Tumgik
#but enough people failed that she made it so we could come in today and fix it. thing is she sent that out online and I didn’t see it
theemporium · 2 months
Note
Could you possibly write something for Nico where he dates shy reader and he is all lovey dovey with her post game win when they celebrate together? Perhaps she wears his jersey? Thank you for considering. 🫶🏻
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to support Nico, it was more so the fact the games were a lot more intense and intimidating when you were in person.
You watched every game without fail, though usually it was from the comfort of your own couch whilst you were buried in one of his hoodies. And despite what people assumed, he didn’t mind. He knew you supported him. He knew that the second the game was over, you would be on the phone to him to tell him exactly what you thought of the game, always complementing the way he played regardless of whether the Devils won or lost.
And he knew games in person weren’t really your thing. You didn’t like the attention of being sat by the glass and, even though you got along with the other players’ families and friends, it still felt a little intense to be in a suite with them for the whole game. You didn’t like the pressure of having to keep up friendly small talk during the game, but Nico knew you would because you would have felt bad otherwise. 
So, in all honesty, he didn’t mind that you didn’t go to his games. 
But there was something that made his heart want to burst out of his chest on the games you did attend in person. 
“Fuck you, Panthers!” 
Nico huffed out a laugh, shaking his head at Jack’s antics. The boy was already one too many drinks deep into their post-game celebration after—by some miraculous turn of events—thrashing the Panthers on Jersey soil with a buzzing 6-1. 
“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” Nico teased, but the boy didn’t care as he grinned widely at his captain. 
“Give it a break, Cap, go back to making heart eyes at your girl!” Jack snickered, wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you. He didn’t think Nico had let go of you since he had stepped out of the locker room. “We fucking broke the streak! We are allowed to celebrate!”
“Let him have his fun,” you said, your arms tightening to gain your boyfriend’s attention as he tore his eyes away from Jack to look down at you. His gaze softened in an instant and it made your stomach erupt with butterflies. “You all deserve to celebrate the win after the rough streak.” 
“Hm, maybe we won because you were here,” Nico teased, though there was a sincerity in his words that made you think he truly believed his own words. “Wanna come to Montreal with us?”
You snorted, shaking your head. “Today was all you, I had nothing to do with it.”
“I don’t know about that,” Nico said with a massive smile on his lips as his fingers playfully tugged on the hem of the jersey you were wearing. “We lost the last five games until my girl walked in with her lucky jersey on. I think that’s all the proof we need.”
Your cheeks burned as you glanced down at the lucky jersey in question. It was an old jersey of his, maybe one from a year or two ago. He had given it to you near the start of your relationship, when he was leaving for his first roadie since you started seeing each other. You joked about buying some Devils merch to support him whilst you watched the games and he had handed you the jersey the night before he left. You wore it for every game you watched—or at least, you tried to. 
This had been the first game in a while you had worn it since you lost it in the process of moving apartments with Nico, into an apartment big enough for the two of you.
“You hockey players and your superstitions,” you murmured, tucking your chin against your chest to hide how flushed ‘my girl’ made you.
But Nico was one step ahead of you as his hands moved to cup your cheeks, lifting your head until he could look down at your flustered face with a soft smile. “I heard kissing the captain after a win gives the team good luck for their next.”
You laughed and his expression brightened. “Yeah?”
“Mhm, an old hockey legend,” Nico nodded. 
“Well, you gotta kiss him now!” Jack exclaimed from the other side of the table. “We need the luck!”
You laughed harder as you wrapped your arms around his waist once again and grinned up at him. “I think I can get behind that superstition.”
And Nico barely gave you a chance to finish your sentence before he leaned down to kiss you, his smile pressed against yours.
.
408 notes · View notes
jhuzen · 10 months
Text
married life [m.reader]
this is me taking the first step in creating the househusband hcs of our tall hsr men for us gays and bi kings. happy pride ansismdkf (i mean to say that also in haitham’s post bUT OH WELL). anyway, i still hate luocha. otto trauma so true so real (honestly, his only saving grace in mhy games is ayato because he’s not blond). today, we have ourselves some househusbands.
𖦹 househusband hcs with gepard, sampo, jing yuan, blade, dan heng, caelus and old man welt, no luocha but i’m open to be convinced why i should start loving him, mostly fluff, domestic stuff, modern au though… aren’t they more modern if they can travel the space? huh. normal world au then. forgot to add that ceo reader is implied
GEPARD LANDAU
Tumblr media
He’s a very reluctant househusband at first, actually. He’s one who firmly believes that relationships are a team effort (and they are and should be), and thinks that it wouldn’t hurt for the both of you to work together. Of course, you encourage him regardless, and with both of your career-oriented selves, you were basically the couple that could foster a ten or so children and still be financially sound.
Serval is the one who convinced Gepard to lay low a little in his job and relax for once. You’re making a decent income a month — enough for you to be the only one working and still have a comfortable life together.
You have to thank your sister-in-law and her craftiness. She wasn’t Gepard’s sister for nothing. She knew your husband more than anyone and knew that he was too down bad to even refuse in entertaining the thought of not taking care of you. All she had to do was do a little convincing.
“If I were [Name], I sure wouldn’t mind coming home to a nice meal like this every night,” she’d muse with a hum while she ate off of Gepard’s cooking. He came home early that one night and thought to surprise you. Of course, Serval just had to taste test since she’s looking out for you, her beloved brother-in-law. “Also wouldn’t mind being taken care of by my own spouse…”
Gepard quickly folded. What if his sister was right and you wanted that kind of life? But it’s not like he also wants to quit his job just like that. So he made a gradual decrease in work until he can finally have a schedule that can commit as a househusband and occasionally help when he’s needed at work as a consultant.
Your beloved husband is a bit mid from the start — basic in cooking, in chores, but it’s his perseverance that pushes him up to S-tier househusband status. He will really go out of his way to learn recipes that you suddenly brought up in the middle of a conversation and will execute it to the highest standards. He will become a lot more meticulous in his chores around the house.
If he can, he’s definitely the type to drop by and join you in lunch. He’s a lot more free now, and if there’s nothing else to do in the house, he’ll take some lunch and go to where you work and just eat lunch together. Everyone is looking at the windows of your own office in envy while they watched you get spoon fed by your cute husband (they don’t know how embarrassed Gepard is since you technically just coerced him to feed you so people can see you on purpose).
So very attentive to you. He wakes you up early (even earlier if you have meetings where you have to discuss things to be extra prepared) for work. Your lunch is just top tier, but the plating is too cute — with the slightly uneven shapes to create cute animals. He’s the kind to even put a note in your packed lunch every time without fail.
He knows how hard you work and only wants the best for you. And when you recognize his efforts, he’s quick to get flustered from your compliments. He will fold like a wet cardboard. He’s too weak.
“Dear, please,” you could only laugh at your beloved’s winsome attitude. Currently pressed against the marbled counter of the kitchen, you can only shower him in a plethora of love-filled kisses as you expressed your unending gratitude. Your lips left tiny pecks from his cheeks down to his neck, only serving to fluster him even more.
You pulled back but not before leaving another quick kiss on his nose, “What’s got you all knotted up, love? No one’s watching.” You cooed, leaving your poor husband whining at the thought of earlier — when you so cruelly asked him to feed you in front of your subordinates while you busily ‘worked’ on your projects.
But somehow even with the unbridled embarrassment that you brought to him, Gepard couldn’t help but feel the elation engulf his entirety at the prospect of you showing him off in your own mischievous ways. Even with your busy schedule, you were more than willing to let him come inside your work and take the time off just to let him join you for lunch. He’d already heard enough drama around the neighborhood to be grateful that you can still balance your work with your marriage.
He was grateful to have you as his partner for life. And even then, he wouldn’t mind having to visit you just to feed you. It was certainly a rare thing that he’s heard partners would suggest, so to be given a privilege as seeing you everyday at work was something he would cherish more than ever.
A kiss on his temple knocked his fleeting thoughts off the rail and pulled him back to reality, blinking at your curious smile, “…Shield for your thoughts?” You inquired with a gentle tone, eager to pry just what has got your husband so spacey all of a sudden.
He only grinned before pulling you in for a proper kiss and murmured against your lips, “Just thanking my lucky stars for having you as my husband.”
Now it was your turn to be flustered.
𐂂
SAMPO KOSKI
Tumblr media
Your friends still think you’re a legend for even managing to wife up the untamable Sampo. But somehow, you pulled him in and he was more than willing to be a househusband. For more reasons than one.
But let’s get out the pinnacle of his reasons out of the way — it being, him living so comfortably? Financially supported by a handsome guy like you? Sign him up. He’s more than willing to take care of you while you take care of him. He’s a sleazy guy, after all. Wouldn’t wanna get married to a broke man. Kidding.
Anyway, he mostly sells the story of getting married just for benefits for laughs. But really, you’ve somehow managed to actually trap him as a prisoner of love. He’s a huge simp for you and actually considers your high-end job a bonus. A really good bonus. But other than that, you’ve got Sampo completely wrapped around your finger. And he’s a very eager househusband.
A surprisingly good househusband. He’s meticulous in his work and can cook. But what really sells him is how well he can budget and actively get discounts just by smooth talking the vendors in the market. You once went with him, telling him to go nuts and buy everything that he needs, and you came home with only just a good half of your money spent. He was scarily good and from then on, you made an oath to take notes from your husband’s amazing haggling skills.
He’s a very resourceful man. If you need anything, he’s there to lend a hand. He’s always there to fix equipments that break down. Really, you rarely get issues with the things at home, because the moment he senses that there’s something wrong, he’s already on the case. Your husband is a jack of all trades.
All he requires is a small fee of some attention and loving from you. Seriously, he will mope around and will let you know that he’s upset that you forgot to give him a goodbye kiss earlier when you left for work.
You wake up much earlier than he does, but please wake him up. He wants to cook you breakfast and see you off like a loving househusband that he is. He will sulk if you so much as even think of leaving him without waking him up. He’s a big drama queen and unless you make up for it once you get home, he will continue to walk around the house with a pout on his face.
The only way to make this man completely crumble underneath you is to spoil him. He’s working so hard with the upkeep of your shared home! If you take him out on surprise date nights, he will melt. Shower him with lavish gifts from all the money you saved up, courtesy of Sampo’s extreme bargaining. He will latch onto your arm the entire night like your pretty little arm candy (even if he’s taller than you).
Oh, right. You will get sudden visits from Natasha or even Seele and Oleg, just to check up on your married life. They’re mostly just there to whack some sense into Sampo if he’s being difficult to you. Suffice to say, they’re always surprised when they come visit your homely abode that’s clean and has a refreshing atmosphere. Seele plugs her ears every time you say it’s all because of Sampo that your house is even remotely presentable. She’s in denial.
It was a grueling day, leaving you completely vulnerable to the throes of exhaustion. You ought to take some vacation days, maybe go on a different country with your husband for a treat. Surely, he’d like that. You noticed he’s been working just as hard as you at home. Speaking of which — the reason for your home’s unfamiliar silence was in fact the lack of singing from your lively husband. You were so used to hearing his voice that the silence felt incredibly deafening when you were alone.
“Love? You home?” You called out, glancing at the shoe rack by the door to see his outdoor shoes in the same place and the indoor shoes missing. He’s here. You pursed your lips, brushing off the peculiarity and headed to the joint dining room and kitchen, seeing a nice still hot meal sitting on a nice plate. But it was the only thing on the table, no other plates or even a husband waiting on you with a smile. You peered at the food to see a card beside the plate, scribbled with a sad face.
“…What.” You sat the card back down before finally poking your head in the living room, seeing your husband watching another sad show while screwing in some panel from what you can only guess a part of your heater. You sauntered up from behind him, before grabbing his face and tilting his head up to meet your gaze.
He made no noise and had it not been for his evident pout, you would’ve only been left wondering what you did to make him so sulky again. You sighed before leaning to press a kiss against your lips. You could feel him finally smile against the kiss.
“So you still love me?” He asked, insinuating that you felt otherwise for not even giving him a kiss goodbye earlier.
“Not like I have a choice,” was your only cheeky response.
“Wha— Hey!”
𐂂
JING YUAN
Tumblr media
Out of everyone, he is probably the most eager one to be a househusband. He is so ready to retire. He’s been moaning about it at work constantly, about how he’s just ready to settle in somewhere nice and be taken care of. And when you decided to finally tie the knot with him, you didn’t even have to ask twice, that man is already turning in his resignation and is already making your shared home even cozier than ever.
He’s a very languid man, but that does not mean he’s going to flake out on chores. He can do them all efficiently just for the sake of getting them out of the way so he can keep relaxing after. That, and of course making sure that you come home to a clean home. Aeons know how stressful it is to come home from work and seeing your own home completely cluttered. Jing Yuan has suffered the same thing before he met you.
Jing Yuan loves you through his cooking other than sleeping in with you. He creates the greatest dishes for you. Often are you eating your lunch with so much pride. Your subordinates would come inside your office during lunchtime to pass some papers and they would see you just completely enjoying life with your husband’s cooking.
He likes to greet you with a nice warm meal after your work. And he’d just watch you eat his meals with a fond smile while you continue to talk about each of your days with each other. Of course, occasionally, he’d open his mouth and you would have to feed him as well. Yanqing would sometimes come home to such a sight and never has he seen a more domestic scene than before.
Another one of his much favored ways to show his love is through after work massages. You’d come home and be completely smothered with love just by his touches. Sometimes he’d give you a nice neck and shoulder massage while you’re eating and talking about your day. Or you could both be lounging on the sofa and he would absentmindedly massage your overworked hands.
However his most favored time spent with you is when you’re on a day off and that he would successfully persuade you into staying a little bit longer in bed with him. Just sleep until the afternoon, with limbs tangled against one another. He loves spooning his husband that takes care of him so dearly. Just feeling your back pressed against his chest while he’s nuzzling his nose into the nape of your neck. Bliss. Utter bliss.
The two of you scream old married couple. Just two old geezers enjoying their lives. It’s really such a relaxing relationship. Being married to Jing Yuan is like a vacation from your problems and him being married to you is an adventure without the nauseating exhaustion.
Yanqing is inadvertently your child the moment you got married to your husband. And suffice to say, you were far more content in your life than you could ever imagine. Never have you felt the genuine happiness swell within you the moment you came home to the two of them cooking together. You still have a slightly motion blurred picture in your phone and neither of them know about it.
Overall the most chill househusband. But even in his passivity, you can feel the radiating warmth of love for you. He just… loves you so much that he’s more than willing to take care of you and the little family that you and him have created. He will wait for you by the door with his half-lidded gaze completely fixated on you with so much adoration. He’s lucky to have you.
You were used to the hectic mornings you often faced upon waking up. It was always a rush job in the morning, speeding through all your morning routine before finally leaving for work. But today was not that day. You could tell from the way the sunlight hit your eyelids. You always left just before the sun could even come up, but right now, you had other plans.
You wanted to prepare a nice breakfast for your husband. He had been working so hard all the time, taking care of you and Yanqing with no days off unlike you. You figured you could get the day started and surprise the both of them with some of your cooking prowess. Suddenly filled with the motivation, you sat up, ready to face the first hour of your time off work for a few days.
However, your plans were soon foiled when a strong arm hooked around your waist and immediately pulled you back down on the bed without even breaking a sweat. You sighed, looking off to the side to see one golden eye peering at you sleepily. Lips turning up into a smile, you shifted to fully face him.
“Can’t even let me make you some breakfast in bed, huh?” You teased with the same fondness as the very first day you and him got married.
A quiet grunt was all your lover gave, only to follow it up with his own gruff response a minute later, “While that sounds nice, I believe I can also reap benefits just from canoodling with my husband for let’s say… until the afternoon.”
Your hands were tied at that point, and with one last charming smile from your dozing husband, you dove into his arms, letting him press some kisses on your face before falling asleep, with you following after.
𐂂
BLADE
Tumblr media
No one in this world knows how you managed to charm and marry Blade in the first place. Even his family considers you a miracle worker for bagging the hard to get man. You could only reminisce of the times he would give you the cold shoulder when you tried to ask him out. You were cringe but Blade somehow liked it.
Regardless, he’s one of the reluctant househusbands at first. Blade doesn’t like the feeling of not going out and making money like you. He believes that as long as he can, he will contribute to this relationship. It’s really adorable. And you were supportive of what he wants, but when he realized no one can take care of you while you’re busy being the breadwinner, he decided that he’ll take one for the team and take care of everything in the house instead.
He is meticulous in cleaning. Your house is always sparkling clean the moment you arrive at home. He’s constantly on the hunt for any dust that could taint your shared humble abode. He once read that an unclean house can cause sickness to the occupants, and he has never let a single dust touch a furniture ever since then. Your health is his priority and he will do everything in his power to keep you healthy.
You know what? Screw it, he wears his apron without a care too. He goes out of the house in a pink frilly apron you gifted him as a silly little joke and he’s not ashamed of it. Even Kafka’s incessant teasing isn’t enough to deter him from wearing it. You gave it to him and he loves it. That’s all that matters.
Surprisingly loved by your neighbors. In contrast to his gloomy disposition, he’s always seen around the market and with people’s tendency to draw closer to mysterious handsome men like him, let’s just say he’s managed to unintentionally charm your neighbors. Everyone calls you lucky for getting him, everyone calls him lucky for having a good husband that provides.
Really, he cares so little about the money you make. All he needs is your love and attention. It is imperative that you give him calls on certain times of the day, let him know that you’re still alive at the very least. It’s not like you can’t make do on such a promise either, you loved calling him just to take a break from work for a little while. Even just hearing his quiet grunts of agreement while you gossiped about your subordinates was enough.
He wakes you up… like really early. Super early. Like at least a few hours before you call in for work. His reason? To get enough time with you before you go to work. It’s adorable. You two could be just lounging at the balcony, sipping coffee or tea while you both watch the sunrise.
Speaking of which, with him comes a package. His aforementioned family. Kafka and Silver Wolf’s visits are a must. They are a part of him and now they are a part of you. Kafka could be dropping by just to chat and gossip with you (somehow both of you know a lot about people’s own businesses) or Silver Wolf would just barge in and hog all your game systems (she says no one plays them since you’re both old men so she gets the privilege). Either way you’re already used to it, and one guest room is always at the ready.
Getting married to Blade is honestly the best thing you’ve ever done in your life. You still don’t know how you pulled him, but with him resting on you while the both of you watched shows, showing you his vulnerability tells you that doing so is not an accident or a mistake.
“…Would it kill you to step back a little? It’s hard to cook.”
“But you’re so warm. So soft… so…”
Quite possibly out of all the forms of affections that you’ve expressed towards him, Blade finds your nosy hands cupping around his chest from under his clothes the least practical. Especially when you’re doing it while he’s cooking your breakfast before you’re off for work.
He flipped the omelet with ease despite his claims of difficulty just seconds ago. Of course, it wasn’t as hard when he’s standing still. But on times where he had to go get some things, you in your sleepy daze had to trudge behind him like a shadow just to persistently warm your incredibly cold hands.
Regardless, other than the difficulty in moving, Blade finds it even harder not to burn the kitchen down as his concentration dwindled with every kiss you pressed against his neck, unrelenting and incredibly soft, so filled with love in every individual peck that met his skin. His face turned a rather dark shade of scarlet while you busied yourself with him.
“Keep this up and you’re going to be late.”
“At least it’s extra time with you~” you cooed.
Blade only sighed before leaning against your back, using his free hand to softly knock into the side of your head as his form of half-assed discipline.
Well. Maybe he wouldn’t mind that extra time too.
𐂂
DAN HENG
Tumblr media
He’s not so much as a reluctant househusband. In fact, he relishes in the idea of just staying home and doing his work there. He likes the comfort of being able to sit things out for once after having to look after his two gremlins for friends. However, he does want to make sure that you’re always safe when you’re working.
