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#i have really long toes???????? is that anything??????
zephyrchama · 3 days
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Belphegor followed you down the hall as you dragged your suitcase. It wasn’t very big, but it was still heavy and annoying to lug over the thick decorative carpets. Every time one came to an end, the luggage thudded loudly back onto the hardwood floor.
“You sure you have everything? You packed the pillow I gave you?” Belphegor sluggishly matched his pace to yours. Having long legs must be nice.
“Of course, I triple checked.” ”Good. That’s my fifth favorite pillow, so you have to come back and return it, ok?”
You nodded as the suitcase went over another bump. This was your third time going over this exact conversation.
It wasn’t just the youngest, all of the brothers were antsy about your little trip. It was written all over their faces as you arrived at the foyer where they were waiting. Satan and Asmodeus solemnly stood up from the steps they were sitting on. Mammon and Leviathan had a hard time looking at you, their eyes darted all over the walls and ceiling. Beelzebub offered to move your suitcase by the door.
Just one weekend away. That was it. Solomon volunteered to take you back to the human world for a bit. You couldn't let a rare trip home pass by, as who knew when the next opportunity would arise. You could eat some normal food for once and stock up on your favorite human things. Though, your housemates reacted like you were leaving for a year.
“Did you pack everything?” Lucifer asked.
“Of course, I triple checked.” Deja-vu.
“Even the lotion I gave you?” Asmodeus looked so worried. He loosely took hold of your forearm with a tear in his eye. “Don’t forget, the sun is awful this time of year. I’ll never forgive you if you come back looking like a lobster.”
“Asmo, I won’t.” You grinned at his silly concern and leaned in for a hug. Asmodeus did not disappoint.
Everyone else took a step forward, hoping for a hug of their own, as Asmodeus breathed into your ear, “I’ll be waiting.”
“You have my number. If anything goes wrong, call me.” Lucifer sounded so reliable as he placed a hand on your shoulder.
There were half a dozen chimes of “mine, too!” and “same here!”
You’d been away for longer trips. How in the world did these guys survive for so many millennia before you met them? You turned to look at Lucifer, wanting to counter that Devildom phones didn’t even work in the human world, but he probably knew that already.
"Don't talk to strangers," he reminded, "and don't go out alone at night. Some humans are worse than demons." He wrapped his arms around you and wished “safe travels.”
Mammon stepped up next. He forced himself to stare at you, haughtily playing off the sadness he was really feeling. His bottom lip jutted out a little more than usual. “Well! You’ll bring me back a good souvenir, right?”
“Oh? I don’t know, I might not have time…” It was playful banter, yet your words shocked him. Mammon’s eyes widened. He began stammering and gripped your fingers. You quickly performed damage control, “Joking! I’m joking, Mammon. Of course I’ll get you a souvenir.”
The younger siblings piped up, “us too!”
“I’m getting everyone souvenirs, don’t worry!” You already had a few gift ideas in mind.
Mammon put his forehead on your shoulder and a hand on your back that he rubbed. “But mine’ll be the best. I trust ya.”
“Don’t let Solomon give you any food he cooks,” Beelzebub warned. “Actually, don’t let Solomon give you any food. Ever.” He tried to give you a lumpy-looking cloth bag, no doubt filled with homemade treats to take with you. It smelled scrumptious. Only issue was, the bag was half your size.
“Beel, there’s food in the human world. I can’t take all this, why don’t you enjoy it with your brothers?”
Beelzebub frowned, setting aside his present. It tilted under the weight of its own contents. You felt a slight pang of guilt, but how could you carry it all? That much food could last you a week.
He picked you up for his hug, your toes dangling several inches off the floor until he gently set you back down. Belphegor caught you as you regained your footing.
His hug was simple and cozy. He tucked a strand of your hair behind an ear. “Don’t forget about my pillow.”
You suspected that if you ever actually tried to run away, these seven would go to the ends of the three realms to find you.
Satan nudged your luggage, observing the way it slided forward an inch. It was heavy to you, but clearly not them. “That’s really all you’re bringing? Do you have enough clothes?”
“Yes! You helped me pack!” The repetition was really starting to grate on you. Things were never this crazy when one of them had to leave the house for a few days. They wouldn't even care unless somebody went mysteriously unseen for over a week. “You all know I’ve got everything under control. I’ll be back in two days.”
