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ghastlybirdie · 4 months

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[intro]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x pregnant!reader

Summary: You decompress after a stressful day at work wc: 1.8k cw: afab!reader, pregnancy, mentions of throwing up

There was a devil personally weaving every string of misfortune that tumbled your way, each wave of inconvenience sending you into a spiral that left you keeling in the aftermath

This was the third time of you going to the bathroom within the last two hours that you've been at work, the loo becoming your lounge chair and support for every time you've come in here to either gag, vomit, or pee

You know that, logically, it was the early stages of pregnancy seeing as it's been nearly eight weeks now

But rational has left you long ago when someone peeling an egg at their desk left you retching into your mug within moments

This wasn't the only problem you faced, seeing as a patron of hell seemed to be curating your sit-com show of a life: your fiancé- ex fiancé, in fact

He still worked in the building, still spoke to the same people as you did, still smiled as if nothing was wrong

Maybe in his reality, the one you couldn't see between his ears, he was also spiraling and suffering like you were. Maybe he too was throwing up into a suspiciously smelly toilet or having to evade the awkward pathetic call to say that the restroom is occupied

With the way you were shamefully walking back to your cubicle, laughter surrounding the idle chatter you could hear him having nearby, you were doubtful he shared the experience

So you could do the only thing you knew how to do in moments like these:

"Vanilla sundae with chips, please?"

It could of been a king's feast, a Michelin star meal, the Last Supper, with the way that the ice cream soothed your stomach

The saltiness and the sweet were a constant craving even prior to the pregnancy, the only welcoming symptom that you were looking forward to indulging into more

You were barreling straight to Nirvana, a life fulfilled completely by a cheap sundae and overly salted chips when a graveled voice called your attention

"You best find yourself a room for that ice cream ya have there. You're practically pornographic with that thing."

Simon stood at your booth with a mug in hand and an ever-so-slight slant in his eyes, as if he was smiling down at you through his mask. He looked more decent, much more equipped for the waking world this time around

You rolled your ice cream coated tongue through your lips, seeing as you were mid bite, licking the salt and cream from around your mouth, the heat from your embarrassment threatening to melt and dripped the ice cream stuck to your chin

"Sorry... I was enjoying myself." You let a smile break through your meek waver in your voice, dapping yourself clean with a napkin

"I could tell, with the way you were moanin'. Thought I walked into the wrong place for a second there." The playfulness in his tone only dug the knife deeper that you truly were just moaning in your solitude, completely lost to the fact that you were in a public place and quite literally anyone able to hearing you; like Simon.

How awful

"Good god, was I really that loud?"

"I'm just pulling your leg, love." He gestured to the seat opposing you. "May I?" You couldn't say no, letting him sit himself and chuckling at the groan he let out, earning a side-eye from him.

"Who's moaning now?" You smiled, pleased with your quip and signing it with a heavy spoonful of ice cream

"Are we comparing? 'Cause I bet you a try of your chips that that poor old lady over there is clutching her pearls, the poor thing." He adjusted himself in the booth seat still too small for him to gesture to a little old lady eating a pie, dressed in her Sunday best despite it being the middle of the week.

You rolled your eyes at him, guarding a hand around your fries and glaring at the blonde man, spoon held in your mouth

With the gesture Simon’s eyes visibly softened, a sense of a smile returning. “It’s good to see you back here. Missed seeing you for a while, there.”

You paused for a moment, pursing your lips to contemplate before continuing. “Yeah, well… I needed a bit of a breather there, considering-” You gestured all around you, making a face no doubt. “But it’s good to be back; missed this sad little place.”

Simon let the words sit in the air, sipping on his tea before blurting out: “Have you spoken to the arsehole yet?”

You snorted up a piece of your fries, coughing it out quick enough to catch Simon primed to reach towards you but stopping in time to chuckle at your sudden outburst. “Now that’s… Forward. But no… And yes? We’ve agreed to move out of our flat, seeing as there’s not much for us to really salvage. Not much else, though.”

The words hung off your lips like they were weighing them down, the winds falling from the sails you’ve been coasting on since sitting down with your sundae. Simon seemed to notice, drumming his fingers on his mug before picking up the pieces of the somber conversation.

“Have you found a place yet?” He asked curiously, pressing only slightly.

“Hm? Oh, for a flat?” You blew out an exhale through your lips, pursing them while you scrunched your nose. “No. Trying to look for a decent one makes my head hurt.”

Simon cocked his head in an agreeing hum, mug rising to his lips and mask tucked under his chin. His lips were chapped, annoyingly so, making his sharp features seem less tailored for his lack of grooming habits. He smacked his lips together and sucked his tongue with a snapping click, eyes focused somewhere not based in reality as you watched him with your own far off stare.

He is handsome, you can tell by his jawline and sharp nose, but his hair is tussled into a flurry of cowlicks and curls jutting out awkwardly, like he tried to style it with some pomade but gave up when an odd straight piece wouldn’t sit down. You can imagine the grumbling he’d had when he tried for far too long. His clothes weren’t filled with holes or bleach stains like the last time you’ve encountered him, but they were wrinkled and somehow too short at the sleeves to cover his wrists fully; an awkward length for his broad and tall build. A shadow of a beard poked through, a slight ginger shade blending through the near translucent blonde stubble. He was so handsome, but by everything good and green, he was nearly unkempt. Like he just arrived off of a longtime voyage somewhere far.

“What do you think?”

You blinked once, then twice, when Simon faced you, seemingly looking to you for an answer.

“What?” You asked with full confusion, a voice in the back of your brain screaming at you that you’ve stared at him too long.

Simon sighed, leaning sideways to better get into your eye view as he repeated himself more punctually.

“There’s a vacancy in the building complex I live in. The rent is decent, and the building manager isn’t a piece of total shit. Not too half bad.”

The two of you didn’t say a single word for some time, your mind restarting and booting up again, a soft little ‘Oh?’ leaving you but not much else before he continued.

“It’s not too far from here either, ten minute bus ride probably. Don’t know where you work but the bus stations are close by, too.” He trailed off as he kept talking, his sales pitch losing its fire. He sounds almost embarrassed, eyes looking down to his cup.

You stayed silent as a snail as you visibly thought through his words, the cogs practically turning under your forehead as you processed everything. It was such a friendly gesture, an olive branch of kindness that this near stranger of a man offered to you. It wasn’t the only kindness you’ve received recently, but the offer made you tear up none the less.

The stress of the last few weeks had been bubbling somewhere in your belly, and most times it came back up in your breakfast, lunch, and dinner sometimes. So to hear something that could solve at least one of the hundreds of problems plaguing your mind right now overwhelmed you.

