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#i don't know why but this still cracks me up so much
hayatofiles · 2 days
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PROMISCUOUS BOY
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prompt: your next-door neighbour keeps bringing hookups one night after other disturbing your precious sleep. exhausted, you decide to write a letter venting all your frustrations — not expecting that in the middle of all this it would reach it recipient.
pairing: blade, jing yuan x fem! reader
cw: scenario format, modern au, slightly ooc to fit the plot, suggestive themes, mentions of sex, flirt, not beta-read
reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡
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Dear apt 502’ neighbour, I understand that starting a letter with "dear" may sound a bit old-fashioned and ridiculous when I don't even know you, but I hope you take in consideration my romantic spirit as a passionate literature student and will overlook this fact. That said, the reason why we’ve never met is mainly based on the times when I leave and get home. You see, I'm in my last year of a master's degree and the university has been charging all my time and dedication, so I barely have time to take care of myself other than to fall into bed and sleep. But lately, in the late hours of the night, I’ve had my rest interrupted at the only moment when my mind should find peace. And I swear, I've tried to use all possible methods to prevent the noise from affecting me but it has been increasingly difficult. Far be it for me to look for trouble because of someone else sex' life, no. I'd rather say good for you instead. But would it be nice of you to fuck your bitches without breaking my wall in the process? I can deal with their horrible moans, but definitely not with my damaged apartment. Be that as it may, I wish you the best intentions. Your apt 503’ neighbour
Blade
Oh, how you hated your neighbour. You hated him so much.
There were few people who achieved such a feat since you were the most patient and easygoing person to ever exist. Not even your Languages ​​and Cultures II’ partner who was extremely irresponsible or your idiot ex-boyfriend who still didn't seem to understand the meaning of the word break-up were able to get out of you a feeling as negative as hate. But, well, for everything in this life there was a first time, and your not-so-dear-neighbour was getting the upper hand.
When you wrote the letter on one of the dozens of nights in which his nocturnal activities seemed to be more important than other people's rest, you didn't expect a few days later for it to disappear from your desk where it belonged, much less for your friendly doorman to confirm your worst nightmare: all the mail for the week had already been sent.
What was supposed to be a joke turned into more days and nights of stress and you even considered writing him a second letter explaining that it was all just a misunderstanding and that the cracks in your wall weren't that important after all. However, when a week passed and your next-door neighbour's sexual activities began to last until the next morning, you understood that he was deliberately mocking you and, consequently, declaring war.
Now take a good look. You were a person known for your poise and calmness in overcoming challenges despite so much pressure, so it was expected that it’d be no different this time. Except it was. Because not even the calm and composure that the gods gave you could help you ignore the terrible moans in the next room, and the investment you put into that apartment was too high to let it go unnoticed.
And so, at 7:05 am on a Sunday morning, you found yourself in front of apartment 502' door knocking continuously on it as you waited not so patiently the willingness of your neighbour to finish his fuck and attend you. How a person managed to have so much sex drive was beyond your understanding, but perhaps this was due to the fact that your neighbour was an old and lonely man who must have found pleasure in the company of women only at night. Yes, that was a plausible reason.
In the end, you spent at least five minutes abusing the door’s wood without stopping. And just as you prepared to knock once more, it suddenly opened and the man who had tormented you all your nights had finally revealed himself.
Your impressions: Well, old he certainly was. Lonely? Hard to say. Now, unfairly hot and attractive? Unexpectedly yes.
When you came to your senses, you and the half-naked man spent a long time staring at each other in silence, absorbing each other's characteristics. You were clearly affected by his beauty and he was clearly irritated by your presence.
"Are you going to stare at me all the way, or are you going to say what you want?"
You blinked once, twice, three times until his words hit you, making you visibly red with embarrassment. How rude!
"First, good morning to you too," you said venomously, "Second, didn’t you read the letter, no? What part of not breaking the wall didn’t you get?"
The man seemed to take your words into consideration for a few seconds before a sneer appeared on his lips and his eyes narrowed in amusement. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his bare, scarred chest, making him more attractive than he already was.
"I don't see how this is up to you alone. After all, the wall is as much yours as it’s mine," he says and you open your mouth in shock.
"Excuse me? How can I not when it’s my side that is being damaged the most!"
"Then you better start looking for a bricklayer."
Gods, this man was impossible! You already knew that you hated him for a very insignificant reason, but now you were sure that he was more detestable than he let on. And the fact that he counts your arguments with that purposeful blank expression infuriated you even more.
"Unbelievable. Not only can't I keep my apartment intact, but I also have to spend sleepless nights because of the noise too."
"If the noise bothers you so much you can always come and join in," your neighbour offers with a small smirk, but the devilish glow that radiated from his crimson iris didn’t hide the true meaning behind his words.
Too embarrassed and disconcerted to continue the argument with the man, you angrily return to your house, slamming the door aggressively and containing the scream of frustration that bubbled in your chest.
Yingxing in turn couldn't help but think that you had a nice ass, and that annoy you was even better than he thought.
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Jing Yuan
Two whole days looking for the letter all over your apartment took you to the most advanced stage of despair. Even though you had already ransacked your living room from floor to ceiling more times you could remember, messing up your kitchen and bedroom in the process, you still hadn't found a single trace of the piece of paper. And even though a part of you already knew that there was a high chance that the letter had been mixed in with the other correspondences and had been forwarded to its intended recipient, you'd rather have a hole in the ground swallow you than consider the only plausible option.
Even so, now here you found yourself: in front of the apartment 502’ door with a courage and pride that wasn't yours, sweat running down your spine and the dread of finally coming face to face with the man who not only ruined your last nights sleep, but who could very well ruin your social life too. God, just thinking that he could be a troublemaker and report you to the police, tarnishing your criminal record and your reputation as a good neighbor made you sick to your stomach.
But there was no other alternative. You had to make sure he hadn't opened the letter, or, in the worst case, consider not bringing this humiliation to the public.
So, minutes after knocking on the door, you were finally greeted by the resident of apartment 502 who, for much your surprise (or much delight) was wearing nothing but a bath towel with the steam's traces still emanating from his pale, wet skin. It suddenly became very clear to you why all those dozens of women made sure to scream “Oh, Jing Yuan!” every time they reached an orgasm.
"May I help you?"
Yeah. Fucking kill me, you wanted to answer.
The words you had practiced so much seemed to have escaped your brain and a familiar heat burned your cheeks. The embarrassment was huge, but you had already come this far and there was no going back. You only wished your neighbour wasn't this attractive, though.
"Hi. Good evening, sir. I’m your nextdoor neighbour and I wanted to know if by any chance you received a letter signed in my name", you stuttered so fast that you feared you’d have to repeat the sentence all over again since Jing Yuan didn’t seem to express any reaction for a few seconds. 
As the realization hit him, though, a faint gleam of amusement crossed his golden irises and mortification hit you like a bolt of lightning.
Oh shit. He had read the letter.
"Just a moment, ma'am", Jing Yuan said with a playful smile on his lips and entered his apartment for a few seconds, returning shortly afterwards with the well-known envelope in hand.
He held out the letter and you trembled as you finally picked it.
"I can tell that this was not a letter intended to be sent, right?"
"No, it wasn't. And I'm so sorry for causing you so much trouble! God, what a humiliation! Now would be a great time to die", you pleaded into the void and your handsome neighbour laughed in response.
"It’s alright. You know, it's the first time I've received a letter from such a beautiful lady, although the content was definitely not what I expected", he said contemplatively crossing his huge arms on his huge chest. You looked away feeling more embarrassed, "Nevertheless, I also apologize for my lack of attention. I’ll be more considerate from now on."
If only it could get any worse. Here he was apologizing for having a healthy sex life when you should probably be doing the same. Having sex not apologizing, of course. 
Fearing that if you said anything else your words would come out more clumsy than the erratic beating of your heart, you forced a smile to your neighbour who was now looking at you intensely in slight amusement. And realizing that if you stared back at the man for too long your role as a fool would only get worse, you came up with a quick excuse to escape from there and back to your apartment. Maybe your next letter would be a goodbye to the world because you refuse to leave your home from now on.
"Thank you for your attention and again I apologize for the confusion, Mr. Jing Yuan. It was great meeting you, really, but I need to go so have a good night and don’t mind me anymore," you bow quickly and respectfully as your face burned in red, and stumble on wobbly legs back to your door.
However, before you could enter your house due to fumbling with the wrong keys for the lock, Jing Yuan let out a light laugh and replied: “It was my pleasure to meet you, Miss Neighbour. Although, I must say that I would like to keep hearing more from you from now. This time, in person, of course."
Needless to say you entered your apartment at lightning speed vowing never to exit it again, leaving behind a very good-humored Jing Yuan.
How delightful to know that you already knew his name before he even needed to introduce himself, huh.
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sissylittlefeather · 3 days
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I done did it again, y'all.
Suspicious Minds: Part 1
A/N: I watched the movie Argylle and was hit with some insane inspiration and I just couldn't control it. So, please enjoy the first part of this modern AU spy!Elvis x reader fic. I really wanted this to be a one-shot, but I hit 5k words at what I think is the halfway point and had to split it. I'm really excited to write part 2 for this one...
@ccab You know I love you so much. Thank you for screaming about this with me.
Warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, this is intense, gun violence, espionage, cussing, an erection, masturbation (female), kissing, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, I hope that's everything
Word count: ~5.5k
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You adjust your glasses and look back at the computer screen. Your mom is always on you about not staring at a screen in the dark. She's convinced you'll ruin your eyesight, but it's not going to get any better, so why worry? Instead, you focus in again and go back to the hacking you've been working on for the past twelve hours. When you get in this mode, you don't sleep. For you it's like a game. You have a mission and you won't stop until you manage to finish it. You mainly do contract work for government agencies, cracking encryptions and writing code to secure against other hackers. But this was a private contract for a company you didn't recognize. Still, the money was unbelievable, so you took the job just as seriously, put on your EDM music, and got to work.
Now, 12 hours later, you throw your hands in the air in celebration. You finally got to what you were trying to get to. Your assignment is to download what you found onto a flash drive and deliver it to a lock box. But instead, you decide to take a peek at what you've uncovered.
It's maps. But they're maps with what look like targets and information that you're pretty sure you shouldn't see. This appears to be information that is vital to national security. You've done this kind of work before, but never for a private contract. You start to wonder if you should give it to the people who have asked for it. The flash drive blinks red to indicate that all of the information is saved. You eject it and hold it in your hand. Then, you set it on your desk and head to bed. It's 3am and the sunrise will be here before you know it.
******
You wake up with a hand on your mouth and scream into his palm.
"Sh sh sh... I'm the good guy. You're okay, honey, hush." You stop screaming mostly out of shock and he takes his hand off of you slowly.
"Who the fuck-" He puts his hand back over your mouth. Your eyes meet his blue ones and he's shockingly reassuring.
"My name is Elvis. I'm here to protect you. So please stop making noise." His southern drawl is comforting, for some reason. He moves his hand off of your mouth again. You whisper.
"Protect me from what? Or whom, I guess?"
"Where is the flash drive?"
"What?" Just then you hear your front door bust open.
"Goddamnit." He stands up away from your bed and you sit up frantically. "Get dressed, but don't make any noise."
He walks into the living room and you slide out of bed to the floor and crawl over to your closet. You grab some jeans and a bra and get dressed as quickly and quietly as you can, purposely ignoring the sounds of the struggle coming from the living room. But when you hear what sounds like a silenced gunshot, you gasp and run to the doorway. Elvis turns to you, having just shot a man who lays on your carpet bleeding.
"Go back in your room!" The other guy grabs him and punches him in the face, causing him to drop the gun. They trade hits back and forth and you watch. At one point, Elvis kicks the gun and it slides over and hits your feet. The other guy gets him in a headlock and he hollers to you.
"Throw me the gun!"
"The what?" You're so in shock that you can't understand the words he's saying.
"The gun! At your feet!" You look down and see it there, but your brain has a hard time making sense of what's happening. "Just pick it up and throw it to me!"
You pick up the gun and hold it in your hand. You've never held a gun before. It's heavier than you expected.
"Honey, throw it!" You look up at Elvis and he's struggling with the guy wrapped around his neck. You toss it gently and it lands about a foot away from him. He shakes his head at you and then grunts, throwing the guy over him onto the floor. You gasp as he grabs the gun and shoots the guy in the head. As the blood spreads over your floor, you inhale sharply and start to pass out. Elvis catches you and shakes you.
"Not yet, baby. Where is the flash drive?"
"The what?"
"The flash drive! With the information you downloaded from earlier!"
"Oh! It's on my desk." You walk to it and grab it, holding it up for him to see. He snatches it away from you.
"We need to hide this somewhere they'll never expect. Go get your dildo."
"My what?!"
"Your dildo, I'm going to-"
"I do not have one of those."
"Yes, you do. It's pink."
"How do you-"
"Not important! Go get it!" You purse your lips and run to your nightstand.
"It's a vibrator, not a dildo."
"Okay, whatever. Lemme have it." You hand it to him and he opens the end, dumping the batteries on the ground. He slides the flash drive into it and then closes it again.
"Wait... will I get it back?" He walks to you and put his hand on your cheek.
"Honey, stick with me long enough and you won't need it anymore." You blush. He's unimaginably attractive, but you try to ignore what he just said. "Pack a bag. We need to go."
You grab a duffel bag and throw some clothes and toiletries in it as fast as possible. Before you zip it up, he tosses the vibrator in the top and lets you close it.
"Wait. Why should I trust you?" He stops and turns back to face you, running his hand through his black hair in exasperation.
"Honey, I just killed two guys to protect you. You really need to ask that?" You shrug your shoulders and look up at him.
"I don't know you." He grabs your shoulders and looks into your eyes.
"My name is Elvis Presley. I'm an agent for the good guys. I'm here to take care of you and make sure no harm comes to you or that flash drive of information you collected. I promise you can trust me. Now, we need to go. Are you coming?"
You look into his face for half a second and then nod. You're not sure where this is going or even how you got here, but you have no choice other than to trust this man.
You run down the stairs of your apartment building with him close behind you. He puts his hand on the small of your back and practically pushes you toward his car. When you get to it, your mouth drops open. It's a 1970 Stutz Blackhawk.
"Isn't this a little conspicuous?" You ask as you slide into the passenger seat. He gets in and closes the door, starting it up.
"It's too conspicuous. No one would ever think it's mine. What kind of spy drives a car like this?"
"Are you James Bond?" He laughs as he pulls out onto the street.
"No. Bond is British." You think it's interesting that that's what he chooses to prove his difference. Like everything else about them is the same. You look out the window as buildings flash by. The sun is starting to peek over the horizon and it hits you that you've only had a couple of hours of sleep.
"Where are we going?" You ask sleepily, yawning.
"Somewhere safe. But we won't be there for a while. You can go to sleep." You shake your head and try to stay alert.
"No. I'm okay." But you're not. Not at all.
"Honey, this is going to be a long road. You should rest while you can. I won't let anything happen to you." He reaches out and pats your knee softly. You look down at his hand. It's an unexpectedly kind gesture. The exhaustion sets in and you decide to trust that you're safe with him, for now at least. You lean your head against the window and close your eyes, sleep setting in before you have time to think of anything else.
******
You wake up and stretch. That was the strangest dream. It feels like you're on a couch though. You don't remember it, but you must've fallen asleep in the living room after finishing your work.
"You're awake."
You sit up suddenly. It wasn't a dream. He's real. You look around the room and try to figure out where you are, but your surroundings are completely unfamiliar.