“Hey, how come Satan got to help you pack?” Mammon complained.
“We did too,” Belphegor said, his twin in agreement.
“It was a group effort,” according to Asmodeus.
Mammon crossed his arms. "No way! You let these guys see your underwear?"
Satan ignored them. “Do you want another book for the road?”
“I’ll be fine.” You gave Satan his hug. After letting go, his fingers hovered by your side. “We’re teleporting there anyway. I don’t think there’ll be time to read anything.”
One suspiciously quiet demon in the back stared at the floor. “Two days,” he sighed. Leviathan did a poor job of hiding how upset he was.
“Levi, aren’t you going to say goodbye?”
“Yes!?” His head jerked up, met your gaze, and looked down again.
“I can’t leave until I get a full set of hugs from everyone,” you admitted. “I’m missing a very valuable part of the collection.”
Asmodeus and Mammon readily offered themselves for a second go. Leviathan’s cheeks flushed with envy and he grabbed you a little roughly, squishing his face into your shoulder. “You’ll take lots of pictures? A-and you won’t forget about us?”
You scoffed, “how could I forget about you? We’re bound together by a pact, aren’t we?” As for photos… you didn't know what would be interesting, but it couldn't hurt to take a bunch anyway.
Lucifer cleared his throat, signaling to Leviathan it was time to let go. "I miss you already," he muttered.
The seven of them followed you out of the house and down to the House of Lamentation’s front gate. It was like having a school of fish circling you. You could call it a miracle they weren't following you onto the main road, but if they went that far you knew they'd unreasonably demand Solomon take them along too.
“It’s just one weekend!” you reiterated. “Take care, you guys.”
They peered at you through the fence bars, waving when you glanced over. It was a sad sight, and possible attempt to make you come rushing back. If it was this bad already, you didn't want to think about how they'd act if you were going away for one week.
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nightsmarish · 3 days
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Summary: you find a dog and Sirius isn't so sure about keeping it
Poly!wolfstar x reader (Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x reader) | 1.2k
Tw: mentions of vet, reader think Sirius might be mad they brought a dog home, talk abt shitty weather, Sirius sitting on readers lap, reader oogaling Sirius' thighs
⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ Remus sits in the arm chair in the living room, book open but he's mostly zoned out. Sleep has been evading him like Sirius evades dishes. And it's likely that knowing that you're not home yet from your late shift has been making him anxious, normally Sirius would be up with him, waiting for you, but Sirius has been utterly exhausted lately, so he doesn’t blame him for being able to sleep. 
The door unlocking breaks whatever trance Remus was in, hearing you try and be quiet while you shut it and toe off your shoes. Remus stands up, placing a bookmark to mark his place as he makes his way to the entryway.
“Hi, dove.” His voice is soft and warm. You face him, face lighting up despite your exhausted features.
“Hey Rem.” You're holding your jacket in your arms, smiling guiltily.
“....what do you have there?” 
“Listen- you- Sirius might be upset. So just, keep this between us? For tonight?” You rush out your words, having practiced how you would explain yourself on the way home. 
“Show me what you have and then we can talk.” His lips quirk up in amusement as he crosses his arms over his chest.
You hesitate for a moment before moving your coat. Remus walks closer to look into the little nest you made, where he sees a small ball of fluff.
“Merlin…” Remus mumbles as he follows you to the kitchen in your shared townhouse. 
“I found him outside of work, I couldn’t just leave him.” slowly the small puppy onto the counter, making sure its still asleep before going to the fridge to find something for the little thing to eat. 
You're not wrong for bringing the puppy home, and Remus knows that. It's been freezing out and raining heavily for days, he can’t imagine how pitiful the puppy must have been outside. 
“I’ll- I'll take him to the vet tomorrow. Or find one open tonight. I swear, and we can all decide what to do from there.” You pull out some of the fancy lunch meat Sirius had bought for the sandwiches Remus has been taking to lunch this week, taking a slice and ripping it up on a small paper plate.
“Dove… I think we should wake up Pad.” Remus is slightly cautious despite it being his idea, knowing Sirius has always been a bit wary about the idea of getting a dog because he is a dog. Metaphorically and literally. 
You're filling up a small bowl with water, “I know, we should. I just- i don’t know. He's had a really long week and he's tired, and I don’t want to make it more exhausting because I brought home a dog.” 