“Bloody hell, woman, I didn’t even take one of your chips yet.” He huffed, a playful lit in his tone, a hand plucking a napkin and offering it gently to you.

You wiped your eyes and sniffed away your snot, taking the numerous napkins Simon offered to you until your tears stopped and your nose and eyes were raw.

Your ice cream sundae went muddy and melted and your fries turned wilted as you and Simon spoke, apologies and smiling passed between the two of you as an hour quickly rushed by. Simon exchanged the number and address to the building’s leasing office written on the back of a crumbled punch card in hand as the two of you left the restaurant, the sun shining down reflecting the smile that you gave him as you turn the opposite way as him.

“You’re a life saver, Simon.” You offered the compliment but Simon laughed lowly and shook his head. “I’m very serious! That motel is getting too cramp and it smells awful.”

Simon had his face covered again but his eyes showed the smile hidden away from you, an ache in your heart lasting for just a moment when you missed seeing it despite basking in it in the last hour or so. It was beautiful, you think.

“Just get on the phone with the lady. She’ll treat you right.” Was his last words before his farewell, when your bus hissed ahead of you, waiting for you to enter.

You held the punch card close to yourself, looking at the photos of the building online and fantasizing about being so close to normalcy again. Being so close to good people like Simon. Being close to Simon.

You thought about how weird and misplaced that thought was, how odd it was. Close to Simon? For what? Perhaps to fix a leaky pipe or missing couch leg, but something like that shouldn’t make your stomach flip and turn daydreaming about this new move. It shouldn’t, right?

It didn’t. It was nausea, actually, as evident by the flips and turns turning to bile in your throat and landing at your feet. That explains the butterflies. Turns out it was just your sundae coming back up again. Good. The last thing you need is school-girl crush being a distraction in your life.

#sunny writes #simon ghost riley #cod simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #cw pregnancy #afab reader #i remembered the read more #be proud of me

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cristigorillaz · 2 years

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So, I got this comment in one of my posts and decided it’s about time I shared some lore for my AU...

Chip was created by Karen in December 2008, for two reasons:

Because her "biological" clock was ticking. When Sheldon created her robotic body, he got a bit too far with how close it would be to a real woman’s body and part of her code controls her need to have children (which is illogical for a robot, but somehow worked).

As her own plan for getting the krabby patty secret formula. The plan is to create the ideal teenage boy for Pearl, who is in love with her (because he was programmed to have tall blonde girls as his type) and will always treat her best. The goal is for them to get married in the future and own the Krusty Krab together, which will also make Sheldon and Eugene put their differences aside and become friends again. In her CPU, this is the best and fair solution. Everybody wins.

Sheldon has no idea of his wife’s plan and scolds Chip for his choice of a girlfriend, because he knows Eugene will think it’s one of his plans (which for once, is not) and will get him in trouble. Chip continues to date Pearl though and who knows, maybe Karen’s plan actually works in the end...

To read more about Chip, check this link: Character profile 2: Chip

#spongebob squarepants #spongebob human au #chip plankton #chip x pearl #karen plankton #plankton #Sheldon J Plankton #sheldon plankton

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flowersandbigteeth · 5 months

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Meeting your Changeling Boyfriend

A/N: This is a mostly complete, somewhat somber yandere story with some complicated emotions, flawed characters, and NSFW parts. I'll post the parts over a couple of days to not spam

Changeling (Clark) x Flower nymph f Reader

General Plot: You wake up in a strange place and meet a friendly changeling who is happy to help you adjust to your new home

TW: future nsfw, domestic violence, isekai, yandere, jealousy, fairy prejudices

Word Count: 6k

Next part will be posted soon.

You woke with a start, your eyes flying around the room you were in. This wasn’t your bedroom. Bolting upright, you took in the space you were in frantically. The walls were roughly hewn boards sealed with grout. You were lying on a lumpy feather mattress under a thread-worn quilt. A small woodstove in the corner warmed the room with a few dying coals.

“Where? What?” you murmured, confused.

Looking down, you realized you wore a long blue dress with a bow collar. It was simple but fit you well and was a pretty contrast to your skin.

This was not your home. These were not your clothes. The last thing you remembered you’d gone to bed in your pajamas. You pinched your wrist, wondering if this was a dream, but no matter how hard you pinched, you didn’t wake up.

Something smelled of jasmine, and you patted your hair, finding it wasn’t braided as you usually did before bed. It was also much longer than it had been, and vines of jasmine were worked through it. The length fell to just above your bottom in luxurious, thick piles. Trying to pluck one of the pieces of jasmine out, you winced as it stung, a drop of blood forming on the cut tip. The jasmine was growing out of your head!

You hurried to your feet, hoping to find a mirror. There was a small bathroom with a metal tub, washbowl, and chipped mirror. Blinking at yourself, you found that you were still you. You had the same features as you’d gone to bed with, the same skin, only now you had jasmine winding through your hair. Pretty silver hair cuffs decorated with little pearls and shells shined in the candlelight. Glancing at the tub, you found a few colorful bottles of oils, pots of cream, and a cake of soap that smelled like shea butter.

You jumped at a large banging from nearby and hurried out of the bathroom. Making your way through the small one-story cottage, you opened the heavy wood door. A man was standing in front of you. He was quite tall, with dark, blue-black hair that was braided down his back and smokey gray eyes. Two pointed ears peeked out from the loose strands of his hair.

“Good morning (Y/N)!” he said with a smile.

“Do I know you?” you asked, utterly confused.

You peeked past him at the forest surrounding the house. A field of beautiful flowers and juicy vegetables was enjoying the sunshine, butting up to a thick woodland. The man’s brow drew, and he looked at you more closely.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“I don’t know you…or…this,” you stammered, waving your hand at the field of flowers. “Where am I?”

The man’s eyebrows jumped, and he looked around nervously before pushing past you into the house.

“Are you playing a joke, (Y/N)?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“I went to bed somewhere else and woke up here,” you explained. “I have no idea who you are.”

He frowned.

“Oh my,” he hummed. “Have you met anyone other than me?”

You shook your head.

“I only woke up a few moments ago,” you said.

“And all of this is new to you,” he finished your sentence, and you nodded.

He moved around the small house as if looking for someone, finally coming back to you.

“I think someone has bewitched you,” he finally concluded.

You shook your head, confused. Bewitched? What the hell did that mean?

“Bewitched? Magic isn’t real,” you scoffed. “Who are you anyway?”

His head jerked back.

“You…don’t know magic?” he asked.

You shook your head, and his nicely curved lips formed a thin line.

