant it. A flush threatened to show itself along his cheeks.

Embarrassment flickered through him.

He was the ambassador of the Pole—for however incrementally longer that may be—and well acquainted with far more scandalous suggestions. Chrysi offering him a place to stay shouldn’t have even been a blip on his radar.

Dipping his head, he mumbled to his feet, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mademoiselle Executioner, I…”

He trailed off, uncertain with what to say.

It was so silent.

So. Silent.

A rustle of her skirts. The glossy toes of her shoes moved away from him.

When Archibald looked back up, she gave him a single, silent nod.

Chrysi didn’t say anything else—didn’t need to—as she left him to his own grave. Too much was understood between the two of them. Archibald wished it weren’t so, even while he ached for more of her understanding.

Instead, he walked back into his barren room, over the ice-cold floor. He stared sightlessly over the empty, cracked walls, and laid atop his bed, deathly alone for the first time in his entire life.

———

That night, Archibald could not sleep. The cracks in his ceiling looked deeper. The bed was colder. The night was longer.

He pulled his thin pillow from underneath his head and buried his face in it before a scream could escape him.

———

The next night, he could hear his sisters leave their rooms, laughing amongst themselves over a joke he could never understand. Never again.

Archibald buried himself deeper into his bed and he tried to ignore it.

———

The night after, he could barely stir, the heaviness of the darkness so great that he had no ability to. He’d slept already, all through the day, and now he wanted to sleep again, all through the night.

The time for frantic tumbles was gone, and Archibald could not move.

He did not want to, anyhow.

***

It was a week later that he finally moved from his room, and even then, it was more of a shuffle. The greyness crept in too closely, until everything Archibald could picture was tinged permanently with monochrome. He wouldn’t arrogate to being an expert on matters of depressive episodes or the like, but he presumed that an issue such as permanently-monochromed thoughts would benefit from leaving his room.

And so, with great reluctance, he dragged himself to his door, and with an even greater trepidation, he opened it to the realm of illusions so vivid and false that he almost slammed the door shut and returned to his room of stuffy grey. At least that was real.

Archibald swallowed down the desire, and as it went down, it ground up his throat as though it was edged with broken glass. His nose, incidentally, was also rather stuffed up.

Perhaps sitting in one room with no fresh air for over a week did not do wonders to one’s health.

Just as Archibald came to this conclusion, his spine pressed flat against the door, his sisters spilled from their rooms all as one.

The moment they spotted each other, they all froze.

Seven of them, one of him. The way that they peered at him was like he was nothing more than an odd animal—as if they had forgotten his existence altogether, in his time of unmoving solitude.

For his part, he viewed them similarly. He’d spent so much time locked up inside that his memories of his sisters had suffered from a monochrome grey. Seeing them now was like seeing a falsehood. He didn’t have the proof of their existence through the eyes of his family members, and he didn’t trust his own eyes as a result.

Archibald could scarcely breathe.

His decision to leave his room was at the wrong time.

All seven of his sisters seemed to agree with him.

Melody’s face twisted up. Relish gave a hiccough to swallow down emotion. Joy paled. Grace took a small step backwards, and Dulcie looped her arm in Grace’s. Clarimond batted her eyes, then looked away.

At the front of the pack, Patience stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment. Her expression was a mask. A serious gravity made her face appear almost judicial in nature.

Then, with a command unheard by Archibald, all seven of his ex-sisters turned from him as one. Footsteps synced, they walked down the hallway away from him, all their shoulders pulled back, tension pulling them straight upright, their postures perfect.

In them, Archibald saw a camaraderie he would never join again. Already, his family had struck him from the record of the living. To them, he was dead—and thusly, no longer fit to be the ambassador of the Pole. The only reason he’d been allowed to stay in his room for this long was due to the fact that he had not left it.

As he watched the once-familiar figures of his sisters disappear down the hallway, something deep in his lungs tightened. His sternum crushed against his spine, and he had to hunch forward to choke out a breath.

Why, he wondered, would a ghost ever stay where they once lived?

Because, for him, it was nothing but another death ten times over.

He couldn’t stay there.

He was off and running before he was even aware he had the air to do that. And perhaps it was more of a stumble—from the blur of faces and the disgruntled noises turning into pleased cries of “Archie!” from women and stern greetings of “Mr. Ex-Ambassador” from their husbands, Archibald knew he was running into people more than he was making any headway.

It didn’t matter.

In the core of his being, all he knew was that he had to get away.

As he burst out of the front doors of Clairdelune, he realized he didn’t know precisely where to go. Away, yes—obviously. He had to get away, away, away—away from his childhood bedroom, away from the hallway lined with his ex-sisters’ doors, away from the Web and the reminder that they had struck him off the registry of the living.

But he didn’t want to go to the homes of any of previous affairs. They would never let him in the front door without the promise of his company.

He sucked in a lungful of air less tainted with illusions—but they would never be gone. Not completely. Not in this area of the Citaceleste.

As if bottled up for this very occasion, a familiar voice whispered, If ever you have the need for it, you can stay at my place. Even if it’s unannounced.

———

Chrysi woke up from her nap with blurry vision and the lasting impression of Jacks’s displeasure at her request that she stay at the Pole for longer. She looked about her narrow apartments groggily, but all she found was that her quilt had slipped onto the floor while she dreamed with the Executioner’s Officers. Her rooms looked the same: cracked caulking, neat to a fault, and uncomfortably cold no matter what she did.

She’d been awoken prematurely—but by what?

The answer repeated itself as if it had heard her silent confusion: knock, knock, knocking at her door, three staccato beats hurrying after the other. It begged attention, and immediately.

She sprang from her couch, and she tripped over herself getting to the door. Only once she’d closed her hand around the doorknob did she consider her messy hair and her sleepy eyes and her home clothes being unsuitable for a visitor eager to improve relations with Selene.

But by then it was too late. She’d flung the door open, and on the other side stood Archibald with his ratty top hat pressed to his chest in a half-remembered symbol of politeness.

Chrysi came up short.

In the time she hadn’t seen him, she thought Archibald would never worsen after his fever and delirium. Maybe he wouldn’t look much better, but at least he wouldn’t have deteriorated.

She had been wrong.

Circles darkened under his eyes, his skin had gone ashen, and his jaw was thoroughly unshaven in a manner unlike his normal defiance of social conventions. Everything about him weighed itself down, until he looked like a man half-dead.

The past couple weeks had treated him very, very poorly.

He smiled at her in a wobbly, apologetic way that was most certainly not meant to be wobbly and apologetic.

“Hello, Mademoiselle Executioner,” he said, or croaked, really. His smile fractured a millimeter wider, and his eyes looked like crushed glass. “I know I’m calling upon you unexpectedly, but would you mind letting me stay with you for the time being?”

She roused herself from her silent concern. Her eyes locked on his, the eyes once summer-blue. All she could think was that she missed the way they used to sparkle.