After a lot of reassurances, he finally decides that you can handle your own. He will compensate for it by taking an extremely good care of you and your shared home. And this man does not play around. He’s sort of like Blade, excelling at everything that needs to be done not just because, but it’s to keep you safe. He cooks you healthy meals and scrubs any dirt off the face of the world.
Easily one of the greatest househusbands in the list. Dan Heng has the right temperament and while he’s often aloof to most people, when it comes to you, you could already feel how he seems more lenient, a little softer on you.
He does all his work efficiently to get them over with as fast and as best as he can so he can have time to visit you in your work. If he knows he has time, count on your beloved husband to come and bring you some freshly cooked lunch in your office. Almost everyone in your company already knows who he is. He’s the elusive husband of the big boss, coming in just to bring you some lunch.
Speaking of which, might wanna keep your subordinates in check. Dan Heng is a looker, and the fact that he’s just as considerate, combined with his mysterious nature, people are bound to be more attracted to him. Though honestly, none of their little admiration could measure up to Dan Heng’s love for you.
In his eyes, you are the only one important, right next to his own family with Himeko and the rest. And he will do all that he can to make sure that you’re alright in any aspect of your life. However even with that dedication, it’s also your job to keep him intact. He focuses so much on you that he sometimes forgets to wind down.
Taking him out on something with a serene atmosphere usually does the trick. Bring tons of books to entertain yourselves, and if the stories get too old, you chat about things you have yet to tell each other. Dan Heng really appreciates the effort you put in, investing your time in him despite the fact that you’re running a conglomerate, but even then just a little gesture from you is enough for him to know how grateful you are for his own efforts as well.
Old married couple 2.0. March said so herself when she decided to barge into your home to show you her pictures from her recent travels. She and the raccoon are tied at the tally of visits. Often they just crash just to make sure Dan Heng hasn’t driven you insane yet with his very… unromantic nature. Safe to say March still couldn’t believe that dear old Dan Heng was the first to pop the question in tying the knot.
Speaking of unromantic, your husband does come off as one, often giving you practical solutions than giving you any words of comfort when you’re stressed. And perhaps it’s because you understood that’s his way of romancing you that you and him ended up married in the first place.
Exhaustion was more of a friend than a foe after having to bury yourself in the tower stacks of paperwork. It’s times like these that you had to wonder if running the family company is even worth it.
“I’m too tired to driiiiive,” you whined, looking at the spreadsheets in exasperation.
And as if he had a sixth sense, a knock on your door was heard and you gave the green light with little regard for the person behind the door. You then looked up and almost cried at the sight of your beautiful husband, with two coffees in hand.
“Come on, I’ll take you home,” it was all he had to say to prompt what little motivation you had left in your system, letting your sluggish self spring back to life. You bound to him with a grateful smile on your face and greeted him with an embrace.
You took one cup from him and graced him with a kiss on his cheek, “Hang on, let me get some take home work. I need to at least finish a good third of this.”
Your poor husband was a lot more worried than he could let on with his stoic face — seeing you on the ropes, completely hard at work and barely functioning at the sheer exhaustion was almost enough to tempt him into stopping you from bringing home your work. Alas, he supported you regardless and only thought to compensate for your extra work with an even better dinner.
“Anything you want for tonight?” He asked, thoughtful as always.
“Mmm… chicken fried rice?”
“Chicken fried rice it is.”
𐂂
CAELUS
Tumblr media
Not a single soul expected for this man to get married. Everyone thought he’d just end up on the streets willingly, constantly rummaging through trash can after trash can, falling in love with one and settling down with it in his own odd way. Surprise surprise, he is now a househusband that digs through the high end trash cans placed inside your shared home.
Quite frankly, if Caelus was being honest, he also did not expect to trip into you and quite literally fall in love. And for you to reciprocate it. He always thought you two were just the best of friends, with you supporting his hobbies with little to no judgment. So imagine his surprise that he keeps feeling every time he wakes up right next to you (and right next to his five foot pillow of a trashcan, but it’s a separate affair on its own).
Moving aside your husband’s very odd addiction of living the life of a trash panda, Caelus is actually a pretty decent househusband. His specialities are mostly the meals he makes for you. They’re always so delicious and is often the highlight of your day even without him around.
He’s very active around the neighborhood and is always armed with the latest news around town. The other stay at home spouses love him. And you were quite surprised to find out that he’s far more connected in the very place you both live in than you could ever be. When you’re free, you’d sometimes accompany him to the market and somehow end up staying very late because a lot of people recognize him and seem to want to chat with him.
Caelus parades you around as his beloved husband and people are just dropping jaws when they realize you have definitely been interviewed in one of those famous magazines about businesses and all that jazz.
Surprisingly, just like Sampo, Caelus is your man when it comes to spending wisely and learning how to haggle. He knows his way around almost everything and even you couldn’t help but be proud of yourself of fishing out such a dashing man that is wise in finances. Good man, honestly.
One fact about him that you like are his skills in caring for children. There’s something so wonderfully domestic whenever you would come home early and see him playing with the children — Hook and Clara, if you can recall. He’s mostly just babysitting for them on days that he’s not completely hammered to death with housework.
His favorite thing to do with you is grocery shopping at night. Just the two of you cruising around every aisle, more often than not, you’d push the cart with him in it getting gradually buried by every item you decided to purchase. It’s a good way to spend some time together while getting something productive done. And perhaps coax you into buying a little more food than you and him intended in the first place. Dan Heng always advices you not to be too swayed by your husband antics… but it’s clearly not working.
Caelus is a silly little man, with his weird eccentric jokes and his equally strange fascination for all things related to trash cans. But it’s probably because of this that you found yourself enamored. He is your respite in the suffocating world of your workforce. He pushes you in situations you never thought would be fun unless he was with you.
“If you loved me, you would’ve gotten ten more boxes of cookies.”
“And if you loved me, you wouldn’t be willingly burying yourself in that cart instead of helping me pick between chocolate or strawberry milk.” You quipped back with a snarky grin, not even bothering to look at your childish husband who continued to be sprawled out in the cart at ten in the evening while you shopped.
Caelus pouted, you always did make good points. It’s why he could never win an argument against you. Or maybe he could… if he wasn’t so completely smitten at the sight of you. You were always seen as the dignified boss of your company, dressed in three piece suits that could suffocate anyone and their wallet.
But here you were, dressed in a loose shirt (likely one of his just judging from the fit) and some pair of joggers that you haphazardly threw on.
Absolutely breathtaking.
He lent out a hand to reach for the carton of flavored milk that you finally chose, adding it onto the pile. He waited until you were at the end of the cart, getting ready to muscle your way through pushing an incredibly heavy cart, courtesy of your husband.
Caelus looked up at you, “Don’t I at least get a kiss for helping out?”
“Cae, I’m dying from pushing you. How ‘bout we entertain that incentive once you got out of the cart and started helping me, hm?”
Maybe he’s just a simp, but how could he deny his demanding husband���s whims?
𐂂
WELT YANG
Tumblr media
This old man is the definition of a reluctant retiree. Well, it’s not actually a retirement for him. He still gets to be the voice of reason, only that he won’t actually personally animating. Who’s to blame? You. To be accurate, this old man officially decided to step down from his hands-on job as an animator so he can be a househusband. You’re a priority after all, and only the heavens know how bad you need to be taken care of.
Welt joins the ranks of a godly househusband. He knows his way around almost every single thing that needs to get fixed. His cooking? Top tier. His housework game? Absolute perfection. Floors are swept, counters are wiped and dusted, sheets and clothes are washed and pressed. He is perfect.
And on top of that, he still manages to balance his work from home as the consultant for any new anime that is about to be produced and can still care for you without even breaking a sweat. Old man Welt is always pulling through.
So let’s get this out of the way — actual old married couple. Not just vibes. You two are old men who look at the screen with squinted eyes. Well, only Welt does that while you laugh at him and then proceed to forget where you placed your own phone despite being on it just a few minutes ago.
Regardless, you live a much more balanced life, just two husbands cruising through life with little worries. You live on a good neighborhood, living comfortably and get a lot of visits from yours and Welt’s friends/family. Most of which are from the trio and Himeko. You and Welt always host these family dinners on weekends where everyone is free. Life is good.
However despite all the glamour of living a comfortable life in this marriage, there is one glaring difference between you and Welt — mostly it’s the fact that you have worse time management than he does and often gets the short end of the stick, always pummeled to death with your paperwork that could leave anyone in a fit of raw despair. Welt looked at your work the one time you left to answer a phone call from office and shuddered at the heavy load.
Welt is essentially your clock when it’s time to unwind from work. You have a tendency to overwork at times and it’s something that Welt always makes sure to keep an eye out for. He just wants what’s best for you, and oftentimes, what’s best is for you is to finally get some shuteye after suffering through another overnight that you pulled.
Also, there is an unspoken rule of not letting any man with long blonde hair inside your home. It’s just a house rule. The top of all other house rules in fact, as it takes the most priority in fulfilling.
Regardless, Welt is so… househusband-shaped. He knows what to do as one and does a damn good execution of it all. Maybe it’s because of his compassionate self that you were quick to fall for the old man. He didn’t even have to try and show off, all he had to do was be himself and you’d still give him the world with every penny you’ve earned from your job.
A taut frown tugged onto Welt’s lips as he squinted on the labels from the spices that Himeko sent from her recent overseas trip. Not that he didn’t trust his good friend’s tastes in any form of flavor, it’s only that he wanted to make sure none of it had any ingredient that could probably send you into an anaphylactic shock. Yes, he is this meticulous when it comes to you.
Alas, his cautiousness grants no extra clear sight in viewing the labels and he struggled, holding them in different proximities. Are the characters really that small intentionally or are they so incoherent because they manufacturers made an error in the sizing the font before printing it on the packaging.
Fortunately for him, you came into the rescue as you plucked the packaging from his hands. Welt didn’t need to look up to see the same smug smile plastered on your face whenever you’d catch him doing the same thing to his phone. Well, he loved looking at you so he did it nonetheless.
“Having trouble again, old man?” You teased and Welt only had to sigh in response. “Is this from Himeko’s package?”
Your endeared husband nodded, “Of course. I had to see what else she gave us. And I’m looking over the ingredients so I can keep you out of the hospital as best as I can.” He turned to the stove and lowered the heat. “Now kindly read it for me, dear.”
You only nodded, flipping over the packet, “Sure thing.”
There was a silence that followed, with Welt expecting you to run your mouth about the ingredients already. He looked back to you…
…And saw you squinting at the same bundle of text that he’s been staring at.
Welt scoffed, playful and light in nature, “And you call me old.”
“It’s the manufacturer’s fault…!!”
1K notes · View notes
bu-blegh-ost · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
The time has finally come, @girlsonlytreehouse !!!
Today I shall share with you the fruits of my work. But first, allow me to take you on a journey I myself have been through while counting all of this shit down.
First things first, I decided to count the rolls in the context of the characters rather than the people playing them, simply because the luck of the actual people could not be measured accurately if I only take Riptide into consideration (and also I thought it would be more fun). The guys have several different campaigns, some that I do not have access to, so I've decided to seperate all their Riptide rolls into characters they play instead, cause then we can clearly see which character is the luckiest. But ofc if you want this to be attributed differently, the data remains unchanged, so that way you all can interpret the results however you wanted and still have all the info you need on hand.
Another issue were the advantage/disadvantage rolls. When a character rolls at advantage, they roll twice and the only roll that counts is the one that was higher, while the other is discarded and the opposite goes for disadvantage. So for example if you roll at Disadvantage and you roll a nat 20 and a 2, that nat 20 technically doesn't matter. Despite that I decided to count each adv/disadv roll anyway, because despite the fact that it does not count, it was still physically ROLLED, which means it contributes to the character's overall pool of luck. I tried to separate them at first so you guys can make your own decision whether to add them or not, but in the end I decided against it cause it was insanely hard to keep up with. There were just too many and too often, which led me to believe that it was fair enough to count everything as long as they actually rolled a dice.
Which brings me to the last complication, which is of course Gillion's Prophetic Screwup. At the beginning of the campaign Gillion was able to exchange anything that he actually rolled into a nat 20, and in return the DM can change any roll he does afterwards into a nat 1. That way there was supposed to be an equal number of wild unrolled nat 20's and nat 1's to balance Gillion out back to 0, but it didn't turn out this way. In more cases than not, Grizzly would either forget or fail to find a good place to screw Gillion over, so the ability bacame much too unbalanced. So they changed it somwhere in the middle of Edison Kingdom Arc. From then on, if Gill rolled anything from 1-10 it would automatically become a nat 1, and if he rolled from 11-20, that'd be a nat 20 instead. Either way these rolls had nothing to do with luck, as he wasn't actually rolling anything, thus I decided not to count these 'artificial' nat 20's/1's. However I did keep track of them nonetheless and I'll still give you the number of those, just separately, and from then on you guys can make your own decision on whether or not you wish to count it.
OOOFFF ALRIGHT.
Without further ado, here are the nat 20's results (up to ep106):
Gillion: 52
Chip: 58
Jay: 55
Goobleck: 8
Surprised? Yeah I was as well. First things first I never expected this to be this close. And never in my right mind could I possibly predict that it would he CHIP of all people to have the highest score here. But I've seen it with my own eyes. And tell you what. Jay had this in the bag for most of the damn series. She would consistently roll good and always when you need a good roll the most. There were times when she would have such a massive lead it was unthinkable she could loose it. But then she would just kinda...stop rolling good for a bit and allow the other two to catch up. It just wasn't as visble if you don't pay much attention, but I thought it to be cute. It's as she was waiting for them <3 But she was still mostly leading. It was only the current arc that made Chip surpass her. After his terrible luck in Feywilde, he bounced back so strongly right after, that he managed to jump in front of the luck queen herself.
And now I bet you're curious about the other side of the coin. Give it up for natural 1's!:
Gillion: 55
Chip: 53
Jay: 52
Goobleck: 1
You see, I kind of expected it to be Gill, but I need you guys to know that this wasn't the case at all times. Jay? Yes. If there is one thing that's consistent is that she had the lowest amount of natural 1s at all times almost, but the person that was suffering from nat 1 curse for a long while was Chip. In the Feywilde Arc he would be so far ahead of everyone, that I was genuinely sure that there is no way anyone catches up to him. But then he popped off in the next arc with nat 20's and Gillion? Oh my gosh, Gillion didn't disappoint. I've never seen a man fail this much let me tell you XD He ended up with the least nat 20's as well, but I thought the difference would be much higher until he didn't roll 4 fucking nat 20s in ep 100 and then this double nat 20 attack roll in the Black Sea whduihdius AND HE CAUGHT UP AS WELL, more or less.
Idunno, maybe this is just how luck works, but it truly seems that the trio shares their successes and burdens almost equally. They support each other and in return fate has their backs as well. Honestly I couldn't have hoped for better results. Also can we give shout out to Goobleck, the true MVP? He's been on the show only for a while but look at this nat1 - nat20 ratio!!! Go goop man goo!!!
So now for the additional stuff that I also counted just for fun:
*Prophethic screwup nats:
Before the rules changed Gillion replaced 8 of his rolls into natural 20s, and in return Grizzly replaced 3 of his rolls into natural 1s.
After the rules changed he only got high enough number for 4 nat 20s, and a low enough number for 7 nat 1s.
So that together makes additional 12 nat 20s and 10 nat 1s from the prophetic screwup alone. I don't think they should be added, but the numbers are there so feel free to do whatever you want with them :)
Downs and death saves:
Throughout the campaign Gillion went down 14 times and rolled 8 death saves.
Chip went down 6 times and rolled 4 death saves.
Jay went down 4 times and rolled 3 death saves.
No shocker here, Gillion dies a lot XD
Knights:
In their journey Gillion knighted 4 people: Julien Booker, Clorton, Garrieth and Duke.
Corruption score:
Thus far each character has the following amount of corruption points (Black Sea):
Gillion: 0
Chip: 2
Jay: 3
Queen: 1
Gryffon: 2 (i think, unsure abt that one, may edit later XD)
Earl: 1
That is all I have for now. I may be clinically insane :)
Good day to everyone and I hope you found this data interesting. Take care <3
945 notes · View notes
lordgrimoire · 1 year
Text
The Amity Parkers
Inspired by This Post, which is long, read the many reblogs and tags and comments, it’s fun!
Tim was Ninety Percent Sure that he was going absolutely insane, granted it was a long time coming. Danny Fenton, his Chemistry teacher and Dash Baxter, his Phys Ed teacher? That was two people from the same practically non-existent town in Illinois, but add onto that the fact that even MORE people kept showing up in Gotham from sleepy little Amity Park and proceeded to either A:Thrive or B:Thrive but with the Energy of a Kryptonian having nonstop contact highs.
After his two teachers, or more accuratly before, there had been Jazz Fenton, a new Psychiatrist working in Gotham and making rather noticeable strides in things. Then arrived her brother and Baxter, who had applied roughly at the same time in the aftermath of a Rogue attack on the cities water treatment plant, and the floodgates seemed to less open more fly off the hinges as though breaching charges had been used. 
Now there were MORE people here, there was Tucker Foley, working at Wayne Enterprises as a coder and a damn terrifying one to boot, Sam Manson, an activist who ended up throwing Tim during one of his Red Robin patrols where he’d come across her “Protest Site” which had been a small park in The Narrows. Wes Weston, a cop, had been giving his coworkers and his Chem teacher NOTHING but grief, insisting that Fenton was doing “Something” wrong but never quite being able to get things to stick, upon further digging this had been a long running one sided rivalry. There was also a SECOND Psychiatrist, Paulina Sanchez, at Gotham Academy who was also from Amity Park, and her files were airtight, as Damian’s most recent hacking attempt and Tim’s own follow up had failed to breach her firewalls.
So, here Tim was, staring at Danielle “Dani/Ellie” Masters, Dr. Fenton’s CLONE and the Academies newest but also most feral teacher as she boxed the Joker hard enough for an audible crack to be heard from their classroom from where she was fighting the demented clown on the field. Baxter was still running his class as normal, though a bit further away, and Dr. Fenton was still teaching their class, while Tim was trying to get Extra Credit and vengeance on the Doctor through today’s extra credit task, making a tracker that could track Doctor Fenton for Twenty Four Hours. 
Why was he seeking vengeance you ask? Well given the fact that Jason brought Doctor Fenton to Family Dinner last week [with Alfred’s blessing] and had come in with the most gremlin-esque energy he’d seen from a Non-Rogue. Now don’t get Tim wrong, he likes Doctor Fenton, he may be demented as all get out but he was regularly making counters to drugs and toxins that seemed to just inhabit Gotham. BUT! Doctor Fenton and Jason had been so sickeningly cutes-y with each other at Dinner, like a couple of Birds of Paradise trying to one up each other.
Then of course was the “Story Time” where the two had teamed up to tell embarrassing stories, though Danny held back, a touch. It didn’t absolve him, especially with how he egged on Jason, which very much didn’t help the whole “I know you’re the Bats” situation. AND THEN! There was the fact that a majority of the Amity Parkers KNEW that they were the Bats, It was as though they had gone through this whole song and dance before, which given prior statements of Doctor Fenton having “Hung up the Cape” seemed to imply he used to be a hero in Amity Park, where your average joe could one on one a rank and file leaguer or at least give them a rough time.
The fact that a semester of training from Baxter and Fenton alone had made Tim’s year group capable of facing off with the JL  was a testament to that.
Speaking of which, some Junior Leaguers were coming to Gotham, if only for a place where they were not as “Strange”. Some of those moves may have been encouraged with the recent custody battle between Luthor against Vlad and Danielle Masters regarding Connor, who was a Copyrighted clone as it turns out, which had resulted  in Connor being made a ward of Danielle Masters, who had chewed Superman out HARD along with her Original, Doctor Danny Fenton himself.