“I know, but if he comes down for a class of water and you're hunched over a dog, he's gonna be half asleep and likely freak out a bit.”
“Yeah, okay, I’ll go wake him up. Can you see if he wants to eat or drink anything? Please?” You start making your way out the kitchen when you hear Remus confirm he can. 
Walking up the stairs, the door is cracked open to the bedroom, the light moon filtering in through the drapes and onto the bed. The bed where Sirius is dead asleep, hair messy, and shirt ridden up. You sit on the bed, gently brushing the hair out of his face.
“Siri? Baby?” Sirius stirs, groaning and reaching for your body, trying to trap you in bed with him. “Baby- Sirius we have a dog.” 
The laziness in his motions immediately stops, opening his eyes with furrowed brows and sits up. “What?”
“I found a dog, he's down stairs. I think I’m gonna find a 24 hour animal hospital to take him to.” You fidget with the hair tie on your wrist, not looking at his reaction. 
“Where did you find a sodding dog? In this weather?” Sirius rolls out of bed, standing in front of you, rather distracting in his boxers and concert shirt that you're pretty sure is yours. 
“Outside, near my work.” You shamelessly stare at his thighs, littered with a few tattoos that are a stark contrast to his pale skin. 
“And you brought it home?” 
“Yep, he's downstairs, wanna meet him?”
And Sirius does meet him, the little ball of white and brown fur. Even he had to admit the little thing was adorable (he thinks he's cuter but that wasn’t the conversation at the time). Both the boys accompany you to the 24 hour animal hospital you found. 
The puppy is rather healthy, a little under fed, and still shivering like a leaf. But caring for him back to help wouldn’t be too challenging. The next few days, the puppy remains in your home.
ᯓ★
“I wanna keep him.” You break the calm atmosphere of the house, Remus mixing batter for muffins, while Sirius sits on the counter and ‘helps’ while his record player softly plays in the background. 
“The dog?” Sirius whips his head back, Remus glancing over as well while he continues to mix. 
“No, I wanna keep james. Yes, the sodding dog.” Said dog, is sitting on your stomach while you lay back on the couch, watching oogaling Remus work. 
“I mean, I’m not opposed  to it.” Remus speaks up before Sirius can make a snide, and likely inappropriate response including James and him being called puppy. 
"I don't know..." Sirius glares, albeit softly, at the puppy, "I don't want dog fur on my clothes. And we don't know what breed he even is, he could grow to be huge. Like, part Tibetan Mastiff or something."
You hold the puppy's little face, pointing him to face Sirius, "but look at this little face! Cm'on baby, he's so cute!"
Sirius looks at the puppy, sleepily nuzzling closer to your hands, allowing you to do with him as you wish.
Remus watches Sirius' resolve dissolve quickly, "merlin... fine, we can keep him. But we should get him a DNA test. And neutered. And I still want to lay on you as padfoot, I get veto."
Remus smiles, pouring the batter into the muffin tin, “We should name him then, he deserves to be called more than the dog.”
“Padfoot jr?” 
Sirius looks at you like you've shot his mother, if this was a magical alternate universe where she was lovely. “No”
His reaction makes you laugh, disturbing the puppy, so he gets up and hops off the couch to go find somewhere else. Having gained a lot more comfort in this environment than his first day there. “You don’t want him to be your legacy?”
Sirius hops off the counter, walking to where you're laid back, moving on you to straddle your lap. “I am my own legacy, darling.”
Both you smile at each other, your hands moving up to hold onto his hips. Remus puts the tin in the oven and sets the timer, glancing at the record player, playing Cherry Bomb before joining you two. “What about Cherry?”
Both of you glance at him, “Like the song by The Runaways?” Sirius asks, smiling at the idea. 
“That’d be cute!” you sit up, only part way so he doesn’t fall off your lap. 
“With that logic, we should just name him Queen, if we are going off iconic songs.” 
“Yeah, but Queen isn’t a song, it's a band.” You sit up the rest of the way, taking Sirius with you. 
“Killer Queen is a song.” Remus points out.
“I like Cherry.” you hum, as Sirius dips down to kiss you.
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buttdumplin · 2 days
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The sweet, lovely poly 141 boys and their Spanish-speaking latine partner.