“Archie…” She pulled the door open wider and stepped back, a somber smile tilting her lips upward. “For however long you need—of course.”

#w.mine #s.chrysiarchie #and then archie jst lives in chrysi’s house. jst her little guy that likes to nap on her bed #jacks is NOT happy chrysi keeps showing up to their dreams like ‘i want to submit an official request to lengthen my diplomatic stay’#i almost wish that scene would have any meaning… i jst like chrysi using dreams as a long-distance meeting place #which rlly.. i think jacks is the one facilitating the meetings but EVEN SO.#miss dabos please tell me more abt selene bc otherwise i’m going to take this ark and SPRINT with it

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rynliadon · 2 years

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ok but what if eddie munson and nancy wheeler were best friends. what if eddie had saved nancy from her vecna trance, and they started to hang out more. what if eddie got nancy into heavy metal, and nancy loved its energy and emotion and how powerful it made her feel. what if nancy started experimenting with her style. (nancy in a leather jacket with piercings and jewelry!!) what if nancy was able to get close to someone again, have a good platonic friend again after barb, and learn that she IS a good friend, that barb's death wasn't her fault. (bc I get the sense that she and barb were the kind of friends who were attached at the hip, don't need anyone else type friends, and after her death the guilt and pain of it meant that her only friends were people she didn't know very well & purposely distanced herself from, school friends etc., and steve & jonathan. she deserves platonic friends!!) again I return to metalhead nancy. metalhead nancy wheeler. what if nancy and eddie helped each other through their upside down related trauma. and what if they got to have a deeply personal and close platonic connection. WHAT IF NANCY AND EDDIE WERE BEST FRIENDS.

#I've read pre-vol2 fics where eddie used his guitar to get nancy out of the vecna trance and that thought made me spiral a little #because what if they'd deeply bonded because of that??#I also think their platonic dynamic would be VERY interesting #because nancy is a person who I think naturally keeps almost everyone at a distance. the only people she doesn't do this with #-that I can infer from the show are barb and jonathan pre s4.#(I could genuinely write an entire essay about the way she distances herself from steve during their relationship honestly)#and eddie is a very charismatic & and extroverted person. I feel like he's someone who enjoys spending time with people and being social #& it would be so INTERESTING to see eddie in a more relaxed private setting with nancy doing something quiet like studying.#or nancy in a more energetic and social setting like a concert with eddie. learning to connect with people & the world etc.#ok I'll stop. I'm bullet pointing a fic rn. I make no promises about its publication but the cogs are still turning #stranger things #ryn dot text

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detectiveconnor · 2 years

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do you think rk1k could survive a long distance relationship?

yes

#it took me a solid 20 minutes to notice after posting it but the other day i wrote a starter where #markus disappeared & connor had been tried and convicted of his murder #and hadn't seen him in over a year and a half #and when someone told him markus had walked into the hospital's ER #connor thought:#My Boyfriend's Alive #i didn't even noooootice it was so off-the-cuff. no questions asked.#there was another one where ... markus was missing for 3 years and connor Did move out of their home #and in with hank (because living alone Isn't Healthy for him)#and even - yes - thought he was dead. i think after the two year mark it would have started ...#drifting a little. because he thought he was dead.#but a long-distance relationship where they have to make things work?#i do think long-distance relationships can be difficult and connor has had. like. in human verse recently he's #had to stop and say Let's Specifically Do Something Together because they've both almost died and have had to be working etc etc etc #and haven't had Time to do something together in a while and he misses just. Being There with him.#but that's the sort of thing that they *do*. they say 'i have noticed this isn't everything i need. let's try [xyz]'#they communicate. even if it did end up falling apart i can only see it being amicable and really ...#so long as they both keep wanting to be there. they'll keep being there.#anyway. the answer to this question is yes. if it needed to be that one of them was out of state or in another country #for several months or even a year #they would make it work. it might not be as close as it would be in person and it mightn't be how you'd expect #(though it also might be both of those things)#but they would find ways to check in with each other and see each other when they could and it #may well start with the impression 'we'll put this on hold until we can Be Together-be together'#but it would quickly shift from that because a relationship on hold is not sustainable. a relationship still there Is.#it would still be There.#thank you for asking!

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stromblessed · 5 months

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Mizu, femininity, and fallen sparrows

In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.

If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.

So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.

I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?

However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.

Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)

And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.

Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.

It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.

Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?

While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:

She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.

You see where I'm going with this.

When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:

And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD

When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.

MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS

No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.

And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:

Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!

The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.

And, uh

Yeah.

I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.

But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.

Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:

But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.

There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.

After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:

"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.

Kind of like another bird in this show:

#blue eye samurai #mizu #akemi #kinuyo #bes #women are birds okay they are BIRDS #the let me die line is so SCARY AND SAD like a part of Mizu wants death but she cant? she doesnt know how?? excuse you show???#when all these other delicate birds are dying all around her #akemis character gets more and more gutwrenching upon subsequent rewatches because whenever she says her life is in danger #NO ONE BELIEVES HER - certainly not other women #because shes rich and pampered and that means shes safe and is worrying about nothing right? right?????#and it turns out that all of akemis instincts were right and she was in danger the ENTIRE TIME #also I need to make a post just for kinuyo because I am sad

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insanechayne · 8 months

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~ ~ ~

#seems like I’m only going to get one message from you today which kinda sucks since you told me you didn’t really do much the whole day #reasonably you had time to talk to me at least a little bit more #I’ve only been begging for more time with you for weeks on end until it caused a fight but whatever #and I hate that this kind of thing even bothers me because why should I still care so much about how little or how much we talk?#I should be able to distance myself from you the way you do from me and have it not affect me at all #and yet apparently I still feel something for you and am still desperate for your attention and I don’t know how to make that stop #I still think about you every day all the time even when I don’t want to and I can’t make that stop either #it makes me feel so guilty because this is how I should be feeling for my girlfriend and yet it isn’t #I can say maybe that’s because I do see her all the time and talk to her often and we’re barely ever apart #but at the same time I know it’s because some part of me still yearns for you even though I can’t have you and that kills me #talking about the stupid day to day shit and wondering is this all there is for us? forever?#wondering if you ever think about me the way I think about you or feel tempted like I do #hearing you complain about the same things that brought us together in the first place and hating that part of me hopes it’ll bring you back #but also hurting so much because I know things can’t go back to the way they were and you don’t care for me like you used to #the anxiety and the stress and the pain are almost unbearable sometimes #and I’m just trying to go about my life like this isn’t twisting a knife in my guts every second of the day #I wonder sometimes if it would be better to just end our friendship and shut you out completely #out of sight out of mind right? can’t keep thinking about you if I can’t talk to you #but I just feel like that would make it worse and I don’t want to lose anyone else again #but there are ways my girlfriend just can’t fulfill me and I hate feeling like someday I’ll have to choose between all the parts of myself #deciding which parts of me get to be happy and complete because I just don’t get to have it all apparently #and she’s so amazing and wonderful and I love her so much I honestly do #she makes my heart feel full and makes me feel like I’m actually loved so much for once #and yet there’s still something missing and I can’t make this full connection with her and it just makes me feel guilty #I just don’t know what to do anymore because this is all driving me fucking insane #personal