Suffice to say, Clark did NOT get majority of Custody, and only got every third weekend, which was terrifying in Tim’s opinion that this small town mayor who was as wealthy as Luthor, had turned up, legally thrashed Luthor, and then given custody over to his daughter, thrashed SUPERMAN with KRYPTONIAN LAWS, and then gone back to Amity Park Illinois to resume his Mayor-ship there. The fact the town was essentially a self governing and self sufficient region  meant that the League was now VERY AWARE of it, and the fact that the League of Assassins had tried and FAILED multiple times to infiltrate the town, with more people going rogue than staying loyal, with only one out of nearly two hundred assassins returning to Nanda Parabat, critically wounded and very much insane.
In Tim’s opinion? Amity Park raised people similar too but far more prepared than Gothamites, for while Gothamites may have the Fight in their bones, Amity Parkers seem ready to back it up with experience, training, and life experience. 
But then again, Mr. Lancer had been an immigrant to Amity Park, and he was the blueprint of sorts for all of his students who had gone into teaching, much the same for how Batman was the Blueprint for all the other Bats.
____________________________________________
Tagging some Folks included in the Masterpost
@plotwholls @welcometosasakiworld @bonebrokebuddy @transsunmoonwizzard @omnicrafts @vala-dreams @fox-sama97 @tired-mom @kyrianclawraith @americano-psycho @mikami1992 @thecatchat @stealingyourbones @mutable-manifestation @britcision @dxrksong @kawaiikenna @mrowsters @the-gay-florist @thatgaydemigodnerd @0satellite0 @afanofmanyships @pencil-for-a-dog @any-mouse
1K notes · View notes
undercoverpena · 7 months
Text
xii. just say yes, just say there's nothing holding you back
javier peña x f!reader | chapter twelve of late night texts
Tumblr media
summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.
chapter warnings: the last chapter (before the epilogue), feel that needs to be a warning. two idiots pining for one another. fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. falling in love. idiots in love ✨ wordcount: 4.2k. (i did try to cut it down but she kept growing)
an: here we are. i have been a mess since finishing the draft of this and i hope it means as much to you, as it does to me. this marks the end of the current timeline for this pair (the epilogue will span snippets from their future, some of which i'd love to expand on later when i'm less emotional).
text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi
Tumblr media
Javi’s day begins like so many others.
Light bleeding into his room, the wind’s whispers pulling him from sleep, gently gesturing for him to wake and be one with them.
It does so in soft yellows and splashes of orange as his curtains puffed up and danced—casting playful shadows over the furniture and the clutter that make up his room.
If he could, he’d rather roll over—abandon responsibility and return to his dreams.
He doesn’t, and never will. A silent promise he’d made to himself when he returned—having opened his eyes to see how much slower his Pop was—to do the heavy lifting.
It’s why he slides his hand across his bedside table, fingers finding the edge of his phone—pinching the bridge of his nose. The soft glow makes his eyes sting as they squint. Usually, there’s nothing new, but he likes to read back on a few of your messages—it helping to start his day right. 
Today, though, he finds something already waiting for him.
Morning baby, dreamt of you last night.
He doesn’t mean to, but he closes his eyes. 
Allows his hand to glide up over his face. Palm flat, the part where it meets his wrist running over the curve of his nose, before resting lower, hiding the stupid, foolish grin you somehow manage to pull from him. The one you conjure without even being here. 
The effect you have on him makes him want to pinch himself. Almost does. Just a little one. A need to check he wasn’t dreaming—wasn’t lost somewhere in the most prolonged fantasy he’s ever experienced. 
He knows he isn’t from the way his alarm chirps, turning it off with a slam of his hand—returning his fingers to his face, sliding through the front of his hair. Quickly urging his brain to kick into gear, enough to respond at least.
But, the only conscious thought he has is: What good have you done to even deserve her?
It’s a continuous thought. One which runs on a loop in some distant corner of his brain. It there hiding in the shadows since Houston, since he had the chance to hold you, hear you whisper his name as he made you sing.
The thought had been louder since you’d told him you wanted to come to the ranch. It stands in the forefront, prominent, bold. It’s even made a home for itself at the foot of his bed this morning, holding a sign in the same writing your note to him was in: 
Do not fuck this up, Javier. 
As if he has any control over it.
Fucking up follows him, gravitates and slams into him. He knows he can count the times and run out of fingers when ‘fucking up’ has messed up his plans. His life. His future. A brief population of them arising in cloudy bubbles behind his eyes—ghostly faces of people he’s failed, the scenes from things he’s done, the hand he’s been dealt by choosing wrong—
Blinking them away, he swallows. Taking a breath, loosening the tightness of his chest. Returning his fingers to the keys, he focuses his attention back to you.
morning baby what you doing awake
In truth, he already knows. Knew before he’d managed to rub the sleep from his eyes with his thumb and index—but he asks all the same. 
For the confirmation; the routine of it all. Because, even if it has always been hard for him to keep, he likes that the two of you have that. That you both have fallen into this dance so easily, so normally.
When he’d been in Colombia, invited to dinners with Connie and Steve, he’d wondered how they did it. How they understood one another, moved in fluidity around one another. Spoke the same language, even without spilling any words. His mouth chewing his cheek, hand scraping across his chin—attempting to crack the puzzle in front of him.
Now he has the answer. It simple, more than he thought it could be. That it’s natural, not forced, not something you can make happen or choose.
It’s not even that early. Going over my notes, keep feeling like I’ve missed something.
He snorts because he knows you.
There’s not a thing you’d have missed. Too clever for that, too aware.
Closing his eyes for another second, Javi steals a second of the quiet, until he hears Pop moving around, sparking to life squeaky floorboards and groaning walls.
Tumblr media
It's rare that he has the chance to text you over his morning coffee.
The hour is usually not one where he finds you awake. Today, he likes that you are. A feeling swarming through his insides, doubling at the realisation that tomorrow you’ll be here in person.
He’ll get the chance to see you smile—the one that both warms a room and makes him feel like he’s arrived in heaven, all at once. A smile that makes it hard for him not to kiss it, savour the taste of it—feel you muffle out his name against it as you both will him to stop and clutch him closer.
you excited to be reunited with your jacket Mi chaqueta favorita y mi persona favorita. look at you learning quickly It’s easy when your professor promises you things if you do well. what does he promise hermosa Filthy things, Javi. sounds like hes rather inappropriate Oh he is. Asks me what underwear I'm wearing all the time. But he does have a great tongue, so it's worth i.
It’s hard to muffle his laugh.
A sound that he thinks the radio will have to compete with when you’re here, at the table—enjoying toast and coffee.
He’ll be lost in it, even if no one else is. Watching how your laugh shimmers across your face, witnessing the explosion of light that it brings. Like a firework, illuminating everything in its path.
Running his hand over his chin, he bites back a grin. One spawned from knowing he’ll have that in the next few days. You, in his home, laughing. It able to radiate and dance around his things and the things he’s always known.
Javi would have the chance to be able to touch you, pull you close by the legs of the chair, and bury his nose into your hair, smelling the sweetness of your shampoo, as he enjoys the feel of your giggle vibrating through your bones to his—the bass of it making his heart skip in his chest.
Fuck. He misses you.
It crawling up him, having softened him—scraped down and smoother over the hardened edges that the years of corruption and failure had created.
Licking his lips, he’s about to reply when he spots his Pop glancing at him over the top of the newspaper. Brow arched, half his face hidden, but Javi isn’t fucking stupid, he knows he’s grinning at him.
“What?”
“You okay, Javi? You’ve usually started by now?”
“Sí, lo sé. I’m going, Pop. Alright.”
Tumblr media
One of the earliest things Javi learnt was that you’re a planner, an organiser.
He was able to witness it in small doses in Houston. Even if you had tried to squirrel it away, hide 85 from him.
He supposed, from the thing you’ve told him, you had to be. Plus, he imagined—like his former profession—it was almost a requirement. A need for a roadmap always there, a backup plan just in case of extremes.
So, for how much planning the two of you (you, mainly) had done the first time, the second time, in comparison, seemed to be chaos. You mumbled dates, times. There was a rough, outlined plan that made even Javi feel unorganised. If anything, it would be better to call it a loose, barely even well-organised idea, never mind a plan.
He had asked—numerous times during your phone calls. 
Rather than helping him, your voice crooned down, begging for a clue instead, claiming, "We have days to talk about this, baby", but not many days to "Finish this crossword".
And fuck was he a slave to the way you whined his name when he interrupted the puzzle to ask something about dates, length of stay, and airport pick-up times.
Now, though, days is tomorrow—and Javi hasn’t got a fucking clue what he’s doing.
He’s aware he’s picking you up from somewhere, at an unknown time, with you on an unannounced flight.
But, the stress is mounting, beginning to grow, prickling and wrapping itself around his back.
He supposes the lack of a concrete plan is why it’s so easy for it to come apart. It fraying, all toyed and played with by his fingers and avoided by your own.
Because it was never much to begin with.
In your defence, you couldn’t have banked on Pop finally being able to book in his truck at the stop. The one which hadn’t sounded the same in a while, never mind acted like it—the one very much needing to be fixed if Javi was going to continue to have a good relationship with his father.
It’s why he knew it needed to be done. He just couldn’t wrap his head around why the universe would decide now was the time it would align it to be fixed. 
Selfishly, he had wanted to tell his Pop no when he’d interrupted him to tell him. Wanting to say they’d sort it once you’d gone back—because he needed his vehicle.
Because Javi knows the people in this town, and knows how the universe works when it involves him. The truck wouldn’t be in the shop 'just for today'—it would be days. It would bleed out and ruin his plans of showing you all the places he loves in his hometown. His Pop needing to run ‘small errands’—ones that never remained as such when they involved Chucho Peña.
He knows this because if they actually needed something urgently, he’d be the one sent. Just like when he was a kid, and his bike wheels cut through dirt and fields.
But he bit his tongue all the same, placing the keys in his Pop’s hand so he can do what it is he needs to do. His arms crossed over, gripping his biceps' backs as he watches the tow take away the truck.
Knowing deep down, once he had you here, he wouldn’t care if the truck was even in the state, as long as he had you.
“How many errands you runnin’ anyway?”
Adjusting his hat, his Pop gives him that look. The one which tells him he hasn’t got a clue and not to stress. A look he finds he despises more now, post-Colombia, than before. “Don’t worry, mijo. I’ll fill her up for you.”
Except he won’t.
His Pop always forgets something. Usually, the thing most essential. It's why, naturally, Javi had factored it into his new plan, the one he’d been scrambling together when he mucked out the stable. 
What he had yet to bank on was that someone above was laughing at each plan he made. His fresh, newly organised one came apart again, before he'd even begun to head back to the stables.
This time, in text form. Your message arriving, punching into the gentle breeze and sunny mid-morning.
Okay, I’m leaving the motel now, wish me more than luck because I need this.
His feet come to a standstill. Dust kicked up, swirling around his calves as he read your message once, twice—
Then, his stomach drops, not just to the floor, but out of his body. Exiting out of him so quickly, he’s sure the rest of his organs have whiplash from it vanishing so quickly.
Heat spreading, sweat building, his body suddenly being consumed by panic—its tendrils sliding around his ribs, pecking at his lungs and heart as he tries to steady his breath.
I thought it was tomorrow No, today, silly. when did you fly in Yesterday, I told you this. The interview is today.
He’s unsure if his fingers have ever typed so fast, sweat beading on his brow—damp on his palms. Because no, you didn’t. Which meant—
“Fuck.”
It rips from his throat and flutters over the field, his eyes squinting, head turned in the direction of his truck—the one being sparked to life. Tyres sounding in the gravel. His feet not quick enough, not enough to outrun a vehicle—
“Fuckin’ fuck.”
Tumblr media
youre gonna do amazing baby
I think I’m going to be sick. Which is normal right?
just try to breathe and remember that no one can do this job like you
I think the other people up for it would beg to differ, but I like how you support me.
tonight we’ll be celebrating
How are we planning on doing that?
i think i’ll buy you wine and then i’ll make your toes curl
Have to get the job first, Javi.
you will
And you’d need to know what time I’m arriving since you forgot it was today.
didnt forget baby
You handsome liar. I have to go, so we will resume this after I’ve gone and wowed them.
just be you. its how you wowed me
Tumblr media
Javi is panicking. 
His hand almost dropped the house phone on the last call, a cramp forming from ringing every place he suspected his Pop would visit. 
And, because this was him, none of them had seen him in days—never mind today. They all sweetly asked if he was okay, like he had time to kill—had the time to catch up and hear how their son wanted to be a detective or their daughter was single.
He knew he could have been more polite, could have been nicer to some of them. Imagining your face when he tells you, that soft way you say his name, almost full of judgement and disappointment, but not quite able to embrace it fully. 
When he replaces the handset, he swears. Fingers massaging the side of his temple, outwardly silent—but inwardly loudly—ticking, his feet taking him outside before he begins to pace. 
Usually, listening to the sounds of the wind in the trees helps.
Today, he's not sure anything can. Thoughts of you standing at the airport, sad, abandoned, feeling forgotten hammer against his skull. His chest tightens at the thought, guilt eating away at his insides as each little sound makes his head lift and his ears turn. 
But, Javi isn't able to move when he hears the noticeable sound of wheels in the gravel and dirt. Almost worried he'd made it up, dreamt it, until he hears the horn. 
His horn. 
Wiping his arm across his forehead, Javi takes strides out of the distance—it takes all of his willpower not to check his phone. Not repeatedly check it, anyway.
Because you’re being quiet. Again.
Have been for the last two and a bit hours.
Admittedly, he’s not sure how long these things take, but the gap between your last message and now has expanded to the point that worry has begun to set in. What if you’re waiting for him? His mind pulls at the doubts he's forced into the darkness. What if you’ve changed your mind? His thoughts attempting to run away from themselves. His fingers and muscles, tendons and bones flexing as he turns the corner of the back of the house.
The stress, panic and worry merge inside of him, all beginning to knot. Clumping. Mashing with the earlier excitement to create a concoction that makes want to vomit.
Mad at himself that he should have known something would happen. His gut instinct off, having been tricked by how lovely the morning was, future days lulling him into a false sense of security.
He should know better. Javi had become well acquainted with things going explosively wrong in Colombia. He’d just hoped he could have spared it from touching you, from tainting what the two of you have.
The dismay flickers down his legs as the soles of his boots crunch loudly against the ground, steps all heavy, weighted. Trying to focus on the usual dread he feels at whatever the fuck his Pop has brought back with him this time. Discount slabs, sacks of tomatoes, new fence pillars—Javi has even seen him come back with more wooden slats to fix something he hadn’t even known was broken. Rather than paying attention to the longing and sadness he’s secretly feeling.
When he turns the final corner of the house, he sees it—his vehicle. His eyes spot the lights cutting out and then that the bed of his vehicle is empty—a thank fuck falling from his lips in a whisper.
Relief barely has a chance to soak in when Javi spots that his Pop isn’t alone. Annoyance flares, shooting through him as his jaw tightens. Until he narrows his eyes, attempts to look closer through the dirt-stained window, seeing what looks like a woman. Their head turned—a side profile that looks—
Swallowing, he blinks.
Must be a trick of the light, he thinks, shaking his head, wiping the sweat, sun and dirt from his eyes.
It has to be a mis-sight. His brain addled from worry, it now making him lose his mind.
Purposefully blinking it away, wincing at the brightness when he hears the noise of a door opening, then another—trying to stop his heart from getting away from itself, hammering and thumping as he watches his Pop step out, hoisting the back of his jeans up as he nods at him.
“Mijo.”
There's a smirk. It scratched into his Pop’s face—yet, his voice is so normal, all forced, a pretence. It not matching the look on his face. The one all mischievous and devious. A devilish smirk outlined by white hair and a twinkle in his eye that Javi cannot remember the last time he’s seen.
It’s why his attention drifts and slides, watching the other person—you—move around the back of the truck.
He’d spot you anywhere.
His body comes to the conclusion, before his brain. His shoulders drop—all of the stress melting—taking worry and annoyance with it. Something hooks in the corner of his lips, dragging them up to his cheek as he watches you glance at his Pop with a smile. That same one he hasn’t stopped picturing, dreaming of—before you land it back on him.
You’re here.
You.
Today.
Your chin dips, but he sees how high your cheeks are on your face as you watch him through your lashes. The two of you move, crossing the ground, cutting through the path to meet somewhere in the middle. Gravel crunching, dirt swirling like smoke at both of your feet. 
“Surprise, charmer.”
He snorts, not stopping until his arms wrap around you, colliding with you. It doesn’t hurt. If anything, he realises how much he’s been hurting since he let you get on the plane to begin with. Pieces of him sliding back into place—healing, fixing.
“How?” he asks, whispering it against your face.
Unwrapping his arms, he watches you stare up at him before he glances at his Pop—grin smothered by wiry white all over again, paused at the bottom of the stairs to the house, tipping his hat:
“She made me promise, mijo.”
Shrugging, you wipe your thumb across your bottom lip. “I did. Don’t be mad.”
“Mad?” he asks, cupping your cheek and tilting your head. “I’m not… not even a little bit. I’m just…”
“I know I didn’t get the Houston job.”
His heart breaks a fraction, hand rubbing your arm, hearing the door to the ranch open and close in the distance. “I know, baby. You’ll—“
“But I did get offered the one from today.” Nodding, you smile before your teeth bite down on your bottom lip. “Apparently, I am very impressive—was going to be poached, anyway. Seems my skills are transferable enough to work for imports. A job that, I'm not sure if you know, wouldn't be in Houston. Like I let you believe.”
He feels a frown beginning to appear—attempting to weave itself through the joy already etched into his face. The rest of him trying to catch up, trying to piece together the nuts and bolts, the corners and edge pieces of the puzzle from the statements you’ve drip-fed him since you first told him about it.
“The job, Javi, would be here. At the World Trade Bridge.”
He feels it, the way his face smooths as he processes it. Acknowledges it. A bubble, a flutter of wings, appears in his chest, a new one arriving with every nugget he manages to process.
“He asked me if I fancied relocating—when he offered me the interview. It wasn’t quite Houston, something he apologised for. But, here, in Laredo. I had the interview this morning. If I accept, I’d be here, Javi. in Laredo. Which I know is a lot closer than Houston, so…”
“Baby.”
You press your palm to his chest. “I rang for you—to tell you. I had wanted to keep it to myself initially, just in case. Then, when I was helping Aish pack, she said it would be a nice surprise. Then, the guilt got too much. But I was a bit too excited to see who it was on the phone… and your Dad says hello in the same way, and by the time I’d told you—him—everything, your Dad was offering to pick me up, to bring me here.”
His face softens, a smile widening. Practically engulfing every other thing his face could even show, one that hurts it's so large.
“I can completely understand if you’d rather us keep some miles between us,” you smile. “Thought, though, if you’re as serious about me as I am about you, we could make the decision together.”
His hand cups both cheeks, brushing his thumb over your skin. “I want you.”
“I want you too.”
“Take the job, move here—move in—“
“Your dad already offered that,” you laugh, tipping your head forward, forehead pressing to his chest.
And, it's likely you can hear how his heart is hammering—maybe even feel it through his shirt. All loud and heavy. It doing it all for you.
“And, as lovely as the offer is, I get a nice relocation package—and I think, don’t be upset, that I’d want my own place. Just for a bit.”
Dragging his thumbs across your cheek. He stares into your eyes, aiming to burn the words he’s about to say into them. “How could I be upset when I’d have you here, cariño?”
Your lips slide into your cheek, a shy smile forming. “We could do those dates you talked about? I know I would see you all the time anyway, but I think I’ve been reckless enough lately. I’d like to be a tiny bit sensible, and do the proper dating thing where I cook for you at mine, and you invite me to sleep over at yours. Y'know? Just for a short time.”
“So, are you…”
“I haven’t accepted, not yet. Like I said, I wanted us to make that decision. As a couple. I… I guess I also wanted to check I still wasn’t too much?”