"Where are we?"
"Somewhere safe. Are you hungry?" The smell of bacon makes your stomach growl.
"Yes."
"I'm not much of a cook, but I made some peanut butter and banana sandwiches, if you want one." You frown.
"Why do I smell bacon?" A wide smile spreads across his face and a boyish charm shines through that you didn't expect from a hot shot agent.
"C'mere." You walk to the table and he sets a plate in front of you. On it is a sandwich with peanut butter, bananas, and bacon. You wrinkle your nose. "Just try it before you make that face."
You cautiously take a bite. It's better than you expected. Much better. You look up at him surprised and he holds his hands out.
"See! It's good!"
"It really is." He sits down next to you and you both eat your sandwiches. After a few more bites, a thought comes to you. "How did I get in here?"
"I carried you." He says it matter-of-factly like it's something he does all the time.
"Oh. What time is it?" You look around the room for a clock and realize for the first time that you don't have your phone. You must've left it in your apartment.
"It's a little after 2pm. You slept for a while."
The conversation continues and you make small talk. Once you finish eating, you work together to clean up the kitchen and then settle on the couch. It's very small, so you have to sit pretty close together. He turns on the TV and you spend the bulk of the afternoon there. For dinner, he orders a pizza and you sit together and eat awkwardly again. The evening passes in front of the TV and before you know it, it's time for bed. He stands up and walks from room to room.
"I'll be damned." He shakes his head frustratedly.
"What?"
"There's only one goddamn bed in this house. I'll have to sleep on the couch." You both look over at the tiny couch. It's essentially a love seat, so there's no way he will fit on there comfortably.
"Or I could?"
"No, you need to be in the bed behind a door, in case someone comes in during the night." You swallow deeply. That prospect is terrifying.
"O-okay, then. Goodnight..." He nods and you take your bag into the room with the bed. Once you have your pajamas on, you settle into the bed and the reality of your situation hits you. It's like the adrenaline from the day wears off and it becomes clear to you just how scary things are right now. The tears gather in your eyes and then start to slide down your face. Will your life ever go back to normal? What happens if these guys catch up to you? Before you know it, you're crying pretty hard, holding yourself and trying to breathe.
Elvis sits on the couch in the living room and tries not to hear you crying. He's been assigned to protect plenty of women, but there's something about you that makes him a little crazy. He shouldn't even think about what he's considering right now. Still, he considers it as the sounds of you crying come from the bedroom. It's torture for him to know how scared and alone you must be in there. He lays back on the little couch and tries to get comfortable.
"Goddamnit."
You're in the bed with tears on your cheeks when you hear the door open. You sit up quickly and see Elvis in the doorway.
"You alright?"
"No. Why the fuck would I be alright?! My life is literally in shambles. And I'm stuck here with..."
"With me?"
"No, that's not what I meant. I just mean... I'm scared. And I have no one." He sits down next to you on the bed. He almost whispers.
"You have me." You look up at him and he reaches out and wipes the tears off your cheek with his thumb. You're not sure why he's being so sweet to you, but it's exactly what you need right now.
"Will you... will you stay with me?" He clears his throat and pulls his hand back.
"Oh... you know..."
"Never mind. It's okay." You look down at your hands in your lap and try to ignore the lump in your throat.
"Yes. I'll stay in here with you. It's probably better that I stay close to protect you anyway. And there won't be any sleeping on that couch. The bed is the better option." You look up at him and nod.
Yes, he's sleeping with you because the couch is too small. Not because he can't stop wondering what it would feel like to wrap his arms around you. You lay down and he lays down next to you without touching you. You reach over and turn the lamp off.
"Well, goodnight." He looks over at you in the dark.
"Goodnight, Elvis."
You both lay there silently trying to fall asleep. It takes a while, but eventually you drift off.
******
In the morning, you wake up with your back pressed against him and his arm around you. You don't think anything of it really until you feel him. He has a massive erection and it's currently pushing up against you. You start to giggle uncontrollably and your movement wakes him up.
"What's going on? Why are you laughing?"
"Y-you..." You get out in between giggles. "I can feel you..."
"Fucking hell." He rolls away from you quickly, but it's even more obvious when he's on his back. "Goddamnit. I'm sorry."
He sits up on the edge of the bed facing away from you.
"I'm sorry. I just... it's morning... God..." You're laughing so hard that you can hardly breathe. He stands up and walks quickly to the door, muttering as he goes. "I'll sleep on the couch tonight."
He leaves you in the room laughing and hoping that he doesn't sleep on the couch.
The day passes slowly and awkwardly with the two of you eating sandwiches and watching TV again. Around noon, you decide to take a shower.
"I'm not sure that's smart."
"Why not?"
"I can't protect you if I can't see you." You roll your eyes.
"I've been fine this whole time. I think I'll be okay for a twenty minute shower." He thinks for a minute.
"Leave the door cracked."
"What? No!" He sighs, exasperated.
"I won't look. I'll just be able to hear you and get in fast if anything happens. Otherwise, no shower."
"Okay, fine."
You leave the door cracked and get into the shower, looking in the mirror to make sure he isn't watching. He's nowhere to be found, so you relax and let the hot water wash over you. It feels so good running down your skin, cutting hot pathways on your shoulders and thighs. Suddenly, a thought wriggles its way into your brain and won't go away. You imagine him in the shower with you, pressed up against your back. What you felt this morning is hard to ignore and you wonder what he looks like without his clothes on. You think about his hands running over your body and before you know it, it's not the shower making you wet. You peek in the mirror again to make sure Elvis is still not looking. When you're satisfied he's not there, your hand slides down the front of your abdomen until your fingers find your clit. You begin to make circles and think about his mouth. He has a beautiful mouth and the thought of it pressed to you as his tongue makes circles on you just about drives you wild. You slide a finger into yourself and pump it in and out as you continue to rub over and around your sensitive bud. Then, you imagine him on top of you, slamming his cock into you and without thinking, you moan.
"Elvis..." You say it quietly, but it's loud enough for him to hear it with the door cracked. He stands just outside and looks in the mirror to make sure you're okay. He can see the outline of your body through the foggy glass shower door. That's when he realizes what you're doing and swallows hard. When you cum, hard, on your own hand and say his name again, he almost loses it.
He cannot be having these thoughts about you. Sure, he's had sex with girls on missions before, it's practically his trademark, but something about this feels different. He doesn't want to fuck you. He wants to make love to you. And that thought terrifies him. He peels himself away from the door and goes to sit back on the couch. His erection is back, but there's not much he can do about it right now, so he tries to think of anything else to make it go away. He's dying to go into the other bathroom and do exactly what you just did, but he can't leave you alone. Instead, he tucks himself up under his belt quickly when he hears the water turn off.
"FUCK." He hits the couch next to him and then sits with his head in his hands. This cannot be happening.
"Are you okay?" He looks up at you quickly, standing there with your hair wet.
"Mhmmm. Yep, I'm fine."
"You don't look fine." You think to yourself that he looks like he's about to cry.
"Well I am. Let's just... watch TV, okay?"
"Okay..." You sit down on the couch next to him and spend the rest of the afternoon watching TV. What you don't know is that Elvis is in misery being so close to you without touching you. And what he doesn't know is that you want him to touch you more than anything in the world.
******
Finally, evening comes and you start to get hungry.
"What's for dinner?"
"Well. I'm kind of a one-trick pony in the kitchen. I don't think you want another sandwich." He seems to have relaxed after whatever happened earlier.
"I can cook."
"Or we can just go get something."
"No, I'd like to cook for you. As a thank you for protecting me." He tries not to give himself away by how he looks at you, but the tension between you is palpable. "Can we go to the store? Is that allowed?"
"Yes, that should be fine. If they knew where we were we'd know it by now."
You get back into the Blackhawk and make your way to the grocery store. You're in a small town away from where you live, so there's only one store. Elvis stays close to you as you wander the aisles for what you need to make dinner. You also grab some essentials. He's not sure how long you'll have to be at the house, so you get food to keep you sustained for at least a few days. Once you've gotten everything you need and checked out, you make your way back to the house and get to work in the kitchen.
He watches as you move around gracefully and longs to put his arms around you. You notice him staring and decide he needs a task.
"Get over here and chop something."
"Yes ma'am." He salutes you jokingly and you set him up with some peppers.
"Where did you learn to cook like this?"
"My grandmother. She was an amazing cook. I spent summers with her when I was a kid, so she was able to teach me."
"That's nice."
"What was your family like? Or can't you tell me?"
"I probably shouldn't." You nod. It makes sense that he can't divulge any personal secrets. But he just can't seem to tell you no. "Fuck it. I was very close to my mother growing up. There were a lot of times when it was just me, her, and the shirts on our backs. My father worked a lot. And then she died when I was 23. I had just joined the army."
He gets very quiet and looks down at the vegetables he's chopping intentionally. You walk over and put your hand on his arm gently. The contact makes his heart jump.
"I'm sorry for your loss." He looks down into your face, his eyes flicking between yours and then down to your mouth momentarily. It takes everything in him not to lean down and kiss you.
"Thank you. Anyway I joined the military and was recruited by... who I work for now... and the rest is history."
Finally, the food is ready and you sit down to eat together again. He's impressed by your culinary skills and spends the next few minutes gushing about how good dinner is. The conversation continues and you talk about everything and nothing. Somehow, you make your way around to talking about music.
"Here's a fun question: what do you like better, singing or dancing?" He asks you as the meal comes to a conclusion.
"I'm not much of a singer, but I also don't dance, so I'm not sure how to answer that question." You respond and he laughs.
"You don't dance?"
"Well, I never really have before. Haven't had much opportunity. I was too big of a nerd to go to high school dances and in college I pretty much kept to myself."
"Then, it's not that you don't dance, you just haven't yet. We need to fix that." You're surprised by his enthusiasm, but he's eager for an excuse to touch you. He turns on the radio and finds a station with a good song.
"Really, it's okay. I don't really want to dance."
"C'mon, it's not hard." He puts his arm around your waist and pulls you in close to him. You both breathe deeply and he takes your hand in his. He moves you around the room effortlessly and your embarrassment melts away. The feeling of his arm around you is enough to distract you from anything. He dips you and spins you and before you know it you're both laughing. Eventually the song ends and he holds you close to him and looks down into your face. The next song is a slow one, so he begins to sway gently.
"See, dancing's not so bad."
"No, it's fun with you." You look up at him and his eyes flick down to your lips. He wants to kiss you. You can tell. And you want to let him.
He slowly leans forward, hovering above your mouth with your noses touching. It seems like he's trying to decide something. Eventually, he moves the slightest bit forward and presses his soft lips to yours. The kiss is a sweet one, and he kisses you again like this several times. The fourth time he kisses you, though, he parts your lips with his and dips his tongue into your mouth. By this point you've stopped dancing and both of your arms are around his neck, with both of his around your waist. The heat between you picks up as your mouths move together in a rhythm.
Suddenly, he stops and pulls away from you. He runs his hand through his hair and sighs.
"Y/n, I can't. I can't do this."
"Oh... okay..."
"I'm sorry. You should go to bed. I'll sleep on the couch."
"Okay. I'm sorry if I-"
"You didn't do anything wrong. It's me." You nod your head and walk away from him to the bedroom. After closing the door, you change into your sleeping t-shirt and crawl under the covers. The bed seems lonely without him.
In the living room, he paces back and forth, sitting down periodically. He's going through everything in his mind and trying to convince himself that there's nothing there for you. That he can reasonably fuck you and then move on like he always has. But these thoughts are invaded by other ones: the sound of your laugh, the softness of your smile, the grace with which you moved around the kitchen, and your voice saying his name in the shower. He's never been so frustrated by a woman. He starts to get a little angry. What is it about you anyway? Who are you to come into his life and interrupt it like this? He has a job to do. You're the one being all distracting and unprofessional. He needs to set you straight. You need to know that this is completely inappropriate.
You're almost asleep when the door opens dramatically. You sit up on the side of the bed and Elvis stomps over to you and sits next to you.
"You know why I can't do this, right?" He asks aggressively. You're not sure where this anger is coming from.
"Yeah, it's your job-"
"It is my job! My job is to protect you, not... this... whatever this is..." He gestures frantically to the space between you.
"Elvis, I'm not sure why you're yelling at me." He yells even louder.
"Because! You're making me feel things I don't want to feel!" He looks at you desperately, chest heaving. Your heart is pounding.
"I'm-"
His lips crash into yours with a feverish need. Everything he's just said goes out the window as his hands run over your body and he kisses down your neck. You whimper and he groans with the intense passion. He pulls your t-shirt up over your head and off, tossing it to the side. One hand immediately goes to your breast while his mouth explores the opposite nipple. Your hands are in his hair as he works, your head thrown back in pleasure. The sensation of his lips on your breast is exquisite and you moan as he lightly pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your fingers go to the buttons on his shirt and you fumble with them for a while before he just rips it open and lets you push it backwards off of his shoulders.
He lays you down on the bed surprisingly gently and kisses down your stomach. The only thing separating you from him is your white cotton panties. He sits up on his knees, erection stretching the fabric of his pants, and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties. His eyes search yours for permission and you nod slightly as a smile spreads across his face. He pulls your panties down your legs and off and then presses his lips to your ankle. Pushing your legs open, he drags his finger up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top.
"Can I make you feel good, baby?" He asks as he makes circles on you.
"God, yes, Elvis, please." You whine as he settles between your legs. He starts by pushing his tongue into you and then licking up either side of your sensitive bud. You need him to touch the right spot with his tongue so badly it almost hurts. Your legs shake with desire and he hovers about an inch away from you. You feel his breath on you and it feels like you might die with how close he is. Then, he very softly flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue. "Fuck! Elvis, please!"
Your back arches and your hips buck as you practically beg him. He continues to flick your clit with his tongue, though, adding a little more pressure each time. With each flick of his tongue, the blood rushes to your core and you feel your climax building. Finally, when you're about to scream and your orgasm is just seconds away, he dives in fully, licking your pussy with the entirety of his tongue.
"OH FUCK, ELVIS!" Your orgasm hits you like a runaway train, setting off fireworks all over your body as the pulsating waves of pleasure crash into you. He licks you through your release until you come back down to earth. Then, he sits up and wipes his face with his hand.
"I want- no, I need to make love to you. Please let me make love to you." You sit up and unbutton his pants, pushing them down to free his cock. He grunts as you take him in your hand and pump him, gently moving his foreskin back and forth.
"What are you waiting for?" You whisper. He moans deep in his throat and leans forward on top of you, kicking his pants the rest of the way off. Holding himself in one hand, he teases your clit with his tip and then lines up with your entrance. He begins to push into you slowly, giving your body a chance to adjust to his size. You feel every inch of his cock as he enters you and it fills you up perfectly. Once he's pushed into you fully, he slides almost all the way out and with a slow, deep roll of his hips fills you again. He continues to thrust into you, slow and deep, over and over. His rhythm is steady, his pace dramatic and soulful. You begin to moan softly each time his hips meet yours and he grunts in reply. There's something overwhelmingly sexy about how he's taking his time, filling you, pulling back, and then slowly filling you again. Sweat drips down his face, gathers on his chest, and wets his hair on his brow, matching your own. The feeling of him inside you is unlike anything you've ever experienced before. He reaches down to hold one of your hips, thrusting somehow even deeper than he already was. With every pump, his dick rubs against your g-spot and the slow pace has you dancing on the edge of another orgasm. Just when you think the lovemaking can't get any sweeter, he leans forward and captures your lips in a deep kiss. Then he presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes. All the while, he's still sliding in and out of you, pushing deeper with each thrust.