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peppermintbutch · 8 months

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Packing for my move that I sooo don't want to do I want everything to stay the same... but I'm gonna be soo brave 😔

#idk how i feel abt my new flatmates and i rlly like my old flat :-( sadly our landlords are horrible #and I only moved here a year ago grrrr!!!#BUT my next room has a beautiful hardwood floor and a big windowsill. clinging to that #also my childhood dog is not doing well he might have cancer :-( hes probably not in pain but he's getting so old idk what to do w/o him #ALSO saw my cr*sh almost every day after minor heartbreak event which was fine and i like seeing her but i think i need a little distance #it's so weird bcs like everything is fine and i dont feel bad when seeing her but i always feel depleted and empty afterwards #like my brain is investing too much energy in this lost cause. but also i cant make it stop. BUT shes moving away soon #i also think i figured out 1 reason i keep catching unrequited feelings for ppl but i can't rlly put it into words yet #i think its like bcs 'imaginary' or 'future' love between ppl feels safer and more desirable to me than the real thing #and it gives me someone/something to focus on and devote my time to without the scary intimacy part #👍 idk what to do abt it but that's something i guess

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tender-rosiey · 8 months

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“OH GOD! IT’S WALKING?!”

— baby’s first steps with gojo, nanami, geto, and sukuna (f!reader)

GOJO SATORU:

your daughter simply adores her father, and she is almost as energetic as him. you recall multiple times when he would pick her up smiling, and she would hold his face giggling and smiling just as much.

it’s such a cute scene, and you have at least 6 similar photos.

so yeah, it doesn’t surprise you that she keeps looking at the door, waiting for him to come back from his mission.

you’re both sitting on the ground, a little distance from the door. you lightly tickle her, “you wanna see dada?”

she looks up to you then looks to the door and murmurs, “dada.”

“he will be here soon; I promise,” you press a kiss to her cheek, and she squeals. soon, the door clicks and it slowly opens to reveal your dear husband who’s holding what you think are bags of sweets, toys, and souvenirs.

“the world’s best dad and husband is here!” he announces brightly. quickly, you get your phone out to record yet another cute moment between your daughter and your husband.

however, neither you nor your husband expected your little girl to stand up excitedly and try to waddle her way to her dad.

“dada! dada!” she says as she hurriedly stumbles and waddles her way to him.

satoru kneels down on the ground, opening his arms widely as he grins, “yes, dada! come to dada, baby!”

successfully, the girl stumbles into satoru’s arms and giggles as he peppers her face with kisses.

he looks up to you with a pout, shifting d/n into one arm, “excuse me, but I would like my two favorite girls to be in my arms, right now!”

you chuckle and settle into his embrace and he presses a kiss to the top of her head and your own.

d/n gives him a kiss—more like simply put her mouth on his cheek—and nuzzles into his chest. satoru grins before looking at you, “she is so cute!”

you quip with a big smile, “I got that on video!”

“you and your gorgeous mind,” he hums as he kisses your cheek.

NANAMI KENTO:

“kento, you’re going to grow grey hair early like this.”

honestly, you can’t blame him for worrying like this. you were finally going on vacation, so your husband wanted everything to be organized.

the last thing he needs is a headache after he finally got rid of the walking one (read: gojo).

he sits down, sighing, “I know; I just don’t want anything to go wrong.”

you chuckle, and settle down beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “don’t worry,” you say, “we checked everything over a million times. nothing will go wrong.”

nanami smiles tiredly before pulling you into a gentle kiss, “well, I guess you’re right,” he looks around for a moment, “where is d/n?”

“she is playing with her toys on the mat; why?”

“she is not on the mat.”

“she is not on the what?!” you yell, bolting out of your seat and frantically searching for her, “d/n, honey, where are you?!”

“y/n, calm down!” your husband tries to comfort you, “she is still in the house, so don’t stress about it; we will find her.”

as if on cue, a giggle and a coo are heard behind nanami. he turns to find the culprit, his 10 months old girl grinning. she squeals and tries to walk towards him, hands eagerly reaching out for him.

she is stumbling a bit, and her steps are clumsy, and nanami couldn’t have been prouder.

he smiles fondly, “good girl, d/n,” he opens his arms, encouraging, “you can do it.”

she flails her arms as she giggles, “da-dada!”

d/n finally reaches his leg and holds onto it for dear life. she starts swaying as she looks up at him, “dada!” he bends down to kiss the top of her head.

she hums happily, before waddling towards you, worried, “mama?”

you breathe a sigh of relief and hold her in your arms, “you got me worried, baby,” you stroke her hair and she nuzzles into your embrace, little hands gripping your shirt tightly.

nanami lets out a chuckle as he watches your daughter starts to fall asleep in your arms.

he moves to hug you two, and hums with content, “and you say that I am the worrywart.”

GETO SUGURU:

“y/n, what makes you so sure that they will start walking soon?” your husband says as he watches his two little girls play in the garden.

he already had nanako and mimiko, but god chose to grace him with his own pair of twins.

he couldn’t be happier, especially with way the twins both care for each other and beam whenever they see him.

he also adores seeing them play with you; it brings a type of serenity to his heart.

you chuckle, “call it a mother’s instincts.”

suguru rolls his eyes and pulls you by the waist, “you showing off, pretty?”

“nope! just asserting dominance.”

with a roll of his eyes, he gives you a peck on the nose. the both of you then settle down on the grass as well, quietly watching the girls try to chase—wait what chase?

suguru and you lock eyes, and he quickly scrambles to get the camera. meanwhile, you’re trying to encourage the girls to continue their walking, “who’s winning, girls?”

each one of the stumbling babies yells out a—supposedly—‘me!’. they‘re both squealing as they walk around.

soon enough, suguru makes an appearance and starts recording, “I am gonna get you!”

the girls squeal and try their best to run away from the big bad monster.

the very cute thing that even has suguru pausing in his chase is that when one of them falls, the other waits for her or tries to help her up.

of course, the latter mostly results in both of them falling on their small little bums. luckily, they clumsily stand up instead of crying their eyes out.

they get tired eventually though, so they waddle their way to you. both of them sit beside you and rest their heads on your lap.

suguru stands in front of you, hands on his hips, “you leaving me out of this group cuddle?”

your twins perk up and turn their heads to peak at him and they giggle when he pouts. still, they open their little arms for their dad to join the family hug, “dada! hug!”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

your husband is not exactly the most enthusiastic father.

he wasn’t that affected by your son’s first word being dada, and a lot of things that you can’t be bothered to think about.

so yeah, you’re left with the role to be the encouraging parent, and to hype your son whenever he accomplishes something.

so obviously, your son adores you more than he does his father. however, there is no denying that sukuna’s genes are indeed strong.

despite the kid’s beaming smile, he could be choking a snake. it actually reminds you of that one hercules scene.

your son also has a quicker development than most kids, but it doesn’t lessen the excitement when he finally took his first steps.

you held onto sukuna’s arms, pointing at your boy, “sukuna, look, he is walking!”