He lets out a breath, fingers sliding further up your cheek.
Unsure how he can even find words enough to explain how not too much you are. But he doesn’t try. Instead, he closes the gap, pressing his nose to yours, hoping his lips tell you instead.
Feeling you grasp at him, pulling him close. Feeling warmth, fire and adoration erupting in his chest when your mouth moves against his, soft, all perfect. Utter fucking bliss. A kiss he's longed for and missed so much, he's sure he's floating. 
Only stopping when you pull back, hand sliding round to his chest—grinning, all teeth and sparkling eyes.
“I should go accept, right?”
He kisses you again, shorter, more chaste, but with the same abundance of emotions. “Lemme show you where the phone is.”
“The infamous one?”
His hand rises to take yours, looping his fingers, finding you fall into place beside him—just as easily as the two of you had done in Houston. “The very one. Can show you where I hit my knee that time.”
“Oh, when you almost cried?”
“Ay, cariño. None of that.” His head shakes.
Fuck is it something to hear you laugh. How it leaves your lips, your other hand wrapping around his arm, head burying against him as he tilts his head to watch. Knowing he’s grinning, knowing he’s never been happier.
He’s also pretty sure the entire ranch just began smiling, too.
Tumblr media
Since the first time he heard your voice, his dreams have all been so similar. 
They are full of white sheets—soft-yellow sun rays dancing in from the outside through his blinds. They’d illuminate the bed, showcasing the outline of a person that he always knew was you. 
This morning, Javi woke to find it wasn’t a dream.
You're curled up close to him, thigh over his. His off-white sheets tucked around your body—face bare, stunning and pretty, lashes resting against your cheeks.
“Why’re you watching me sleep?”
Smirking, he traces his hand over your hip, giving you a pinch. “Jus’ admiring.”
“Can you do that at a sensible hour?”
He places a kiss on your nose, feeling your sigh against his skin before your hips move under his palm as you try to get closer. The barest of gaps between the two of you—as there had been since your arrival yesterday.
“For me, this is a sensible hour.”
You groan, deep—almost playful. “Shh, baby. Someone kept me awake late.”
“Some else didn’t seem to mind. I have teeth marks on my hand to prove it.”
He feels you hum, turning your head to look up at him before pressing a soft kiss to his chin. One that makes his throat dry, forces his hand to tighten its hold on you. The usual knot inside him smoothing out, everything in his veins calming. A feeling he had in Houston, which is now humming just as prominent here. 
The logistics for your move were glazed over last night, once you’d accepted, once his Pop had handed him a bottle of wine with a wink before 'heading out'. The two of you on the porch, wine in your hand and beer in his head. Tomorrow, Javi? We can plan it all tomorrow. Hand sliding over his. Just want to enjoy being with you right now, especially when we have forever. 
Tracing a circle on your hip, he traces his eyes over your face. “I’m so glad you mistyped that number, cariño.”
His words make your eyes open, watching your pupils swallow the colour—seeing how you focus, how your eyes begin to shine, and your smile begins to widen.
Hand rising to his cheek, your fingers delicately strumming his skin. “So glad you were intrigued about my bad date.” Your fingers pause, stopping at the side of his lip. “And that you were bored and lonely.”
Your eyes slide from his eyes to his lips and back again. “I’m even more glad to be yours, baby.”
Groaning, he slides his hand to your thigh, hooking it over his leg. “Say that again.”
“I’m yours.”
His nose slides against yours, lips lazily capturing yours. “Again.”
“Yours,” you whisper, mouth brushing his. “All yours.”
“Fuck, you’re perfect.”
Sliding your fingers into his hair, you ghost a smile across his lips. “I am, aren’t I?”
Tumblr media
AN: there are so many people to thank, but I'll save that for next week. for now, thank you for reading. for trusting me. for trusting that i was going to give them the ending they deserved. i know we have moments from their future next week, but for now, i love you, i love them, and i love that i had the chance to tell a story i really wanted to tell. this story made me feel like I was a part of the fandom for the first time since I really joined, and I hope you’ll all continue to be as loving and wonderful for the next thing I write.
anon inbox is now open for anyone who wants to scream love (hopefully) but I won't post anything with spoilers until Thursday 7pm BST.
526 notes · View notes
natsglorifiedsimp · 8 months
Text
Occupied
a bit of angst today cause why not?😝 oh gosh why is my writing so bad now lol i think this would be a last one lollll
This was a request of @aosquakewidow23
Taglist: @diaryoflife @xxromanoffxx @lissaaaa145 @fxckmiup @mmmmokdok @sayah13 @karmasgxrl @meurgen @simp-erformarvelwomen @lilaswidowspark @snowdrop1026 @beholdagaywriter
Tumblr media
(I'm not the owner of this fanart. Ctto)
"I need someone to talk to," you said sheepishly to both of your girlfriends. You tried your best to still maintain a smile even though you wanted to cry your heart out.
They know you are shy and not the best at communicating. They know how much courage it took you to say that you're hurting inside. But this time they ignored it.
"Y/n, I'm sorry but not right now. We still have finishing up to do." Natasha said.
A plea for help turned into an embarrassment. "What were you thinking?" you scold yourself.
You slowly backed away from them to give them much-needed space. "I'm sorry" you frowned. "I can come back later when you aren't busy." you tried to show a smile but your lips failed you.
"Yeah, yeah" Wanda flicked her hand ushering you out.
You wept in the hallway trying desperately to keep it together. "Maybe they're just busy and this is nothing, I can get over it myself" you convinced yourself.
---
Hoping they would listen to you, they didn't. It has been a week since they last told you to get off their faces. But it was one of those days again. You've been bottling up everything but you're already so exhausted.
"Nat? Wands?" you sounded so small, your eyes filled with tears you can't hold back anymore. "I could really use a hug right now."
Roaming your eyes in the room you noticed an unpacked suit of case. "What?"
You hurriedly looked at your closet, "Some of the clothes are gone" you thought.
Just in time Natasha and Wanda both came out of the bathroom. "Are you guys gonna leave?" you brittle.
"Oh yeah, new mission," Natasha said casually like it's nothing. Your eyes burned as you tried to keep your tears at bay. "But we haven't h-hang out yet." you stuttered.
"It's fine, we can do that when we get back" Wanda was occupied with her necessities. She didn't even spare a glance at you.
"Uhm, okay." you frowned in disappointment.
---
During the nights, you were up. Trying to keep your feelings in a jar keeping them away from people who are trying to help. You felt like a responsibility attached to your girlfriend's tail.
Someone who is trying to belong to a circle where she didn't fit in. You kept your distance to the team making sure you talked enough but not too much. Talked about them but little about you.
A daily stroll became your daily routine. During the day or night, you'd make sure you had your peace. But today, it wasn't the usual calm day. A guy dressed in a skimpy outfit is trying to snatch the poor young woman's purse.
Combat was something you never learned. Even from your girlfriends. But seeing the situation you didn't even think twice.
You grabbed the man's arm and kicked his crotch. He winced in agony keeping his balls together. You grinned braggingly and brought back the purse to the lady.
In utter anger, the man kicked your back with full force causing you to bumped the floor. 'That hurt' you thought.
He didn't stop there he made sure to give you blows by blow. You didn't fight though, you didn't care. At one point you even wished this would cause your death.
---
Getting home bruised and broken worried the team. Each one trying to talk to you, to give you immediate care. But with a simple "I'm fine" they stopped.
You walked past them like nothing happened. As if you didn't look like a mess. Natasha and Wanda were still weren't there though. As always.
---
The two redheads got back home exhausted. Shoulders slumped, eyes heavy with almost a week of deprived sleep.
FRIDAY notified you of their arrival but ashamed of what they're gonna say you kept it a secret. You hid in your room and sobbed until sleep took over.
You tried to keep yourself anonymous. Going into a room where the redheads are wasn't much hard. You were invisible to them.
This went on for days and you assumed that it was over. They no longer love you. They no longer care for you. You were once again alone in a room full of people you know but never belong to.
The bruises were still there. If anything they were more purple and visible. The ache in your back worsens but you didn't care.
Wanda gasped, "What happened y/n?!"
Suddenly you were visible again everyone was looking at you. "I'm fine" you lied.
"If you're fine you sure as hell won't have bruises littered all over you" she scolded worryingly.
She tried to grab your hand but you moved away from her. "It's fine, Wanda. It's not like you guys would care." your lips trembled.
"How can we take care of you if you wouldn't tell us what's wrong?" Natasha said.
Your eyes snapped at her, "I did try, Natasha. But you're too busy enough to even care!" the hood that you've been hiding on for weeks fell from your head. Now they could see every bruise you took from that snatcher.
"Oh y/n," Wanda said. "Come on let's get you fixed up" she ushered.
"No. I'm fine." you snapped. "Go back to your perfect little bubble."
"Honey, our bubble isn't perfect if you're not in it." Natasha cooed.
"Then the perfect little bubble ended weeks ago."
You only matter when you're sick and bruised. But once everyone finds how irrelevant you are. They'll pick a new person that is more capable than you. Remember: you're not a lot of people's favorite person
644 notes · View notes
mandyvsfx · 10 months
Text
Puberty.
Tom!Peter Parker X F!Reader
Tumblr media
warnings: smut, masturbation, that's all for today.
it is currently 1AM, I have to wake up at 5 and here I am writing smut.
We all went through puberty, it SUCKS. But just imagine going through puberty with heightened senses... Let's see what it's like to be Peter Parker for a day.
"The shy ones are the the worst" People would say, but you just couldn't even imagine Peter or Ned having dirty thoughts. In your silly little head, they were completely pure, you were sure of it. That being said, it wasn't a surprise that you never noticed the way Peter would check you out ALL the time, especially when you wore that cute little red dress, he would compliment you NONSTOP and you would never have second thoughts about it, you just thought he was being really nice.
However, your girl friends wouldn't fail to notice each time he would stare you up and down, or how he tried SO hard not to stare right into your boobs when you wore anything that had a cleavage to it.
"Parker was checking you out AGAIN. I mean, he's kinda cute, you should do him." One of them whispered.
"If I were you, I'd have already..." The other one said.
"Could you guys just shut the fuck up? We've known each other since we were kids! He is not like that." You looked at both of them, clearly annoyed by the comments.
"You mean he isn't like my ex? The type that cums and goes?- She laughed- Well, then you better be quick or else I might just need to steal him from you."
Why were you even friends with them anyways? All they cared about was what was trending and which boys they should hook up with. It was fun at first, but it got repetitive and suffocating over time.
Time passed, school day was finally over. You didn't had the chance to talk to Peter much, just a quick 'hi' and that was it for the day. But you were happy since May had invited you for dinner, so you guys would have all the time in the world to talk about mind controlling villains, all kinds of aliens from alterspace. -Yes, you knew he was Spiderman.- Or just about homework, like normal teenagers.
You got there, chatted with May for a while and sat at the table.
"What is taking him so long? PETER!- She shout, no answers.- Can you go tell him dinner's ready? I made pizza for us!" May said, licking her lips and giggling.
And so you did, walking fast towards his room, until you heard something. That something made you slow your pace a little.
"Oh- oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... shit."
It was Peter, was he injured? Maybe he just got back from fighting a robber or something. What if he needs help? What kind of friend would you be if you just turned around and left him there, possibly hurt? And then you heard it. Your name coming out of the boy's mouth. Only then you realized those noises weren't because he was in pain, Peter was rubbing one out at the thought of you.
You still doubted yourself, thinking your mind was only tricking you. You walked in closer to his door, that was parcially open, you could see his back and... You just stood there, frozen in place. He was actually touching himself. You could tell he was close by how fast his hand moved, almost like he was running out of time.
"Can't... hmm... can't do this... anymore... fuck." Your name kept falling from his lips, moans followed by moans, he sounded so needy, so desperate.
The one thing you didn't knew about Peter's heightened senses was that it affected other parts too... There would be times that he would keep masturbating over and over again and couldn't seem to be satisfied, like nothing was enough. He had never felt so much desire for someone the way he felt for you. Seeing you all cutey in that little skirt you wore to school that day, he had to hold himself the whole period so that he wouldn't just fuck you raw in the middle of the class for everyone to see. You were such a tease.
"Gonna... fuck- gonna cum..." Peter threw his head back, your name flowing from his lips. He looked so cute, you couldn't look away, it was like you were hypnotized.
You watched as he laid down on his bed, breathing heavily, one hand on his forehead cleaning the sweat.
"KIDS? What is taking you two so long?" You finally "woke up" and realized what you just witnessed, taking a few steps back before rushing to the kitchen.
"Sorry, he's... coming. Yes, that's it, he's coming." You said, stuttering a bit.
Peter quickly got dressed and joined you and May at the dinner table.
"I fell asleep, sorry. -He looked at May, then glanced over at you.- I... didn't know you were having dinner with us. We could've walked home together." He continued, looking down, never meeting your eyes.
Did he knew? He saw you? What was going to happen to your friendship? Was it ruined?
A million thoughts were running through your mind, but it suddenly went blank when you felt a warm hand slide to your inner thigh.
You looked up at him, visibly confused.
He would never do anything with May in the house tho, but at least now you knew his true intentions.
876 notes · View notes
fictionalthrill · 1 month
Text
A Stranger Valentine: Steve Harrington One-Shot
A/N: Greetings! So here it is! After a very long hiatus, I'm finally back with a little one-shot for Steve Harrington. It is my first in a while and I hope it won't be my last. I'm a little nervous about it, but I might as well just stop overthinking and go for it. And oddly enough, this just so happens to be my blog's 7th anniversary! I hope you like it!
Happy Valentine's Day!
Description: Steve puts himself out there on Valentine's Day. (3292 words)
WARNINGS: FLUFF!
Love interest: Reader
Tumblr media
         It was a nice, breezy, and all together, regular day in Hawkins. A somewhat busy Monday for some businesses, including the Family Video. Customers had come and gone. The shelves ripped apart; most rentals gone by the evening. Surprisingly, things had died down for a bit, giving Steve and Robin a breath. The bell at the door rang as a couple of customers exited, giving way to Dustin.      
         “Hey, Robin!” He greeted. 
         “Hey, nerd.”
         “I don’t take that as insult, no matter how many times you call me it,” Dustin said.
         Steve then appeared from the back room. “Okay Robin, make a note, we are out of When Harry Met Sally, Flashdance, Splash, Footloose, Sixteen Candles, and Back to the Future. I just went over some inventory and those are the ones most asked for and the ones we are out of for now.” He glanced over the counter. “Sup, Henderson?”
         “Do you have The NeverEnding Story?”
         “On a school night?” Steve said as he stood behind the counter. He reached for the bin of returned movies while he looked at his young friend.
         “Yeah, Susie and I are gonna watch it together on Valentine’s Day while we talk on the phone.”
         “You are guys are so weird,” Robin said.
         “Those are your Valentine’s Day plans?” Steve asked.
         “Well, there really isn’t much to do at a distance. Plus, it doesn’t help that Valentine’s Day is on a Wednesday this year.”
         “Right. Also, Valentine’s Day is two days away, why are you asking about the movie today?”
         “The NeverEnding Story is a beloved film. It could just as easily be on your little list of out-of-stock movies.”
         “Doubtful,” Robin said.
         Out of nowhere, a VHS box fell to the ground. The sound earned the attention of the trio by the counter. Then, a hand was raised from behind one of the shelves.
         “Sorry, that was my bad.” Someone’s voice rang. Their head poked up as well. 
         “You’re good,” Robin responded.
         Steve failed to tear his eyes away. He watched as the girl continued to scan the films, while she enjoyed the music that played on her Walkman. Steve was pulled out of his trance by Dustin who snapped his fingers in his face.
         “Hellooooo!?”
         “What? What?”
         Dustin looked between the shelves and Steve. “You really shouldn’t stare, Steve. It’s rude.”
         “I often tell him,” Robin said as she flipped through the pages of a magazine she usually hid behind the counter.
         “I wasn’t staring,” Steve said.
         “Oh, you were just ogling at Y/N,” Dustin said. 
         Steve’s head snapped towards Dustin. “You know her?”
         “Uh, yeah, most people do.”
         “Huh? I could have sworn she just moved here.”
         “No, she moved back,” Robin added.
         “What you know them too?” 
         “Duh, dingus.”
         “How do you both know her, and I don’t?”
         “Probably because you were too busy being King Steve.”
         “Ugh!”
         “Yup! Y/N was in your year,” Dustin said.
         “How do you know anything about her?” 
         “She babysat Mike and I a couple of times.”
         “And you know her how, Robin?”
         “She tutored me in algebra.”
         Suddenly, Y/N made her way over to the counter with a couple of films in hand, cutting the trio’s conversation short. 
         “Okay, I think that’s enough browsing for the day,” she said as she removed her headphones. 
         “Hey, Y/N!” Dustin smiled.
         “Dustin Henderson? Look at you! You’ve gotten taller!”
         “And you’ve stayed the same.”          “Well, I think I hit my growth spurt too early and ran out quickly.”
         “It happens.”
         “Hi, Robin!” She glanced at Steve. “Hi, Steve.”
         “Hey, Y/N!”
         “Hi,” Steve said shyly. 
         Robin moved to the computer on the counter while Y/N handed the movies to her.
         “How long will you be renting these for?”
         “Um, you can put me down for two nights. Seems like you guys have been really busy, today.”
         “Yeah, it’s been oddly hectic for Valentine’s Day week.”
         “Oh, that’s right! Wednesday… is that why I couldn’t find a copy of Sixteen Candles?”
         “Oh?” Robin looked at Steve. “No, Sixteen Candles?”
         Steve shot Robin a disappointed look, realizing she never listened to him earlier. “Yeah, sorry. We’re all out of that one…” Steve told Y/N.
         “No, worries. I just like to rewatch it every now and again.”
         “Sorry,” Steve said.
         “It’s okay.”
         “Okay, you are set to go,” Robin said as she slid the movies to Y/N.
         “Thanks. Well, I’ll see you guys around. Bye!” She locked eyes with Steve before she headed towards the door.
         “I don’t think I’ve seen you this off your game since our Scoops Ahoy days, dingus.”
         “Yeah, Steve, you were just there. Staring. Again!”
         “What did you guys expect me to do with you two here?”
         “Uh, act normal,” Robin said.
         “I did act normal. She wasn’t really interested.”
         “Maybe cause you were avoiding them.”
         “I wasn’t avoiding them. They clearly aren’t interested.”
         “I believe you just haven’t been trying hard enough,” Dustin said.
         “I second that,” Robin said.
         “When’s the last time you went on a date?”
         “Ha!” Robin exclaimed. 
         “What? It hasn’t been that long.”
         “It’s been a while. Actually, I don’t think you’ve dated anyone in the time that I’ve known you.”
         “Come on! It has not been long.”
         “Long enough.”
         “Whether that’s the case or not, maybe you should just try. Why don’t you ask them out?” Dustin said.
         “Because he doesn’t know how. He’s done nothing but stare at her each time she’s been in here.”
         “I’m right here, Robin. Besides, I helped her the second time she came in.”
         “You pointed to where the comedies were and practically ran away from her.”
         “Fine, so I’m a little off my game. So what?”
         “Maybe you just need to not think about it as much,” Dustin suggested.
         “What do you mean?”
         “Just ask her out. Let the words come out and don’t think about it too much or else you’ll psych yourself out.”
         “Can’t believe I’m getting advice from Henderson.”
         “Like that’ll work,” Robin commented.
         “You’re not really helping,” Dustin said.
         “Okay, how’s this for advice? Stop living in the past. You’re not the same Steve from high school, which means people don’t act the way they used to around you. The real world is different, and you are in it. So why don’t you just grow a pair and just ask her out! What’s the worst that can happen, that she says no? You’ve been rejected before, and you’ve lived. You’ll be just fine no matter the outcome.”
         “Uh… okay, thanks.”