"Goddamnit, baby. You feel so good." He kisses you again and his pace speeds up the slightest bit. Every time your hips meet, it feels like the next thrust will send you over the edge.
Without pulling out, he rolls over on his side and brings you with him, throwing your leg over his hip. He goes back to thrusting, increasing his speed, but not changing the depth of his strokes. Your eyes meet and his blue ones search yours for something. You're not sure what he's looking for, but you hope he finds it.
"Y/n, I- FUCK." He's interrupted when the coil of his orgasm snaps and he cums hard inside you, closing his eyes and shuddering against you. His release pushes you over the edge and you tumble into oblivion with him, pulsing and fluttering around him. He presses his forehead to yours again as he pumps weakly a few more times and then pulls out of you. Kissing your lips, he rolls over on his back and pulls you onto his chest.
"What were you going to say?"
"Hmm?"
"Right before you came. You were saying something."
"Oh, it was nothing." He thinks to himself that it absolutely was not nothing, but he was probably just caught up in the moment. It doesn't need saying now.
You nod and snuggle into him, hoping he doesn't try to go sleep on the couch. He doesn't, thankfully. He stays right there in the bed with you. He knows it's stupid and inappropriate, but he no longer cares. Maybe you'll be stuck together in the safe house for a long, long time. This is his last thought before you both drift off to sleep.
******
You wake up to the sound of birds chirping and the feeling of Elvis wrapped around you, both of you still naked. You're just about to revel in the closeness and daydream about what you'll do stuck in the safe house today, but Elvis sits straight up in bed.
"What-?"
"Shh, honey, hush." He says it quietly and you start to get scared. "Someone's in the house."
He jumps out of the bed and grabs his pants, pulling them on without buttoning them, and gets his gun from the nightstand. You don't even remember him putting it there.
"Get dressed, quickly and quietly." You nod and slide out of the bed, gathering your clothing and slipping it on silently. He positions you so that you can't be seen from the door and then opens it, gun in hand.
"Ah, Agent Presley. You're awake."
******
Taglist:
@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things
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coolcoolcoolbutwtf · 2 days
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When asked why he doesn't display the same level of power as he did against Trigon, Shego Danny says the more power he brings forth, the closer he gets to being dead. It's true from a certain point of view
Shego was't surprised at the teens dumbfounded expressions. It truly filled him with such glee as their faces twisted with the donning realisation.
Ever since it got out that ''Shego used to be a hero'' the comments about him " joining the good side again" had ramped up!
'"Oh Shego join us and use your powers for the good"' or a remixed version of "'you have such power but you use it for evil"'. Danny had heard it all and it got tiring fast.
So yes Shego would enjoy the horror stricken Faces of the kidi-heros. Because they would. Not. Shut. Up. About. It!
The older heroes had eventually slowed down but not these little twerps. Was it because he held back too much? Should he start hitting them harder so they learned to concentrate on the God damn fight in front of them!?
It had worked great for him so it must be an effective solution!
(He thought he heard a face slap suspiciously sounding like Jazz's echo in the back of his mind.) A quiet swish followed by humming started up, right on que!
"Well brats I gotta go my ride is here and I don't want any of your twerpyness getting on me!" The kids were hit with whiplash by shego's words still and slight guilt.
Aww look at the little baby Heros feeling guilty. Constantly having forced Shego into annoying situations and forcing him into using his powers. How cute they are thinking about what they did.
He still wouldn't forget it and he sure as hell doesn't forgive them but they really are just kids. Isn't it practically teenagers' job to be annoying to adults anyway? Ah to be young again. But speaking about annoying.
"Oi, Shego stop standing around and hop on already!" His boss's filtered voice cracked to life in his com and had him flipping backwards in a rather Nightwing-esk maneuver (not that Nightwing existed quite yet in this dimension) and gave the kiddos a final wave goodbye before jumping on the revving motorcycle his boss drove. Robin looked even more shocked as the bike shot off.
Danny sighed slightly, apparently his boss still loved a flashy exit! The red helm should really have tipped him off about his dramatic nature or the heads in the duffle bag thing a while back. Or maybe future, that was the thing with interdimensional hopping!
Now what he really wanted to know was how much Red hood was going to pay him in compensation for helping out. Because the annoyances Shego would get for "helping" were going to cost Red hood dearly. Mark his words.
"Oh stop being pissy Shego."
"Fuck off Hood you aren't the one that will have to deal with the hero's and their savior complex constantly now." The laugh Danny got in return just cemented his hatred for his boss. :D
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Wip of Shego Danny fighting his boss before he became his boss:b Boss was still fresh free from the LOA.
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4. “You know I’d do anything to have you stay by my side, right? Anything.”
Hi! I had a bad day and was wondering if you could do this, for me? Like honestly this two are my comfort ship
Context/Ideas: Adamsapple wedding, Heaven and Lilith intervenes to try and take the first man back and Lilith is trying to get her (ex) Husband back and trying to make him "see reason' on gow marrying Adam is a mistake. Clearly it doesn't work for them..
If you're still out there anon, I hope this brightens your day. :)
"Lilith, what are you doing here?" Lucifer asked as he stared down his ex-wife. She could not have picked a worse day to show up from her long absence.
Today him and Adam were getting married. In 20 minutes in fact. He didn't have time for her mellow drama his fiance was waiting.
"Lucifer darling, I've come to make you see reason. You don't really want to marry Adam of all people do you? I'm back now, we can be together again." Lilith said in a sweet voice. A voice that had she been here 15 years ago, he would have melted for.
Now it just pisses him off.
"You left me, remember? I've finally found someone to be happy with." He crossed his arms over his chest.
She scoffed at him. "Adam makes you happy? I know you've had needs with me being away and all. I get it, I didn't expect you to go without getting some. But marriage is too far. We are still married!" Her eyes flashed red.
Lucifers own turned red as well. "Actually, after seven years of no contact I can assume you're dead. Our marriage was over the second you walked out the damn door!" He could feel himself getting mad. "I love Adam, maybe more than I loved you."
Lilith gasped, "Take it back!"
The door behind her opened. It was Adam. "Lucifer, do you know why the fuck angels are here and-" He stopped when he saw Lilith. "Hey bitch, how was vacation?" He sneered, he didn't really give a shit. She had been on that beach for so long he was surprised her ass didn't fuse with the beach chair.
Lilith was pissed. Her true demon form came out. "YOU!" She brandished her long sharp claws. "Husband stealing prick!!" She took a swipe at him.
Adam knew he couldn't fight her, as a sinner he had no powers. He couldn't move in time. All he thought about was how this was going to fucking hurt.
So much for a happy wedding day.
He closed his eyes and waited for the pain. But it never came. Adam cracked an eye open and saw that Lucifer had come between them, holding Lilith by the wrist.
"Don't you DARE lay a hand on him. Bringing harm to a ruler of Hell is treason Lilith. You are not the queen anymore." Lucifer growled out his voice demonic.
Lilith just looked at him with a gobsmacked expression. "You can't be serious!?"
"Dead serious." With everything he had he tossed her across the room, she landed in a heep on the floor. "Now, collect your angel pals, go back to heaven and LEAVE US ALONE!"
Lilith got up and glared. "Fine. Marry that second rate loser asshole. Don't come crying to me when it doesn't last." And in a puff of smoke, she was gone.
Lucifer turned to Adam. "Are you okay? What's going on?"
"Sera was trying to get me to go back to heaven with her. I told her to go pound sand." Adam looked at him. "Why did you do that?"
Lucifer cupped Adam's face, looking into golden eyes that stole his every thought. "You know I'd do anything to keep you by my side right? Anything. That means telling her to get lost and stopping her from hurting you."
"You chose me over her?" Adam felt his heart flutter. He was always worried that if the day came that that bitch came back, Luci would choose her. For once, he was glad to be wrong.
"Of course. I love you, Adam. I'm going to marry you for Satan's sake. Speaking of, why aren't you ready?"
"Angels in the way."
Lucifer shook his head. "Well they're gone now. Go get in your suit and I'll meet you out there."
Adam smiled. "Okay. I'll see you out there."
He couldn't wait to marry the love of his life.
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thosewildcharms · 23 hours
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We talk a lot about Rick saying he knew he was in love with his son's best friend, but we need to discuss Michonne's love for, and loyalty to this man since they met. He's always been the one for her.
oh for sure, she chose him from the beginning even if she wasn't fully aware of doing so. btw, if you haven't seen it already, i would recommend this post by @glamaphonic (which is basically required reading in my opinion) for the full trajectory of michonne's feelings for rick.
while I don't necessarily think she was in love with him since day one, you're absolutely right in that it was building from the moment they met. these are the things that stick out to me but let's be real it's not a comprehensive list because she loves him so much. she loves him so so much!
the way she pretty much instantly decided the prison was safe and that she wanted to stay there because of rick. not just by understanding why he was mistrustful of her, but by seeing how he had built a legitimate family from the way he reunited with carol and thanked daryl for taking care of judith. it took her five minutes to clock him as a legitimate leader and has supported him ever since. so much so that in 7x12 she tells him, completely honestly, that he should lead all of the communities. she genuinely admires him, and thinks there is no one better or more capable than him (of course, that's not true: she is lol i'm always so ticked by how surprised she is when he asks her to lead with him in 7x12).
when she sees rick having hallucinations, instead of treating him like a wild animal that you should only approach slowly and carefully (like everyone else did) she sees herself in him and goes out of her way to make him feel better. if anything it actually makes her trust and understand him more. and she gets him to crack a joke and smile!
the fact that not only was she not angry, but told him she completely understood that he had to consider giving her up to the governor, who she *knows* is a psychopath. that SHE of all people was the one to empathize with him for having to make that choice? that is truly bonkers when you think about it. a level of loyalty and understanding and care that makes very little sense considering how they still barely knew each other then. but it ~*~must have been something else then~*~
the way she bursts into tears of joy and looks to the sky in thanks after finding carl and rick after the prison. you know she would have been glad to find anyone when she started following that trail but you could tell that those two are who she wanted to find more than anyone else. and the fact that doing so seemed to restore her faith? shut up???
after she finds rick and carl she asks him "is this home? or just a stop along the way?" she was willing to stay put and build a home with just him and carl without bothering to look for anyone else. as @glamaphonic said, she claims them right then and there. (btw i noticed that a similar conversation happened with carol and tyresse in The Grove, and also with sasha and abraham in...some later episode idk which one, but they're in an office building. i just thought it was interesting! i wonder if the carol/tyreese instance was a nod to the comics?)
rick thinks that killing a man with his throat is the worst thing he's ever done. certainly carl saw it as monstrous (as it made him think he was a monster too, for being too similar to rick) even daryl backed away from it. only michonne saw it for the heroic act it was and it made her fall in love with him. and she made him feel better too. again, she sees a kindred spirit in him as someone willing to do anything, including things most people would not do, to protect his child.
she is always ready to back him up and fight with him, as well as for him. the only time she disagrees with him is when she knows there is a better option for them, and even then she's gentle and supportive while she convinces him there's a better way (directing the group to alexandria, "i'm still with you", the fight against n*gan, the end of towl 1x04, probably more that i'm forgetting). she considers him her equal in every way, and considering how self-reliant michonne is, that says everything.
okay but seriously the EASIEST way to piss michonne off is to talk shit about rick, talk shit to rick, put your hands on rick, or even just look at rick in a way she doesn't like. she just starts yelling and/ swinging, which is hilarious because she's normally so collected.
on the other hand the only thing that makes michonne lose her shit completely and genuinely panic is if rick is legitimately in danger (the end of 6x09, the bridge)
if she thinks he's dead, she straight up just. stops. mid battle. just drops her weapon and stops. i'm almost glad we never got flashbacks to the time immediately after the bridge because it might have been too devastating to watch.
she never rejects him. even when they're at odds, she's still goes out of her way to show him she still supports him (5x16, their kiss in 7x08).
rick straight up would not have survived losing carl if he hadn't had michonne. she is so loving and patient and gentle with him even through her own grief it's incredible. she loves him SO much (and i have to point out, rick is the same for her. as devastating as carl's death is, watching them work through it together was beautiful).
she is always trying to ease his burden and be a legitimate partner to him. there are countless examples of this but the big one for me is how she considers n*gan her responsibility after season 8. rick made the call but she backed him and kept backing him even though everyone was against them, even when they both had doubts. she completely meant it when she said she wanted for them to make all of their decisions together and for once he's not completely alone as a leader.
speaking of the n*gan thing. michonne stands in maggie's way until maggie asks her what she would have done if it had been rick who had been butchered in front of her, if she could have just let that go. definitely, the answer was no. just like rick couldn't have if it had been michonne.
(because she can't live without him anymore than he can live without her).
she was flipping over dead walkers for months after the bridge and did not move on for over 6 years because she could *feel* he was still alive despite all evidence to the contrary and also simply because there was no one else she wanted. it's him or no one. just as it's her or no one for him. you can actually see her flinch a little toward the end of her kiss with ezekiel.
wearing his clothes and wrapping them around herself like a hug when she really really missed him
talking to him long after he was gone
setting off to find him on foot over nothing more than a hint that he was alive
all of the ones who live. like, that would honestly need its own post but do we even need it? that show dialed this love story up to like a twenty. she spent an entire episode saving him from himself. almost died trying to find him in the first place. jumped his ass out of a helicopter. her faith in him and them saves the entire world.
truly, her response to his proposal/vows is spot on: "it could only ever have been you." it was always him, it was only ever going to be him. it's him, or it's no one.
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hanakoofthejungle · 5 hours
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HuskerDust watercolor fanart based on the fanfiction, Casino of Love by @artwaterfall. The fanfiction, in turn, was inspired by the Overlord Husk AU created by @celestialalpacaron.
Drawing timelapse 
This scene comes from Chapter 15 where Husk and Angel went on their first date at Fizzmodeus' restaurant. They had lobsters. Angel did not know how to eat a lobster so Husk came to the rescue. Basically, they just abused the hell out of that poor dead creature. (It occurred to me: Where does the lobster's soul go? Does it end up in hell, watching its body being consumed?)
---
Angel tried again to pry the shell off still looking over to the side. “Am I doing it?”
Husk barked a laugh so loud the pianist looked up frowning.
“Ya gotta look at what ya doing.”
“Ugh,” Angel deflated and let the lobster rest on the plate, “ maybe I shouldn't have lobster.”
“Here,” Husk got up and walked behind his chair. He laid his hand over Angel's and resumed trying to pry the poor crustacean body.
Angel blushed at the proximity, Husk was practically whispering into his ear about the damn lobster but Angel had trouble focusing with the overlord's hand on his own.
Still Angel butchered the first half of his lobster and screamed in joy a little too loud at having half of it done. People downstairs looked up at them again, frowning.
Husk was still helping him with the second half, juices and lobster bits flying everywhere at Angel clumsiness but every time they joined stares at each other, he would find the cat laughing along with him.