“so?”

you pause then look at your husband, “what do you mean ‘so’?” you grin, “they’re his first steps, you silly goose!”

sukuna frowns, “I am not a silly goose,” he then rolls his eyes, “he was going to start walking sooner or later anyway, woman.”

you huff, “you’re no fun.”

however, you don’t get to dwell on it for much longer as you hear the scream of one of the servants. you and your husband are looking towards them, and—suffice to say—it’s a memorable scene.

your son, who just started walking, is somehow holding a wooden pickaxe and waddling his way behind the servant.

he is grinning and squealing too like he isn’t about to beat up an innocent person (it reminds you of something or rather someone).

the servant is surprisingly terrified form the kid as she screams, “my lady, please save me!”

you have no idea how a grown woman is terrified of a one year old, but you will give her the benefit of the doubt that he is, after all, the son of the king of curses.

you sigh with a chuckle and walk towards them, “on my way.”

the kid squeals, waddling quicker after the servant who’s about to shit her pants.

meanwhile, sukuna is smirking proudly as he watches his son, “now, that’s my kid.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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misroberts · 8 months

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let me talk about how giving abigail affection is a complicated thing and how she will likely refuse it almost immediately no matter how close she and the other person are. but at the same time how she only feels comfortable when it’s her that initiates.

#reaching out to caress or hold the other person’s hand #or holding their face while she leans in for a peck #hc tag.#more little character studies/mannerisms #but the main point affection is okay when it’s on her terms #almost controlling but not really #she can guide the persons hand to her cheek or slap it away #angle their face how she needs it or keep them at a distance

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yanderenightmare · 2 months

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TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking

gn reader

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.

It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.

Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.

You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself.

So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange.

For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.

You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.

It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him.

Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.

You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.

It’s like he isn't a student at all…

And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.

It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.

Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.

It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long.

You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.

He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving.

As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.

But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.

It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.

It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him.

But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.

He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together.

He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.

“Ugh...” You sigh.

It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.

When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.

“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed.

Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.

You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended.

“This isn't how this is supposed to go.”

You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”

You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.

“Why are you so difficult?”

You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance.

With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.

Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.

Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.

He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…

Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…

But it’s clear now….

You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.

“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.

You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.

He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.

Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.

The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face.

He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.

The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.

But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.

“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”

He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.

“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”

You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.

His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...”

You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air.

“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”

You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.

“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”

There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.

“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”

Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.

“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”

He groans, and you sob.

“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”

JJK – Gojo, Yuta

BNHA – Hawks, Denki, Kirishima

HQ – Miya twins

CSM – Yoshida

BLLK - Nagi

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tojirights · 3 months

Note

fem!reader with a size kink and alastor just teases her about it. It starts off innocently before angel dust just teases and teases her about it until alastor decides to have fun with it.

a/n: this is prolly very ooc alastor but uhhhh this is fun sooo 🩷

word count: too many i don't even know

tags: 18+ smut nsfw, alastor has a big dick, unprotected sex, alastor cums a lot, slight cervix fucking (?), teasing

alastor first notices your inclination for pointing out he's much larger than you when you're always grabbing his hand. he easily covers your hand with his and it gives you butterflies every time. you think he doesn't notice your flushed cheeks, but alastor keeps a close eye on your emotions. he likes to make little snide comments but other than that, it's mostly harmless.

it evolves into him coming up behind you and resting his arms on the top of your head with ease, barely even straightening his back to do so. "hey!" you whine, crossing your arms over your chest. "im not an arm rest, y’know?" alastor just laughs, tugging gently on your hair to pull your head back. your eyes meet his, and your body tenses. the look he gives you is intoxicating, the way he easily peers over you makes you want to shrink into him and let him envelop you.

"yer not?" angel chirps in, breaking you from your daydream. "coulda fooled me. thought you were a coat rack, especially the way you hang onto mr tall dark 'n handsome over there like ya life depends on it." you gasp at his words, immediately trying to put distance between you and alastor but his arm hooks around your waist. "h-hey this isn't fair..." you huff, but alastor's chest is warm against your back and it's making your head fuzzy. "you like 'em big, dont'cha sweetie?" angel snickers, enjoying the way your cheeks go bright red.

all you can do is wiggle around in alastor's grasp until he lets you flip around and face him. you waste no time in burying your face in his chest, hiding the pure embarrassment written all over it. "oh come now angel, the poor girl can only take so much." he laughs when you put your fist to his chest. "i bet she can take more than you think..... alright i'm done i swear!" angel leaves the room cackling, too proud of himself. "alastor... please..." you sigh, your face still pressed against his chest.

he lets out a soft chuckle before petting your head. "just a little friendly teasing, hm?" he steps away to give you some much needed air. "i wouldn't want to break you, my dear." alastor all but pouts, making you audibly groan. you can't take it anymore, the desire burning a hole straight through you. you grab his hand and drag him from the hotel lobby into your own room of the hotel.

closing the door to your room, you're about to speak when alastor surprises you by pinning you to the door. "you want to be broken, hm?" his voice, shrouded in static makes your skin crawl and your heart rate pick up. "i-i..." all of your confidence from earlier fades from your grasp as alastor towers over you, deep red eyes seeing straight through you. "your words, darling. tell me that you just can't wait for me to take you, to push your limits."

his breath is hot on your ear, threatening to burn you. "w-what if i can't take it?" you whisper, words shaking just as much as your body with how much adrenaline is being pumped through you. alastor's mouth finds your neck as sharp teeth gently nip at your skin. "i think that's what you're hoping for, my dear." his words end in a sharp hiss, his hips pressing you into the door. and then you finally feel it, alastor's hard cock against your body.

oh fuck.

"this is long overdue, please forgive me if my patience seems short." he mutters into your skin, barely containing himself from biting your soft flesh. with ease, alastor lifts you off the floor and begins carrying you to the bed. the effortlessness sends an ache straight to your core. laying you down, you look up at him with wide eyes. it's such a head rush, you almost don't notice how he lifts your ass up just enough to remove your shorts and panties.

your breath hitches at the realization that you're mostly bare and yet he's fully clothed. "can i..." you swallow hard, hands trailing down his body. "i-i wanna touch it... wanna hold it." alastor bites back a groan, not sure he's ever heard you say something sexier. its a frenzy to remove the remaining clothing, neither of you wanting to waste any more time.

you're practically drooling by the time alastor's cock is freed, knowing damn well that this wasn’t fitting. the head of his cock alone would probably stretch you to your limit. straddling his hips, you finally wrap your fingers around his aching cock and moan aloud. "jesus christ al..." you breathe, eyes wide while you slide your hand up and down slowly, like you're engraving it to memory. alastor's body shudders, seeing just how small your hand looks wrapped around him. flicking your thumb over his leaky slit, you smear precum down his length.