“You came from somewhere else than Merida?” he asked, and you nodded.

“I’m from (Y/C),” you said.

“(Y/C)?” he grunted, rubbing his chin again.

“Who…are you?” you asked again.

“Sorry, I’m Clark. You and I have been…friends for many years,” he said.

“How did I get here?” you asked. “Where is here?”

He sat down heavily at the small table in the kitchen area. You could see the gears turning in his head as he worked through some inner puzzle.

"You are in the province of Merida," he explained. "This little village is Alliet."

Your mind was spinning, and you felt dizzy.

Clark suddenly stood and helped you to a chair before pumping a cup of water out of a hand pump tap.

"Here," he said. "Have a drink before you pass out. This must be quite a shock."

Trembling, you lifted the cup to your lips and took a small sip. The water tasted fresh and sweet.

"Wh-who am I?" you gasped. "My hair is…different…"

He gave you a half smile.

"I suppose the answer to that question is not so much who but what," he said, rubbing his chin. "Does your world have flower nymphs?"

Your eyes widened.

"In fairy tales, not in real life," you said.

"Well, here, flower nymphs are an essential part of the economy," he said, pointing out the window to the lush garden. "You cultivate all of those flowers and sell essences and stems in the village."

"I don't know anything about flowers," you said.

"Yes…" he hummed. "Though your magic is still intact, I'm sure. You haven't lost your blooms."

He nodded to the vines of jasmine falling over your shoulders.

"How…how do I get back?" You asked, clutching the clay cup in your hand. "I can't stay here."

A flash of recognition flared in his eyes, but he looked away.

"I'm afraid you can't," he said. "A soul-swapping spell can only be done once. If people could come and go at will…it could be chaos. Whoever did the spell did it at great expense to themselves. Usually, they require a sacrifice."

You gasped.

"Who would have done something like that?" you asked.

He blinked at you and then shrugged.

"The other (Y/N) is the most likely culprit," he said. "Perhaps she had something she wished to escape."

"But what?" you asked. "You said you were friends. You must know-"

He held up his hand.

"I cannot guess why she would have done that. Perhaps she simply wanted to experience something new. But that's not the issue at hand…the key issue here is that you need to be introduced to this world," he said, sliding a chair next to you and sitting down. "I'm happy to help."

You chewed your bottom lip, completely at a loss. If Clark was willing to help you, you were sure you should let him. He said he was the old (Y/N)'s friend.

"Aren't you sad?" you asked. "You lost your friend. She ran away!"

He sighed and gave you a sad smile.

"The old (Y/N) was always troubled. I'm sorry it is at your expense, but I'm glad she found where she wanted to be," he said. "I hope your world is all she dreamed it would be."

You blinked at him, wondering if you should tell him that Texas was not exactly a paradise. She would probably end up in a hospital if she ran around trying to do magic.

Deciding not to, you got straight to business. "I guess if I'm trapped here, I should learn how things work," you sighed. "I don't expect you to help me for free. You don't know me. I'm sure I can find something to trade."

His hand raised, and his thumb brushed your cheek.

"I don't mind helping you," he said. "The village is rather boring, and I'd like to honor my friend."

"I'll find something for you," you assured him, but he only gave you a bemused smile.

"First things first, we ought to reintroduce you to the village," he said. "This is a small town. People will notice you are not the same. It's best to be direct. We’ll start at the doctor and make sure the soul transfer didn't harm you in any way."

He stood, but you winced a bit.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "In pain?"

"No," you sighed. "Just nervous."

He gave you a wide smile, revealing pointed teeth.

"Do not be worried," he said. "I'll help you along."

He held out a hand to you, and you took it. His fingers were long and strong with black nails.

"Um…can I ask you something?" you asked as the two of you walked down a dirt path leading away from the house you woke up in.

"You can ask me anything," he said.

"I don't mean to be rude, but what are you?" you asked.

He chuckled.

"Of course, you would wonder," he said. "I’m a changeling.”

You blinked at him.

“Oh…I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means,” you said.

He smirked.

“I’m a type of fae,” he said, and before your eyes, his body morphed into something that looked like an orc, then a wolfman, then back to himself. “I change shape.”

You gasped, blinking in disbelief.

“Was that real?” you asked, forgetting yourself entirely and pinching his cheek.

It felt like normal warm flesh. He gave you a playful smile, pinching your cheek back.

“Yes, that’s all me,” he said. “I’m also a mage.”

He held his palm up to the sky, and black fire burst from it. You jumped, squealing, and he quickly put it out.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. This must all be very strange and new, hm?”

You nodded and gave him a wan smile.

“You’ll get used to it,” he said.

You looked down at your hands.

“Can I make black fire?” you asked, and he chuckled.

“No, no, you are a simple nature spirit,” he explained. “Not to diminish your value. You are extremely valuable; every town wants flower, tree, and water nymphs, but your magic is limited to growing plants and blooming flowers. Most villages take your protection to heart as nature spirits aren’t common and are very delicate.”

“Oh,” you said, not sure how to process that information. “I don’t feel particularly magical.”

“It will come to you,” he assured you, taking your hand.

The sound of people laughing and the creaking of carriages drifted through the trees, and soon you were walking through what looked like a quaint medieval village. Your heart pounded as Clark led you through the hustle and bustle, and you squeezed his fingers. He glanced down at your joined hands, his lips parting before he returned his gaze to the road.

“Morning (Y/N)!” a man with horns curving over his ears and hooves for feet shouted.

You gave him a wary wave, not wanting to be rude. Clark winked at you.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Once we visit the doctor, word will spread quickly.”

As you walked through the village, magical beings you’d only seen in storybooks went about their day. Fairies with gossamer wings fluttered about, and you even saw a centaur unloading crates off a cart. Clark stopped in front of a little shop with a heart on the sign.

“Here we are,” he said, nudging you inside with a hand on your waist.

You noted that the office was very messy, with books and scrolls filling the tables and shelves.

“Doctor Meriel!” Clark called deeper into the building.

“Be right there!” a female voice shouted, and a few moments later, a tall, lithe woman with pointy ears and pink skin appeared.

Her white hair was pulled into a tight bun on top of her head. If you had to guess, based on your knowledge of fantasy books, you’d guess she was an elf.

“Oh, hello (Y/N),” she said, then glanced at Clark.

Her eyes drifted down to your hands entwined, and she frowned slightly.

“Clark... Is everything okay?”

“I think we should speak in an examination room,” he said, and she nodded, waving him back.

This room was spotless compared to the front office. Clark nodded for you to sit on the examination table, and he turned his attention to the doctor.