---
Now why did I choose this scene to draw? Because it is fun, simple, wholesome couple interaction and very relatable. It reminds me of the time when I had lobster for the first time in Brussels, spending more time to crack open the lobster than actually enjoying the dish. Turns out lobster did not taste that great, but at the least the group of elderly American at the next table got a good laugh out of watching me and my friend absolutely butcher that lobster :)))
Having never watched Helluva Boss, I had to look up what the inside of that place looks like, but mistakes ensure due to that very wrong heart shape and lack of patterns on the wallpaper. I was lazy but hey at least I got that lamp thingy on the table right :))) As usual, the clothes are the focal point of my fanarts, "a beautiful deep blue, floor length dress, there was only one shoulder strap and a lace veil came from it all the way to the floor behind his shoulder" and "freshly pressed black suit with a deep blue tie that matched Angel's dress". Husk's suit in this drawing is not actually black but a mix of ultramarine and sepia. I usually don't use colors straight out of the pan, but mixing them. I made an exception in this with the lake red color of Husk's wing. I forgot to draw the wings before I did the line art, so I need the color at its strongest to cover the line art which was not supposed to be there.  
My tools still include pencil and Leningrad watercolor. I have been using that watercolor set for over 10 years and it is still the best watercolor set I have ever had. This time I use the Blue Uni-ball pen by Mitsubishi Pencil instead of black M&G gel pen. The line art looks much smoother and the waterproof blue ink added a nice touch to the drawing. I expect nothing less from one of the best pen manufacturers out there. 
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ktaerssoi · 1 day
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summary: after a long game, that the team lost, paige comes home wanting nothing more then to cuddle with her girlfriend.
paige bueckers x fem!reader
postgame blues.
(1k)
watching your girlfriend struggle to keep her cool in the middle of a game against Iowa was difficult, it was even worse because you couldn't even be there in the stadium. due to your professor assigning a paper last week out of the blue, you were unable to go to the game and support Paige because you had to write a conclusion on the mathematics of something.
you weren't getting much work done as you had been too distracted by Paige during the game, so you ultimately turned it off in the third quarter but kept your phone notifications on.
as the last quarter finishes, you get one final notification letting you know that UConn has not won against Iowa. tonight was going to be hard for Paige.
-
Paige got home about an hour later, and you had been prepared for her to just go straight upstairs and shower, and be pretty quiet for the rest of the night. But, to your surprise, she instead unlocked the door, dropped her bag down, and came and hugged you on the couch.
"p, you know I am so proud of you right?" you whisper as you feel her shove her head further into your neck, she nods a little. "so you know that losing this game does not take away from your value as a person, right?" she nods again, and you can feel a tear dampen your shirt.
"p, baby," you lift her head, looking at her for a moment, wiping her cheeks dry before pulling her back to you. planting a kiss on her head, you get up, heading to the kitchen. grabbing two spoons and a half-eaten container of cherry garcia ice cream, Paige's favorite, you walk back into the living room where Paige is now sitting up, her head leaning against the cushions as she zones out.
"Paige, c'mon baby, don't dwell on this game, it doesn't define your career okay? you're so much more than just your sport." your words seem to hold only truth, and Paige nods, a faint smile on her lips as you hand her a spoon and the ice cream.
"did you watch the game?" Paige asked quietly, you felt bad not watching the game in full, but you did have work you needed to do. "I watched the first half, but I had to turn it off because you were distracting me from my essay," you smile at her, taking a spoonful of ice cream. she nods slowly, seeming to relax a little as she knows the game is over and you still love her even after her "bad performance" in said game.
Once the ice cream is gone, you get up and throw away the empty container. you realize suddenly that Paige is still in her uniform, and you plop down next to her on the couch again as you pull her closer to you. "why don't you go take a shower? get changed and we can watch some TV or something." Paige looks up at you suddenly, "trying to get rid of me?" she smiles, cracking her first joke since she had been home.
"oh gosh no, I will miss you so dearly well you're away for 15 minutes, I can barely function even thinking about it." you kiss her head squeezing her extra tight as you get up from the couch for the second time, pulling her up with you. once the two of you were standing, she towered over you, standing at a good 5'4 you weren't necessarily the tallest person in the world.
"What is your way of convincing me to shower to get in with me? if so, it's working." she smiles down at you, and you pray the room is dim enough that she doesn't spot the pinkish hue covering your cheeks. "ha ha. no, I am going to go make our bed and find a movie we can watch once you get out of the shower. alone."
paige sighs as she starts heading towards the bathroom, and you follow behind her, but you quickly turn to end up in your guys' bedroom, plopping down on the bed trying to locate the remote. it had been almost ten minutes before you heard the water start running. this girl and her 45-minute showers. you roll your eyes as you scroll through, finding a good-sounding movie, Repo Man. You make the bed quickly and find your phone, trying to pass the time as you wait for Paige.
when she finally gets out to your bedroom, gets dressed, and climbs onto the bed next to you it is almost 11 pm. "Paige, I think you might have just taken the longest shower in human history." you smile at her, crossing your arms as you rest against the headboard. "I had to wash the loss off of me, can't bring that into this sacred bed." she pats the space between you at the end of her statement, getting an eye roll and a smile from you.
once you two start the movie and get comfortable, Paige is already half asleep on top of you. her head was resting comfortably on your shoulder, and her legs were tangled with yours as her soft snores could be heard not even an hour into the movie, you kissed her forehead, turned off the tv, and rolled over to lean into her.
-
you wake up to giggles from the doorway as you see KK with her phone out taking pictures of you two cuddling. She had found the key, again.
bro omg there is this girl in my class and i actually like her like a lot but i literally cannot tell if shes gay so and like were friends, i mean she sits in front of me and we talk like all the time and she always gives me such mixed signals but literally i was leaning on her a little and we were watching her tiktok or wtvr and AN EDIT OF PAIGE CAME UP and she said she was fine SO I THINK SHES INTO GIRLS. sos chat. - kate
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wheels-of-despair · 2 days
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Live A Little | A Worth It AU | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist
In This Edition: You and Ralph rest and have a little reunion! Words: 1.7k
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"Oi!"
You wake with a jolt, panicked by the shout in your ear, and instinctively cover Ralph's body with your own. It's bright. Someone has removed the blanket that should be covering your heads.
"Easy, dearie, just making sure you're still alive." You look up, into the concerned eyes of a blonde woman. "How about your fella?"
You ease your body off of him and look down.
Why didn't that wake him? She shouted at you. You'd half-jumped on top of him. How deeply can one man sleep?
"Ralph?" you ask, giving his shoulder a nudge. He doesn't rouse. "Come on, Ralph." You touch the side of his face. Why he still so cold?
"Oh, my stars…" the woman whispers.
"Ralph!" you cry out, shaking his shoulder.
He groans and opens his eyes, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.
"S'wrong?"
"Nothing, sweetheart," you smile, tears of relief welling in your eyes. "Nothing at at all." You lean forward to kiss his temple, and he nuzzles his cold nose into your neck. You wrap an arm around him to keep him close.
"Have you eaten since you arrived?" the woman asks. She's perched on one of the chairs you've been hiding behind. You notice now that she's wearing a stewardess uniform.
"No," you answer.
"You stay right there," she instructs as she rises from her chair, as if you had the strength to go anywhere.
"Who's that?" Ralph asks.
"A stewardess," you answer. "Just checking on us."
"I'm so tired," he whines.
"I know, darling," you sigh.
"My head."
"I know, darling," you repeat. Yours is throbbing as well. Your throat is raw. You ache all over. You place a gentle kiss to his temple. If that would transfer all his suffering to you, you'd take it willingly.
"What's the time?"
"I… don't know." You lift your head a bit and squint into the bright lights of the room, looking for a window that'll tell you if it's night or day, but you can't see one. You let your head fall back to your coat, which is serving as a makeshift pillow.
"Here we are, my dears," the stewardess announces. She sets a tray on a nearby table. "It'll be much easier to eat your soup if you can sit up for me."
You and Ralph drag yourselves off the floor and lean your backs against the wall. The pain worsens when you sit. Your head is pounding. Every bone in your body aches.
"There we are," she smiles. She hands you each a bowl of soup with a spoon in it. "That'll warm you right up. Might even give you enough strength to get to a real bed."
"Thank you," you mumble. Ralph echoes your sentiments, and you both take your first spoonful of soup. It's heavenly.
"My name is Anna," the stewardess smiles. "Might I ask your names?"
You tell her, and she writes it down on a pad you hadn't noticed. She sees your eyes on it, and smiles.
"Lots of people looking for loved ones. We have hundreds of survivors on board, and everyone's all scattered. If someone asks for you, I have faces now. Are you looking for anyone?"
You give her Molly and Victoria's names, and she writes those down too.
"Would you like me to try and find you a room? Some of our passengers have given up their own cabins, hoping to make you poor dears more comfortable."
You look over at Ralph, struggling to lift his spoon, and shake your aching head.
"Here is fine," you tell her.
"That's perfectly alright," she smiles. "Eat your soup, I'll be back shortly."
When she leaves, you drop your spoon and drink your soup in a way that would make your mother die of embarrassment.
"Let me, love," you say as you reach for Ralph's soup. You set his spoon aside and hold his bowl to his mouth, letting him drink as you had. When the soup is gone, you dab at his cracked lips with your handkerchief.
It's the same one you'd used to draw him to his door. How many days ago had that been? It feels like a lifetime ago.
You tuck it back into your pocket with a sad smile, remembering how happy you both were that day.
"Would you like me to take those away?" You return your empty bowls to Anna with a quiet word of thanks. "If you need anything at all, just ask for Anna. Alright?"
You nod, but as she rises, a thought occurs to you.
"Wait," you call. She turns. "What day is it?"
"Today is Tuesday, April 16th, 1912. The time is," she consults a clock somewhere to her left, "7:16 am."
"Thank you," you whisper, ready to fall back on the floor and sleep for another few hours.
And that's exactly what you do. You and Ralph resume your positions on your makeshift bed, holding each other tight with blankets pulled over your heads, and fall back asleep… but a little warmer this time, thanks to the soup.
When you wake up again, you're a little less groggy. You take in your surroundings. A plaid blanket over your head, light streaming through a hole in the fabric. Your coat as a pillow. A pair of brown eyes staring into yours.
"Good… do you think it's morning or night?" you ask quietly.
"I don't know," Ralph whispers.
"Are you alright?"
Ralph's eyes fill with worry. He doesn't answer. You slide a little closer and take his hand in yours, giving his knuckles a kiss.
"We're alive, and we're together. I don't think we could ask for much more right now."
Ralph nods once in agreement.
"I think I need to get off of this floor, though," you groan, flipping onto your back and attempting to stretch. The blanket falls off of your face, and you squint at the light. At least your headache has lessened.
You and Ralph help each other off the floor. You stand stiffly and gaze out at the room. The stewardess from last night spots you and rushes over.
"Good afternoon!" she chirps.
"Is it afternoon?" you ask.
"It is 1:43 on the the afternoon of April 16th, 1912, and you are just in time for lunch. There are lavatories just down that hallway," she gestures to a door, "if you'd like to freshen up first."
You follow her instructions, briefly parting with Ralph to witness the horror of your reflection in the mirror. You do what you can, and return to the lounge feeling slightly more human. You sit at a table and eat quietly, hoping that your bread and soup gives you enough strength to stay awake for more than an hour.
"There you are!"
Before you can even look up, a pair of arms wrap around your shoulders from behind. Molly. It's Aunt Molly.
She pulls up a chair and sits with you and Ralph.
"I've been looking all over for you! Where have you two been?"
"Right here," you say weakly. "Sleeping."
"Keep eating, you need your strength. Are you alright?"
"Considering…" you trail off, having a vague memory of a doctor checking you and Ralph for frostbite sometime during the night. He's doing much better with his spoon now, you note proudly.
"Ralph, I saw your sister yesterday, but I don't know where she got off to."
"Oh," he says between bites.
You remember what she said to him that night at the lifeboats, and your blood begins to boil.
"Look at you, getting some color back in your cheeks already," Molly smiles, reaching out to pinch one in a way she knows you hate. "When you're feeling up to it, I'd like you to come to my room."
"Your room?" you question.
"They've moved some of the first-class passengers into cabins. I'm sharing one with Hettie - one of the gals I met in the Turkish baths. We can double up and make room for you. It's little, compared to the last one, but you're sure to be more comfortable in there than in here."
You look to Ralph. His eyes meet yours nervously.
"I'd rather stay here with Ralph."
You reach for his hand under the table and give it a squeeze, hoping he knows that you're never letting him go. Not now, not ever.
"Ralph's invited too, sweetheart," she says gently.
A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. Yours matches.
"It's settled, then," she says, leaning back in her chair. "Eat up, then we'll get you to a real bed."
A real bed? Your back spasms at the thought.
You finish your soup, gather your coats and blankets, and follow Molly to a small cabin.
"Hettie and I can share this one, if you're alright here?"
It's a tiny bed, meant for a servant or traveling companion. Just like the one you'd occupied on Titanic.
"I know it'll be tight, but it has to be better than sleeping on the floor in a room with a hundred other people."
"It's wonderful, Molly, thank you," you say gratefully. Ralph nods in agreement. You want desperately to fall into bed and stay there the rest of the day… but shouldn't you go find his sister? See if she cares that he's alive?
"I'm gonna go see what I can do to help, but why don't you two get settled in? Rest a little more? I'll let you know when it's dinnertime."
You nod, unable to argue with the suggestion of more sleep. Aunt Molly exits the room, leaving you alone with Ralph.
"How does she have so much energy?" he asks, blinking slowly.
"Not a clue," you yawn. "Bed?"
"Bed," Ralph confirms.
You ditch your shoes and a few layers of clothing and crawl into the tiny bed. You have to lie on your sides in order to fit. Ralph pulls the covers over your heads, just like you'd done in the lounge, and you drift off with a satisfied sigh.
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a-s-levynn · 4 months
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"Even if the sky cracks in mourning / And the heavens just won't open up for me" A Series of Small Offerings - II/12 - day20
#a series of small offerings#sleep token fanart#elaboration on this piece further down in the tags because this one may confuse people i think#(also please note that i firmly believe that the from the room below version of this song is the superior one)#(so the art was made with that version in mind because that is the version that lives rent free in my brain for reasons)#i've been thinking so much how to approach this one.. i knew pretty much since i've made the challenge that i will go with this line#specifically because i refuse to hear it as the lyrics sites and spotify tells me to hear it (as it appears in the post) but instead#i don't hear the 'the' in any version of the song i'm sorry that is just not there#so i'm convinced it is 'as the sky cracks in mourning'#(sky cracking-lightning;sky mourning-rain)#which is also exactly how the song feels to me#being a sad wet cat of a person standing bare feet in a strom and just crying 'why i was i so blind to my own hubris'#specifically in relation of finally (and far too late) understanding you fucked up a relationship so bad it still hurts years after#if you've ever felt anything remotely similar you know what i'm talking about#and you get why i refuse it being 'in the morning' instead of 'in mourning'#vessel i#vessel#vessel sleep token#vessel fanart#sleep token band#sleeptoken#levynn tries to draw#sleep token#edit: i don't mean to offend those who stand behind the line being 'in the morning' btw i just don't hear it#and i don't think i'm correct. i'm correct for me. not in your stead. half the lyrics can be heard at least two ways#edit2: appearently i'm actually right about something for a change.. a truly unusual turn of events#see comments for referrence pls#also edited this post to the correct lyrics#but leaving the tags for context 'cause thw original version of the post has been rb-d before editing i think
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chuluoyi · 1 month
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yours, indefinitely
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- geto suguru x reader
each memorable and meaningful moment shared by the two of you during your journey to parenthood ♡
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact! (yes i can't resist it) pregnancy, a lot of comfort and love, insecurities, hurt/comfort, a dash of crack, soft!geto, massive and absolute fluff !!
note: based on this and this. this... is an idea i got after writing drabbles about soft dad gojo :') you all know this is my first time writing geto and the first time in a while i'm writing a longer fic so i'm having a lot of doubts but i hope you'll enjoy it!! wc. 3k !