---
         On Valentine’s Day, Family Video saw a lot of traffic from the moment it was opened. Girls came around in their little cliques and grabbed snacks to go with their choice of films like The Blue Lagoon, Endless Love, An Officer and a Gentleman, Flashdance, and more. These were also popular among the guys that strung along their girlfriends or the dates they had for the day.
         Steve had finished shelving some of the returns before he made his way to the counter. Things had died for a bit, so he took the opportunity to stock some movies before more customers showed up. This would leave Robin with the inventory in the back. When he went to check on her, he found her lying back on a chair, a magazine covering her face.
         “Of course,” he said.
         The bell at the door rang, and Steve eyed the monitors on the desk in front of Robin. The footage showed Y/N, as she made her way to the counter. Steve felt his heart rate increase. He took a deep breath and exited the back room, immediately coming face to face with Y/N.
         “Hey,” he greeted.
         “Hi!” Y/N said as she fished some movies from her messenger bag. “I’ve come to return these.” She placed the films on the counter.
         “Alrighty.” Steve reached for the films while he worked on the computer. He noticed two of the three titles: Cinderella and Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Steve felt this was his time to make small talk. “Had yourself a Disney night?”
         “Hmm?”
         “A Disney night… Cinderella and Snow White?” He smiled nervously. 
         “Oh! Kinda. I had to babysit two little girls and as you can imagine they love princesses.” Y/N beamed.
         “Right. And if you baby sit boys, what do you usually go for?”
         “Easy. Star Wars. Or E.T. Dustin can testify to that.”
         “Classic choices right there.” He saw the last title: Grease. “I’m guessing Grease is more of a personal choice.”
         Y/N chuckled. “Yeah, you’re not wrong. I like to have one for myself for when the kids fall asleep.”
         “Understandable. Uh, that’ll be four-twenty-five.”
         As Y/N searched through her wallet for her money, Steve watched her for a moment. He took in her soft features and notice how delicate she looked. She pulled out a five-dollar bill and handed it to him. Steve charged the films and took out three quarters to give back.
         “No movies for tonight?”
         “Didn’t really have any in mind. Weirdly enough I got no calls to baby sit tonight. And I didn’t make plans so, right now   I don’t know what the rest of the day holds.”
         Robin’s words replayed in Steve’s mind. Grow a pair and just ask her. He thought. Now or never, Harrington.
         “Listen, since you don’t have any plans for tonight, would you…” he cleared his throat and continued. “Would you like to go see a movie? With me? Tonight?”
         “Oh… like on a date?” she asked.
         “Uh, yeah—Only if you want…”
         Y/N smiled at him. “What did you have in mind to go see?”
         Steve swallowed. “There’s this new movie coming out… Pretty in Pink…”
         “I’d love to.”
         “Really?”
         “Yeah. You had me at movie and now I’m even more excited knowing it’s to see Pretty in Pink.”
         Steve chuckled. “Great. That’s great. There’s a showing at eight. Can I pick you up at seven-thirty?”
         “That sounds perfect.”
         “Awesome, so I’ll see you tonight.”
         “I’ll see you tonight, Steve.” With that Y/N exited the Family Video. 
         Once she was out of sight, Steve couldn’t help but fist bump the air. It had actually worked. He asked and she said yes. Steve turned around and jumped when he noticed Robin just stood there.
         “Jesus!”
         She had a smug look on her face. “Told you so, Harrington.”
         “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thanks.”
---
         Funnily enough, Steve had forgotten to ask Y/N where she lived. Luckily, Robin helped him figure it out. He arrived just as he had told her; seven thirty on the dot. He popped a breath mint in his mouth as he walked up to the door. He combed his fingers through his hair, adjusted the jacket he had on, and rang the doorbell.
         A minute passed before the door swung open to reveal Y/N standing opposite of him. Steve eyed her for a second before he swallowed so hard the breath mint went straight to his stomach. He could have sworn he heard Dustin telling him to stop ogling at the girl. 
         He snapped out of his daze. “Hey.”
         “Hi. You alright?” She asked.
         “Me? Yeah. I’m good.”
         She smiled. 
         “You look great, by the way. Uh, beautiful actually.” Steve noticed her cheeks grew warm. 
         “Thank you.”
         “Are you ready to go? I’m not rushing you, though.”
         “I’m ready.”
         “Alrighty, let’s go.”
         Steve moved aside as she stepped out and locked the door behind her. They walked together to his car, and Steve picked up his steps to beat her to the passenger side. He opened the door and closed it after she climbed in. Steve then marched over to the driver’s side. As soon as he got in, he started his car, and drove on to the movie theater. The ride started off a bit quiet with both parties rather nervous about the date, not that they’d confess anything to one another. Suddenly, Steve turned on the radio and the catchy beat of Daryl Hall and John Oats’ You Make My Dreams Come True, came through the speakers. Steve caught on to Y/N tapping her hands on her lap in tune to the song, and so he left it on that station. After that, the ride didn’t feel as long. Before they knew it, the song finished when they arrived. 
         Steve made sure to get the door for Y/N and together they strolled over to the ticket booth. Being a gentleman, he bought their tickets, and the pair made their way inside. Steve eyed the snacks counter and turned to Y/N at his side. 
         “Would you like any snacks?”
         “Uh, only you do.”
         “I could definitely go for some popcorn. We could share?”
         “Okay.”
         “If you want you can get us some seats while I get the snacks.”
         “Are you sure? I don’t mind going with you.”
         “Yeah. Movie will start here in a bit so were gonna see plenty of people filing in and before you know it, the good seats will be gone.”
         “Okay. I’ll see you inside.”
         “Yeah.”
         A few minutes later Y/N waved Steve over the minute she spotted him coming into the theater. Steve was hugging a bucket of popcorn while also holding a beverage on each hand. When he reached the seat next to her, Y/N stopped rubbing her hands on her upper arms and helped Steve with the drinks. She placed each one on the cup holders and Steve sat next to her. The lights dimmed and the screen slowly went on. Steve leaned a little closer to Y/N.
         “Are you okay?”
         “Yeah. It’s just a little colder than I expected, and I totally forgot my cardigan at home.”
         “Oh…”
         “Yeah, but it’s okay.”
         “Here, hold this.” Steve handed her the popcorn and proceeded to remove his jacket. He then extended it to her. “Take it.”
         “What? No, Steve. I couldn’t.”
         “You can. Take it, please.”
         “Steve…”
         “Please.”
         Y/N took the boy’s jacket. Steve wouldn’t say it out loud, but he loved how she looked in it, even in the dimmed theater. She warmed up immediately. 
         “Thank you,” she whispered. 
         “You’re welcome. Popcorn?” He whispered back. 
         “Yes, please. Thanks.”
         Steve handed his date the popcorn and kept a small handful. The film started and the pair got comfortable in their seats. At one point during the movie, their hands bumped into one another when reaching for the popcorn.
         “Sorry,” Y/N whispered.
         “It’s okay. Some good popcorn.”
         Steve shook his head as he watched the movie, the words echoing in his head. Some good popcorn? Idiot. 
         Mid way through the film Y/N slightly leaned her shoulder into Steve’s armrest. Steve took as deep breath and enjoyed the closeness. They would remain like that until the end.
---
         As the pair exited the theater along with the crowd, Y/N gushed to Steve about how much she enjoyed the movie.
         “I thought it was pretty sweet. Thanks for bringing me.”
         “You’re welcome.”
         As they strolled on over to the car, Y/N got a little closer to Steve. 
         “Why did you bring me?”
         “What?”
         “Why did you bring me to see this movie tonight? On Valentine’s Day?”
         Steve stopped in place. “Oh, I- uh, I thought it was pretty obvious.”
         She stopped as well and gazed up at him. “What?”
         He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, that I… that I… like you.”
         “That’s good. I like you too.” She grinned.
         “You do?”
         “I thought it was pretty obvious.” 
         Steve chuckled and nodded. He noticed a man at the street corner selling roses. Without saying a word, he started jogging towards the man. Y/N turned, and her eyes followed his figure.
         “Steve?”
         “One sec.”
         She watched as Steve got a rose from the man and jogged right back to her.
         Steve extended the rose towards her. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
         She accepted it.
         He continued. “I didn’t make a big deal of it because it’s only our first date and I didn’t want to freak you out.”
         “I love it.”
         They continued on back towards Steve’s car, not that far apart from one another. When they reached the car, Steve being a gentleman once again, opened the door for her to get in. 
         On their way back, there was a soft love song playing on the radio, which they both enjoyed in silence. According to the host, it had been requested by some lovesick caller. They pulled up slowly to Y/N’s home, and Steve turned off the engine. As they sauntered to her door, Steve realized he didn’t want the night to end. Sure, he had been a bundle of nerves the whole time, but even then, he enjoyed her company and thought her shyness was just adorable. When they reached the door Steve stayed on the second step, while she stood at the top. They were at eye level this way.
         “Steve?” She said shyly. 
         “Yeah?”
         “How come you didn’t ask me sooner?”
         Steve took a deep breath. It was as if the date had only just begun again. “Honestly? I couldn’t muster the courage to ask you out.”
         “What changed?”
         “Robin gave me a harsh, but much needed pep talk.”
         “And how did you decide on a movie?”
         “It seemed like you love ‘em. I tried to hold Sixteen Candles for you cause you asked for it the other day. But then, I saw this movie had the same chick in it. So, I took a shot.”
         “Molly Ringwald.”
         “Huh?”
         “The actress you’re talking about. It’s Molly Ringwald.”
         “Right, yeah. That one.”
         She smiled. “Well, I’m glad our first date was on Valentine’s Day. It will stand out from any future one’s.”
         “Future one’s? You sayin’ you would go on a date with me again?” His heart was beating through his ears.
         She played with the rose she held in her hand. “Only if you want to. I wasn’t sure if you’d ask again.”
         “I do. I really, really do.”
         “Then it’s a date.”
         “Totally.”
         The two stood under the moonlight for another minute, as if waiting for something else to happen. However, nothing did.
         “Well, thanks again, Steve. I had a really great time.”
         “Me too.”
         “Goodnight, Steve.”
         “Goodnight.”
         Y/N smiled at the boy before her, one more time. She then turned to the door, unlocked it, and stepped inside.
         “Bye.”
         Steve waved softly at her and watched the door close. He stood there for a brief moment, kicking himself for not doing more to not bring the night to close so soon. 
         Suddenly, the door opened, and Y/N stepped in front of Steve in two quick steps. She placed a delicate hand on Steve’s right cheek, leaned forward, and pressed her lips to his. 
         Steve was stunned. His hands slightly hovered around her, before they came down to settle on her hips. He pulled her in a little tighter, relaxing into the kiss. He felt a warmth between them, as he savored her soft lips. He could still taste the movie theater popcorn.
         After a moment, Y/N broke the kiss and took a step back. Steve’s eyes remained closed, and his hands lingered on her hips. He finally opened his eyes and gazed into hers.
         “Wow.”
         A giggle bubbled in her throat. She took another step back, but Steve couldn’t resist pulling her in by her hips and kissing her one more time. Steve broke the kiss on this occasion and saw as he had left her stunned this time around. As he gazed back at her, he watched as she began to take slow steps backwards into her home.
         “Happy Valentine’s Day, Steve.”
She then closed the door and lied her back against it, with a hand hovering over her lips. Steve couldn’t see this. Which meant she didn’t see him when he raised his fists in triumph. 
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Don't be afraid to let me know what you think! If you are interested in another Steve Harrington One Shot, I wrote one a while back. Here is the link:
114 notes · View notes
bellewintersroe · 6 months
Text
Max Verstappen X HornerDaughter!
Part 6- here’s the LINK to part 5. Thank you for all your support! Only a small chapter, but 100% more coming, just you wait… When Red Bull fail to establish their dominance in Singapore, it seems nobody can get off of Max’s back, despite the fact he’s happy for Carlos and the McLaren boys on the podium. All the doubting gets to his head and in the end there’s only one person he turns to for support. Leni secretly freaks when she realises her and Max keep getting closer… Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow @fangirl125reader @norassimpingzone @roseseraj @eugene-emt-roe @copper-boom @its-elias-world @cassiopeiia24
Tumblr media
“But is Max Verstappen really happy for Carlos Sainz, or is that just a cover up?”
“Max- Max how do you feel? Should it have been you up on the podium today?”
“Max how does it feel that the Red Bull dominance has been broken?!”
“We’re sensing some tension lingering around Max Verstappen today in Singapore after he takes 5th place. It was an astonishing race for Carlos, we can’t quite say the same about the man who has been dominating the 2023 season!”
Poor Max. It was no wonder the poor guy just wanted to get out of the media’s eye. He was so happy for his friends on the podium, he was still confident and self-assured, but the media kept portraying him to be some kind of villain that was spiteful for his own close friends. Even Checo, the media harassed to shit, but Max seemed to take the brunt of it.
No matter how happy he was, it wasn’t enough for the press who constantly accused him of being a brat, or pissed off about the race. I was positive there was nothing Max could do to please them, so when he headed back to his hotel in peace, I was disappointed, but not so surprised.
Me on the other hand, after four drinks in I’d twisted my ankle and ended up limping back to my room, the kind receptionist from downstairs offering me an icepack. It was pretty boring sitting alone in my room when everybody else was out, even my whole family was somewhere but I’d drunken too much too quickly and paid for it soon after.
That’s when I thought of Max. He too was in his room, probably asleep after such an exhausting day. In my tipsy mind I lifted my phone up, glancing through our previous texts. I’d not responded to his last message which was just a simple not explanation of why the RB’s didn’t work so well on specific types of circuits. I’d seen him in person and felt too awkward to text when we were in the same proximity.
Snapping a picture of the ice pack over my ankle I sent him a bunch of pissed off emojis, feeling playful.
Leni: don’t drink Prosecco it fucks you over It wasn’t so long later when Max actually responded. I was surprised it was so quick, but god- I wanted him so bad. I felt like having him, especially now, so soon after a break up would be a little sour for everybody around us, never mind that my own dad was his team principle.
Max: wtf Leni how did you manage that, are you ok?
Leni: hahahaha don’t even ask I’m good, are you?
Max: yeah just pissed off with all the media today. I don’t want to see a single person else. I cringed at his words. Yikes. That was my invite gone. Rereading my messaged to make sure they made sense, I sent a simple message of; Leni: I don’t blame you
Max took a while to respond after that. I was actually falling asleep, my eyes feeling heavy until the buzzing of my phone aroused me quicker than I could process.
Max: unless you wanna come chill with for a while “Oh, Max. I don’t know how you deal with them. They make it out like you’re gonna start a war with Carlos just because you didn’t get a podium, once.” I sat on the edge of his bed, continuing to hold the ice pack to my ankle.
“Exactly, and I don’t know why!” He paced from one end of the room to the other. “They like drama.” I pointed out.
“True, but…” Max plopped himself on the hotel bed. “I feel fine for Japan, I’m confident, but when you’ve got millions of people doubting you it gets kinda irritating.” I winced slightly at his words. Max usually didn’t be so open about his feelings with this side of the media, I knew truthfully he never really give two shits what they thought, but when people were constantly at him I was positive he must’ve found it jarring.
“You’ve also got millions supporting you again.” I responded as he smiled gently. “Yeah. I know that.” His voice was gentle, grateful, he sounded humble. It was a side to hum media didn’t like to show, especially in drive to survive.
“I know I will be.” I shrugged, glancing over to see him smiling down to his sweats. It was a miracle to see him something other than jeans. “Thanks, Leni.”
“Or maybe I’ll switch teams completely and start going to the Ferrari garage.” Max threw a pillow at me in response.
“Dick.” I snickered, scooting further up onto the bed to rest against the headboard, besides Max. There was still possibly the largest gap between us that I’d ever witnessed.
“Could you imagine what my dad would say?”
“I don’t think he’d be too happy.” Max smirked. “Neither would I.”
“Really?” I gazed over his expression. He was still smiling, indicating he couldn’t have been too serious. “Yeah, I mean, you’re part of our team. If you’re not there it would be weird.”
Hours passed and soon we’d both retired under the covers, watching the TV in a comfortable silence. The alcohol that once streamed through my body had fallen stagnant and I was feeling more nervous than when I initially arrived into Max’s room. I stole a glance at him, his eyelids were heavy as he watched the movie, something I hadn’t paid attention to in a good hour.
The gap between us had closed slightly, and I felt myself overthinking more and more about how soon it was to be in this position with him. Friends do this, right? As long as there was no physical contact, as bad as I wanted it, it would be fine.
So the minute I felt Max’s hand brush against the bare skin of my elbow I felt myself completely freak, fidgeting my legs and accidentally kicking my bad ankle. “Ow, fuck. I kicked myself.” I pushed myself up, pretending to be completely and utterly blind to how close we were laid previously.
“Are you ok?” Max too, pushed himself up. I pushed the covers off me and glanced at my slightly swollen ankle. “I’m fine, just… hurt.” I winced, lowering it off the side of the bed.
“Oh- you can stay… if you want.” Max muttered, sounding a little nervous. My stomach grew butterflies, my heart felt like it exploded and as badly as I wanted to say yes and jump on him- something was stopping me.
“It’s okay. I better go to bed, thank you though.”
“Want me to walk you back?”
“30 seconds down the hall?” I giggled as he shrugged like it was obvious. I realised how rude that sounded, to turn down his offer. “It’s okay, thank you though, Max. I would stay but Blue is there- and if I don’t come back, you know, it looks a little…”
“I get it. Then they all start asking questions.” Max agreed as I offered him another smile. “Yeah. Exactly.” I turned my head a way, hesitating to actually turn around and leave. Max stood besides me at the door and to avoid any other form of intimate interaction I avoided eye contact at all cost.
By the time I’d got back to my bedroom I’d well and truly wanted to top myself. Well done Leni, well fucking done. That could have been one of the most finest moments of my life, not!
190 notes · View notes
lowkeyremi · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
His birthday k. bokuto
Remi's note: Happy birthday to my favorite owl, ily (also i wrote the sky-diving thing based on my own experience)
CW: established relationship, fluff, kinda rushed
Tumblr media
"WOOHOO!" He screams, and you startle awake.
"W-what? Ko baby what's up?" You ask sleepily. You open your eyes, they're bleary and you're trying to comprehend what's going on right now.
"Honey get up! It's my birthday! Let's go celebrate!!" Bokuto spouts all at once. You'd think after a certain age people wouldn't care too much about their birthdays. Your husband proves you wrong because he is twenty-eight, and still excited like a two year old going to chuck-e-cheese for their birthday.
"Slow your roll, I still need to get up. I also need caffeine." You mumble. Those golden eyes watch as you sit up and blink slowly to adjust to the morning.
"Don't worry, sweetness! I already made you some (coffee or tea)!" He exclaims with a cup in his hand. How did that get there? You could have sworn that wasn't in his hand a few seconds ago.
When he hands you the mug you take a nice long sip with a loud exhale at the end. "Thanks, Ko."
"Mhm, what're you feeling today? I have a couple outfits picked out for ya!" He points to the dress where sure enough, there are three or four outfits laid out.
"Where are we going? You seem to wanna get a move on." The one thing that you never understood was why Bokuto wanted to spoil you on his birthday. He always takes you places and buys you stuff. He says 'seeing you happy makes me happy, and that's all I want for my birthday.'
Every year he tells you not to get him anything besides your love. Which is cheesy. You got him something.
This actually took a long time to plan because you had to think of something he wouldn't expect. Kuroo played a role in your surprise gift.
"Yeah I do. We're driving two hours today. The sooner we get there the better." You look at him in disbelief.
"Kotaro Bokuto." You say sternly.
"I promise this time it's gonna be something I wanna do." That's what he's said in the past and it was never true.
----
He watched you go through you're daily routine, smiling at every little thing. He was over excited about helping you with little things like slipping your shoes on or setting the timer so your makeup could dry.
You guys where ready to go around nine am. Bokuto stopped by his favorite restaurant to get breakfast to go for the ride.