"you can play later babe, fffuck, no more though." the gravelly sound you're used to hearing in his voice seems to be doubled, anticipation swirling in your gut. alastor's hands reach around to cup your ass, and flips you onto your back. everything about alastor was overwhelming, his size, his attitude, his cock. your head spins as alastor presses the head of his cock to your entrance, you can already tell it's barely going to slide in even with how soaked your cunt is.

"i-i don't-" alastor shushes you, easing into you inch by inch. your thighs shake, and you're sure there's no way you'll be able to take it all. "ngh, alastor." you whine, the ever growing stretch starting to make your stomach hurt. "ah ah, you're doing so well darling. so tight." he sighs, watching his cock disappear into your sweet wet heat.

your eyes roll into the back of your head, his cock pressing snuggly against your cervix. "thats it, good girl." he almost wants to laugh as he pulls back out, seeing there's still a few couple of inches that aren't covered in your wetness. "we're going to have to work on this, aren't we?" you reach your hand down and feel where your bodies are connected and moan. "t-there's still that much?" and alastor does laugh this time. "don't you worry about that, we'll train this pussy to take every inch."

each thrust of his cock makes your stomach ache, and the feeling of being so full keeps pushing you closer to the edge. "s-soo big, 'm gonna..." you cry out as alastor's hands find your hips. he picks a brutal pace, you're not sure how you'll be able to walk tomorrow, but the stretch and burn of his cock forcing his way deeper and deeper has that coil in your stomach about to break.

and when you do cum, it's the most explosive orgasm you've ever felt. "a-alastor !" your vision goes black, and you almost miss the feeling of alastor's release. well, you would have missed it, but the sheer amount of seed he spills deep against your cervix is immediately leaking from your abused hole. it seeps down to your ass even, covering you in such a way you'll probably never forget.

breathing heavily, you lay comfortably still under him. alastor places a gentle kiss to your forehead before removing himself from the bed. "rest, darling. i will be right back." you’re half asleep by the time he comes back with a warm towel, and even more so when he pulls the blanket over you. he waits until you're sound asleep before he goes to shower off.

"well, i suppose i owe angel a thank you..." alastor hums to himself.

#hazbin hotel #alastor smut #hazbin hotel alastor smut #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #alastor x you smut #alastor imagines #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader smut #alastor hazbin hotel smut #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin smut #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin alastor x reader

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nanaslutt · 3 months

Text

Hypocrite

Tojo Fushiguro x reader

Synopsis: when things get steamy with Toji, you accidentally surprise him with something that makes him lose his mind

Incl: fem reader, established relationship, non-curse au, Toji still has Megumi, dry humping, dirty talk, oral(f!r), panty kink, fingering, face sitting, masturbation, use of the word 'daddy' once but not in a kinky way, whipped Toji

MDNI

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note: for the lovely @istyrrstars thank u for drawing me w/ the loml uraume, pls enjoy ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

A pair of large hands gripped the fat of your ass and pulled you further up on his lap as Toji deepened the kiss, wanting to feel you closer to him. You sat right on against Toji's half-hard-on, not daring to rock your hips back and forth on him so you wouldn't appear needy. You and Toji had been watching one of the shows you had been quite enamored with lately. The time that the show came on was perfect too, always starting a new episode right after Toji's kid, Megumi, fell asleep.

The large man took his chance during the commercial break to pull your body on top of his lap. His hands rubbed up and down the length of your thighs teasingly before he looked down at your plush lips with dark eyes and gave you a handsome smirk, his eyes finding yours. "Gimmie a kiss." He spoke softly, his deep voice reverberating in your ears as he puckered his lips like a child, his lips smacking against each other in cute kissy noises as he waited for you to lean in on your own accord.

The kiss had started playful and innocent, but as usual with Toji, kisses never stayed innocent. Hell, not even holding hands was an innocent gesture with this insatiable man. Toji was soon pulling quiet moans and whines from you as your tongues danced together in the other's mouths, creating lewd smacking noises to echo off the walls.

"Shhhh..." Toji hushed against your lips, smirking before he pressed his lips to yours once again. He thought it was so cute how worked up you got from just a couple of kisses, and you thought he was mean for doing it, he knew you had a hard time keeping quiet when you were aroused. Toji's hands started massaging your ass, silently urging you to start rocking your hips against him for a little friction.

You groaned in protest, already knowing what this was going to lead to. It's not that you didn't want to escalate things with Toji necessarily, but the two of you had gone at it for so long last night and you were still sore. "Move your hips for me, baby, just a little, c'mon," Toji whispered against your lips, his words already coming out slightly breathy. You rolled your eyes internally, who got worked up easy?

Pulling away from the kiss you knocked your forehead against Toji's, staring into his hooded eyes. His face was blurry from the proximity, but you could still clearly see the need swirling in his eyes. "Yeah?" Toji whispered, almost inaudibly as he licked his lips, keeping his eyes on yours. You pouted at him before you gave in, starting to rock your hips on top of him.

"Good girl..." Toji cooed, a sinister smile spreading across his face as he connected your lips once more, the kiss returning with more hunger. He groaned quietly against your mouth--his hands gripped your ass with more fervor as he tried to get you to rut down against him harder, faster.

"T-toji-" You gasped against him, your hot breath tickling his lips.

Toji leaned back against the couch, distancing your faces so he could take in the sight in front of him. Your lips were swollen and wet from the sloppy kiss, and your eyes were already starting to lose focus the longer you rocked your hips against him. Toji looked down to where the two of you were touching. His smile grew in size when he realized how prominent the bulge of his cock was through his thin black basketball shorts.

"That feel's good doesn't it?" Toji asked, studying your face. You pouted at him, not wanting to fully give in just yet. One of Toji's hands left your ass to caress your face, his thumb sliding over your lip, pulling your bottom one down as he exposed your bottom row of teeth, his eyes following his movements. He knew exactly how to tease you to drive you crazy.

"Do you like rubbin' ur pussy all over my cock?" Toji whispered, his warm breath hitting your face from the proximity. His words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, down your spine, and straight to your throbbing clit. "Huh? Talk to me." You spread your lips for Toji as his thumb slipped onto your tongue, pressing down as he held your chin with the rest of his fingers. "Uh-huh." You responded your response a bit slurred from his finger in your mouth.