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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When you found out that you were five weeks pregnant, you were genuinely conflicted for two reasons— one, it was unexpected as you weren't even married yet, and two, you were anxious about your boyfriend's reaction to the news.
But contrary to your worries and fears, doubts and tears... Geto Suguru marries you. He led you to the city hall almost immediately— and just like that, in the eyes of the law, you were officially husband and wife.
Because he has always known that he wants to share his life with you, and with this newfound responsibility, it only reinforces his conviction that he wants that kind of forever with you.
month two
Your pregnancy wasn't a breeze—no pregnancy is, to be exact—and you had resigned yourself to mornings of throwing up, but you definitely didn't expect that you would get so sick to the point of almost passing out in the bathroom.
You never wanted Suguru to see you like this, but when a strong arm got a hold of you and pulled back your hair, your heart soared regardless.
"Hey, you okay?" Suguru asked, clear worry lined in his eyes. It was five in the morning—he must've been awoken by the ruckus you caused in the bathroom.
When you heaved a breath and nodded, his frown deepened. "Why didn't you call me?"
"N-no, Sugu—" the words barely left your lips before the overwhelming urge to retch hit you again and you doubled over the toilet bowl.
Suguru maintained a steady hold on your body, and not once did he waver even when you puked your guts out. His grip only loosened when you were done, supporting you up and assisting you in rinsing your mouth at the sink.
"Do you feel better?" he asked gently, dabbing your mouth with a tissue. "Do you want me to get you some water?"
"Suguru, you don't have to—" you untangled yourself from him feebly, still feeling faint. "It stinks here—"
"I have to," he reinforced, gaze boring straight at you. "Do you really think a smelly bathroom will stop me?"
“I d-don't want to trouble you...”
Suguru sighed and the next thing you knew, you found yourself being lifted in a princess carry, his hands securely under your knees. Surprised, you let out a yelp. "Suguru! P-put me down!"
"I'm telling you, you should trouble me," he pursed his lips together, face inching closer to yours, his dark eyes captivating, almost drawing you in. "We're in this together, remember?"
And in that very second, the sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and with it a renewed sense of love you had for this man, once just a figure you admired from afar and now, wholly your husband.
"Yeah..." you responded with a soft smile, completely unaware that Suguru cherished seeing that expression on your face more than anything else.
month three
When you reached the third month, you thank all heavenly deities out there that your nausea was getting much better.
But in its place was your outrageous craving requests that more often than not sent Suguru into a daze.
"Wha? Say that again?" he looked at you with twitching eyes, mostly in disbelief. "You can't seriously ask me to... get what?"
"Ice cream with lemon toothpaste flavor," you looked at him with sad puppy eyes, almost resembling that glassy-eyed emoji. "It seemed tasty, Suguru... I want it."
His immediate response was clear this time. "No. Love, that... I doubt that combination even exists."
"Hmph... but baby wants it."
"But—!"
"Or I'll just get the toothpaste and—"
"No! Absolutely no!" okay, this was crazy, but Suguru would figure it out, somehow. "You can't eat toothpaste! I'll get it for you, okay!"
"Teehee~" your small giggle actually made his head spin even further, but if it meant you and your baby's wellbeing, Geto Suguru would cross the roads and did something to get you that non-existent ice cream.
In the end, he settled for mint and orange (because the parlor ran out of lemon) to recreate the nonsense of lemon toothpaste flavor. But when you tasted it, your eyes welled up with tears though.
“This... doesn't taste like toothpaste or lemon,” you sniffled, feeling betrayed. “Suguru, you liar.”
. . . oh, and here goes round two of wild goose chase of recreating edible ice cream for you and the baby. Sigh.
month four
With each passing day, your belly swelled, becoming increasingly prominent and rounder. And you wouldn’t believe it but the pregnancy glow was there—through your husband’s eyes, you looked most radiant, carrying his baby.
And it multiplied more when he saw you interact with his two girls.
"Miss Y/N, is it a boy or a girl?" Nanako inquired, touching your bump, her voice filled with excitement.
"Ah, we haven't found out yet..." you patted her in the head, quite touched that now she cared for you this much too. "What do you think it's going to be, Nanako-chan?"
"Ooh, it has to be a boy! If it's a boy, surely he'll be as handsome as Master Geto!"
Mimiko, ever the calmer of the two, hummed. "Hmm, personally I think it's going to be a girl."
"Ehh? If it's a girl... I guess, yeah— at least she's going to be cute!"
Maybe it was your hormones at play, but your spirits dampened somewhat when you noticed how Nanako leaned more towards the prospect of baby brother. The thought lingered in your mind even later that night on your marital bed, as Suguru spooned you from behind.
“Come to think about it, I think we can find out the gender right about now…” you mused, stroking your belly absentmindedly. “Suguru, do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”
Suguru chuckled, placing his warm, bigger hand over yours on your growing tummy. “Hmm, you first. What do you think?”
"Honestly... a girl. At least, if it were up to me, I want a girl though."
"Ah, cute." Suguru felt his smile broaden at the very idea. "Mimiko and Nanako will get an adorable sister to play dress up with."
You nibbled your lower lip. "But you'd want a boy, wouldn't you?"
"Hm? No," he responded almost immediately. "Quite the opposite, actually. I'm with you on this one. A girl would be nice."
"Even when you already have the twins?"
"Another baby girl— what's so bad with that?" Suguru sighed against your neck, his palm still tenderly caressing your belly. "One who will look like you—the woman whom I love the most... what are you worried about?"
One thing you loved about Suguru was his eloquence. His words had the power to persuade you, even when they seemed at odds with your own beliefs. And more often than not, his words were always aimed to make you feel safe.
And right now, you couldn't have loved him more.
. . .
In your next checkup, as if the gods were all granting your wish all this time— you're having a girl.
month five
“Why won’t she kick?” Suguru pressed his ears on your tummy on the bed, brows knitting together.
You grinned. “She was quite lively a little while ago. She's probably resting now.”
Suguru pursed his lips into a pout, snuggling closer to your round belly. “Hmm, little one, can you hear me? Just one kick for papa, please?”
Moments like this were ones you cherished the most. Your husband's love for your unborn child always filled your heart with warmth.
“She’s not responding.” Suguru sat up with a gentle sigh, a hint of disappointment shadowing his expression. Yet, he quickly mustered a warm smile for you. “Tired after bothering mama, huh?”
Suddenly, you let out a hearty chuckle. “You know, Suguru… I think our baby resembles you.”
He blinked in puzzlement. “Eh? How so?”
“She’s so peaceful, hardly causes me any discomfort lately—she’s idyllic, just like you.” You could feel your face getting warm but you just had to say this to your husband.
Suguru was visibly taken aback, but then the hints of pink tinted his face as he smiled. “Well… I’m glad that it’s been a smooth experience for you so far.”
Your heart swelled at his tender, genuine smile. Then, as if on cue, you felt the familiar stirrings and flutter inside—
“Suguru!”
You caught his hand and placed it on your tummy, just in time for your daughter to kick.
Suguru’s eyes sparkled with awe. "Did she just—?"
It was a profound moment for him, feeling the tangible sign of the new life you both had created. And as your laughter filled the room, light and joyful, Suguru knew with unwavering certainty—
He would do everything in his power to protect you and this baby. Who had become his whole world now.
month six
It began as one ordinary day— before came the most horrific incident Suguru never thought would happen to you.
He got a call that you had passed out in the train station. Suguru had never truly known fear until then, feeling every hair on his body stand on end. The details he was provided were frustratingly vague, and he desperately tried not to think the worst.
He was teetering on the edge of a panic attack as he made his way towards the hospital you were brought to. The mere possibility of anything harmful happening to either you or the baby was unbearable. He didn't allow himself to consider any negative outcomes, driven by the need to be by your side.
By the time he arrived, you had regained consciousness, though you were still drifting in and out, clinging onto your swimming consciousness.
"Are you okay? Love, talk to me." Suguru got a hold of your hand as soon as he arrived, voice trembling. "What happened?"
"Suguru..." you managed to reply in feeble voice, still feeling the dull pounding in your temples. You could feel him squeeze your hand tighter. "I-I'm sorry... to m-make you worry..."
"Why are you saying sorry?" Suguru gritted his teeth in frustration. Always putting others first, he loved and sometimes hated that trait of yours. He stroked your hair. "Tell me how you feel. Do you feel better? Or should I call the doctor?"
Seeing how deeply concerned he was for both you and your baby brought a tear to your eyes. "I'm f-fine... just a little dizzy is all."
Once the doctor examined you and determined that you needed to stay in the hospital for a day due to low blood pressure, Suguru was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.
"You really, really scared me," he said in a raspy voice. "So many things could've gone wrong. What if you fell into the tracks instead? You would— I —" his voice actually hitched. "I could've lost both of you today."
At his words, a new flood of tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you couldn't help but sniffle. Suguru immediately comforted you.
“You’re okay, you’re okay… Don’t cry, please.” He cradled your face gently, thinking he had spooked you. “Just rest. I’m here,” and his other hand rubbed your belly for reassurance. “You and the baby are safe.”
Through this, you realized once again just how secure you were, with him.
month seven
You had been taking the prenatal classes lately—Suguru insisted on it because there was nothing he wouldn't spare for you— and the reality once again sank into you that you were going to have a little human to love and care soon.
"You need to hold her like this..." the friendly instructor guided, positioning her hand on the back of the doll's head. "Be gentle when washing the head, and make sure not to scratch her—"
Now you were once again learning how to bathe the baby. It felt complicated at first, but after the fifth session, you were getting the hang of it.
Not the case with Suguru though. He seemed to be genuinely struggling.
"No, sir! You're going to drown her like that!" the instructor gasped in horror, pulling the baby doll out of your husband's grasp. "I'm sorry, but the way you're holding her is too risky! You have to lower her slowly—"
It brought a wide smile on your face. It was a rare sight to see him not being good at what he was doing, so seeing him totally confused like this was refreshing.
"This is... not quite as easy as it looks," he let out a long sigh, still trying to wash the doll's head as gently as he was instructed. "And I can't really tell when I'm being too rough or not."
"Just imagine it's a real baby, how soft you think you can be?" you advised, almost giggling. "Babies are delicate, sort of like... oh! You can think of them as sensitive as Gojo!"
Suguru gave you a look. "If it were a baby with Satoru's face... I might just flip and toss him away."
And yet despite having a hard time for it, Suguru was persistent in this practice. Because no way was he going to miss out bathing his baby.
month eight
"Suguru... we—" you said in one intake of breath, but unable to continue as he crashed his lips into yours.
With skilled hands, Suguru deftly maneuvered the inside of your maternity sleepwear, unclasping your bra and your breasts—now heavy and full of milk—spilling out.
You didn’t mean to drag him into this. You just made one comment about how you thought that he no longer seemed to desire you as much now and Suguru responded by pulling you into a searing kiss, as if to show you that he, in fact, very much still does.
He groped your left breast and your body spasmed as you let out a hitched moan, writhing under him.
“What part of you—” he drawled, eyes blazing with certain electricity, voice deep and low—and you couldn’t help getting even wetter down there. “—that you said I’m not interested in anymore, mama?”
You mewled, feeling so small under him. You could only whine as he stripped you out of your silken undergarments and let you lay there bare, ready for the taking.
In Suguru’s eyes, you were the most divine. The mother of his child couldn't be less than heavenly. Seeing you so swollen and so full, with everything that was his—made him harder than ever possible.
You would learn it the fast way as his lips latched on your neck, nimble fingers worked through your breasts, and then your pussy—
“Ride me,” he commanded, right after turning you into a wet mush three times and tasting your cum—which was still as sweet as ever. He helped you get up and sat on his hardened member, that slid so easily inside you as you let out a whimper.
Gone was your gentle husband—he always turned into another beast entirely in bed.
“Look at you, sitting so pretty for me like this,” Suguru remarked with a meaningful grin as he placed his hands on both sides of your enormous belly.
“Mmnghh!” you scrunched your eyes shut. The sounds you made were completely beyond your will by now. Everything was just overwhelming you. The way his thick cock sheathed itself inside you and made you feel full, and the way your baby twisted and turned inside you at the same time was mind-blowing— and you haven't even started moving yet.
You could already see it already, how much of a mess you were going to be in once this ended.
Suguru noticed the baby’s rambunctious movement too and lightly tapped the skin of your belly, maintaining his sly smile.
“Oh, baby… forgive your papa and mama and buckle up, yeah? It’s going to be a rough ride for a bit.”
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And soon, on one fateful morning, you were awoken by signs of labor, followed by your water breaking and full-blown contractions.
Suguru was beside you the entire time, worriedly hovering over you for support. He held you tight, providing comfort as you curled inwards each time intense contraction gripped your womb like a vice, hardening it into a rock-hard mass. Now is the real deal, he thought. Suddenly he was having doubts himself— he was going to become a parent. Both of you are.
Seeing you subjected to that much pain was almost unbearable, and even more so when your pained cries and screams echoed through the room as you brought your baby into the world, but then, then, suddenly—
His baby girl is here. She fit perfectly in his arms, round and snug in her blanket, with the softest black tufts of hair that she inherited from him. She cooed and mewled in her sleep—
—and Geto Suguru thought, nothing—absolutely nothing else mattered the very moment he laid eyes on his beautiful daughter.
"She is so tiny, so precious," Suguru whispered, his finger gently tracing the soft cheeks of the sleeping baby. Leaning on his shoulder, you could only sigh in awe, marveling at the sight of your husband and your new baby.
"Thank you," he turned to you then, eyes brimming with unshed tears and emotions. For giving me a another person to care for and love.
And you were at your happiest, finding yourself falling in love with your husband all over again, knowing well that he would cherish you with everything he had.
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Days and months following the birth of your daughter was hectic and eventful.
Nanako and Mimiko had been a really great help around the house, and they adored your baby daughter more than anything, always taking turns to entertain her and make her all giggly, which brought you to another level of happiness.
And most of all, Suguru had taken his new role as a dad very seriously. You remembered him visibly struggling at baby care classes, but now he was a master of diaper changing and baby bathing— and you wouldn't be surprised if he was even better than you by now.
"Suguru, how are you so great at this all of a sudden?" you genuinely wondered with a literal question mark as you watched him washing your daughter in a bubble bath, her laughter filling the room.
"Hard work and perseverance, love," he replied, his tone light but proud. And you snorted when he gave you a wink.
Your daughter had never been shy to cry her heart out at 3 in the morning too, and each time she did, whenever you were about to leave the bed, Suguru would gently hold you back with a raspy voice, murmuring, "I'll get her. Go back to sleep."
He was the best husband a woman could ask for. Throughout the five months of your postpartum, he always made sure that you stayed hydrated, had a lot of rest and consumed nutritious food to replenish your strength. He always took over the baby-rearing duties whenever possible. You were treated no less than a princess, and honestly you were ever so grateful.
And so this time, despite his willingness, you got up from the bed and went to the baby's room. And the sight there caught your heart—
"There, there..." Suguru's voice was thick with sleep, yet he rocked your daughter back and forth with gentle patience. "Do you want to change your blanket? Is it not comfy for you?"
Your heart softened, melted—perhaps even fluttered away with the wind, turning into mush. When you first discovered a year ago that you were going to have a baby, you could never have anticipated that this was the life you would find yourself in.