"These burritos never fail!!" He exaggerates with a loud moan as he takes another huge bite.
"You are a piece of work." You sigh with a smile taking a bite out of your own burrito.
Throughout the ride Bokuto plays songs you used to listen to when he first met you. He purposely sung off key just to piss you off make you laugh.
He wanted to play road-trip games but you had to remind him countless times that he was DRIVING so he can't play road-trip games.
------
You really had no clue where he'd brought you. The place looked empty based on the amount of cars present in the parking lot. Before you can even process it, he opens your car door, "Come on honey, don't wanna be late."
Your hands are intertwined and he guides you into a small white building.
"I brought you to an indoor sky-diving place because I'm too scared to actually sky-dive, yet." He explains, a grin crosses your face when he mentions real sky-diving.
"Let's do it then!" You say excitedly.
Bokuto checks you two in for your reservation. The instructor takes you two back to a little room to teach you the basics of indoor sky-diving. She says it's similar to outdoor sky-diving. She shows you the three hand signals you'll need to know so the operate can know how you're feeling.
Once you two have grasped the concept so she brings you to the sky-diving area. Bokuto goes first, he looks so cute and funny swinging his legs all around in the glass cylinder trying to remember what the woman had taught him.
"Baby look! I'm flying!" He yells trying to flap like a bird, which messes up his flow and causes him to bump into the glass wall. Your giggle goes unnoticed as he exists the glass when the air stops flowing.
"Mrs. Bokuto, you're up!" The operator yells. After checking your helmet once more you're stepping into the cylinder.
Over all the experience was quite fun and you got some good pictures of your husband being silly.
-----
When you arrived home, you put your hand over Bokuto's eyes in order to keep him from looking.
You motion to Kuroo who is already in you're house looking at you waiting for the signal.
"Okay Ko, open them up!" He opens his eyes and you remove your hand. Standing round your kitchen table is Tsukki, Kuroo, Akaashi, Kenma, Atsumu, Hinata, and surprisingly Sakusa.
"Happy birthday!!" They all say in unison.
"I wanted you to celebrate with your friends, so outside I set up the net so you guys can play a few rounds of volleyball." You say meekly with a huge smile plastered on your face.
"Babyyyyyy." Bokuto drags out with a smile.
"Thank you so much! Come on guys! Let's go play some volleyball before it gets super late!" Bokuto kisses you. When he detaches his lips from you, he grabs your arm and drags you out to come play volleyball with all his friends.
195 notes · View notes
neevworks · 6 months
Text
no but levi would be lowkey so pissed when he realizes he has a crush on you…
{ part one } { part two } { part three }
{ this is part three, but can be read on its own }
-> cw: sfw, no y/n, gn!reader, pining, angst, blood mention, levi trying his best, happy ending yayyyy
-> length: medium, 1.8k words
-> a/n: thanks for reading~
Tumblr media
Levi was sure he’d hit the point of no return when he woke up to the sound of your voice outside of his tent, barking out orders to your squad about the plan of attack for the day. With a twinge of irritation he recalled that you absolutely hated waking up early, and if you’d been up before Levi, the notoriously early riser of the group…
Levi dressed himself with muscles taut and coiled. The only reasonable explanation for this was that you were pissed. It made sense, of course, after his stunt the night before, but only drew the constant knife in his gut deeper. When Levi finally emerged from his tent, you turned to face him, your face hardened with no trace of your usual sunny disposition to be seen.
Sleeping in, Ackerman?
He hadn’t even been able to respond before you turned and left to speak with your squad members. Although, even if you’d given him a chance to Levi wasn’t sure he’d have anything to say. Never had he heard that kind of bite in your tone, and while referring to him by his last name? It stung; no, it was far worse than that.
Fuck. Words were hard for Levi, especially any concerning finer, softer feelings. But anger was something he could work with. And maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of the end of these horrid feelings he felt for you.
Your strategy for the day’s mission was brilliant, of course, and so well thought out that Levi couldn’t even rudely suggest improvements. Today would be the crux of the entire endeavor: retrieving some broken materials that a different squad had lost in an ambush on an earlier mission. The only issue was that this particular area was crawling with titans, some of which were notoriously dangerous.
Levi and his squad - separately from yours, of course - were to fan out and create a perimeter while your squad would locate and load the materials to take back to camp. Ideally it would be simple: kill a few titans, stay in constant communication, and be back in no time. The next day you’d journey back home, and on arrival you and Levi could get on with never really talking again.
But plans never went according to how they were drawn up, did they? Which was why Levi’s heart hammered in his chest at the news from a fellow scout that something awful had happened to you, and why he raced to your position in a blind rage, dispatching anything and everything in his way.
Apparently a wayward titan had appeared from nowhere, hand outstretched to crush your second-in-command. You’d raced to save her, shoving her out of harms way just in time, but failed to escape yourself. Your squad was able to dispatch the titan before it hurt anyone else, but they’d come to Levi for help: with a huge load of materials to get and more titans on the way, there just wasn’t enough bodies to get everything done.
When Levi finally found you, his skin burned with the heat of still-drying titan blood. He’d landed between you and your exhausted troops.
-
“Captain, sir,” a wounded, heaving scout begins, “even with your squad’s help, we only have enough people to get these carts back to camp, and…” she glances over to you, half-passed out and leaning against a tree trunk. “We don’t have the manpower to carry anyone back.”
Levi crouches down next to you, his face uncharacteristically frightened. “Open your eyes,” he commands, brushing hair sticky with blood back from your forehead. “You’d better be alive.”
You are alive, though the sight of Levi so close to you makes you wonder for a moment if you’ve somehow already died. You groan in pain when you move to look at him. When you’d saved your scout, the titan had crushed the entire left side of your body: it feels like some number of your ribs are broken, and your left leg and arm aren’t in any better condition. Levi seems to wince at your pain.
Your squad member hesitates. “Sir, what should we do?”
Levi doesn’t even look at her. “Take the carts. I’ll handle this.” He carefully slots his arms underneath you and lifts you up with ease. Levi grimaces when you scream in agony.
“S-sir, what if-”
“Go!” Levi yells. “If you keep standing there stammering like an idiot I’ll feed you to a damned titan myself!” She darts away without another word.
Each step from Levi reverberates pain throughout your body, though you can feel he’s trying his best to keep you still. “It’s a long way back,” he murmurs into your ear, “I’m going to ODM us there.”
You’re too tired to respond, but in your clouded haze of pain it looks like Levi’s mouth trembles.
“If you’re going to pass out I’d suggest you do it soon.” He pauses.
“It’s alright. I’m going to keep you safe.”
-
By some miracle — no, by Levi’s furious will — he was able to get the two of you back to camp in mostly one piece. There had been so many unforeseen injuries that the medical tent had already filled upon your arrival. One of the medics started to build a makeshift bed outside for you, but the pent-up emotions clogging Levi’s brain space made him blurt out the unthinkable.
My tent’s empty - you don’t need to make a bed out here. Fearful of the warmth that seemed to be crawling up his neck, he quickly added, It’s not like any of the other tents have room.
And so here you were, half-dead in Levi’s tent, while he sat at your side, swirling with fear and rage and confusion at what the hell compelled him to do this. He knew you were baffled, too, in the way you kept furrowing your brow every time he spoke to you, but he assumed that it wasn’t exactly the best time to breach the subject of his feelings, not when it was uncertain whether you’d even make it through the night.
You thankfully make it through the night, though it was a long, uncomfortable one of pain and horrid dreams. Levi had stayed awake, asking if you were alright every time you painfully came to from the depths of a feverish nightmare.
After that night, when nearly every minute he’d feared you would leave this world, leave him, Levi decided to throw all of his idiotic behavior out of the window. If you both made it back behind the walls alive he swore to himself that he’d tell you how he felt, and if you didn’t reciprocate then so be it. Until then, though, he’d do everything in his power to make sure you stayed alive.
While you recuperated enough to make the journey home safely, Levi made it his personal mission to take care of you. During the day he’d check in with the squads, the medics, make sure everything was alright, and dare to get a few precious hours of sleep slumped over his desk. At night, he’d sit in a chair at your bedside with bags under his eyes, making sure he could hear the pained rise-and-fall of your breath. Sometimes he’d fall asleep without realizing it, only to wake up a few hours later to the breathtaking sight of your face, eyes closed in the realm of sleep.
Oh, Levi knew all too well at this point that what he had was far more than just a crush.
On the night before you were slated to start the journey home, a dreadful chill hung in the air. Levi huffed at the thin canvas of his tent walls, pulling on the only thick piece of clothing he had. It was supposed to be the middle of spring, not an inconveniently freezing winter’s night. He resumed his post in a chair at your side and even dared to engage you in some mundane conversation to pass the time. Once he noticed your eyelids begin to fall, he moved to turn off the lantern at your bedside so you could get some rest, but stopped as soon as he realized you were shivering.
-
“Shit. You’re cold?”
You nod, grimacing at the thin blankets on Levi’s bed. “Got anything warmer?”
Levi rolls his eyes. “No. I didn’t expect the chill at this time of year.” He hesitates in the following silence hanging in the still air between the two of you.
“I…” His eyes flick to the empty space in the bed, then back to you. For once in his life, it seems that Levi Ackerman looks nervous. Curious at how this might play out, you pat the sheet on your right side.
“We don’t have any better options. It’s okay.”
Levi scoffs, but climbs in next to you, shifting to the edge of the bed to leave a healthy distance. You dare to crack a smile. “Well, if the purpose is to share body heat, you’re not doing a very good job.”
Levi stiffens, but shifts over a bit until your bodies are just barely touching one another. “Better?” He’s pouting a little bit, and it makes you laugh, which sends pain reverberating throughout your body.
“Here, just-” He swiftly draws the covers over the both of you. “Don’t move too much, alright?”
It’s quiet for some time. Levi’s head rests stiffly on his pillow while he stares straight up ahead at the ceiling. Despite the small amount of contact you’ve got with him, you realize that you can feel his heart absolutely hammering in his chest.
“I’m sorry.” It’s practically a whisper, the gruff voice so uncharacteristically soft that it completely crumbles whatever boundaries you’d been trying to put up between you. Despite the pain, you shift until you’re facing him. He dares to turn his head just enough for you to see the devastation in his eyes.
“I forgive you.” Because you do. Because you’ve always felt that underneath your tenuous friendship with him, there’s been something else that keeps you from abandoning him. Even if he really has been a huge jerk to you.
Levi’s eyes close, and he exhales deeply.
“I need to talk to you.” His voice is tight, constrained. It makes your stomach flip.
“…Alright.”
Levi bites the inside of his cheek. “Not here. Just…” he exhales again. “when we’re home safe.” Though you want to press him further, you know you’re not going to get anything else out of him. Instead, you nod, closing your eyes to try and get some rest.
Slowly, you feel Levi’s hand creep over to rest on top of yours. You gently intertwine your fingers with his, fully aware that both of your chests are now pounding at the same pace.
-
Levi didn’t know how he’d even begin to breach what he needed to say to you. But in that moment, in the darkness of your shared space together in his bed, he hoped that his hand on yours wasn’t simply taken as a comforting gesture.
It was a promise.
309 notes · View notes
puffin-fanfics · 19 days
Note
Hi, can you do Jason Grace with reader, when he is in love with her but doesn’t say anything because she is someone that everyone adore and love, so Jason just fall really easy and one day he just confessed to her. SORRY I DON’T SPEAK ENGLISH
Beloved
Tumblr media
Jason grace x Aphrodite!reader
An: Hey! Hope you enjoy! Masterlist
Tumblr media
Jason watched countless boys ask out y/n to no avail. Tall, short, strong, weak: no one succeeded. He was now watching a son of Apollo flirt his way into a date with her. As a well loved daughter of Aphrodite, y/n had many suitors. She was gorgeous, funny, kind, caring, loving-
“Earth to Grace, what did that fork do to you?” Percy joked, glancing at the Aphrodite table then back to his friend, raising his eyes.
“Nothing, man. Just thinking.” Jason replied, as he quickly glanced back at y/n one last time before getting out of his seat. “Come one let’s go train.”
“Whipped you are, totally whipped.” Percy whispered so only Jason could hear. With a dirty look Jason stalked off with his friend chuckling behind him.
—————————————————————————-
At dinner it was even worse, even though Y/n sat right next to him they came in swarms. How was your day? Would you like to sit with us? Do you want to go to the lake with us? Jason had enough.
“I thought you looked very pretty today in archery today, blah blah blah!” Jason laughed mimicking one of the last campers to try their luck with Y/n.
“Stop, don’t be mean! He was sweet!” Giggled Y/n, turning to hit Jason’s arm. They sat shoulder to shoulder around the campfire, watching most campers leave to their cabins.
“Why do you never accept their invitations?”
“I like them, don’t get me wrong, but not in that way. I have my eyes on someone else.”
“Who?” Asked Jason nonchalantly. This was new, a seed of hope planted itself into his brain.
“No one you would know.” Y/n replied coolly.
“You sure? I know a lot of people here and at camp Jupiter.” He didn’t want to push too hard but he had to know. Was his feelings reciprocated?
“You really want to know huh? It’s almost as if you’re in love with me!” Chuckled Y/n, she watched him tinge pink at the ears and waited his response.
“Haha, no. Obviously not. You’re one of my closest friends” Jason rushed out, trying to save himself ur failing miserably.
“Imagine, we would be a mess if we were together.”
“Definitely” Jason felt like he was on fire- why did he think he had a chance. He barely heard what she was saying after , something about her sister, when he abruptly got up. “I’m going to bed, night.”
“Night, Jase!” Y/n called after him. Turning to go back to her cabin, she wondered what made him run away so fast.
Jason, on the other hand, the second he got into his cabin knew what he had to do:
1) Avoid Y/n
2) never let anyone find out about his feelings
3) wallow in self pity
—————————————————————————
Jason was successful in all three. He wallowed in bed for longer, didn’t talk about Y/n at all like and most importantly avoided the daughter of Aphrodite. For days he walked past her with only a fleeting greeting. He felt horrible for doing so but he kept on telling himself it was better than the shame of getting properly rejected.
It all came crashing down one evening. He sat on Zeus’s fist watching the sun set. It was the fifth day of his avoidance and he felt he was doing a good job. Life was normal apart from the as it can be for a demigod.
“I thought you didn’t like coming up here, grace” Y/n said, appearing out of nowhere. “Thought it reminded you of your absent father, as you like to call him”
“I suppose, needed to think.” Jason refused to look at her, to look her in the eyes and see her disgust.
“I don’t know why you’ve been avoiding me, I’m sorry if I said anything to hurt you. It was a joke, the whole you loving me thing. I know it’s not true-”
“It wasn’t a joke to me.” Jason whisper “This may ruin our friendship but here goes nothing. I do love you. I love the way you laugh, the way you always listen and speak and- I just love you. I can’t help it, I’m sorry I avoided you but I couldn’t look you in the eyes and keep this from you. Go, I know you don’t love me the way Iove you and that’s fine. Go tell everyone I’m obsessed or dumb enough to have a crush on the most beloved girl at camp. But don’t sit here and console me. I don’t need you to feel bad or sorry that you don’t actually like me. It’s fine, just don’t pity me, I’ll always love you even if you don’t love me.”
Jason’s outburst has lifted him to his feet and left him panting for the whisper confession turned into a passionate speech. He refused to look y/n in the eye. To see the disgust, the pity- y/n grabbed him. And kissed him like there was no tomorrow.
“I do love you Jason Grace. More than you could ever know and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner. I shouldn’t have-” Jason cut her off kissing her with all his might, wrapping his arms around her. The couple stayed in that embrace, bathing in their shared love. Jason’s list had been scrapped, he thanked the gods Aphrodite that it had been.
67 notes · View notes
orphicrose · 24 days
Note
What about rdr2 van der Linde Gang with a reader who stutters? I can imagine the reader being mostly quiet because of it, but at sind point they have to talk and I know people especially back then would make fun of it (Micah) and the gang standing up for reader.
He had it coming ( Camp x Fem!Reader)
Thank you for the request! I did do some research before i wrote this to make sure it was as realistic as possible. But i do apologies if it isn't so please let me know if i wrote it badly!
Warnings ! Micah, bullying, name calling.
---------------------------------------
The sad truth that a lot of people had to face during this era, was that nothing outside of social norms was taken seriously. Things like disabilities, appearances, or even sexuality, greeted with a mocking laugh or worse. Far worse. If you were lucky enough, you'd only be laughed at. But that didn't make it any better. The stereotypical cowboys that you were stuck with didn't make it easier. It's just one of those things you'd either accept or suppress over time.
In this situation, y/n suppressed it. Heavily. Growing up being beaten with insults, or fists because of it. The van der linde gang was somewhat outside of stereotypes, though. A lot of the members from all across the world; black, natives, Hispanic. Then there was Bill, everyone knew he played for the other team, despite the harsh denying and homophobia in return. But the point it, y/n got lucky with falling in with this specific group. Making judgements hard to give.
Y/n's 'issues' lied in her speech, being born with a stutter. It wasn't cute or dainty, it was annoying. What made it worse, the anxiety surrounding it. Sometimes she didn't stutter at all, around people like Arthur or Hosea. But around Micha, it was so much worse. Unbearable, even. The ignorance surrounding that man was almost unbelievable, even for the 1800s.
"Mornin, miss l/n" She was approached by a muscular shadow blocking the sun light from her position on the floor.
"Morning Arthur" Her smile infectious as he took a seat next to her, leaning back against a tree and pulling hit hat over his face. Shielding his eyes from the light. "Busy day today?"
He grunted, shifting in the soft lemoyne mud. "Uncles got a job set up" he failed at suppressing a laugh "Dunno how well it's gonna go."
Y/n chortled, imagining old Uncle out doing some real work. "We-well good luck. I'm glad I'm not joining y'all" her eyes returned to the easy reading of her book that Mary-Beth had lent to her.
Arthur hummed, relaxing in the hot air for as long as he could before his name was called to action.
"Arthur!" That wasn't uncles voice. He lowered his hat to see a nasty looking individual unfortunately strolling towards his direction.
"What do you want, Micah" His voice held hostility, reasonable hostility, as the greasy haired mans face was blinded by a ray of sunshine. Y/n huffed, clutching at the book harder to distract herself.
"Wanted to know what you're ta-ta-ta-talking about" He mocked y/n, without any subtleness about it. Y/n remained quite. It was sad to admit in any situation, but she had grown used to the constant mocking.
"Theres no need for that, is there?" Arthur raised to his feet without hesitation. Moving to get in Micahs face. Any excuse to punch him in the nose was a good excuse in his eyes,
"Now, now, Mister Morgan" The rat put his hands up in surrender, backing away with that smug grin still on his face. "It's just a harmless joke. No need to go out guns a blazin'"
"It's not supposed to be harmless, is it?" Arthurs fists clenched under his anger. Y/n rising to her feet behind him and putting a hand on the back of his shoulder.
"I-it's okay. Ar-Arthur" She mumbled, to which Micah laughed. Before he got the chance to get in the last word. Arthur had landed a heavy hit square in his face. Not wasting any time to wind it up before landing on his nose. Micah fell to the floor and began wailing about how his nose was broken. An audience soon formed around the rat writhing on the floor. Not much sympathy to be shared, but knowing glances at one another. Quiet laughs and 'he had it comings' shared between them before Dutch marched over. Clearing the group and making sure he was ok.
"Arthur, we've talked about this"
"I know, i know Dutch but-"
"The last thing we need right now is our gang turning against each other!"
Y/n could hear the two arguing in Dutch's tent, biting at her nails with worry. It was her fault, she thought. A hand landed on her back, spinning to see tilly with a sad smile.
"Its okay" She offered. "That rat had it coming. Arthur did everyone a favor" just thinking about him on the floor, in pain, brought serotonin to her.