“(Y/N) has gone through a soul swap,” he explained. “This (Y/N) comes from…”

He looked at you.

“(Y/Country),” you filled in.

Dr. Meriel’s mouth fell open, and she hurried over to you, her lips forming a deep grimace.

“Oh dear,” she hummed, looking you over. “That can be jarring on the body. Who would have done such a thing?”

She pulled a wand out of her coat, and the tip glowed.

“Follow the light,” she said, holding it in front of your eyes.

You followed her directions as she examined your vision, ears, and throat.

“My guess is our (Y/N),” he said, and she turned to look at him, an eyebrow raising.

“You don’t suppose it was because of Harri?” she asked.

Clark shrugged.

“Who is Harri?” you asked.

Dr. Meriel gave you a worried look.

“Um…he used to be a member of our village. He left for the capital to join the King’s guard,” she explained. “Goddess bless us. I certainly hope he stays there.”

“Why?” you asked, and her mouth opened and closed.

She and Clark exchanged a glance.

“Harri…isn’t a nice fellow,” Clark explained. “But you don’t need to be worried about him. He’s gone.”

“Oh,” you said, wondering why they all seemed so concerned. “I’m sorry.”

They both looked at you, miffed.

“Why are you sorry?” Clark asked.

You wrinkled your dress under your fingers, your eyes getting a little misty.

“I feel like the other (Y/N) was well-loved,” you said. “I feel like I stole her from you.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Dr. Meriel said, giving you a comforting squeeze. “Don’t think that, dear. Of course, I’m sad that she is gone, but it’s not your fault. In fact, I’m a little angry with her. She forced you into a soul swap against your will. It…doesn’t seem like something she would do…but perhaps she felt desperate. It was not fair to drop you into this world so abruptly. Many people don’t handle that shift well. People go mad, convinced their world isn’t real. It can…get messy. What she did was quite cruel.”

“Am I going to go crazy?” you asked, and she gave you a sympathetic smile.

“I think if you’ve gotten this far and not melted down, you should be okay,” she said. “Most people lose it the moment they are presented with an entirely new world. However, if you begin feeling…off…please return. There are therapies we can try to help.”

“Is she okay…physically?” Clark asked.

Dr. Meriel sighed.

“Yes, she appears to be perfectly fine,” she said. “I’ll inform the mayor that we will be welcoming a new (Y/N) into our town. It’s best you take things slow. Don’t try to do too much all at once. The last thing she needs is more stress. Perhaps save the introductions until the village has been informed of her…condition.”

Clark nodded and helped you off of the examination table.

“You can come back to my house, and we can have lunch,” he said.

“Thank you, doctor,” you said to the elf before Clark shuffled you outside.

“(Y/N)!” a cheerful orcess squealed the minute your feet touched the cobblestone of the main avenue.

She picked you up and spun you around in her arms.

“I was just at your house!” she said, glancing behind you at the clinic. “Is something wrong? Are you hurt?”

You looked up at the tall female, her thick dark hair falling over her shoulder and her head shaved close on one side.

“I-I’m sorry…I don’t-” you mumbled, not sure what to say.

You had no idea who this person was, but they obviously knew the old (Y/N) very well.

“Neia!” Clark said. “This…this isn’t (Y/N). Well, the (Y/N) you knew.”

Neia’s brow furrowed, and her face took on a thunderous look.

“What the hell does that mean?” she barked, her large fists on her hips. “(Y/N) and I have been friends since we were kids. You know that. I think I know what my best friend looks like.”

Clark put a hand on her arm.

“Dr. Meriel was going to announce it to the town all at once, but the old (Y/N) performed a soul swap,” he said. “I’m sorry Neia, the (Y/N) you knew is gone.”

Neia’s mouth fell open, and her eyes grew shiny.

“That’s not true! You’re joking,” she turned to you, and you trembled under her gaze. “You know me! Tell me you know me!”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, looking at your feet. “I’ve never met you before. I don’t really understand where I am.”

Neia’s face fell.

“But…I’m your best friend,” she said, her voice scratchy with tears. “You wouldn’t…she wouldn’t do that without telling me!”

“I’m sorry Neia,” Clark said gently. “That’s the way it is.”

Her eyes narrowed on him, frowning.

“(Y/N) would never do that,” she said, crossing her arms. “It couldn’t be. Someone else did this to her!”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I’d go back if I knew how, I promise.”

She blinked at you, her face softening slightly.

“I-I’m sorry…I- this is probably terrifying for you…” she hummed, brushing a large hand over your head. “I just…I can’t believe-”

Again, her gold eyes focused on Clark, full of mistrust.

“I don’t believe (Y/N) would do that herself, Clark. I don’t buy it for a second,” she snapped. “Goddess, bless whoever the culprit is when I find them!”

“We all just have to get used to it,” he said, shortly. “I miss (Y/N) too, but think of her feelings. This is all new to her. Please treat her kindly.”

Neia huffed.

“Of course I’m going to treat her kindly,” she hissed, then looked down at you, lifting your drooping chin with a finger. “You ought to come home with me.”

She glared at Clark, then glanced at you, holding out a hand.

“You shouldn’t be left alone with him,” she said. “My family knew the old (Y/N) well and can care for you. This one can’t be trusted!”

You blinked at her, not sure what to say. You knew nothing about the social life of the old (Y/N). Would she have mistrusted Clark as well? You had no way of knowing except that the doctor hadn’t seemed concerned that you were together.

“I don’t want to be rude,” you muttered, “but I don’t know you.”

Her head snapped back as if you’d slapped her.

“How long have you known him?” she asked. “A few hours at most?”

“I-um…” you mumbled, unsure what to say.

“You’ll get plenty of time with her,” Clark hissed. “She’s only just arrived, and you’re confusing her! The doctor said to keep introductions minimal until she’s informed the town. You’re not questioning Dr. Meriel, are you? She left her in my charge.”

Neia frowned but pointed a finger at Clark.

“You’re lucky Dr. Meriel is a kind soul, or I would carry her back with me on my shoulder,” she snapped. “If I catch you mistreating her, I won’t hesitate to end you. Doctor’s orders or not.”

“Um…thank you for your concern,” you murmured, trying to diffuse the situation. “And…I’m sorry for your loss.”

Neia gave you a sad smile.

“Still a kind nymph, even from another universe,” she murmured.

She shouldered past Clark, sure to knock him over with her bulk. He looked after her, annoyed, as he brushed himself off, getting to his feet.

“Damn orcess,” he muttered under his breath.

“She doesn’t seem to like you much,” you pointed out.

He sighed and drew up a smile for you.