Suguru opted to switch the blanket for a new one, but as you watched him fold and unfold it several times, confusion evident on his face, you decided it was time to step in.
"Here, you do it like this," your sudden appearance startled him, as you gently took the fabric away from him and wrapped your fussy daughter in it. "Looks like I finally found something you're still not great at," you teased, a playful smile dancing on your lips.
He was about to usher you back to the bedroom until you said that. "Heh."
You loved this life, and he too wouldn't trade it for the world. In the quiet tranquility of dawn, after both of you had successfully put your baby back to sleep, you spoke, "Thank you... and I love you, Suguru."
But he thought— you shouldn't have to thank him for anything, because after all, Geto Suguru lives for two princesses in his life; you and his baby daughter.
And after this, all that was left was giving you the wedding celebration of your dreams, one that both of you had been setting aside for a while now.
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reiderwriter · 5 months
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Can I request a Spencer babying the reader BAU and everyone on the team is so done with it but reader is confused and oblivious...?
A/N: Thank you for your request! I've been very much feeling post-Prison/ later seasons Spencer recently, so I hope you enjoy this fic!
Warnings: mostly fluff, implied age-gap, slight mentor/mentee dynamic.
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Your first year in the BAU would've been tough had it not been for Doctor Spencer Reid.
It was tough still, but without him, you don't think you'd have been able to handle much of it. He'd been your mentor through each case, taking you under his wing when he wasn't on academic leave, teaching his criminology courses at the FBI Academy.
Those weeks were the hardest, and you found yourself moping about in the office, texting him once or twice a trip for advice.
On one particularly hard case, he'd come back into the office after you'd text. Not to consult on the case, but just to drop you off a chamomile tea and a pastry to brighten your day that little bit.
When he was back, your days were great. He knew so much, and you learnt so much from him so quickly, eagerly consuming his every word. You were so eager to please him that you often forgot others around the two of you.
“Spencer, if you're done fawning after Y/N we have a case to work on,” Emily gently chastised the man as he pulled out your chair for you, ready to sit down to hear the details of your next crime.
“Oh, Emily, thank you, but it's okay. Doctor Reid was just being considerate, I'm sure he'd have done it for anyone.” The shared glances around the room were filled with glib secrecy, but no-one commented further, leaving you slightly baffled.
Those shared looks between the other members of your team had become more common as of late, with each one more worrisome than the next. There was something unsettling about being the only one out of the loop, and as the newest member of the team, and the youngest, it often felt disheartening.
“Y/N, don't worry. Being the youngest member of any team is tough, but you're smart and you're holding your own.” With a pat to your head he walked away, lifting the weight off your shoulders slightly but not fully. You needed to get to the bottom of the BAU's non-verbal communications, and you needed answers.
Your first technique was interrogation. Surely one of them would break and tell you if you laid out your thoughts and feelings clearly.
Surely not, you found, as each member casually and softly blew you off.
“Y/N, you just need to think carefully about how certain members of the team act towards you. How familiar they are. How overly familiar they are.” Tara had at least told you that much, bit it had left you just as confused as the radio silence from the others.
“Everyone has behaved very professionally with me. You've all been very welcoming up to this point, which I appreciate greatly.”
“I wouldn't count gifting you flowers for your first successful case as the most professional act, Y/N,” she said as she sipped her coffee. “But I suppose that is just up to interpretation.
Doctor Reid had sent you flowers after you finished your first case. But there had been extenuating circumstances in that case. You'd both worked on the geographical profile on that case, and together had figured out the species of flower the unsub was using was only cultivated on one local flower orchard. It had cracked the case open and you'd found your unsub hours later.
So the flowers were an extension of that small joint success. That was all.
Your second attempt at figuring out what was going on was observation.
Partially taking Tara’s advice, you tried your best to track the moments when each of the weary looks would come your way.
Overwhelmingly, they seemed to be directed towards Doctor Reid whenever the two of you interacted.
You had to gently inform him of this, before it interrupted both of your abilities to work.
“Doctor Reid, do you know why Emily and Rossi are both currently watching us from between the blinds in their offices?” You whispered to the man, leaning in close to his ear. You were quite sure he didn't know, but a question seemed as good a way as any to broach the topic.
“I do, yes. It's best if you ignore them.”
His nonchalance in the matter shocked you, so sure you were that this would be news to him. You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.
“Why are they staring at us?” You finally managed to force the words out in a small squeak, forcing his eyes back to yours.
“Don't worry about it for now, I'll handle it.” He smiled down as you, and the bright gesture washed away more of the tension you'd been feeling in the office. You smiled back at him as he rose from his desk chair and carried himself to the stairs. You giggled when he winked down at you, just as you noticed Emily frantically hurrying away from her office window as Spencer knocked on her door.
As much as he told you to not worry about it all though, you really couldn't help yourself. You found yourself growing more clumsy under the watchful eyes of your entire team, galling more times than you'd care to admit into Doctor Reid's arms. He always caught you, though, and you were thankful you never did yourself serious injury.
You finally got the answers you'd craved out on a case about a month into your struggles.
There was something slightly unsettling about the way the female Sheriff was paying attention to Doctor Reid, and it made you uncomfortable. Your mouth ran dry when she touched his arm, but a small part of you warmed up again when he shrugged her off. Until, at least, you heard him explain why.
“I'm sorry, I'm a germophobe, so I'd really prefer you not touch me.” His voice was calm and steady; it really didn't seem like he was lying.
“You're not pulling my leg? I'm sorry if I came on too strong, but-”
“Why would I pull your leg, I said I don't like physical touch?”
“Well, there was that young girl earlier, Y/N was it? You had your hand on her back as you walked in, so I didn't think…”
The woman had made a good point, and you crept closer to the edge of the door to hear Doctor Reid - Spencer's response.
“Sheriff, if we're done here, do you think I could get back to my job?” You were almost disappointed in the change of topic, but you weren't all that sad to see the Sheriff remove herself from the room. Slipping in behind her you decided to test the new theory that had slipped into your mind in the last minutes.
You called out to him to grab his attention as you walked into the room but before he had the chance to turn and greet you, you threw your arms around his shoulders and pressed your body down against his, enveloping him in a back hug.
It was quite possibly the most familiar position you'd been in with him, but really it wasn't all that different from your usual proximity.
Unlike when the Sheriff casually brushed against him, he didn't stiffen, didn't pull away, but instead melted into your touch, looking up at you with a large grin.
You stood shocked for a minute before grinning back.
“Spencer, I think I know why everyone has been watching us for the last few weeks.” You said, causing his eyes to panic slightly as he acknowledged your words.
“The, uh, the Sheriff was just in here talking about a development either some of the DNA test results-” He desperately tried to change the subject, but you were locked in now, spinning his chair around to face you more as you came eye-to-eye with him.
“I know why the Sheriff was in here, Spencer, I heard it all.”
“It's not what you think,” you paused for a moment as your brow furrowed, trying to figure out if you'd somehow caught the wrong end of the stick.
“So our coworkers haven't been waiting for you to ask me out, having noticed large changes in your body language and attitude around me?”
“It's….exactly as you think.” His face was flushed with pink and your heart skipped a beat at the man in front of you. But you still had some questions.
“And you knew, but you didn't say anything to me despite the fact that I bought it up multiple times?”
“I'm…I'm not good with words," he frowned
“Are you good with dates?”
“Excuse me?”
“You're going to take me on a date when we get back to Quantico. After giving it some thought, Doctor Reid, it seems I've become quite enamoured of you.” You dropped into his lap then, sitting there like a cat pleased to take up residence on its owners legs. He stuttered for a few seconds but then found his voice again, face lighting up.
“Spencer. Please, Y/N, call me Spencer.”
5K notes · View notes
kenjakusbraincum · 5 months
Note
can you pls write something about reader being sick and like not the cough and cold kind of sick- like really really sick, and sukuna realising how much he doesn't want to lose her to this sickness and how if she dies, he'll be alone again..🥺
You have NO idea how much I love this idea!!! I did go a bit overboard with it cause I love suffering though 👍 Still, this was SO much fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Vows
Sukuna x Reader
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Word count: 4.5k
Tags/warnings: gn! reader, true form! sukuna, master/pet dynamic, fluff but most importantly ANGST, mentions of weight loss, mentions of violence, implied nsfw, reader dies in the end :( (sorry)
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It's not the first time Sukuna has been made aware of your mortality. He recalls many instances when he's been reminded that you are human. Finite. The first time he wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed with calculation while you were laying under him, and you looked up at him in fear for your life. Your little hand couldn't even wrap around his wrist, much less provide resistance. Or when he'd pull your hair a little too roughly, and hear a crack in your delicate spine. When you'd get sick, and humbly refuse his healing. So little as a tummy ache had you writhing on your bed.
You are so weak, so small, clinging to life like there was anything for you in it, beyond Sukuna. By all means he hates all of these things. So what witchery is this, and why does he care about you so much? Why does he keep you for years, and why does your company bring him comfort he hasn't ever known in his lifetime?
Still, as much as he cares, he doesn't notice when it starts. He's trained you to tolerate pain, after all. It's no wonder you hesitate to tell him. Little things like tummyaches and colds occur to you all the time anyways, and you never complain. Sure, you've grown closer to Sukuna, but he was still your master, and the rules he instilled in you from the start were always fresh in your mind, not to be crossed. Bothering him with everything that feels off always seemed inappropriate.
And Sukuna is just like that. If you're not screaming or crying, he won't know you're in pain. But he notices that you're acting off. And how he reacts really doesn't help your case, or encourage you to speak up about your condition. ''I don't have all day. What is wrong with you?'', he sneers when he catches you pacing too far behind him.
So you just sleep longer and preserve energy for when you are with him. You don't skip around as much anymore, or spend time doing your hobbies. Food doesn't taste so great anymore. You have a cough that gives you sleepless nights because it just won't calm down. And the time you owe Sukuna starts to feel like an obligation. You start to dread it. Dread slipping up, dread annoying him or failing to satisfy him. Dread being disposable.
When things start getting worse, it's hard to hide it even from him. He was taking you from behind one night, and you were grateful he couldn't see the look on your face. You thought you could do it. Sukuna was always demanding, but he would never force you to do anything. If only you told him before you felt yourself struggling for air, and your chest closing in on itself in tightness. You reached one hand back, frantically grabbing his wrist.
''Feathers, feathers!'', words came out as gasps, and you slumped forward when he let you go. You were panicked and crying by then, this kind of discomfort being foreign even to you, even after weeks of pain behind you. He hovered next to you with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't even being that rough.
''What's wrong? Tell me.'', he said, and reached his hand to feel the warmth of your tears streaming down your face. He swiped your cheek gently. He didn't seem mad at all. Why didn't you say anything from the start?
''I just feel so sick.'', you muster up in between sobs, and shut your eyes. You were too embarrassed to even look at him.
''I see.''. His hand leaves your face, and he traces it from your neck down your spine. The pain subsided slowly, allowing you to relax and find comfort in his arms.
But the effects of his healing were short lived. Just a week later the feeling of fatigue creeps back into your life. Manageable, but lingering. And the cough persists. And it gets on Sukuna's nerves too. He's been quite patient with you, but his patience was reaching it's limit.
You're sitting by his throne as you often do, and as hard as you try to hold the cough in, you just can't help it. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, turning you to him. And he looks at you with all four, terrifying eyes. ''Can you shut up?''
''I'm sorry, I'm trying -'', you stutter, but just end up coughing more. He doesn't wait for you to stop.
''Get out of here.'', and pushes you away. You stumble down the pile of bones and fall, landing on your hands and knees. You don't remember him being this cruel to you in a long time. You look back at him with teary eyes, and he looks back like the merciless monster he is. The villagers awaiting him moved to make space for your fall, taking note of the tense situation.
That day, Sukuna sends word that he doesn't want to see you until you get better. You're forbidden from going outside again, in fear that that is making your 'cold' worse. It's a lonely week in your room, until Sukuna starts to crave you again. It didn't take him a while, counting the couple days he spent convincing himself he doesn't miss you. He does. So when he sends word for you again, and the servants come back to him saying you're still not feeling well... he's worried. So worried he comes to see it for himself.
Sukuna rarely comes to your room. It's the only space you have for yourself, and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Your room is modest. You have a bed, a carpet, and a couple shelves to house the books he's gifted you. There's a desk where you can eat and read, and a doorway to the garden. There's an empty glass of water and a napkin next to your bed. You're still sleeping, but the door shutting behind him wakes you up, so he doesn't get to enjoy observing you in your natural habitat for long.
It's not the first time doors opening and closing woke you up. But you know this time is different. The servants are always quickly shuffling around the room, cleaning up and moving around. Uraume clanks with plates. There is no noise now, other than your strained breathing and a cough brewing in the back of your throat. Besides, the aura that Sukuna brings with him everywhere he goes is recognizable. Especially to you. Heavy.
You turn around, and meet the gaze of his four eyes. ''Master...'', you struggle to sit up, and even a little action like that has spots forming in your vision. Then a coughing fit hits you. You pick up the napkin and put it to your mouth.
Sukuna sees your whole body strain with the effort of coughing. And when you call him master, even your voice sounds different. He knows your morning voice. He missed hearing it, but this... this is not it. You sit with your head hung low, staring at the napkin between your hands. There's a fresh splatter of blood on it. But Sukuna scares you more than the progression of your illness.
''Are you mad at me?'', you ask timidly, meeting his gaze.
''I'm concerned.", he says and sits next to you. You curl up to make space for him. "Two weeks is a long time for a frail human like you to be sick.", he looks at you, scanning your form up and down.
"I rested and drank every tea Uraume told me to!", your defense mechanism kicks in, and you start babbling.
Sukuna dismisses you with a hand and a pained facial expression. "I know.", he says. His brows are furrowed now, and he's looking at the ground, lost in thought.
You feel guilty for annoying him again. You feel guilty for the whole thing, getting sick, draining the energy it takes him to heal you, robbing him of the time with you that he deserves. Owns. He is very generous with the way he treats you, having all that in mind.
You tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Master... You deserve better.", and you're sobbing again. Sukuna gives you a pathetic look, but smiles as he pulls you into his embrace.
"Silly pet. I can survive a couple weeks without your assistance.", he says, rubbing your shoulder.
You run your fingers against the back of his hand mindlessly, not knowing how to respond. Caressing his knuckles, bones, veins... feeling his nails and their sharp tips against your sensitive skin. When you bring his palm up to your lips, your kiss stains it red with blood.
-
You still sleep with Sukuna sometimes. Less frequently, only on days when you feel well enough, and those are rare. You've lost weight by now, sickness making itself visible on your body. You're sitting on his lap and clinging to your robes, scared that he won't like you as much, that you won't live up to his standards. But Sukuna's demeanor about your illness has changed, as he seemed to sense something unusual about it. He flips you over so gently, like you're made of glass, and peppers kisses from your neck downwards, slowly undressing you as much as you allow him. When he takes you, he's so careful. Constantly checking you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. You feel so loved and relaxed, and pleasure comes so easy when you're in this state. It's not the first time Sukuna is this caring with you in bed, but this time is different. This time you can't help but feel like he's saying goodbye.
He holds you afterwards, tracing his fingers over the ridges of your spine and your shoulders. You were always little in his grasp, but now that he feels your protruding bones under his fingertips, you seem all the more vulnerable.
"Will you kill me?", you ask, breaking the silence.
Sukuna frowns. "Nonsense. Why would I do that?"
There's a gulp in your throat. "It won't be long before I can't even do this. I won't be of any use to you then...", you say.