This was meant to be a quick little thing, but boy did this get away from me lmao. This is the fluffiest shit I've ever indulged in and I love it. Big thank you to @mikichko for inspiring and helping with this!!!
CW: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, mexican slang, hint of d/s dynamics in Johnny's
Price, god love the man, is the one who seems to stumble the most. It's almost comical, considering the fact that Spanish and Arabic are so similar due to their histories. But there's a big difference between the Spanish he's learned to recognize and what you throw at him on the daily. He truly thinks it's because of his age, window of acquisition and all that. John does not expect to be able to speak fluently with you, but he does at least want to understand you. What he really wants, though, is to make you feel more fully at home with him, and he is forever grateful that you feel comfortable and safe enough with them to embrace all parts of your identity.
"Hola, amor mío. How was your day?" you greet him from the couch, eyeing him from tip to toe and almost whistling at seeing him in uniform. "Sigues rechulo, mi güerito, so I assume all went well?"
John swings down to kiss you, gripping the back of your neck to prolongue the kiss, trying to soak in as much of the affection as he can while also disguising the fact that he still doesn't fully recognize what came after.
"Yours was good too, I trust?"
"Yeah, but my brother called. El güey still con sus pinches mamadas and asking for my help. Aguas, in case he shows up this week."
"I... will keep an eye out, dove."
"Call me si les arma pedo and I'm not around."
He just nods sagely and squishes up against you on the couch, letting your warmth seep into his tired bones.
Later that evening, he rounds up the boys while you're in the shower and pulls out a small notebook where he's written things out phonetically. John may not have all the knowledge he needs, but he sure as hell is good at getting it.
"'Güey,' that's the brother's nickname?"
"No, that's like 'man/guy.' But it's also an insult. But not always," Johnny supplies.
"Fuck me, okay. 'Rechulo' is... I got nothing for that one."
"The 're' is for heavy emphasis, 'chulo' is 'cute/handsome/pretty.' 'Re' can go on practically any adjective," Simon steps in.
"'Aguas' and 'pedo' CANNOT be what they are, right?"
Kyle takes his hand and chuckles, "No, sweetheart. The first is like a warning, the second a fight or scene or scandal. In this context."
John's shoulders finally relax and he lets out a heavy sigh, putting the final touches on his notes of the day.
"Thank you, boys, for your patience and your kindness. And your secrecy," John huffs a little laughter and gives them his sweetest smile, the one where you can see the dimples poking out through the beard.
They all reach over to gently caress him, taking turns kissing the parts of him they can reach.
"Thank you, John, for trying so hard."
~
Beautiful, wonderful Kyle, the delight of a man that he is, is the one giving it as good as he gets. He's the one crooning in your ear, showering you with the most decadent terms of endearment, knowing full well they make your knees much weaker in Spanish. He'll use the advantage every single chance he has, don't doubt that for a second. But truly, it's the soft seclusion of those moments that he cherishes most, when you're looking up at him with big bright eyes, knowing you fully trust him to take care of you.
You're grumbling away as you wash dishes after dinner when Kyle comes up behind you, arms making the way slowly around your waist, chin dropping onto your shoulder.
"Oh, tesoro mío, look at you working away, working so hard for us."
You refuse to look at him and give a fussy pout. He knows it's your least favorite of the house duties. So much so that you're always willing to do almost anything as long as you don't have to touch wet food.
"It looks like you've done enough, cariño. Come join us in bed."
"No. None of you wanted to trade with me so se aguantan," you try to wiggle and bump his head away from yours.
"Come on, cosa hermosa, we need you with us to settle for the night," he pulls your hands from the water, drying them and turning you towards him.
You immediately bury your face into his chest. Can't look him in the eye, he'll win you over the moment you do.
"So they send in the smooth talker, huh?"
Kyle laughs, clear and bright, and he wraps you back up in his arms, gently cradling your head until you give in and look up at him.
"Or," he says, making you both rock gently, "I'm trying to sneak in a little solo time."
Your body melts against his as the words sink in, big eyes blinking softly up at him, "Besito?"
"As many as you want, mi vida. Until you grow bored of me," and you're letting out a sweet sigh as those soft lips meet yours.
His hands move to bring your body closer to his, to milk this quiet moment for as much contact as possible, to sear it all into his memory.
"You two are awfully quiet out there," Simon calls from the bedroom and it makes you break apart with a little jump.