"I-I guess" y/n mumbled
"No need to be ashamed, darlin" she took y/ns hands in hers. "you're perfect as is".
58 notes · View notes
vendetta-if · 9 months
Note
Happy Father's day to our Papa Viktor 😭❤️ can we request a short scenario of them celebrating Father's day pls? 🥺
Aww 🥰 Of course! The scenario ends up being a bit longer than I expected, so I have put it under the cut! ❤️
Father’s Day Drabble — Viktor
You are sitting on a bench in the arcade, watching your kid and Ash flitting around from one game to the next, skipping around excitedly. It never fails to make you smile, seeing them so happy.
They’ve been in the Arcade for a couple of hours now, maybe more. Usually, you don’t really let them stay for this long, but today’s an exception.
If someone had told you that you’d be a father eight years ago, you probably would have laughed in their face. But here you are, spending the day hanging out and celebrating Father’s Day with your child and their best friend.
You remember how you used to celebrate Father’s Day with your father too. He was such a busy man—and still is, you’d wager—but even he had always managed to make time to spend with his family, even if it rarely span the whole day like this.
He’d cancel and rearrange meetings with important people, just so he could have lovely and peaceful dinners or lunches with you, Luka, and your mother. And most times, he would hang out and talk with you and Luka or even sit down and watch some movies that Luka picked.
You sigh wearily. It’s memories like these that sometimes make you really want to reach out to him first. And then, you’d remind yourself why you ran away and usually, it’d be enough for you to shoot down the idea instantly.
But not this time.
It has been years since you last met him and your mother face-to-face, and Luka, your mother, and even Cara have been asking and begging you to go to New York for a visit.
Just the other day, your mother talked to you over the phone about throwing a private and small Christmas celebration later this year and how you should come with Sasha, Luka, Cara, and Ash. She even told you about how she and your father have been dying inside to meet their very first grandchild.
It made you feel guilty and the guilt is still eating at your heart right now. You feel yourself caving in.
“Maybe. I’ll see,” you answered her, and that was enough to lift up her mood and you could hear the hint of joy seeping into her tone.
And it was not until the call was over and you were lying in bed at night that you fully realized that you were not lying to her. You actually are contemplating on visiting them this Christmas with Sasha.
Well, you still have months to make up your mind about it. For now, you’ll just set it aside and enjoy this day with your child.
You see Sasha and Ash playing at the basketball arcade machine. Ash is throwing ball after ball at the hoop and the score quickly climbing up, while Sasha is intently focused on grabbing and passing the balls to Ash, tongue stuck out in concentration.
You chuckle at their impressive teamwork. And sure enough, a few seconds later, the machine stops and spews out a long line of tickets. Sasha and Ash whoop and high-five. Sasha hands the other tickets they have been accumulating to Ash before bending down and grabbing the new line of tickets, quickly counting them one by one as they roll the long line into a more manageable size.
Sasha finishes counting and pumps their fist in excitement before the two of them bound toward where you’re sitting.
“Dad! Dad! Where’s the rest of the tickets? I think we have enough!” Sasha babbles almost breathlessly.
You pat the little plastic bag full of tickets beside you. Those are the tickets that the two of them have saved up before today.
“Don’t worry, it’s safe with me,” you chuckle as you hand it over to Sasha who quickly snatches it.
“Thanks, Dad! Wait here, okay? We’re going to trade these in and then we’re ready to go!” Sasha grins before taking off towards the ticket counter, Ash swiftly trailing behind them.
“Hey! Don’t run so fast or you’ll trip!” you call out after them and you see them slow down a bit into a jog. You shake your head exasperatedly.
Five minutes later, the two of them return but you can’t see whatever toy they exchanged the tickets for in their hands and Sasha is bowing their head.
“Did you have any trouble exchanging the tickets?” you ask, frowning as you lean forward.
Sasha shakes their head and before you can blink, they launch themself at you and bury their face in your chest. You hug them back, still surprised, but then you feel their body shake.
And for a second, you’re ready to stomp up to the ticket counter to have a talk with the staff. Thankfully, you haven’t moved yet because Sasha lifts their head and instead of a teary face, you see a widely grinning face.
“Sasha?” you ask, confused.
“Happy Father’s Day, Dad!” they exclaim, pulling out a black metal ring.
“Is… Is that for me?” you gape, reaching out tentatively.
“Yes! Who else?” Sasha giggles.
You take the ring gently in your hand and inspect it. It’s just a simple band of black metal with chrome accent. It might look like nothing special, but to you, it has become one of your most important possessions.
“I have one too! So we can match!” Sasha lifts up an identical ring and shows it to you. “I can’t wear it yet though, because it’s still a bit loose…” they pout. “Can you wear it, Dad?”
You try to put it on, but it’s stuck on the second knuckle. Sasha’s shoulders slump in disappointment.
“Hey, hey. Don’t be sad! I really love the gift! Thank you, baby,” you quickly reassure them. “We’ll get chains so we can hang it around our neck. How about that?”
Sasha perks up. “Whoa! That’s a really good idea, Dad!” They hand their ring to you. “Can you help hold it for me in the meantime, Dad? I don’t want to lose it.”
“Of course, baby,” you say, putting the two rings in the inner pocket of your jacket safely. “Now, who’s up for some ice cream?” you ask as you take them in your arms and stand up.
“Me! Me!” Sasha squeals, kicking their little legs excitedly. “I want the cookies and cream flavour!”
“How about you, Ash?” you ask, as you take their hand in yours.
“Rocky Road!” they answer eagerly. “Or maybe I’ll try a new flavour!”
“Alright,” you chuckle. “Let’s go then.”
229 notes · View notes
gojos-thot-patrol · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Sukuna was a long forgotten God, one with only one true devotee left. And he would do anything to keep his high priestess safe.
NSFW God!Sukuna x HighPriestess!Reader. lots of religous refences and symbolism, heads up. also full of Mahito slander. an attempted (and failed) assult attempt. Blood kink if you squint. I believe thats it for TWs. 18+ only minors DNI, reader is AFAB and uses she/her. i wrote this while very very drunk. no beta reader, we die as men. no editor we die as fools.
Tumblr media
On the edge of the village, deep in the woods, across the river and past the graveyard, there stands a long forgotten temple. Though, “stands” is pretty generous these days if you were being honest with yourself. The temple had fallen into your family's care you don't even know how long ago. That record had long since been lost to time, as well as any record of the temple even standing, thanks to your 7 times great grandfather. Your family had at one point taken great pride in maintaining the temple, but, since sorcery came to your extremely small village and took over as the dominant religion, running a temple of any sort could have gotten you killed. 
And your family just so happened to worship Sukuna, a god deemed the worst of the worst by the sorcerers. It made maintaining the temple almost impossible. And with the death of your father, you were left as the last of your bloodline. The last person that would ever care for that holy ground. These are the thoughts that plagued your mind as you made the hike to what you genuinely considered to be your safe space. The place that your mind summoned when you closed your eyes and envisioned home. You grunted as you opened the door, noticing that it was starting to stick again. Yea, the winter was coming. That checked.
The only thing that stood truly tall in this church for a heretic was a 7ft tall marble statue, representing the visage of your god. At least you think it did. You’d never met the man (being?) personally. “I’m sorry I’m late my lord,” you muttered softly to the marble as you knelt by the altar in front of it. You’d taken to talking more casually to Sukuna these days. Despite being a literal God, he was the only being (entity?) you had ever felt comfortable talking to. “Mandatory worship ran late today, though, I suppose there's nothing new there.”
Despite the relationship a priestess should have with her deity, you had taken to almost considering Sukuna to be a friend of yours. Should you do that? Probably not. But, as far as you knew, you were the last person in the world that worshiped this God, and as far as you were concerned, that met you got to decide how best to honor him. 
You spoke freely with the god as you placed the offerings on his altar, a long ornate table with a plush velvety cloth running along its length. The offerings were nothing special. Some roses from your garden, a few gold you were able to spare, and some coffee. You had brought enough for 2 cups, enough to share. As you placed the offerings, you swore the statue behind the table warmed, the energy in it changing from cold stone to something with more life in it, as if Sukuna himself had awoken to spend yet another evening listening to you.
Of course, you had no way of knowing that was literally what was happening. It had become how Sukuna kept track of the days, marking each one with a visit from his high priestess. He watched from the statue's eyes as you curled up at its base with your coffee and a book. He noticed a cup next to him. 
“Oh, how cute.” he thought to himself, “We’re sharing coffee now…I used to kill people.” he groaned to no one, rolling his eyes inside the stone.  It annoyed Sukuna to no end how long it had been since he’d been summoned. It wouldn’t take much, her unshakeable faith in him had kept him relatively strong. A blood sacrifice was all he was asking. Any trivial reason would do, any excuse to escape this miserable marble. He resented your however many great grandfathers for burning the information on how to properly worship him.
“Mahito came to ask for my hand in marriage again today.” you told your god as you sipped your coffee.
“Oh, this fucking guy again.” Sukuna growled. That failed science experiment of a man had been harassing you for months now. “I’ll slaughter him for you. Just let me out of this marble hell.”
“He said I couldn’t keep denying him forever.”
“Yes you can.”
“I told him I very well could.”
“Good.”
“Then he told me that no one else in the village wanted me. And that if I keep this up I’d just die an old hag.” you sighed into your cup.
“I’d rather you die a hag than touch him.” Sukuna scoffed. He couldn’t imagine his last priestess being violated by that unloved rag doll. 
“I said better a hag than his wife. I’d rather cut my hand off than touch that breathing corpse.”
“Atta girl.” Sukuna smiled. He didn’t know if you felt his influence that strongly or if you were just inherently on the same wavelength as him. Whatever the case was, He couldn’t remember liking any of his other followers quite as much as he liked you. Not that he’d ever admit it. For him, an immortal god of war and death, to care for a mortal was disgraceful at best and a sin unto itself at worst. Still, he knew a part of him would mourn you when your inevitable last breath escaped you. 
“Honestly my lord, every day I come just a little bit closer to faking my death and running to live the rest of my life here, away from the village.” you announced, agitation lacing your voice. Honestly, Sukuna wasn’t against the idea. At least then he’d always have you near. “I know it’s my duty to bear children so your worship continues after I'm gone, but the men in this village are truly insufferable my Lord! Couldn’t you send me just a half decent one? I’ll settle for one that showers!”
Yeaa, that wasn’t really in Sukuna’s wheelhouse. Besides, He’d given up long ago on his worship being continued after you were gone anyway. He wished he would find a way to tell you that. That he’d rather have no followers than a follower that came from any of those filthy fucks touching you. He thought for a moment, then summoned what he hoped was a sign. 
“Oh! A spider friend!” you laughed as you noticed a garden spider crawling up your leg. You took it in your hand, knowing Sukuna was historically considered the father of spiders due to his many arms and eyes. “I must have said something you liked, hmm?” you purred, gently placing the friend at the statue's base. “Does this mean you will send me someone?”
Sukuna decided that signs were utterly ineffective against humans, because everytime he sent one they fucked it up. He’d have to just spell it out for her. And he would! If she would just SUMMON HIS CORPOREAL FORM, FOR FUCKS SA-
“Oh dear, it’s getting late isn’t it? “ you muttered, packing up your things. “I should return home…” you never wanted to. As far as you were concerned, this was home. Here, in the woods you grew up in, hidden by the walls you had entered every day since you came to age, next to possibly the last idol of your god left in the world. But, sadly, if you choose to just up and leave, people would look for you. And you couldn’t risk them coming here. 
“Goodbye, my lord.” you muttered, moving around the altar, stretching on your tip toes and still only managing to kiss his sculpted robes. You chuckled to yourself. The sculpture was so nice, even all these years later you still expect the cloth to give at your touch. 
“Goodbye Y/n.” Sukuna sighed as he watched you ready yourself to leave. So ends another day. You gathered your things and made your way back to your little cottage at the edge of your village. 
~~~~~~
The walk back to your place was as uneventful as ever. It was peaceful even. The moon was full and bright, lighting your way easily through the dark woods, and you didn’t even feel a little spooked when you passed through the graveyard. But, that wasn’t really anything new. You always felt more confident after visiting Sukunas altar. It may have sounded crazy to others (I mean, it sounded a little crazy to you,) but you swore you could feel your Gods protection as you walked home.
That was until your cottage came into view. You didn’t know why at first, but when it came into view your blood turned to ice. Your body instinctively stopped, knowing the danger before your brain did. Why were you so scared? Then it hit you. The lights were on inside. You never leave the lights on when you leave your home. Hell, you barely had the lights on when you were home, they were far too bright and you could think of nothing more opposed to your soul than sitting with them on when they didn’t need to be. That's what candles and table lamps were for, not the main light.
So then why the fuck was the main light on? Your body went into defense mode, which..was honestly just the symptoms of a panic attack coming on. Your mouth became a desert, your stomach threatened a violent revolt, and your heart decided to run a marathon. You could feel spiders crawling up your spine, as if they were telling you to walk away. Don't go in there, return to the safety of your shrine. But when you touched your spine, you found nothing there. 
Your entire being was shouting at you to turn around, That that house held something dangerous inside. But you had never been one to listen to your instincts. And you had contraband in there. Journals filled with your day to day activities. Including your worship habits. Confessional after confessional sat on a bookshelf in your living room. How could you have been so foolish? You mentally apologized to your ancestors for being angry at them with burning ancient texts, and ran to your demise. 
You honestly should have been less surprised by what you found. “Oh, Y/n. You're home.” Mahito greeted you, looking up from one of your many journals as you walked into your living room. Your eyes didn’t meet his though. You were more focused on the knife shining in his free hand. That didn’t come from your kitchen. Why did he have it? Mahito was more than annoyed now. He was standing in your home and yet you still had the audacity to ignore him? He closed the book with a soft thud and stood up from your couch, walking over to you.
Suddenly, you were forced to make eye contact with his cold mismatched eyes. He had grabbed you by your cheeks and forced you to look at him, his grip tightening as you struggled to move away. “My my Y/n…look at the mess you’ve gotten yourself into now.” he sighed.
“Let me go!” you demanded. He pulled you closer.
“But I can't do that dollface. You’ve been practicing curse worship! I should report you to the church, you know that right?” he faked a sigh, his voice dripping with pity, but his eyes enjoying your pain a little too much.
“No! You wouldn’t do that! You hate the church as much as I do!” you gasped as he brought the knife to your face.
“No, you’re right. I wouldn’t, and I do. It would be much more efficient to just kill you myself, then show your diaries to the church as a defense.” you hated the fact that he’d get away with your murder by showing the church leaders some bound paper, but..it was still a fact that he would.
“Mahito, please..” you whimpered.
“Please what doll? Make a deal with you?” he asked, pulling your body unwillingly closer to his. He nestled the cool steel of his hunting blade into your cheek, and became all too preoccupied with your chest. “We could do that..but of course, I’m going to want something for my silence..”
Oh, fuck that! If you were going to die anyway, you were gonna die fighting. You Violently shook your head, freeing your face from his grasp and cutting your cheek in the process. You reached up and grabbed his knife by the blade, not even feeling it slice your hand open as you rammed your forehead into his nose. The pain that pulsed through Mahitos skull in electric waves forced him to stumble back.  
“You fucking cunt!” he roared, regaining his balance. But, you were already out the door, running for your life to the woods. When nowhere else was safe, your shrine was.  You could hear Mahito stumbling after you, determined to finish what he started. You began to pray with everything you had that you’d at least survive the night. Not that you needed to. The moment you had felt you were in danger, Sukuna had been hyper aware of you. 
In his current state though? His hands were all but tied. All he could do was will you to his side, and hope the temple would scare him off. He watched as you burst through the temple door, almost knocking it off of its old hinges in your desperation. His outlook on the situation greatly approved as he saw the crimson dripping from you. 
“My lord!” you yelled despite yourself, running to the shrine. 
“Look at you, you pathetic wench! Calling out for a god that doesn't even exist!” Mahito yelled as he entered the temple behind you. You fell onto the table, your bleeding face and hand in the offering altar. “And now, you’re going to die here, screaming for help that won’t come!”
“Sukuna!” you yelled, not entirely sure why. It seemed to work though. While normally there was supposed to be more showmanship and bravado involved with summoning Sukunas corporeal form, he’d make an exception all things considered. The candles in the temple all went out as an ice cold wind blew through the thin walls, and lighting cracked the sky, so violently even Mahito had to pause to take notice.
The very foundation of your small temple began to shake, causing the roof to rain down spackle. You covered your head with your arms, blocking the view. “What the, who the fuck are you!?” you heard Mahito yell in confusion as the smell of pine and iron filled the room,
“I’m the God that doesn’t even exist.” a rough unknown yet familiar voice said. It was like a poisonous honey, sweet with the promise of death. “And you're in my temple. Harassing my high priestess. And I can not let that slide.” No fucking way. You thought to yourself. You opened your eyes to see the back of an impossibly tall, muscular man. He was covered in tattoos, with too pretty to be on him pink hair. Oh, and he had four arms.  Is that?..
“Oh, are you now?” Mahito asked, ever the incredulous one. “Well then, what are you going to do about it?!”
“I’m going to kill you.” Sukuna said, deciding that sugar coating it would be a disservice to both of them. I guess Mahito didn’t see that the man in front of him was seven feet tall, or that he had four arms. Or maybe Mahito forgot this was a Sukuna fic, and he was the villain. We don’t know what went through his head. What we do know is he ran at Sukuna, knife up ready to kill. He didn’t get very far though. Sukuna grabbed him by the throat the moment he was in arms reach.
“You don’t listen very well, do you punk?” Sukuna asked as the small man struggled for air in his hands. “I didn’t expect you to. My priestess has told me all about your refusal to take no for an answer.” Sukuna pulled Mahito close to him, getting a good look at his face. He was far less than impressed. “I don’t like it when others try to play with things that are mine. And you’re notorious for that.”
His claws dug deeper, drawing blood. Sukuna watched as horror filled the blue haired man’s eyes, and it sent a rush of blood straight to his head. He grinned. Gods, he missed this. “Not only that, but after harassing my girl, you come to my temple and disrespect me. I was going to make this quick at first,” no, he wasn't. “But now? I think I’ll take my time.”
You covered your eyes again as your God got to work, not wanting to see his bloody creative process. Mahitos screams were unlike anything you had ever heard before or would ever hear since. The sounds of someone begging for mercy, then for help, then for death is a sound that becomes etched into the human soul. You wanted to feel bad for him, but you couldn’t help but feel like he deserved it. 
It felt like hours before the man had finally fallen silent. In the quiet aftermath, you heard footsteps coming toward you. “Are you hurt?” the man (being? entity?..deity?) from before asked, noticeably less edge in his voice. You felt a heavy hand rest on your shoulder, and you finally opened your eyes. “It’s..it’s really you.” you muttered softly. Sukuna gave a sly grin.
“In the flesh,” he confirmed. You quickly remembered your place under him, and scrambled to your knees to pray. You..should have taken worship waaayyy more seriously than you had. 
“Oh, don’t do that.” Sukuna scoffed. You had been far too casual with him in the past to start doing shit like that now. It felt unnatural. “Look at me Y/n.” he demanded. You were not one to refuse an order when given to you by a god. You looked up at him with giant doe eyes that would have pulled on his heartstrings if he had one. He inspected your cheek, brushing the blood away with his thumb. Disgust filled his blood as he realized someone else had left their mark on his shrine maiden. But, at least they did a shit job of it. It wouldn’t scar.
“Hand” he said, extending his own. You placed your injured hand palm up in his clawed one. He inspected the cut, maybe a little longer than he really needed too. It always fascinated him the way humans bleed and how easily they did so. That liquid crimson gave them life, and yet they were always so quick to lose it. He brought your palm to his surprisingly soft lips, kissing the wound gently. And bringing you to your feet. Your blood tasted sweet to him. He wondered what else tasted sweet.