"Stop.", he says sternly. "There's a lot more to you than what you provide me with in bed."
You smile to yourself, but there's still a hole in your chest. Your statement is still true, and you aren't comforted. But this is Sukuna, and you know that he's offered you quite a lot even with that little bit of reassurance. To your surprise, he speaks again.
"Don't upset yourself. It's been a long time since killing you crossed my mind.", he says. "Save the energy for something else."
You nod and thank him. Just moments later, you're asleep. Quicker than ever before, he notes. You usually love it when he lets you cuddle and talk to him. You would force your eyes open when you were sleepy, just to enjoy it longer.
He feels guilty. He's your master, he's responsible for your well being. Yet nothing he does seems to help you long term. Healing you is temporary and he knows that without accessing the source, it will never work. If he could, he would find what was making you sick and rip it out of you with his bare hands, crush it with the force of his palm. He would have to look deeper, open you, and for once, he thinks he can't open a human being. He thinks of you trashing, screaming, and worst of all, looking into his eyes. Just the thought of you like that makes his chest feel like a gaping cavity. Worst of all, he's sure you would let him. He's sure you would forgive him for spilling your blood, and find comfort in his arms again. If you survived, that is. What has he done to you? And to himself?
Now, your head rests on his chest, and you're snoring lightly. For once, a repetitive noise like that doesn't annoy him. For once, he wishes he could listen to it every night. One day, that noise will be the only thing audibly confirming you're still alive.
-
Months pass and you're only getting worse. You barely leave your room now, too weak to even do so. You eat little, and it's showing in your sunken cheeks and eyes. You feel yourself withering away, loosing color, drying like a dying flower. Sukuna is in grief. He struggles to look at you, and visiting you falls heavy on him every time. He always finds himself thinking afterwards. Regretting that he let himself get this attached, wishing that he could simply forget you. But it doesn't work that way.
He goes to see you, after avoiding you for a week. He's Sukuna, he doesn't have any shame. You're sleeping, like you usually are when he comes to visit you. Your snoring is laboured, and it sounds painful. This time, the doors and the silence don't wake you up. He watches you, curled up under a stack of blankets, rising and falling with your struggles to breathe. How foolish he was, to think forgetting you would be as easy as avoiding you for days. How evil he was, trying to forget you while you are still alive under his wing, still his responsibility. Still his.
He sits next to you and leans over you, fingertips ghosting over your face. The snoring stops and you flutter your eyes open, turning in bed and feeling his body next to yours. You smirk at him, eyes adjusting to the light, and smile when you recognize him. ''Master.'', your arms wrap around his neck as you welcome him, your voice dry, but lively as you beckon him closer. ''I missed you.''.
He comes down to plant a kiss to your forehead. ''I missed you too, darling.''. Oh, the things that escape his mouth when he's alone with you. He cups your face, enjoying how much healthier you look with a smile on your face. ''Feeling any better?'', he rubs your cheek, lingering closely above your face.
You nod, but both of you know you only feel better because you saw him. Still, the little surge of happiness that brings you gives you more energy than you've had the whole week. You wiggle to the edge of the bed, making space and inviting him to join you. Sukuna lies down, hooking one arm underneath your neck and pulling you flush against him.
You wrap your arm around him and lean your head against his shoulder. He's still as big as you remember him, unfaltering in the face of your illness. It's comforting. ''You didn't visit in a while. Were you busy?'', you ask, stroking his back. ''How were your days?''
''Monotone.'', he says. ''The villagers bring remedies for you every day, and wish for you to get well.'' It's no wonder. So many times, Sukuna found himself hesitating to kill just because you were sitting on his knee, dressed in something too pretty to be splattered with blood. In the local villages, word spread that you have ''domesticated'' Sukuna. As if such a thing was possible. Or was it?
''Oh?'', you smile. ''I didn't think they would notice my absence.''. You always were supposed to be Sukuna's accessory and nothing more. Remedies and good wishes make it sound like you're more important than just a pet. So it really is that obvious...
''They did.'', he says, and lowers his head, brushing his nose against your face. ''Some took that as an opportunity to gift me new pets.''
You blink at him, a bit taken aback by his honesty. You keep smiling anyways. ''Did you take any?'', you ask, and he sees nothing but genuine curiosity in your eyes. The truth is, you've had a lot of time to think about your place in Sukuna's mansion. You knew, especially in sickness, that you were never entitled to exclusivity with him. You knew that at some point you would have to be replaced, just by the virtue of being a mortal. A human, who would age and become ugly, wrinkled and useless. You were just unlucky enough to meet this fate sooner than you should've.
Sukuna sighs, the weight of the conversation shifting to him. ''Not to bed, no.'', he says.
You're quiet while you think of what to say. You still have a habit of picking words when you're with Sukuna, but the times when he would punish you for improper formulation are far behind you. "Why not?", you settle. You hope the implication is there, that you wouldn't be so mad even if he did.
Why not? Because he thinks it might break him. Because the image of someone else in your place, under him, feels unnatural and wrong. He thinks the guilt might eat him alive. For once in centuries, someone else's needs come before Sukuna's. He is gone, so far gone. You've raised his standards, and he's not sure anyone he takes now will be able to live up to them. Besides, training a new pet to fit your mold would take years, and even then... He couldn't train someone to love him. Not like you do.
''I wouldn't want you to hold back because of me.'', you say, and he realizes he's been quiet for too long. Years ago, if you dared to imply that Sukuna would do such a thing as hold back because of you, that he cared, you would've been minced meat ready for dinner. Now, he looks down at you tenderly when you say it. Well, a tender look from Sukuna is a docile one. You've gotten used to the way that Sukuna communicates love. Subtly, innocuously.
''Worry about getting well, pet.'', he shuts down the conversation, and moves away from you, sitting back on the bed. ''Any wishes? Food? Activities?'', he asks, and feels your forehead with the back of his hand.
Food? No, but... ''I'd like you to stay, please.'', you say, and take his hand with the two of yours, feeling it up with your thumbs.
Sukuna resists the urge to roll his eyes, knowing the thought of annoying him would upset you greatly. ''That's a given. Anything else?''
You pretend to think, then just babble your favorite food. Sukuna takes your order to Uraume. But when he comes back, you're already asleep again. He waits by your side, but you don't wake, so eventually he leaves. By the evening, the plate of your favorite food remains untouched.
-
You can't leave the bed on your own anymore. Sukuna carries you outside when you're feeling good enough. You barely have the strength to latch onto him securely. Still, it's hard to slip out of the grasp of his four arms. He says you've gotten pale. You lay in his lap and bask in the sun, while he tells you about his day or reads a book out loud for you to enjoy. You wish you could talk to him more, but your voice leaves you as days of endless coughing wreck your throat. No herbs and teas ease your condition anymore. You wait for your final day.
And Sukuna doesn't know when he's given up on the idea that you might get better. But he starts spending whole days with you, leaving your side only to sleep in his bed. He tends to almost all your needs personally. You think that if you asked him to get on his knees for you, he would. He is not familiar with this ache that brews in his chest when he looks to his side and doesn't see you there. It feels violating. To be as powerful as he is, and yet completely helpless in the face of the sickness that drains you in front of his very eyes.
He plays with your thinning hair one morning, and you look at him from his lap, as adoringly as always. ''Isn't it funny?.'', you say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you. ''I always imagined dying by your hand.'', you kiss his hand again, planting your dry, blue lips against his knuckles. ''Who would have thought?''.
You, you little human. You made him feel like a fool, like a coward. You made him feel powerless. Who could ever get away unscathed with making Sukuna feel like this? The thought of killing you now, even out of mercy, fills him with horror. He thinks he couldn't live carrying the burden of your death on his back. It's already hard for him as is.
When he's not with you, he withers away in his room, waiting. And when the servants finally come, and tell him you're at your last strengths, he feels as tense as he feels relieved. The servants shake in fear of his reaction, and he simply dismisses them. In a thousand years of his existence, he doesn't remember having to prepare to enter a room. His hand trembles as he brings it up to push the door open. He dreads what awaits him inside.
He expected blood, hysteria, chaos, yet there's none of it when he walks in. Just the pained noises of your breathing. A servant, your favorite, sits by your side and wipes sweat off your forehead. She talks to you in a comforting tone and pats your head gently. When he walks in the room, she lowers her head and moves to leave. It's only a second, but he sees the sad look on your face. ''Stay.'', he orders, and the servant bows and thanks him.
You move your attention to him, raising your hand to greet him weakly. He picks it up and bends down to kiss it. There's tears in your eyes as he settles into a seat next to you, and you open your mouth in an attempt to say something.
''Easy now.'', he shushes you, and helps you into his lap. You lean back, looking at him through a blur. His features appear even more doubled through the tears, and you still find his beauty mesmerizing. Your master. Your own little god and protector. Although he regrets it, you've never claimed the title of his spouse. Yet, he still stuck by your side, until parted by death. In sickness and in health.
He wipes your tears, and the mouth he conjures onto his hand kisses your forehead. One set of his hands caresses your face, the other massages the tension out of your bony shoulders. Sukuna knows how important it is for you to pass in peace. He doesn't want to curse you, or have despair turn you into a curse. "Relax now.", his voice is so soothing, as if lulling you to sleep. "It won't be long". You weep. What did an ordinary human like you do to deserve this honor? To be comforted on their death bed by a god. To be guided to death by him.
"Master.", you sob. "I'm so scared..."
Delicate touch against your skin. Sharp nails grazing your cheek ever so slightly, just barely enough to make their presence known. "Have no fear.", Sukuna looms over you like a snowdrop. "Where you go now, pain won't follow.". You speak to him a little longer. Tell him all the things you always wanted to tell him, but were scared of the consequences. Dangerous words, ones that were rarely associated with Sukuna. Love. And Sukuna is attentive, so human. Your blinking slows and you find comfort in his voice, as he returns every loving word back to you. Your pained breathing follows, and your eyelids are so heavy. But the sight of him is so hypnotizing, you wish you never had to look away. "You are so brave, my little dove. Go now, be free.". You were too good for this wretched palace anyways. The sight of him is etched in your memory as you close your eyes. "It was a pleasure to have you by my side.", you listen, feeling control over your body slip through your fingers. When you can't move, or feel his touch, you still hear his calm voice. "When you're ready, come back to me. I'll be waiting for your return.". Then everything is quiet, for you and for him. The servants cries are muffled by the sheets, where she has her head pressed by your side.
The hallways, silent except for the busy tapping of feet. Outside, the wind blows petals off of blooming flowers, leaving them bare and stranded. Autumn is here to carry you away.
Servants hold their breath when Sukuna walks by. One wrong look at him and the walls would be painted red. Just like before. Before you. And it's not long before Sukuna looks like a monster again - red eyes and a permanent frown etched on his face. Villagers bring bouquets, and lay them to the right of his throne, where you used to sit. He stares them all down, and only for a moment thinks that maybe, humans are not the scum he thought they were. But then he remembers, they only mourn you because you held him back from his destructive tendencies. Scum.
And he kills again. The first is a villager from afar, where news of your passing hasn't reached. Ripped to shreds for mentioning you. The women who screamed, their blood soaks the carpets and seeps through the wooden floor, dripping down to the cellars. He feels like himself again, unhinged, unbeatable.
Until the day is over, and he goes back to his empty room. His cold, empty bed, and the old habit of reaching for you in his sleep, only to grab nothing instead. And the crocheted figures of the two of you on his nightstand, watching him as he struggles to sleep alone. He can't bear it. So he leaves, and doesn't come back for days, weeks, months.
Smoke clouds the skies on the horizon once again, after years and years of peace and clarity. As far as the eye stretches, the world will know of Sukuna's wrath. But as thrilling as it feels to conquer again, when the village is burned and ash covers the grass on the ground, the thought of you still lingers. Your devastated eyes the first time he's killed before you. The first time he's felt guilty about his monstrous nature. When he comes back, no one's warm embrace awaits him. No one's there to brighten up his day. No amount of blood shed and villages burned replace the emptiness you left behind in his heart.
The grief settles, and sits heavy in Sukuna's chest, as he assumes position in his lonely throne again, and gazes at the row of people waiting to beg, talk, offer... bore him. Another eternity of boredom. An eternity of picking through thousands of humans, in vain hopes of finding you again. In vain hopes of recognizing you, even if it's lifetimes from now, when the last memory of your face has already faded from his mind. When generations change, and the thought of a monster like Sukuna being capable of tenderness vanishes. When the fire in his chest, ignited by love, is already a memory so distant, that recalling it feels surreal.
Maybe he will forget you by then. Maybe times will harden him again, and the idea of a pet becoming his lover will make him laugh. But for now, the thought of finding you in a crowd, taking you in his arms and never letting go, is his comfort and safe place. For now, he will wait for you. As long as it takes, like a stone, unyielding against the passing of time.
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yeah but. pizza dates with d.ante.
#ash and him don't often meet in the human world#usually ash is just the cool demon hunter he meets while fighting sometimes who hits on him a little bit before kicking ass by his side#(i also must add that all their flirting is purely for jokes- they will never be anything more than best buds)#(... also because i'm a sucker for d.ante x k.at but you didnt hear that from me-)#anyways yeah#just ash showing up to his trailer one day#'hey asshole! open the fuckin' door!'#he opens the door shirtless as always and yawning#'oh.. it's you... ASH?! why are you here?'#'im tired from work and needed somewhere to chill. that's all.'#(the funny thing about this s/i is that she works a really normal office job in the real world- she just fights demons and is the way that#she is just for fun and to destress. she actually has her life together! but then you meet her in the other world and she's really um.#quite the character-)#anyways d.ante sees that she's holding a box of pizza and lets her in. they sit on his bed and eat the pizza together#it's a dirty ass place and it smells like shit too but. ash doesn't mind. she loves calling d.ante an idiot (and he is!) but they're still#best buds! i love their relationship a lot#ofc it's d.ante so he probably cracks open a drink or something. but. you know how there's that fucked up soda in this game?#yeah i haven't mentioned it much here but ash LOVES that shit#like it's honestly concerning how much she drinks- it's used to manipulate humans but.. you know... she's immune to it- so she just chugs#away for flavor! she's almost always holding a can#one of her combat finishers is actually her throwing an empty can at a demon 💀💀#and even when d.ante sees her in her work clothes she has one of those coffee cups in her hand. it is not coffee in that cup-#anyways where was i#oh right#bonus points if ash spends the night by his side!#('aw youre really that eager to get a piece of me? im honored' 'in your dreams. i'm just sleepy.')#best buddies nap together <3#anyways yeah. he's a pretty cool dude. love that guy /p <3#ash rambles 💚#(gestures towards the gifsets) can you tell that i've had him on the mind?
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rslashrats · 2 months
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🪰 housefly734 Follow
just a reminder that flies rubbing their hands together =/= plotting a nasty scheme
🪰 r0tt1ngm3at Follow
FINALLY SOMEONE SAID IT!! I HATE THE STEREOTYPE THAT US RUBBING OUR HANDS TOGETHER MEANS WE ARE PLANNING SOMETHING DUBIOUS!!
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
^^ Boosting! I constantly get non-flies giving me death glares whenever I wash my hands in the restroom. Like, that's what you're supposed to do after going to the bathroom! Sorry for being hygienic I guess 🙄
🪰 diptera-doll Follow
Reasons why flies might be rubbing their hands together:
It's chilly out and they're trying to warm up
They just put hand sanitizer/lotion/hand cream on
They're rolling a ball of clay together
What you should do if you see a fly rubbing their hands together:
Leave them alone! It's none of your business
Hope this helped! :)
🪰 flyhlghh Follow
people also forget that hand-rubbing is a very common stim!! neurodivergent flies constantly get stigmatized for showing any traits of their neurodivergencies in public!! please don't forget that!!