You wrapped your lips around it and suckled, the same way you did to the tip of his cock. You quickly forgot about how he said he just wanted you to move a little, but you were familiar with his game, you knew once he had a taste he had to go all the way. "You pretendin' that's my cock?" he teased, biting his bottom lip as he smirked at you, feeling how you eagerly licked and rolled your tongue around the finger between your lips.

You were about to respond when you were cut off by Toji reciprocating your thrusts, his cock pressing right into your sensitive little bud, making you yelp out a moan unexpectedly. Toji gripped the fat of your ass as a warning as he slowed your thrusts against him, simultaneously pressing his thumb deeper into your mouth to gag you. "Be quiet baby, don't wanna want my kid, do you?" He teased, raising his eyebrows at you.

You shook your head, both of your hands gripping the wrist of the thumb he had stuffed in your mouth. "Gotta make sure you stay quiet, you're too sensitive right now." He mumbled. In an instant Toji slid his thumb out from between your lips with a pop, saliva sticking to the finger briefly before he wrapped his arms around your body and placed you down against the couch, Toji's body caging you under him.

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctually as he held your head in his hands, his lips finding yours hurriedly to keep you quiet before he started thrusting his clothed cock against you. The new angle felt so perfect, he was rubbing against you right where you needed him each time he humped against you, and now that he was the one in charge of the pace, you could let go and relax against the cushions as Toji took control and made the both of you feel good.

"You feel so good against me," Toji mumbled between kisses, his breath picking up the longer he touched your skin. You nodded in agreement, trying to keep your whimpers down as his hands started caressing down your body, his weight crushing you as he did so. Toji's lips left yours far too soon for your liking as he sat back, resting on his heels with your legs spread over his thighs.

"Let's get these off of you, hm?" He whispered, tucking his lips into his mouth as he pulled down your shorts with the help of you raising your ass off the cushion for him so he could slide them off easier. Toji kept his eyes on yours as he undressed you with ease, leaving your panties on. Toji lifted your leg as he pulled it through the hole of your pants, kissing the skin of your ankle before he placed it back down over his thigh.

When Toji finally let his eyes fall to your panty-clad pussy, he froze in place. He could feel the way his face changed color from pale, to a dark crimson as he took in the material that was covering your cunt. Your crotch was covered in a gorgeous pink thong up to right where your groin ended, above that, two holes in the material in the shapes of triangles that exposed the skin on your outer groin. The top of the garment was decorated in a gorgeous black lace that spread over your hips until it was cut off there by the pink lace that wrapped around your ass.

Toji was at a loss for words, he felt his mouth run dry as he took in the sight. "W- Is this new?" Toji asked, stuttering as he spoke. His fingers pinched the thin strap that rested on your hipbone, the color contrasting agaisnt your skin nicely. You looked down at your crotch to see what Toji was talking about. "Oh, these? Mmm, yeah I guess." You responded nonchalantly. You had bought the panties ages ago but had never worn them for some reason, but you sure as hell were glad you decided to pick them out this morning from Toji's reaction alone.

"You like them?" You added, smiling at Toji as you felt your face get hot from all the attention he was giving you down there. "Do I like them? Fuck, you're driving me crazy. Almost came in my pants the second I saw them." Toji replied, his large hand covering his mouth as his face scrunched in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing together. "I didn't know they would have such an effect on you." You giggled, putting on a show for Toji by wiggling your hips.

"I would've worn them ages ago if it meant you were going to act like this." You kept your voice down as you spoke, making your words sound more sensual. Toji shook his head in disbelief as he let his hand slide down his face, resting against your thigh. "I was gonna get us off just like this, but I don't think it'll be enough after seein' these. Toji whispered, the blush deepening as his fingers played with the holes of the panties, the tips of them tickling your skin as he played with the material between his fingers.

"Think you can stay quiet for me, mama?" Toji asked, a mischievous look spreading across his face. You weren't sure what he had in mind, but you nodded regardless. His shameless show of his own arousal filled you with ten times the need you had before. Your clit throbbed as Toji slid down between your thighs, his hands placing your legs over his shoulders as he came face to face with your covered cunt.

"W-wait wait-" You said, feeling your face heat up as he leaned into you. Your hands pushed his shoulders to stop him before your hands slid up to card through his hair. You averted your eyes before you spoke, the words you hadn't even said embarrassing you as you thought them over. "I... I want us to feel good together." You said coyly, pouting at him as you built up the courage to find his eyes.

"Seriously you-" Toji looked at you incredulously, how did you learn to be so cute? His head flopped down against your pelvis as he tried to get ahold of himself, his cock threatening to spill his seed already and he hadn't even so much as licked you yet. When he raised his head after a couple of seconds, his hair was tousled in every direction and a deep blush was spread across his face, making him look adorable. Could you even call a man like Toji Fushiguro adorable? Well, it was true.

"Watch me cum just from eatin' this pussy. Don't worry about me." Toji assured before he leaned in and pressed his nose agaisnt your cunt, inhaling your scent. You hated when Toji did that, it made you so self-conscious. You scrunched your face in embarrassment as your hands tried to push his head away from you again. "Toji..." You whined, looking away as he smelled you.

You missed the way his eyes rolled back in his head as he inhaled the scent of you. His cock spit out a long bead of pre-cum against the inside of his boxers as he relished in your smell like some sort of pervert. He was unable to resist the urge to hump his hips against the couch cushion, trying to relieve himself. "Fuuuck, you smell so fuckin' good. I'm so hard right now ur' drivin' me crazy," He moaned, his eyes falling shut.

Begrudgingly, you forced yourself to look back down at the man between your legs. You were grateful you did at that moment because you were able to watch him lick a fat stripe up your clothed cunt with his warm tongue, his tastebuds taking in the essence of your pussy that had leaked through the fabric. "Oh- shit-" You whined, your head tipping back against the cushions.

You must've been a little too loud for Toji's liking because his hand slid up your body to rest just under your neck, his fingers curling against your skin. Both of your hands immediately held his hands over your chest, bracing yourself before he really went to town. "Keep it down, mama. If you wake my kid I'm gonna be fuckin' pissed. Don't try me right now." He said, his words harsh but his tone needy and threatless. He must really be into this, you've never seen him so worked up about something so trivial like a pair of panties before.

"S-sorry, okay, I'll be quiet, promise." You responded, nodding hastily. You just wanted to feel his tongue on you already, you had to be good. "If you struggling, bite the pillow I don't care." Those were the last words you heard from him before his lips latched onto your clit through your panties, his warm tongue poking and prodding against the little bud as he sucked you.

Your thighs squeezed around his head at the stimulation, your toes curling against his back in tandem. "Oh fuck-" You moaned quietly, your eyes rolling back in your head as Toji expertly massaged your clit with his tongue. He moaned softly around it, sending vibrations through the little bud, making you go cross-eyed.