For the first time you got a good look at the deity you had been worshiping. He looked at you with four maroon eyes, burning into yours. Your heart skipped a beat and you couldn’t help but mentally compare him to a puppy. Ok, well, maybe not a puppy. More like a fighting dog. All of his features held the pain of war, his clenched jaw, his muscular body, the way his very presence demanded and commanded fear, the cold steel he held in his eyes. Even so, beyond all that cold steel and rage, his eyes held a softness you had no way of knowing was reserved for you.    
“Thank you.” you whispered, finally finding your breath. You forced yourself to look away from Sukuna.
“For what?” he asked, though he already knew your answer. 
“For, well..I mean..” you vaguely gestured over to the pile of red goo formerly known as Mahito.
“Killing him?” Sukuna asked, raising a sculpted eyebrow at you.
“Yea..” you gulped, looking over at the massacre, then down. They were gonna need a sponge to get him into his funeral… “You took care of a major problem for me..”
“I know.” It was like you had forgotten all those conversations you had with him. Or you didn’t realize he heard them all, even through the thick barrier of the marble. “Don’t be confused mortal, I didn’t do this just for you. He was a  problem for me too.” you suddenly felt embarrassment explode in your chest.
“O-oh, of course! How silly of me to think that a divine being would sully their hands just for me, I think I must forget myse-”
“Stop that.” Sukuna tsked, shutting you up instantly. “Were you not listening earlier mortal? He was a problem for me because he wanted to possess you. And I don’t like it when entitled fucks try to touch what’s mine.”
Oh. He considered you to be his property. You supposed that checked out. You had dedicated your life to him after all. “I just..I can’t believe you're real.” You muttered despite yourself. That almost offended Sukuna.
“That so? So tell me then, do all humans make a habit of bringing their imaginary friends offerings, or are you just the odd one out here Y/n?”
“Oh, come on, you’re a God! You know that's not what I meant!” you argued, forgetting that it wasn’t your friend you were arguing with, but a literal god of death, destruction, ruin and war. Someone that could tear you asunder with just a flick of their wrist. “I ment like…I can’t believe you're here and well…real! In the flesh! Something corporeal that I can touch and not just a distant entity..”
Sukuna was smirking at your little outburst. This is how he loved you. When you forgot where you stood before him. “I assure you darling, I’m real.” he promised, amusement leaking into his voice.
“But you shouldn’t be.” You reminded him, “So, It’s hard to believe..” your body froze as you realized Sukuna was walking closer to you. He stood mere centimeters away from you. You felt suddenly overwhelmed with his presence, he was suffocating, filling your senses with nothing but him. A divine sense of warmth and a blood chilling sense of dread and danger. He leaned down, his face so close you could feel his hot breath wash over you.
“Do you want me to prove to you just how real I am?” he asked. Your brain couldn't register the question. You were too focused on mentally tracing the lines on his face.
“I-I..” you mutter, looking for words other than may I please see your cock my lord, I want to see if it’s tattooed as well.
“I-I-I,” Sukunas mocking forced you back into focus, “What’s wrong pet? Deity got your tongue? What happened to all that tough talk from earlier?” Sukuna cooed mockingly.
“Would it be sacrilegious if I touched you, my Lord?..” you muttered softly, your mouth spitting out words your brain gave it no permission too. Sukuna grinned, your words going straight to his dick. 
“Oh, most definitely.” He promised, closing the gap between you two. His hands found your hips, rubbing circles into them with his thumbs as he pulled you closer to him. His touch sent static to your core. “I'm no fertility God, fucking isn’t typically allowed in my temple.” fucking. He said it as an insult. “In fact, the very act of you lusting for me like this is considered sacrilegious.”
You felt dirty. You should have known better. Fantasizing about a supreme being in their own temple, how shameless were you? Not to mention self absorbed, thinking a God would be intimate with a lowly mortal like you. You suddenly become hyper aware of his every touch.
“But, I’ll make an exception for my favorite shrine maiden.” he purred into your ear, his head dipping down to kiss your neck, one of his unoccupied hands coming up to move your head to give him more room to work with. If his touch was static, then his kiss was pure lighting. Any thoughts that you shouldn’t be doing this melted from your mind as you relaxed into his arms. A soft purr escaped your lips, bringing a grin to his face.
His last free hand moved in between the two of you, finding the waistband of your skirt. A small gasp left your mouth as he slipped his clawed hand under it, using said claw to cut a slit in your underwear right where your folds are. You felt your heart race with anxiety and excitement as he ran his long fingers along your slit. 
“So needy, aren't you pet?” he groaned softly. “I’ve barely even touched you and you're already dripping for me. So cute.” He mocked, his finger brushing against your nub. You whimpered softly, trying to move your hips for more friction, but his hands held you still. Curse him for having four arms, and curse your monsterfucking heart for being so into it.
“All for you..” you muttered softly, “Please...I-I need your touch my Lord..” Embarrassment burned you as you spoke. “I beg..” Your words went straight to Sukunas already hardening cock. The way you whined for him, like a desperate sinner begging for forgiveness. As if his touch and his touch alone could save you from damnation, when in reality, it was your one way ticket to hell. 
Sukuna moved your head so he could get a better look at your still bleeding cheek, licking the blood away as he finally began to massage your swollen clit. Ecstasy pulsed through you as you moaned out your god's name. “You like that, don't you Heathen?” Sukuna taunted you, adjusting to slip his finger inside you, rubbing his thumb against your nub. You nodded dumbly, focusing on how he seemingly instantly found your G spot. “It’s so good..” you muttered.
Sukuna held back a laugh. Of course it was good. He knew your body better than any mortal man ever would, before he even touched you. He slipped another digit into your weeping pussy, forcing a moan from you. “Look at me Y/n.” He demanded. You forced your eyes open, unsure when you even closed them. You stared into his molten crimson eyes, an intensity drilling into your soul that forced you into submission. 
Sukuna licked his lips as he stared into your tear pricked eyes, watching you desperately try to keep it together while he pumped his fingers into you. You looked even better than he ever could have imagined. And you we’re only going to look prettier the more fucked out you got. He caught your lips in a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth before you could even register what was happening. 
You moaned softly into his kiss, losing yourself in him. He was all consuming. His lips were soft and plump, his fingers moved with expert skill, between the electric storm forcing your toes to curl and the fiery passion that filled your head with smoke, you forgot everything that wasn’t Sukuna. You could feel a knot forming in your stomach, threatening to break. His thumb focused on your clit, switching from lazy half circles to massaging with precision and purpose. A moan ripped out of your lungs and you felt your breathing become more labored. 
“Sukuna, I-I’m,”
“I know you are.” Sukuna growled, focused on bringing you over the edge. He could feel the way your walls clenched around him, the way you gushed around his claws. The sound was obscene. “Cum for me darling,” he ordered, his mouth latching onto your neck to leave evidence of his ownership there.
It was as if your body didn’t know how not to follow the deity's command. The knot inside you snapped, waves of pleasure crashing into you and pulling you under as your cunt convulsed around his fingers. His name ripped its way out of your lungs as ecstasy shot through you, your vision turning white hot. Sukuna finger fucked you through your high, feeling his dick ache for you as he watched your blissed out face contour with pleasure.
“That's it slut,” he purred, “Cum all over your god.” you whimpered as your body finally relented, letting you look up at him. You’d never cum that hard on your life. Was this what it was like to be intimate with divinity? He removed his fingers from your dripping pussy and sucked them clean, humming in satisfaction. “You taste just as good as I thought you would.” he praised. 
“Thank you my lord..” You muttered, unsure what else to do here. 
“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, Pet.” Sukuna laughed. “I've waited for centuries to be summoned into my physical form, and I’ve waited far too long to fuck you to let you tap out now.” He chuckled darkly. He should be more embarrassed, frankly, That he was a God, a being of pure divinity and holy spite, that was desperately lusting for a human. But he was also the last of his kind. Who the hell was there for him to be embarrassed for? “On your knees, slut.” He growled.
You feel to your knees without having to even think about it. It was honestly your natural position in this holy temple. Sukuna looked down at you, on your knees, your head bowed before him, as if in the middle of prayer. It made his already impossibly hard cock twitch, desperate to sully you even further. It was times like these Sukuna wondered if he was really a god or just a demon parading around like one. 
Doesn't matter. He rid himself of his robe, finally freeing his straining cock. “Look up.” He commanded you. You did so, your eyes filling with shock as you came face to face with the cock that was going to ruin you. Your innocent eyes widened as you forced yourself to look away from his dick and make eye contact with the devilish deity. He looked down at you with dark eyes.
“Don’t be so frightened. You can handle this.” He assured you, grabbing the back of your head and urging you to take him in. you licked your lips and wrapped your mouth around him, determined to please your god. Sukuna had a pretty cock, long and far thicker than you would have expected. And yes by the way, it was tattooed, just like the rest of his body. You sucked on his leaking pink tip, your hands moving to massage the prominent vein on his shaft. You moved to take as much of him in your mouth as possible, your hand handling (ha) everything that wouldn't fit. 
Sukuna tangled his clawed hands into your hair, his hips rutting into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. You gagged around him, pulling a satisfied moan from Sukunas lips. You could feel the intensity of his eyes drilling down into you. You imagined this is what a bunny felt like when spotted by a wolf. You willed your eyes to look up at him, and felt ice run down your spine and straight to your soaking cunt. All four of his eyes were blown to hell with lust, a burning need to touch you in ways no mortal ever had before. If he had it his way, you’d be addicted to ‘worship’ before the night was over.
“That's right pet, just like that.” he praised you, before very abruptly slamming his entire length into you, forcing you to gag around him. “Your mouth feels so good princess,” He cooed, looking down as tears began to stream from your face. You’d think that may have slowed him down, but in reality it had the very opposite effect. Sukuna had never seen anything sexier. It set an explosion off in his blood and mind. He was suddenly done playing.
He pulled you off his cock, groaning at the sight. You looked up at him with a tear stained face, confusion in your red eyes, a string of spit connecting your puffy lips to his cock. He wanted to paint a picture of the scene and hang it in a museum. Wanted to frame the work of art and hang it in every temple that had ever been dedicated to him. He pulled you off the floor and into his arms, carrying you to the sturdiest wall his temple had left.
“M-my lord?..” you asked weakly. His touch burned your body in all the most exquisite ways. The feeling of being touched and desired by that was untouchable was forever engraved into your mortal flesh. He pushed you up against the wall, two arms holding you up and two arms ripping off your blouse. “M-my lord,” you tried again, “Should we really-”
You were cut off by an absolutely sinful moan ripping from your throat as Sukuna's mouth wrapped around your hardening nipple. His now free hands we’re bunching your skirt around your hips, finishing the job from earlier and ripping your panties in 2. Anxiety and excitement exploded in your chest as you felt the tip of his cock glide along your folds. Two hands continued to hold you up, one finding your exposed breast and massaging it while the final hand intertwined itself with your injured palm. Salt from sweat filled your open wound, stinging it and spilling blood into his own hand.
“Beg for me Princess.” He demanded, teasing your entrance with the head of his dick.
“Please! Please fuck me Sukuna!” you panted out, trying to grind your hips down onto him, desperate for any friction. A desire unlike any you had ever known overtook you. “Please! Fuck me, I need it. Leave your mark on me, fill me, do whatever you want to me, but please I need your cock inside me.”
Sukuna would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little taken aback by just how vulgar his little shrine maiden could get. He’d also be lying if he said he wasn’t beyond into it. “Look at me.” He demanded, holding your gaze as he finally lowered you onto his throbbing cock, pulling you down to his hilt. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he split you open in the most delicious way. Your head back as you savored the burn he sent through you. 
“You’re so fucking tight.” Sukuna groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he lost himself in your warm velvety walls. He would have cum right then and there if he was any closer to mortality than he already was. “I’m going to mold this cunt to my cock.” He said, pulling back just to slam you right back down onto him. He set a ruthless pace, slow yet hard. He wanted to take every moment of you that he could. You moaned out his name as a broken prayer, dragging your nails down his back to try and ground yourself in reality. Nothing was real about this.
“‘So good…” you moaned, unable to form words.
“I know.” He chuckled darkly, quickly deciding his favorite version of you was the fucked out one. “What kind of god would I be if I couldn't please my priestess?” he hummed, littering marks wherever he could on your neck. He squeezed your thighs tight enough to leave bruises, and made sure to brush your g spot with every stroke of his cock. An unholy symphony of your sounds filled the once holy temple.
You could feel your skin heating up as electricity coursed through your blood. You lost sight of everything that wasn’t the divine cock punishing your pussy for every sin you had ever committed. You tangled your free hand into his hair. Trying and failing to catch your breath as a now familiar knot formed inside your abdomen. 
“Fuck, Y/n,” Sukuna moaned, catching your lips with his. “You’re taking me so well, it’s almost like this cunt was made for me. What do you think Pet?” He asked with a particularly hard thrust to your cervix. You nodded without thinking.
“Yes! Yes, lord, yes!” you moaned breathlessly. Sukuna grinned, looking down at you through half lidded eyes.
“I was hoping you’d agree.” he moaned, his hand slitting itself in between the two of you and rubbing calculated circles into your clit. You screamed out his name at the added stimulation, so close to the edge it hurt. 
“Oh God, I- fuck..” You spoke through broken moans.
“Look at you, calling for me like a whore when I'm right here.” Sukuna mocked, “Still doubting if Im real or not?” if you could have formed a thought, you would have said ‘no my lord, not any more.’ but at that moment, your brain only had one thought.
“I’m gonna cum! Gonna cum, please, let me cum-” you begged for him.
“Cum for me darling.” He moaned, basking in the way you came undone around him. The way your pussy squeezed him was divine, your legs locking him in place as he rocked into you, helping you ride out your right. He was lost in the way you felt, your pleasure the greatest offering he’d been given. Euphoria and ecstasy washed over you in intense waves, so much so you thought you might suffocate. It was overwhelming in all the best ways. 
Sukuna felt you gushing around him and couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He came undone, spilling his divinity into you in white hot spurts. Your fluids mixing together as Sukuna fucked his holy seed back inside you, riding out both of your highs.
You went limp in his arms, his head rested on your shoulder as you both struggled to catch your breath. “My god..” you muttered softly.
“Yes?” Sukuna asked with a light chuckle. You softly hit his shoulder, as if that was going to do anything. He pulled out of you, letting the warm fluids drip down your legs. He adjusted your position in his arms. Holding you bridal style as he walked you over to his altar, arguably the most comfortable place in his table. He laid you down as if you were an offering to him, holy and sacred in your own right. 
He chuckled when he saw you reach out for him. He was going to ignore you, but cuddled up beside you on the table despite himself. He couldn’t get enough of your mortal warmth.  It was comfortable having you in his arms. He could get used to this. How bad could fucking your last devotee be anyway? He liked this.
“The townspeople are going to surely ask about Mahito.” you muttered. You had to ruin it, didn’t you?
“Don’t worry about them darling.” Sukuna muttered, pulling you closer to him in hopes of lulling you to sleep. 
“How can I not, my lord?” you asked with those innocent eyes Sukuna was growing to love and loath.
“Because in the morning I’m going to burn your village to the ground with everyone in it.” Sukuna didn’t mince words. You were his follower, you knew what he was about.
“Oh, I see.” you nodded, not bothering to talk him out of it. You didn’t want to talk him out of it.
“Yes. so get some sleep Darling. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.” he said, pulling you into his chest, keeping you more than warm while you slept.
874 notes · View notes
chrisevansonly · 1 year
Text
Helping Hand
Dad!Chris Evans x Wife!Reader
Summary: Chris really loves to workout in your home gym, especially since the pandemic and virus season, he loved the idea of having his own workout space all to himself. Funny enough when you can’t find your three year old daughter Arlie, check the gym, and you might find her attached to her dad’s hip
Warnings: non, straight pure fluffy dad Chris, sassy Arlie
A/N: Baby Arlie is back to making an appearance!! I adore this pairing so much it rots my teeth, I think I’m going to divide my masterlist and add a Dad!Chris/ Dad + Arlie Section, let me know what you think, this one may be a little shorter, hopefully not horrible lmao but happy reading!!
Word Count: 846
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Little Arlie girl was the epitome of her father’s shadow, following him around whenever and wherever she could, especially now that she was walking more and handling stairs better. That wasn’t to say you and Chris didn’t still watch her like a hawk in case she needed a hand or fell, but she was getting more and more independent every day. It was often days like today when Chris was off in your home gym completing his daily workout, whether it was legs, chest or arms, Arlie always found a way to weasel her little self into the gym to be with her daddy. So when you called her name for snack time and didn’t get a response, you made your way into the den where you’d left her last only to find her colouring book open and water bottle where she left it on the coffee table. 
“That little bug…”
You couldn’t help but laugh quietly knowing just how good of an escape artist she was, so you tidied her markers up and walked your way down the hall and to the steps leading into the basement. When you opened the door, you could hear her giggles and little squeals as she and Chris worked through their weight session together
“I stronger than you daddy!”
The sight at the bottom of the stairs bringing a smile to your face, she had her set of dumbbells, which weighed virtually nothing in her hands, while Chris was on his back, two green and yellow weights on his chest to keep him to the floor
“I think you certainly are dove, I think I need some help!”
Arlie put her weights down and placed her tiny hands on her hips in a superman like pose and sighed 
“I help you on one ‘dition daddy.”
You laughed at her shortened version of the word condition, because it was just the cutest thing in the world listening to her learning and practicing new words. At the sound of your laugh Arlie looked to you and clapped 
“Hi mommy!!”
Chris smiled too, practically identical to your little girl 
“Yeah, hi mommy”
“Hi you two, what’s going on down here?”
Arlie cocked her hip to the side, the sass with her was off the charts, Chris never failing to let you know it comes from you
“I doing the lifties thing with daddy, an’ he not strong ‘nough to hold my colour sticks”
Colour sticks, what she called her dumbbells, despite you attempting to teach her the word, it would forever be known as colour sticks to you and your husband
“Oh, I see, so are you gonna help him bug?”
“Mhm, I got one ‘dition first mommy”
You chuckled sitting down with the two of them on the floor, watching her as she began waving her arms around 
“What’s that baby?”
“Well, I wanna watch cartoon and have two cookies!”
Chris pretended to think about it for a few moments, closing his eyes before letting out a dramatic sigh and holding his hand out to Arlie
“Okay Arlie girl, you got yourself a deal.”
“Deal daddy!”
She wrapped her much smaller hands around his larger one and shook with all her toddler strength before grabbing the dumbbells off his chest. Chris immediately took her in his arms and sat up covering her face in kisses while the room filled with the sounds of her laughter and now yours mixed in together. Moments like these making you take a mental snapshot watching the two people you loved most experiencing life together
“Alright my little gym crazies, how about we go upstairs for some snacks?”
After a collective cheer of yesses, the three of you made your way upstairs where Arlie got comfy in her chair at the island, and you and Chris stood in front of her, smiles on both of your faces as she munched away on some apples and peanut butter, her current favourite obsession
“Hey daddy?”
Chris finished chewing one a slice of the apple you’d also given him before answering her 
“Yeah baby?”
“Don’t ‘fink I forgot about our deal.”
Your hand quickly covered your mouth as you began laughing, Chris losing it beside you as well
“O-Okay dove I won’t...”
Chris could barely get that sentence out without laughing and the two of you managed to calm down after a couple minutes, Arlie looking between her mom and dad with a stone-faced expression, clearly not finding any of this funny
“Arlie baby you are going to be a force to be reckoned with when you get older”
“Just like you mommy!”
You laughed shaking your head at her before Chris chimed in beside you quickly to agree with his little girl
“Yep, just like mommy”
Chris leaned over to press a kiss to your cheek before wrapping an arm around you and bringing you to him. That moment in the kitchen becoming another mental snapshot you’d hope to keep with you forever, your sassy Arlie girl never failing to make each day as interesting as the last.
788 notes · View notes