You hear frantic rustling that has to be Johnny, "Hold on, what happened to doing the dishes!"
A chuckle escapes the two of you, sparkling eyes meeting in the low light from the stove hood. The sound of John huffing to get comfortable floats in from the bedroom.
"Just a minute more, hermosura," he mutters against your hair. "Wanna stay here a bit longer."
"Really liking all those pet names, aren't you?"
Kyle laughs again and gives you a squeeze, "Mean every single one of them."
And you happily linger, not pointing out that you've noticed an endearing pattern of Kyle wrapping up nights in the kitchen with you in his arms and a faint love song echoing down the hall for you two to sway to.
~
Beloved, darling Simon, he hides his own understanding of the language. He understands it nearly perfectly, with just the tiniest margin of error, nothing too big to bring attention to it. Overall, he's able to catch almost everything you mumble. It's not to be sneaky or anything like that, Simon would never do anything to compromise your privacy. It's more that he doesn't quite see the need to verbalize it. To him it's nothing special, no need to make a spectacle. Instead, he lets it seep into his actions, ever the acts of service lover that he is.
You're spread out on the couch, on the phone with your mother, complaining, "Como chingan los del trabajo. Me pidieron un reporte para el viernes y ahora me reclaman que todavía no se los he dado y apenas es miércoles."
There was a tension in your shoulders when you came home from work, he didn't miss that. Caught you jolting to a stop mid-stretch. And as the call goes on longer, Simon picks up on more.
"No he tenido chance de lavar ropa, ni una putisima pijama... Traigo un pinche antojo de mole, pero es un chingo de trabajo y ahorita no le puedo dedicar el tiempo..."
He quietly moves to gather the boys as you continue ranting and pace around the room. You're too caught up in your call to see them forming a massive huddle and their nodding at Simon right as the break and throw their joined hands in the air.
By the time you're off the phone, it's dark out and you notice the house is quieter than usual. You move to look for the boys (they can't have left without telling you, right?) when Simon pops out from the hall, crooked smile you love so much adorning his face, and he simply takes your hand to pull you into the bathroom. A hot bath greets you, some honeyed bath bomb already dissolving in the water and your laptop set up on a bucket besides the bath, your comfort show already pulled up and ready to play. Simon then points to your softest pajamas washed and set out on the counter for you.
"And you'll help me with my lotion too?"
He kisses your forehead, "When do I not?"
"The boys?"
"Setting up dinner. Kyle and I are making your favorite."
You whip around to face him, eyes wide and excited, "With fresh tortillas?"
With a low, affirmative hum Simon pulls you in closer and just holds you. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. But he lends you his strength, which is all he can really hope for. The steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms around you help release the tightness in your body. Letting out your own little hum, you give him a squeeze and he squeezes back harder, crushing you in the way he knows you find comforting. There's a soft devotion in his tenderness with you, an unshakable support in every single thing you do.
"So you gonna undress me too, or...?"
A peal of laughter escapes you as he playfully swats at your butt, "Undress yourself. I've got cooking to do."
A day without hearing your laughter is a day poorly spent to Simon.
He's almost to the door when you pull him back into you, hands tugging on his shirt to bring him down to your height. His own laughter rumbles in his chest as you cover his face in loud kisses, and he stays locked in place. He will for as long as you need him to, never mind his back. If it's gonna go out eventually, he'd rather it go out from his time spent like this.
~
Johnny, bless the boy, is desperate to hear it, to have you address him directly. You speak plenty around the house, on phone calls with friends, talking back at the tv (some shows have been put on temporary bans, or at the very least you're not supposed to watch them alone), at the lovely crooked cat yall adopted. You shower them with pet names with every breath you take. And he loves it all! Loves that you so willingly share so much of yourself with them. But Johnny boy is dying for something specific- "Love, why don't you call me papi?"
When he voices it, it's a complete surprise. Simon and Kyle both laugh so hard so suddenly that they find themselves choking on their own spit. Price himself is caught so off-guard that he fully looks up from the dinner he's prepping in the kitchen, raw chicken slipping out of his hands and plopping back into the flour bowl. You at first laugh it off lightly, thinking it was one of his cutesy jokes he makes to get a giggle out of everyone. That would have made the most sense, honestly. But when he looks away, big blue eyes shining with the softest hint of embarrassment, it sinks in.