“Changelings aren’t well-liked,” he said. “It’s a stereotype that we’re all spies and thieves. Neia always hated me. We’ve all grown up together…but her parents told her I was bad when her dad found me in the woods the same day she lost her younger sister during birth and…well, the legend is changelings steal babies. It’s all nonsense.”

“I guess racism exists everywhere,” you sighed, feeling sad. “It must have been so hard to grow up as an orphan.”

He gave you a long, gentle look.

“Yes…it was difficult,” he agreed. “But that’s enough sad stories. I owe you lunch.”

He pulled you by your hand through back allies, avoiding any more villagers, until you reached a small castle, much grander than any of the other buildings. It was built with bright blue stone, and people wandered around the courtyard doing chores dressed in navy uniforms.

“This is where you live?” you asked, and he smiled as he pulled you through the front door.

“Built it myself,” he said. “Being a mage is a rather prolific occupation.”

“It’s beautiful,” you commented.

He led you into the foyer, which was decorated with lovely, carved wood furniture and large tapestries depicting mythical beasts. You stopped at one, brushing your fingers over the gold threads.

“This is all like it’s out of a dream,” you murmured.

You felt the heat of Clark’s chest behind you and his arms wrapped around you.

“I wish I could make it easier for you,” he said quietly, kissing the top of your head.

You sucked in a breath, and the scent of incense filled your lungs.

“You smell nice,” you murmured, and he gave you a squeeze before pulling you by your hand to what must have been the dining room.

“What sort of things do you eat at home?” he asked, and you thought for a moment.

“Most everything,” you said. “Meat and vegetables, rice, bread…the normal stuff, I guess.”

He nodded and grinned.

“Got it,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen.

A few moments later, the scent of roasted meat drifted to you, and a short man emerged with two plates full of what looked like a roasted bird and some toasted roots.

“That was so fast,” you commented. “But it looks delicious.”

“Magic,” he said as he took his seat nearby.

The man bowed to him silently and disappeared. You looked down at the food, unsure where to start.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, frowning.

You shook your head and blushed.

“Is…is it okay to eat food with magic in it?” you asked, and he blinked at you before bursting into laughter.

“There’s no magic in it,” he chuckled. “I just used magic to make it cook faster. It’s very safe. I’d never feed you something that would harm you, (Y/N).”

You nodded, feeling rude.

“Of course, you wouldn’t,” you said, taking a bite of the chicken.

It was delicious, seasoned with rosemary.

“Thank you so much for all your kindness,” you hummed, feeling happier the fuller your belly got.

He gazed at you with a smile on his face.

“I’ve waited so long to spoil you,” he murmured, and you blinked at him.

“You have?” you asked, and he straightened, appearing as if he hadn’t meant to say that.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, then changed the subject. “I’ve been wanting to visit the capital to do some business. Perhaps you’d like to join me and see more of the countryside?”

You had nowhere else to be and were curious to learn more about this land, especially what a city looked like. This little town was very different than what you were used to. You also felt very anxious about meeting more of the town, based on how Neia had reacted to you. The people already knew and loved the old (Y/N); you were simply an imposter.

When lunch was finished, he showed you the many rooms of his mansion, seeming especially proud of his laboratory.

“This is amazing,” you gasped, looking at the glowing liquids in glass vials.

He had a real-life cauldron, bubbling away with something smelly inside. The notes he had posted to the wall were written in some strange language. You paused on a small painting sitting on the desk. It was of you.

“What’s this?” you asked, pointing to the picture, and he blushed.

“Oh…just a painting I had made long ago,” he hummed. “When I was an orphan, you were my only friend. Nymphs survive rather independently in the old wood. It’s a different place than the forests near our homes. We met when I was hiding from Neia and Harri, and I brought you into town. Convincing the younger you to stay was my path to acceptance in this village. Otherwise, I would have forever been an outsider.”

“Why did you have to convince me?” you asked, and he sighed.

“Um…it’s a little complicated. As I said, nymphs can survive easily in the old wood. The animals see you as a flower or a tree and are quite fond of you. That’s where most nymphs stay,” he explained. “They don’t like fussing around with our affairs. Convincing one to move into town and using their magic to support the economy is…challenging.

You do more for us than we could ever do for you, and you have much more to lose by our hands. The earth, the water, and the forest are filled with wild magic and difficult to tame. Those who venture into the old wood, rarely return. Though I can heat food and conjur fire, I can’t make a meadow bloom or trees bear fruit. No spell I can perform will bring a fruitful harvest or cleanse a poisoned well. Only you can do that sort of magic. Nymphs bring food, plentiful game, and clean, fresh water. Some would capture you and try to force you to do their bidding.”

“Oh,” you said, chewing your lip nervously.

“Why did I stay?” you asked, and he smiled wistfully.

“I’d like to think it was for me,” he said softly, “but I probably will never know the reason. Many things happened since you moved in. It would be hard to explain in a sitting, but that’s enough talk of a past you will never truly understand. We must think of the future now.”

He hustled you out of his laboratory and out of a rear door, heading down a small path.

“Where are we headed now?” you asked.

“To your home,” he said. “You ought to pack. I was thinking we could leave tomorrow.”

“What about the villagers?” you asked.

He shrugged, looking away.

“They don’t deserve you,” he muttered, looking bashful again as if he hadn’t meant to say that. “It will be fine,” he finally decided. “This is about you. Not them. They’ve had years with the old (Y/N). You must choose on your own if you would like to stay. Don’t feel pressured because they want you to be her. You are your own person with your own needs. You may like the capital or wish to return to the wood.”

He stopped at your front door.

“I need to go home and make some preparations,” he said. “Pack whatever you like; there is plenty of room for your belongings. We’ll be gone a month at least.”

You nodded and smiled at Clark.

“Thank you for your guidance,” you said. “I know Neia had bad things to say about you, but I appreciate your patience with me.”

He gave you a somewhat sad smile and then folded his body down to peck you on the cheek.

“Pack and then have a good rest,” he said before turning to head back towards his mansion. “I’ll come get you in the morning.”

You spent the evening sorting through the old (Y/N)’s belongings. They were simple enough, clothes, potions for your skin and hair, combs, and other utilitarian items. You hoped you’d find a journal or some other diary to learn more about her, but there was nothing like that.

By the time the sun set, you’d filled a bag with the clothes you’d found in a chest and whatever pots and bottles seemed useful.

You were just about to lay down for bed when you heard the front door open. Heavy footsteps moved through the front room, and scared, you hid in the small closet.

“(Y/N)?” you heard a heavy voice ask. It was not Clark’s, but deeper and more raspy.