He steadily humped his hips agaisnt the cushions, the crack where the two cushions met was providing Toji with just the right amount of friction as he ground against them. Despite Toji tongue fucking you through your panties, it still felt heavenly, you bet you could cum like this-- but Toji had other ideas.

You felt his fingers prod against the part of the panties that covered the opening of your cunt, making your back arch against him before he was pulling the fabric to the side and rubbed his thick finger against your dripping entrance. He pulled his mouth off of your clothed clit to let the fabric pull back with his fingers, exposing the unobstructed little bud to his hungry eyes--and mouth.

"Toji..." You whined, "Put it in." You pouted, breathing rapidly as you tried to hump against him, pushing your hips into the air. Usually, Toji would tease you about being needy or say some smart remark back, but right now, he had nothing to say. Toji pressed his finger against the tight ring of your wet cunt, easily penetrating your walls as he started thrusting it in and out, curling it when it was fully inserted to massage your g-spot.

"R-right there baby- right there-" You gasped, one of your hands leaving his own as you slapped it over your mouth, muffling your whines as he fingerfucked you at a steady pace. "Pussy's louder than you," Toji laughed, his eyes carefully watching how you sucked him in so greedily. "God you have the prettiest fucking cunt...fuck." He mumbled, mostly to himself before he leaned down and took your clit back into his mouth.

This time, the stimulation felt ten times more intense as he was sucking you directly now. You bit your lip behind your hand as you tried to stay quiet. Your abs clenched as your body jerked forward when Toji sucked too hard on your clit, making you see stars behind your eyelids.

Toji felt drunk on you as he ate you out mindlessly, his cock steadily humping against the couch as he licked your clit with fervor, spelling his name across the little bud. You wanted to complain when Toji slid his thick finger out of your tight cunt, but it was quickly replaced with his long tongue fucking into you as his thumb now took its place on your clit, rubbing quick circles over it.

You were unable to decide what felt better as your body shook with pleasure. Toji felt himself on the brink of orgasm as he tasted your juices directly, his tongue lapping into your pussy hurriedly. He felt like he had to be quick for some reason, maybe it was how worked up he was. All he knew is he needed you to cum all over his face, and soon--preferably before he painted the inside of his boxers white with his cum.

"I- I can't take this." Toji suddenly growled, pulling away from your cunt entirely. You were hardly able to comprehend what had happened in just a few seconds in your blissed-out state, but Toji was now under you as you straddled his collarbone, your slick dripping against his hot skin. "You gotta sit on my face mama, fuck, please." He begged needily, that same domineering tone laced in his words.

Every nerve of your body was set on fire at his words. You loved seeing Toji like this, it made you feel hot and bothered all over. You nodded and quickly placed your shaky thighs around his head, your cunt hovering above his mouth just out of reach. "Don't hover, sit on my fucking face I can take it. C'mon, give it to me." Toji growled, his hands making quick work of pulling his shorts and boxers down enough to pull his hard cock out as he spoke.

Without another word, you sat down on his face, pressing your whole weight on top of him. His eyes immediately rolled back in his head as he dove into your cunt, his hand jerking rapidly over his cock, the speed at which he was going making it look like a blur. You gripped his sweaty hair harshly with one hand, making Toji groan at the painful pleasure as you pressed your other over your mouth again.

This was too much, you weren't going to last like this. Toji ate you out like a man starved, He was so sloppy with it. His jaw opened and closed against you as he alternated between tongue fucking you and sucking your clit into his mouth. You rocked your hips along his face, your clit bumping against his sharp nose, making your body fall forward at the harsh stimulation.

Toji started squirming against the couch as his noises became louder. He was even louder than you, even with your cunt smothering his face. "God Toji- s-suck my clit again I'm gonna cum-" You whined, gasping into your hand. He nodded as he sucked your clit between his plush lips, his eyes fluttered as his hips absentmindedly humped into his hand, making your body rock with him from how much he was moving.

Toji got rough often, but his movements were still calculated and thought out. Right now though, he was gone. He was fucking into his fist with no specific pace as he thoughtlessly licked up your juices, his tongue doing whatever it thought would feel good using muscle memory from all the times he ate you out before. "Toji q-quiet, be quiet-" You tried to get through to him when his volume increased, but you knew it was over for him when you looked down and saw how glassed over and out of focus his eyes were.

"Mmmm- m-mm-" Toji's body jerked forward, his back arching as his orgasm hit him unexpectedly, white ropes of his cum spilling out from his cock. You came on his tongue right after him, your body falling forward as you hunched over his head, your hands catching yourself on the edge of the couch as you rode your orgasm out on his mouth. He stuck his tongue out for you to jerk against as you came, letting you use him for your own pleasure as his orgasm wrapped through his own body, making him go dumb.

You slid your hips off of his mouth, leaning your body back as you sat on his chest and braced your arms back against his toned thighs, your hands landing in something warm and sticky--you could take a guess at what that was. Toji's body twitched under you with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He must've cum hard, he came before you and he was still feeling it even after you finished.

You laid down on top of him, your inner thighs getting smeared with his seed as his cock poked limply against your leg. He inhaled rapid and shaky breaths through his mouth as he fought to catch his breath. His entire face was coated in your wetness, it made you feel a little embarrassed as you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his wet lips, tasting yourself on him.

"You okay, daddy?" You asked, teasing him with the nickname. He inhaled a deep breath, sighing before he spoke. "I'm okay mama." He replied, his eyes still out of focus as his hand caressed the side of your face, his fingers tracing over your ear. "You were really feelin' it." You laughed, pressing kisses to his face, simultaneously wiping some of your wetness off of his skin.

"Wear... wear those panties more often." He whispered between breaths, his unfocused eyes staring at the ceiling as he spoke. "Only when Megumi isn't home." You said, poking your finger against his nose. "You broke your own rule y'know, I'm surprised you didn't wake the kid." You laughed, resting your head agaisnt his chest.

Toji's warm hands rubbed soothingly over your back, "Whatever he's fine." Toji brushed it off, making you roll your eyes at how relaxed he was about it now that he had broken his rule--hypocrite.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #toji x y/n #dilf toji #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro

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angelltheninth · 2 months

Text

What Goes Down in the Forest

Pairing: Male Forest!Monster x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, predator/prey dynamic, fear play, biting, size difference, creampie, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, rough sex, brat taming

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: It's raining right now so that puts me in a monster loving mood.

It was you who suggested this little game to him. The forest was his domain, he knew it like the back of his hand, moved through it seamlessly, with out any issue. And then there was you, you who kept tripping on logs, getting caught on crunches, slipping on the dirt all the while looking behind you to make sure you put enough distance between you and the tall monster chasing you.

To make sure you didn't get too lost he marked the trees you passed by every now and then. You didn't have to be scared of getting lost and even if you did you could rest assured he would bring you back home safe and sound.