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
I dont know about you losers but i like to rub my hands together because i am planning the most heinous and villanous crimes in my head
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Wow, most obvious troll I have ever seen in my life. Get a life, dude 🙄
🪰 compoundeyehaver Follow
> claims to be a real fly
> has bee as their profile pic
dude couldn even get the right insect for their shitty troll account LMFAOOOOO
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
No i am real fly and i am plotting to land on someones pie rn and ruin it with all my real fly germs. rubbing my hands together as i do it too
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Anyone wanna bet this guy is some amphibian from 4frog typing this nonsense from their lilypad right now? Just me? Okay-
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
I am buzzing around people's ears now
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Yep, that pretty much confirms my theory. The nerve of some non-flies, I swear 🙄
🪰 batsianmimc Follow
@venus-fly-trap-hater
🪰 venus-fly-trap-hater Follow
this post is so real!! tysm babe for sending it to me 💞 ilyy
🪰 batsianmimc Follow
ILY too sugar cube 😘
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
Can you guys stop kissing on this post its ruining my evil scheme planning
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Can't believe this guy is still at it, honestly. @staff @tumblr Please take action against fake fly troll accounts such as these ones!
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
Staff cant kill me i rubbed my hands on them too hard and they dieded sorry
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
🤣🤣🤣 Oh the excuses this fake is making, LOL! I haven't been this entertained since the Bombylius major discourse last year!
🪰 compoundeyehaver Follow
why are you still arguing with the troll instead of just blocking
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Just think it's entertaining to see the lack of logic that bounces around in the brains of these non-flies sometimes 🤷‍♀️ Every response this so called "I am a real fly, trust me" user has given me has just made me crack up and flap my wings together.
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
I am gonna rub my hands and plan more evil schemes involving you next
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Heh, just try it, kid. Go on, I'll wait. 🥱
🦗 chirpingboy Follow
things are getting heated in the fly community
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Of course a Grasshopper has the nerve to comment something insensitive on this post. Honestly, just mind your business 🙄
🦗 chirpingboy Follow
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okayy
🦗 hopping-along-the-bank Follow
Hey, you can't really preach for not discriminating against flies and then discriminate against a grasshopper, dude. Not cool.
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
I think I certainty can, with my past experiences of Grasshoppers always finding the ways to say the most uneducated and baseless takes on my previous posts and discussions. Plus, after the Fly-Grasshopper War of 247 BC (in which my ancestors fought in, mind you) and the consequences that followed it, I think I am well within my rights. But go ahead, frame me as the bad guy here. 🤣
🦗 hopping-along-the-bank Follow
Yeah, you say this and conveniently ignore the socio-economic struggles that grasshoppers have been facing for the past century, many of these issues which were spearheaded by fly conservative politicians in office at the time.
So, yeah, it is rather hypocritical for you to pull out these cards when grasshoppers have also been punished and gotten the short end of the stick throughout bug history.
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
The implication that all flies are responsible for a few greedy politicians is quite comical, really. 🥱 Not to mention that many Grasshopper politicians in Bugland and Bugtopia have also had histories of introducing laws that have severely affected communities majorly made up of Flies. But sure, keep arguing with me about this, buddy. I got all day 🤣
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
I am still rubbing my hands and planing schemes btw
🪰 flythatlovestogethigh Follow
anyone smoke bug weed in this thread
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Breaking Fingers - OP81
Summary: Oscar's girlfriend has the nasty habit of cracking her knuckles which is bad enough. But then she finds his hands.
No part 2 requests please
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The bone crunching noise always makes Oscar grimace, he hates it.
"Y/n, please. Your poor hands." Oscar tries as he drives into the carpark.
"My hands are fine. Actually they feel so much better for it." Y/n smiles then sighing softly as she looks at him for a moment. "You know I don't do it to annoy you."
'I know but...your poor hands." Oscar repeats while she smiles at him brightly.
Thankfully y/n can only crack them once then she has to wait, so once they're parked up and out the car. Oscar gets some respite from her bone cracking habit.
Y/n divides from him letting him get on with everything he needs to focus on but he consistently returns to y/n and seems to find himself in the window of her knuckles being ready to be cracked because he's greeted by the spine chilling noise that always makes him grimace.
"Stop making that face. So judgy." Y/n laughs before she jumps up to her feet and links her hands behind his head with a grin. "I love you..."
"I love you too." Oscar hums before closing the space between them for a quick peck on the lips then moving his hands that are on her waist and using them to poke into her sides, watching her grit her teeth and try to move away to avoiding him tickling her.
"Going to start cracking my neck to freak you out next." Y/n comments making Oscar pull a completely disgusted face.
"No. Don't do that." Oscar grimaces watching her grin at him.
-
A brief break and a moment of sitting with y/n, Oscar is talking to Lando while y/n plays with his hand absently. Not uncommon, but what he never expected it to feel her bend his finger like she does with her own and his knuckle to pop.
"Ah, y/n. Why?" Oscar gasps yanking his hand back while Lando is triggered into laughter purely from the reaction.
"Baby, that was the loudest knuckle crack-please let me do the rest." Y/n pouts batting her eyelashes and reaching for his hand. "It didn't hurt. I know it didn't."
"I believe her." Lando pipes up earning a glare.
"No. That did hurt. I don't break my fingers hourly." Oscar winces while checking his hands as if she's genuinely just broke his fingers. Y/n only continues to point for a moment earning a slightly glare before Oscar allows her to take his hand back, feeling instant regret when she flashes a toothy grin. "You are sadistic, torturing my poor hands. I use this for driving you know."
"You use them for a lot of things." Y/n comments earning more laughter from Lando that he definitely chokes on slightly while Oscar feels his face heat up a little.
Y/n cracks each finger and with some more readiness for the feeling, it doesn't hurt quite as much. But he still hates the feeling and hates the noise.
"You're never doing that again." Oscar states earning a pout but she nods in agreement.
Lando takes off at some point and y/n ends up lying her head in Oscar's lap while talking about something and somehow slyly getting hold of his other hand where she proceeds to crack his fingers on that hand too while he sort of just grits his teeth and takes it.
She follows up by cracking her own knuckles then groaning and stretching till the sound of her spine popping and cracking rips through the room.
"Y/n, that was your back." Oscar grimaces while she relaxes down against him with a lazy smile. "Your joints are fucked when we're old. I'm going to have to wheel you places. Probably feed you because you can't use your hands too."
"That sounds romantic." Y/n jokes earning a deadpanned expression. "I'm sorry. I know you don't like it."
-
Oscar knows he should've really stopped y/n but after that first time he found her holding his hands and cracking his knuckles more and more. Annoyingly, she was right about it feeling nicer the more he allows her to do it.
His trainer isn't all that impressed but hasn't really said he's doing anything to cause permanent damage.
Right now they're just in Oscar's apartment, in a weekend off from racing and Oscar is sort of enjoying the relaxing away from crowds of people and the rush of a race weekend.
"I don't think you hate this as much as you claim you do anymore." Y/n smiles lightly earning a look from her boyfriend as she fiddles with his fingers, having already popped the knuckles. "I'm just saying."
Oscar doesn't comment, instead just moving his free hand up to play with her hair.
"If it stops you from cracking your own knuckles so much I guess I can live with it." Oscar states earning a grin before she suddenly move and sits up straddling over him. "Oh no what have I said?"
"You just show your love in weird ways but I...love you even more for it. Like letting me crack your knuckles even though you hate it just so I cut back on cracking my own knuckles." Y/n smiles then cupping his face and kissing every spot she can possibly place her lips on his skin. "For the record, I love you hands."
"I think I can say with confidence that I know that. Thanks for letting Lando know too by the way." Oscar hums moving his own hands down to rub her thighs, pushing the t-shirt she's been wearing a little further up.
"In my defence, I didn't actually expect him to hear me." Y/n murmurs making him smile at her since her tone gives away she might've actually been embarrassed by that. "Anyway...I love you."
"I love you too. Even if I have to spoon feed you because you can't hold utensils when we're old." Oscar smiles then pausing. "I'll have to find away around the fan you'll have made my hands just as bad as yours by cracking my knuckles too...we might have an issue."
"It's alright, by then robots will do everything for us. I bet they'll even be robots that crack our knuckles."
"No." Oscar states quickly making her laugh. "I'd only trust you with it."
"Aww...soft shite." Y/n laughs then leaning down into a slightly longer and heavier kiss which Oscar definitely can't help but smile into before he suddenly pushes her to the side and has her pinned to the sofa. "Alright, alright! Not a soft shite."
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03
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osaemu · 8 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ MEET ME IN THE AFTERGLOW ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ post-sukuna fight: no victory comes without a loss, and his win came at the cost of his eyesight
contents: fem!reader. some combination of hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff.
author's note: inspired by levi at the end of aot ꨄ︎
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7:58 PM
satoru gojo had always had the best eyes. sorcerer, curse, human – you could search the whole world, and nobody else would even come close.
but the aftermath of satoru's fight with sukuna changed everything. after a long, painful battle, satoru came out on top, but at a great cost. his eyes.
dying wishes are powerful, especially from a curse as strong as sukuna. right before the king of curses was done for, he pooled everything he had left into a final attack to ensure that satoru gojo would never be the same. he succeeded.
now, almost a week after the fight, long after the dust settled and peace had reclaimed the jujutsu society, satoru still insists on wearing his blindfold around the clock.
no matter what you try or how you ask, he stubbornly refuses let you see underneath. actually, it'd be more accurate to say that he doesn't respond at all. after all, to your dismay, he's a master at avoiding questions and delaying answers.
you weren't even sure if there was any change to how he looked. maybe he looked the exact same underneath. maybe he had a couple scars. fuck, for all you knew he didn't even have eyes at all anymore.
you just wish he would let you see the new him. he doesn't even have it that bad – thanks to six-eyes, he can still see the silhouettes of cursed energy. and he wore a blindfold most days anyway, so it wasn't too much of a change.
which is why you weren't sure why he wouldn't just take the damn blindfold off.
"satoru, please let me see," you beg, tugging at his shirt sleeve. "i miss your pretty face. and honestly, who wears a blindfold to bed?"
he laughs at your incredulous question, but it sounds forced and unnatural. satoru tugs his arm away and waves you off. "let me take a shower, 'kay? i just got out of work, and i'm probably covered in germs."
you hate this new satoru – the one who won't let you get too close or even see his face anymore. he just won't open up to you, and it's frustrating. "satoru, please? let me in."
at the sound of your pleading voice, satoru rests one hand on the bathroom door and sighs before turning around to face you. he's smiling, but it seems so off – like all his smiles do nowadays.
"you try'n to watch me shower, sweetheart?" he cracks, running a hand through his hair. "i know you love seeing me naked, but-"
"satoru." 
"get off my dick," he grumbles lightly, before strolling into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. maybe you imagine it, but you could swear that you hear the soft click of a lock turning.
10:34 PM
"good night, sweetheart," satoru mumbles, pressing his lips to your shoulder and rolling over onto his side. he still has his blindfold on, and the almost undetectable glow eminating from his skin shows that he has a very subtle form of limitless active.
it's been like this every night.
"satoru, can we talk?" you whisper, trailing a hand through his damp white hair. "please?"
"is it about the blindfold?"
"obviously."
he sighs and rolls over again to face you, the soft glow fading from his skin. "give it a rest, yeah?" he says, exasperated. "i'm not ready for anyone to see."
"satoru, even you don't know what your eyes look like under the blindfold," you murmur. "and do you really trust me that little?"
he lifts one of his hands and rests it on your shoulder, thumb tracing circles as he leans in and says "of course i trust you."
you shake your head and sit up, pressing your back against the headboard. "no, you don't."
"then why'd you as-"
"why do you sleep with limitless on now?" you interject, crossing your arms. "what happened to 'i never have limitless on around you'?" you whisper, quoting something he told you when you two first starting dating. back when he could look you in the eye.
satoru sighs again and sits up alongside you. "you know why."
"you seriously think i'd do that?"
"i..." he trails off, slipping a finger underneath his blindfold to rub one of his eyes. "i don't know. all i know is that i'm not ready for anyone to see me like... this." 
"satoru, you can't keep running away from everyone forever," you say, shaking your head again. "you-"
"i know, i know," he mutters. "it's not that simple."
he's stubborn – he always has been. and you're mostly used to it, which is why you know that the best way to get satoru to change his mind on something is to ease him into it instead of pushing and shoving.
so you switch gears, and instead of arguing more you reach out and take his hand. "what are you afraid of?"
"nothing. i'm the strongest," satoru replies automatically. the response sounds so automated, so pre-written that you can't help but smile. 
"okay," you say neutrally, trying to reword your question. "why don't you want to show me what your eyes look like? you've haven't even seen them yourself."
satoru smiles sourly and his hands curl into white-knuckled fists around the bedsheets. "and i never will. i'm blind now, remember, sweetheart?" his words are laced with bitterness, even (and especially) in the final word. 
but it wasn't you who satoru was resentful towards. it was himself. 
how could he have so foolishly let down his guard before sukuna was confirmed to be dead? how could he let his characteristic arrogance get the better of him? he made the same mistake when he was a teen, and now he's done it again as the strongest – although this event may have stripped him of his title.
a mixture of emotions crosses what little you can see of his face, and it's now more than ever that you wish you could be there for him. 
but he's the only one alive who knows what it's like to be the strongest.
so as much as you wish you could tell him that everything's going to be okay and that he'll always be the strongest, you know damn well that you don't know and that he might not be.
somehow, this conversation has evolved from your desire to see his face to something more.
a silent, mutual understanding passes between you and satoru, and the thickness in the air slowly dissolves. 
"sorry," you breathe. "i was being selfish, wasn't i?"
satoru shakes his head, a smile growing on his face. "nah, you're right. i don't even know what i look like."
he lifts a hand and slips his thumb underneath his blindfold, and after a brief moment of hesitation, slides it off.
to your surprise, satoru looks more or less the same. his eyes aren't cloudy and they still glow with that familiar bright blue. the only difference, which was expected, was how his eyes didn't quite settle on you. they were pointed in your direction, but his eyes didn't entirely focus on you.
"so?" satoru asks, running a finger over his eyes. "how bad is it?"
"satoru, you look the same."
he blinks and doesn't answer for a second, as if he's processing the information. "really?" he asks, an unreadable expression on his face.
"yep."
"oh. well, that was anticlimactic," satoru says with a lopsided grin. he leans forward and scoots down from his spot against the headboard, laying his head on a pillow and pulling you on top of his chest. "my bad."
"you idiot," you mumble, pressing your face into his neck. "i didn't get to see your pretty face for a whole week."
"ah, i believe it was only six days."
"and satoru, you even turned on limitless at night! the hell would i even do? cut your blindfold off in the middle of the night?" you grumble, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. "and i can't believe that the only reason you didn't want to show me your face is because you thought you weren't pretty anymore!"
satoru grins lazily and rests one of his hands on your waist, slipping a finger under the waistband of your shorts and idly rubbing your skin.  "keep venting, sweetheart. it's cute."
he laughs when you swat him with another pillow and pulls you in for a long kiss. and that's when you know that things might never go back to how they were in satoru's glory days. 
but as the night falls and slips away in satoru's arms, you think that maybe, just maybe, this works too.
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