Whoever it was moved through the house slowly before a dark figure blocked the light from your bedroom. A large hand jerked you out of the closet, pulling you into the light.

“Why are you hiding from your own fiance?” the stranger demanded in a sharp bark that made you tremble.

He was much larger than Clark, with gold skin. Shaggy blonde hair fell to his whiskered jaw. Blue eyes bore down on you. Though he was unnaturally large and wide, he looked rather human.

“Who…who are you?” you gasped.

He smelled awful, like sweat and burnt tires.

Your question seemed to infuriate him.

“What game are you playing (Y/N)?” he shouted, tossing you to the floor. “Hurry up and start some dinner, you stupid wench. I’m starving!”

“Don’t throw me around, asshole!” you huffed at the man, pulling yourself to your feet. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but no one calls me out my name! Get the fuck out of my house!”

The man loomed over you, looking furious. His gold skin turned red with rage. He jerked you up in his grasp, tossing you easily into the kitchen. Your shoulder hit the stove, making you shout as pain shot up your arm.

“Don’t talk back to me, woman!” he snarled, stomping towards you. “I see you haven’t been properly disciplined since I left!”

A heavy hand came down on your cheek, making you see stars.

“Keep arguing, and you’ll get worse!” he snarled, marching out of the room.

You had no idea who this man was and didn’t appreciate getting tossed around and beaten. The moment he turned his back, you fled, wiggling out of the kitchen window. It was hard to find in the dark, but you managed to locate the path that Clark had walked you down from his house, sprinting down it.

When you reached the blue stone building, you banged on the front door, frantically looking over your shoulder to ensure you hadn’t been followed.

“Miss?” the short man from before asked, dressed in his pajamas when he opened the door.

“Please, I need help!” you gasped, your cheek and shoulder still aching. “Some man showed up at my house and started tossing me around!”

His eyes narrowed, and he glanced over your shoulder, hustling you inside. When you were past the threshold, he was certain to drop the large piece of wood that barred the door.

“Come with me, Miss,” he said. “I’ll wake the master.”

He set you on a plush couch in the living room and brought you a glass of something that smelled alcoholic.

“Some brandy to help with the pain,” he said, his eyes dropping on your swollen cheek, then scurried away into the dark house.

A few minutes later, Clark came rushing in, picking you up and examining you from head to foot.

“Harri came home, didn’t he?” he snarled, looking just as furious as the strange man. “Bastard must have failed his entrance exam.”

“I don’t know who he was!” you gasped, tears leaking down your cheeks. “He said he was my fiance then slapped me. I climbed out of the kitchen window.”

“Shhh, shh,” he said, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you toward his laboratory. “I’ve got something to help. I won't let him get to you.”

He set you down on a chair while he gingerly examined your cheek with his fingers.

“Who was he?” you asked as he looked through his potions for the right one.

Clark took a few minutes before he answered.

“Harri is the mayor’s son,” he said through gritted teeth. “He got it in his head you were meant for him and moved in. The old (Y/N) was incredibly kind. Instead of abandoning the town and escaping to the forest, she accepted him into her home, thinking if she gave him what he wanted, he’d be…kinder…I suppose. They had some sort of…silly moment when they were children that made her heart soft to him. She thought he was a misunderstood malcontent, not the abusive man he is.”

“Then why wasn’t he here when I woke up?” you asked.

His cool fingers spread a spicy-smelling gel on your cheek.

“He decided he was good enough for the King’s guard, and he went to take the examination,” he said. “My guess is he failed and came home in a bad mood.”

“No one stopped him from abusing the old (Y/N)?” you asked, and he looked solemn.

“He’s not the way he is with you with the rest of the town,” he grumbled. “They see a charismatic, charming man. He hides his temper well, and (Y/N) covered for him. He and Neia are very close. (Y/N) refused to let me…do anything about it. Only Doctor Meriel and I knew because she often treated the old (Y/N)’s bruises. She thought she loved him. She thought she could fix him. The whole town supported the match. They were going to be married when he was accepted into the guard.”

“Is that why she soul-swapped me?” you asked, and he gave you a long look as if he were thinking deeply about something. “To get away from him without upsetting the town?”

“Yes, that is likely,” he said but didn’t elaborate.

“Well, I don’t want to be married to him,” you said, tears filling your eyes again.

“Where else does it hurt?” he asked, looking down.

You rolled up your sleeve, and he also applied the soothing gel to your shoulder.

“I won’t let him have you,” he muttered, gazing into your eyes with his stormy irises.

You heard a banging and winced.

“Stay here,” he said sharply, and before your eyes dissolved into a puff of smoke.

You couldn’t just sit there waiting for something to happen, so you hurried back down to the first floor, peering out of one of the windows. Clark was standing in front of him, preventing him from entering

“Hand over my wife, changeling!” Harri barked at Clark.”I know you have her!”

You would have been frightened to stare down such a massive man, but he seemed unmoved.

“She’s not your wife,” he snapped back. “(Y/N) knows nothing of you. She doesn’t love you, and I’m sure she hates you after tonight.”

“Of course she loves me,” Harri hissed. “She’s always loved me! You’re just bitter she didn’t pick you! Bring her out before I break the door down!”

“She came here to hide from you,” he said. “She doesn’t want to go back. You ought to drop this before you get hurt.”

“Like you could hurt me!” Harri boomed, pulling a heavy sword from the sheath strapped to his back. “I’ve already called the town guard. It’s only a matter of time before we chase you out!”

Clark chuckled.

“You know she soul-swapped herself to get away from you,” he said, smug. “The (Y/N) you’ve abused tonight has no memory of the accident that tied you together. The old one left you for another world so she’d never have to see you again.”

At that, Harri looked hurt before his face returned to a stony grimace.

“You have a lot of nerve calling it an “accident.” Just another one of your lies! All you’ve ever done is lie! I’ve told my father we ought to chase you out, and now I have a reason. This town should have never accepted a filthy changeling to start with!”

Suddenly Clark morphed into a version of Harri, right down to his big sword.

"You have a lot of nerve calling it an 'accident'," He jeered, parroting the real Harri's words. "You're just sour your own pitiful attempt to chase me out blew up in your face! The accident was letting you live! You've lost, just accept it."

Harri charged him, sword raised, and before your eyes, Clark transformed into some creature you’ve never seen before. It looked like a ghost floating above the ground but was solid. Long gnarled fingers were tipped with massive claws, and his mouth was impossibly wide, filled with razor-sharp teeth. His red eyes glowed, seeming eager for the fight.