"What are you so afraid of then?" The voice came from somewhere behind you. "Is is just adrenaline pumping through your veins that's making your heart beat so fast?" You heard him chuckle, "You don't smell very afraid to me. Horny little human, getting your kicks from something like this. I knew I chose right."

The trees and the wind carried and obscured his voice, still making it impossible to know how close he was. This forest, you learned, worked how he wanted it to.

Everything in here was his. Including you.

You stepped back without looking, your foot catching on the thick tree roots. You yelped, expecting a hard hit. Instead you felt strong arms wrap around you, shielding you from impact. "Are you alright?" His voice calmed you, as deep as it was.

You meet his eyes, deep green in a sea of stormy gray, filled with worry. In his forest you were under his protecting, just like everything else. "Pet, are you hurt anywhere?"

"Ah, no. I'm alright. Thank you for saving me. That... that was lame." You ducked away from his gaze only for one big, clawed hand to cup your cheek. His lips, and upper fangs, pressed against your lips, soothing your worried, "Did I ruin the mood?"

"Does it seem like you did? Look." He gazed down to his cock, still very hard between his legs, aching to be inside you. "I want you, clumsiness and all." He assured you in-between kisses. "Can you run for me again? Put up a fight for me? Or shall I take you as you are? You smell more then ready enough." His hands grabbed both of your hips and lifted you up, his nose pressing against your pants and breathing in the horny scent between your legs.

As much as you wanted to give in right now he just asked you to run for him. So you will run, you will fight and you will get him to rut into you until you can't walk.

You pushed on his slightly curved, dark green horns, feeling the intertwined branches and leaves under your fingers. They wrapped around his horns and his head like a crown, almost giving him an air of royalty, or a god. Truth be told you still don't know if he's either of those. All you knew was that he was the protector of this place.

Gripping his horns tight you wrestled his head away which elicited a deep groan from him. He snarled at you when you kicked him away and started running again, in any direction your legs carried you in.

Before you knew it you were out of breath again. Panting you leaned against a tree. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" The tree had claw marks on it! How the hell did you get turned around?! Was this a trick? He did say he liked to toy with his prey.

Or he somehow ran ahead of you and marked this tree before you got to it. Which meant you needed to run back. Unless that's what he wanted you to think! He was playing mindgames with you, and you weren't in the mood. The blood was not going to your brain at this time.

Two strong hands gripped you from behind the tree, one on your mouth, muffling your screams, the other around your hip, keeping you pinned. "Kicking me in the face? Brave human." His voice was now next to your ear. It was then that you realized that the voice and the arms wasn't coming from behind the tree but from inside it. A male body pushed itself from the bark, stepping next to you but your hands and mouth were still pinned, still closed.

He could do that?

As he looked at you in that helpless state he smirked, his pointy teeth catching your eye, "I'll have you know I've killed people for far less." He tilted his head as he bent closer, his eyes roaming across your body. "Lucky for you, I value the pleasure you provide."

"Do you? Because I haven't gotten any in a while. What would you do if I ended our contract?" You smiled at him, watching his cock stir in protest. "Who would fuck you then? You'd have to wait for some other poor human to get lost in here. But if you can make me feel good now, I might reconsider." The truth was you could do this, if you were an asshole or didn't love your boyfriend. But this was part of your game, you egged him on, wanting to see how he would react.

"And you think I would allow you to walk out of my life just like that after I made you mine? Everything in this forest is mine from the moment it steps foot in. That includes you, my pretty human cocktoy." His hand lazily stroked his cock as he approached you. "I decide if you leave here walking, or carried in my arms, with my cock still inside you. And since you don't seem to understand that I will have to remind your cunt who truly owns it."

His nails turned into sharp black claws and tore through your pants. The cold air hit you immediately. You watched as the green of his eyes eclipsed almost all of the gray.

"Wet and ready. Just how I want you." He growled as he grabbed your leg and pushed it up, revealing your dripping pussy to him. "There it is. My prize."

Rough hands held both your legs open as his cock pushed inside with single smooth stroke. His own pre-cum made it easier then ever before, you could already feel his seed coating your inner walls. "I love how you split me open with your cock." You had to get used to the size, the thickness, the slight structure of it that dragged and stimulated your pussy with every thrust.

His horns grew at your praise, hips pushing closer until they were flush against your own. "I love how well you take me. As if you were made only for me. My cock. My seed. My offspring. Yes... I should... maybe if I put a damn bastard child in your womb you'll see how much you love me."

Your back arched and pussy squeezed around him immediately. You didn't have to say you wanted it now, your body was doing it all for you. "Are you sure it's possible?"

"I will make it possible." He snarled. He pulled back until only the tip remained and then slammed in at full force. Again. And again. And again. "My seed will take." The truth was you were pretty sure it was quite difficult between you two. If you could have gotten pregnant easily you would already be pregnant. He hated condoms. "I'll make you swell with it."

As his pace increased the forest echoed with your moans, the wet pussy squelches, skin slapping against skin, the sound of wood being broken and healed. You pulled against the rough bark around your wrists, aching to get closer to your lover.

His claws dug into your meaty thighs, marking you once again.

It wasn't enough for him. No mark was ever enough for him. As soon as one healed he put a new one in his place. "Tell me you accept it, human. Tell me how much your womb wants my seed." He pushed in all the way, letting you feel his cock pulsing inside you, then pulled out, in and out, deep and long strokes that made your breath hitch. "Tell me!"

The booming voice made your body flinch and your cunt spasm around him. "Fuck! Don't stop now, keep fucking my pussy! It feels good, I-" You whimpered, taking in a quick breath.

He wasn't calming down, wasn't letting your orgasm end, pistoning in and out of you and clenching his teeth to hold his own orgasm back until you told him you wanted it.

"I want you to put a baby in me. Fuck me. Breed me full of your cum. Make sure every human, animal and demon knows it was you who got me pregnant, that it's your kid I'm carrying." The forest itself shook and awoke with his deep, guttural roar. "Right in there, right in my pussy, fuck it all in."

"Not a drop will go to waste." He promised as his hips came to a stop against yours, his arms finding the small of your back as your legs wrapped around his broad hips, feeling the soft fur starting at his hips and running down his legs. It was soft and sticky with cum. It should have been gross, but you loved how it was evidence of your love making. Simultaneously the bark around your aching, bruised wrists dissolved, which allowed you to wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your hands into the long black hair that run to his shoulders. "You know I love you. I truly do wish to have a family."

"Maybe it'll work this time. If not we can always keep trying." His forehead pressed against yours, "Hey, even if we can't I won't think less of you. You're the love of my life. And it's not like you see couples like us in nature a lot."

"Nature is supposed to bend to my will. At least in here." His nose brushed against yours, "Let me carry you home."

"Okay. But don't pull out yet. I'm comfy." He chuckled at your cuddly nature. He shared it, so he couldn't blame you. When he walked with you he left new flowers everywhere his foot stepped.

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