He easily knocked the sword Harri was clutching out of his hand, long claws slicing his skin like butter.

You gasped as blood sprayed into the dirt, and the hulk fell to the ground, still hanging on to enough of his pride to glare at his enemy.

“The town guard is coming!” he gasped, pressing his hand to his chest to slow the bleeding.

Clark disappeared into a cloud of smoke again and appeared beside you.

“I told you to stay put,” he growled, back to his more humanoid form.

“How could I?” you asked, and his face shifted from annoyance to soft concern.

“Ready the carriage!” he boomed, his voice echoing through the mansion. “Quickly!”

Servants appeared from seemingly nowhere, hurriedly packing bags and rallying the horses.

“We need to leave now,” he informed you, pulling you by your elbow out the door.

As you passed, you stared at Harri, who was panting in the dirt.

“(Y/N) please! Whatever he’s told you is a lie!” he shouted at you, his voice losing its volume at the end. “You belong to me! You love me! That changeling has bewitched you!”

His golden skin was going gray, and his chest heaved. You turned away from him, finding it hard to have sympathy for a man who’d thrown you into a stove the moment he returned home. Clark cradled your head as if to shield you in his arm as he led you to the carriage his staff was preparing.

“Is he going to die?” you whispered when he’d settled you on the lacquered black carriage bench.

He plopped down next to you, slapping the side, and you heard the driver click at the horses to drive them forward.

“Not likely, unfortunately,” he snarled. “The bastard is half ogre. They heal quickly. He’ll tell his father I tried to murder him, however. Which is why we need to leave.”

“How could the other (Y/N) decide to marry that guy?” you murmured, utterly confused. “He’s horrible.”

“I don’t understand it either,” Clark said quietly, stroking your head with his arm wrapped around you. “As I said, the old (Y/N) was troubled.”

He brightened a bit, smiling at you.

“But you have a whole new life ahead of you, darling,” he said. “There’s no reason for you to live in her past. I should have never let you stay in this village in the first place. You don’t belong here.”

You gave him a wan nod, leaning into his warm chest. There was so much happening around you that you didn’t understand, but Clark felt like an anchor in the storm.

“Will they come after us?” you asked, and he shrugged.

“I bespelled the carriage,” he said. “They cannot see us. You are safe.”

“But what about all your things?” you asked. “Your laboratory?”

He smiled at you.

“All of those things can be replaced,” he said. “Your life is far more important. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Where are we going?” you ventured, and he looked thoughtful.

“To the coast, then we’ll take a ship out of Merida,” he explained. “Across the sea, there’s a province named Ilirion where you will be safe. Enough questions; you need to rest.”

The last four words were said in an odd lilt, and you felt your eyes getting heavy. You notched your head in the crook of his neck, and his arm wrapped around you. You fell asleep, the spicy smell of incense filling your breath.

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dragonflavoredcake · 9 months

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Gem: X, we really need to do something about server lag. Last night at two am it lagged at the worst time, I could've fallen off a strider and chipped a tooth! Pearl: You think that's bad? Two nights ago it lagged while Impulse and I were reenacting the gangplank scene from Peter Pan! Xisuma: . . . What the hell goes on at night on this server?

#incorrect hermitcraft quotes #hermitcraft incorrect quotes #geminitay #xisuma #xisumavoid #reluctant admin x #pearlescentmoon #impulse #impulsesv #shiny duo #soup group #hermitcraft #hermitblr

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queen-rainy-love · 5 months

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Trying this again because this was posted too early and I might as well get it done before Thanksgiving Break.

Again, thanks to @nightmyst14-blog for this inspiration. Let's try this again.

Set in my AU verse.

To Oyster: Mother taught me everything I know about the family business.

From Oyster: My darling pearl. One day, this House will be yours.

To Captain Caviar: Thank you so much for taking care of my mother and I. Better than my jam father.

From Captain Caviar: Even if we ain't jam related, you are my daughter.

To Black Pearl: While I'm looking for your pearl, stop threatening father and innocent Cookies!

From Black Pearl: My little pearl, you are the princess of the Duskgloom Sea.

To Abyss Monarch: There's underwater cities!? What is it like?

From Abyss Monarch: I'm proud to call you as my step-granddaughter. I also apologize for Electric Eel.

To Peppermint: I love your stories. It's like I'm there.

From Peppermint: Thank you for giving me a new home. Let's talk with the sea again.

To Squid Ink: I think I found some shines you might like. Which one do you like the most?

From Squid Ink: Kind...like sister...

To Puffer: You're such a ball of energy that you could give the Pearl Soldiers a run for their money.

From Puffer: You have to teach me how to climb up to the chandelier!!

To Sorbet Shark: No more pirate ships! They're nothing but trouble!

From Sorbet Shark: Ooooo Ooooo!

To Clotted Cream: We made some promises as children that need to come true!

From Clotted Cream: My dear childhood friend. We have a list that we need to get through.

To Wildberry: You better take care of Clotted for me!

From Wildberry: I've heard stories about you from Clotted Cream. Are you sure you're not a paladin?

To Red Velvet: You had a rough start with Clotted but you really are like a Cake Hound. Sweet.

From Red Velvet: I've heard you're good with a blade. Let me know if you ever want to train.

To Pastry: It's nice to see you doing well.

From Pastry: You...look familiar...

To Financier: You know it's fun to let lose every now and then.

From Financier: How you haven't got thrown in jail is beyond me.

To Candy Diver: Thanks for helping father during the Duskgloom Sea. But why are you completely covered?

From Candy Diver: *happy sounds*

To Crunchy Chip: I don't think I've met a Cookie who made me feel like this before.

From Crunchy Chip: You're strong like Cream Wolf. My equal.

To Braised Abalone: We're not our grandfathers. We don't need to go down this path.

From Braised Abalone: You and your family are cowards for what you did to my family.

I hope you guys enjoyed this super early relationship chart post about Bubble Pearl.

#cookie run kingdom #crk oc: bubble pearl cookie #black pearl cookie #abyss monarch cookie #squid ink cookie #oyster cookie #captain caviar cookie #rookie cookie #sorbet shark cookie #peppermint cookie #wildberry cookie #clotted cream cookie #red velvet cookie #pastry cookie #candy diver cookie #financier cookie #crunchy chip cookie #crk oc: braised abalone #crunchy chip x bubble pearl

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bleubrri · 2 years

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⟡ ゚ ៹ ʟɪᴍᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ — ᴛᴏᴊɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

contains: soft toji , cunnilingus , slow sex , spit on that clit! , lil tummy bulge , creampie , cockwarming , livin in a shitty apartment with your lover<3

wc: tbd? idk it’s short so forgive the shitty pacing T^T

a/n: this is glaringly ooc okay i KNOW n idC jus let me have this🚶🏾

the 18:04 train passing through rattles the tracks behind your apartment so violently that the mismatched plates and glasses in your cabinets threaten to collide with the floor.

it’s that time of year where the sun sets so early you might as well have seen no sunlight whatsoever. the air is blue and crisp and cold—thrashing against the windows and peeling at the chipped paint along the sill. you’re hardly a stranger to it, in fact, you’ve grown familiar with bone-rattling shivers and endless blankets wrapped firmly up to your neck. gooseflesh across your skin is starting to become the default.

even he can tell that tonight is a bad one; toji runs startlingly hot, and yet the temperature still bites at him. so when the chattering of your teeth becomes so forceful that he thinks you’ll shatter your jaw, he slinks under the sea of blankets and latches onto your frigid skin. large, warm hands trail the expanse of your waist, your stomach. his breaths are practically condensing against your skin, wet trails of his lips mapping the entirety of your abdomen in a matter of minutes.

the wobbly smile that you grace him with when his head pokes out from under your little sanctuary is enough to spur him on. your head tips a fraction—gorgeous, needy little thing that you are—demanding his lips that he’s all too happy to surrender. he licks into your mouth, slow and purposeful, tracing your tastebuds and drinking you down.

when you pull back, (barely a whisper away—still in his orbit, noses still brushing, souls still laced together) mumbling a thank you as if he wouldn’t pluck the stars from their place on the horizon for you, as if you didn’t deserve so much more than this, toji feels pinpricks shock his nerves when your fingertips cup his face. a reminder, of what he needs to do for you.

he hopes you can feel the responses he imbues each press of his lips with as he makes his way between your legs: you’re okay, i’ve got you. we’re okay.

he takes a second to rest his forehead just below your navel, shallow puffs of air meeting the apex of your thighs as he breaths in the heady scent of your sex. his hands find purchase along the curve of your ass once he shucks down your bottoms, subconsciously kneading at the flesh and tracing slow circles. you’re barely wet, but who can blame you—your body still preoccupied with the aftershocks of your shivers to convert your want into liquid desire. toji doesn’t see an issue. he lets slick strings of his saliva bubble past the seam of his lips as he suckles your clit. there’s no light, but he can feel the way your flesh becomes slick and swollen with excitement, the way wetness drips down your slit as he drools around your pearl.

his fingers aren’t particularly cold, but he thinks the heated slickness of pink flesh will go down better. he’s right of course, appreciative little whimpers leaving you at the feel of his tongue laving across your folds, smearing his spit along your lips and breaching your first ring of muscle. he doesn’t stretch you on his fingers. just sucks you into the furnace of his mouth, glossy appendage moulding to the shape of your walls, heating you from the inside out until you’re clenching around his tongue and panting.

the siren call of your voice coaxes him to surface once again (has his name ever sounded so inviting than when it’s dripping from your lips?) and toji wishes that he could kiss you until you melt into his bones. he restrains himself as best he can, because this is for you, let’s you press your lips to the corner of his mouth, revelling in the way their plushness settles over the edge of his scar. but his selfishness rears it’s stubborn head and he steals your mouth for himself.

the familiar weight of his erection is pressed against your thigh, and before you can reach for it he’s repositioning himself to loom over you, sucking at the delicate column of your throat and whispering into your skin. this time, his i’ve got you rings more like i’m sorry, and you understand. it isn’t toji’s fault that the autumn chill is ruthless these days. isn’t his fault that your shitty landlord hikes up gas prices so high that a few hours of heating bleeds you dry. and yet here he his, kisses laced with apologies as he pushes the silky head of his cock past your entrance.

the covers unravel with each shallow thrust until you’re left clinging to him, arms around his neck gripping tighter as he bottoms out into the sticky depths of your cunt. somehow his lust-lidded eyes are still piercing in their gaze, threatening to turn your insides molten under searing adoration. his hair is starting to stick to his forehead—inky locks that slip through your fingers like shadows as you cart a hand across his nape.

“y’re so good to me..” it’s said breathily, an airy sigh that tapers into a moan and has pre leaking from his slit and adding to the gentle squelch of your shared arousal. if he were someone else—a better person, maybe—he would disagree, would cease everything and insist that he’s not, that you deserve so much better than him. than this. but the selfish bastard that he is, toji just pulls you closer, rolls his hips until his pelvis is grinding onto your clit, delicious friction that sends you spiralling closer to oblivion. he keeps his pace even, presses a thumb down on your swollen clit when his hips are absent and runs languid, sticky circles as heat sparks in his gut.

his cock is buried against your cervix, pulsing and radiating liquid heat as his fat tip presses against your soft cluster of nerves. your heels are pressing into his lower back, urging him closer as fire ignites in the pit of your stomach and hot rivets of his cum flood from his cock. the tip of his nose is practically crushed against the pulse of your throat, inhaling you by the lungful, devouring you in every way he knows how.

“fuck—fuck, i love you. god you don’t even fuckin’ know—” he’s fucking losing it. maybe he’s drunk on you; loose-lipped and babbling, mindlessly rutting his hips as he fucks his load back into you. it stirs him slightly when his palm flattens against the print of his cock buried in your pussy, drops of his seed spilling from the seams of where his girth has you plugged. its messy. a practically perfect ring of your cream that adorns the base of him like a fucking accessory, his release dripping like honey to the rim of your ass, spit and slick glistening along the coarse hairs of your sexes. it’ll be uncomfortable, might bring regrets in the morning if you don’t clean up. you don’t seem to care though. don’t make any moves to distance yourself from him. his cock twitches sporadically inside you with each featherlight trail of your fingertips along his spine as you lay there, perfectly content, in a tiny apartment on a cheap bed frame with your heart nestled in his calloused palms.

your lips pepper his jaw and he tastes like salt. like sex and passion. like summer dew and love and toji.

and later in the night, when the sound of the 19:16 train rouses you from the cusp of sleep, you kick the outermost blanket from the pile. toji looks at you—no question behind it, but you answer anyway.

“‘s too hot.” and he melts.

one day he’ll give you everything you want. everything you deserve, everything he’s deprived you of for his own pathetic need for you. he wonders if for now this is enough, thinks he might light himself on fire to keep you warm if he had to.

#: @luvkun4 @sheluvzeren

#the wind woke me up so i wrote dis</3 #back to bed ^o^ night night xoxo #toji x reader #toji x reader smut #toji x black reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #soft toji #toji x y/n #toji x you #daddy toji #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader

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