You shift in your seat a fraction, "Johnny, I don't even call any of you that in English. You know it's not exactly the same thing, right?"
"I know but the little old lady from the corner shop calls me "papi" and so does the older man who brings the water and other people too and it's always so affectionate and so I thought..."
He spares a glance at you, hoping he hasn't completely overstepped.
"Where did this come from?"
"Ale let it slip last time we grabbed coffee and the joy on Rudy's face was so blinding that I thought maybe we should try it."
"Honey--"
"Please, just once."
"But I--"
"It doesn't have to be a title! It can be soft and casual, no expectations."
"You don't--"
"I promise I'll be good for it."
Oh.
Your gaze meets the other boys' and you all take a good look at your Johnny. At some point during his pleading he brought himself down to kneel in front of you. His broad shoulders are slumped forward in submission, his hands clenched together so tightly his fingertips are completely white. Price nods at you, the other two eagerly nodding along as well.
Leaning forward, you grab him by the jaw, gently bringing his head to rest against your thigh.
Running your fingers through his hair, you utter out a low, "Sweet little thing like you just wants to be good, don't you papi?"
Johnny's eyes glaze over slightly, a shy, dazed smile growing on his face. There's not an ounce of hesitation in him as he nuzzles his face into your thigh, just sweet elation. Pleased grumbles escape the others, making Johnny's smile grow bigger.
You make sure to add it into your regular circulation.
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ameliathornromance · 2 days
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Your Orc tried to fool himself. You’d be back in a few weeks, there’s no point in dwelling on you. You’re not a stupid human woman by any means. And you’d been living with Orcs for the past few years, there’s no way you’re going down easily.
But that didn’t stop him from worrying. Your Orc would have gone with you, but due to it being a winter season, Orc hunts would have increased… And being caught travelling with a human woman would have put an even bigger target on his back than usual.
There was safety in numbers, so he had to stay with his camp.
He resolved to sit and wait by the entrance of his tent every morning and evening, watching Orcs leave and re-enter the camp with game and food. Your Orc hoped that you’d be in toe, following and chatting animatedly with other Orcs.
And every time, he was disappointed.
He neglected his duties in the camp, even after some encouragement from other Orcs around him… But when your Orc Boyfriend showed no intent to move, they started to worry for him.
The whole camp never realised how much of a detriment your separation would be to the Orc.
To distract your Orc Boyfriend, some of his closer Orcs cajoled him, “come on, let’s go hunting. The longer you sit there, the worse you’re going to feel. She’ll come back quicker if you busy yourself.” Said Kass – a hunting Orc.
“Yeah,” Crux agreed – another hunting Orc, Kass and him were never parted, even for a moment – “time always go by slowly if you’re waiting on it, c’mon!”
“I have to be here for when she gets back.” Your Orc huffed, crossing his arms.
The two rolled their eyes, “you haven’t done anything but sit there for weeks. Leaving the camp will be good for you, come on.”
After being poked and prodded by his two friends, your Orc begrudgingly agreed to go on a hunt with them.
Hunting was always harder in the winter. All the animals worth eating went into hibernation or hid simply because of how cold it was.
Luckily, your Orc and his others found prey rather easily. It felt good to blow off that anxious energy. Kass and Crux thought that your Orc Boyfriend had set a new record for catching wild animals in these icy conditions.
After a long day of trudging through snow, tying up the animals they had caught, your Orc and his friends returned back to the camp.
As they neared the camp, a familiar laugh pricked at your Orc Boyfriend’s ears. He stopped in his tracks, Kass and Crux stopping too.
“Is that…” Crux asked.
The laugh came again, louder this time.
And that was when your Orc knew. Dropping the dead carcasses, he took off into a run to the camp.
His friends shouted curses at him, but he didn’t care. His heart in his ears, blood thrumming through his veins, he charged through the camp and found you.
You stood in front of the clan Elders, handing them huge dried bundles of herbs, red nosed from the cold, but smiling. Alive and safe.
As much as your Orc wanted to sweep you into his arms, he couldn’t ignore the slight irritation that you had returned in his absence.
So, as quietly as he could, he crept up behind you. The Elders tried their best to ignore him as he got closer and closer. “The one time I leave camp,” he growled, bending down to the side of your head, “and you dare to come back so I can’t greet you!?”
Before you could turn to face your Orc Boyfriend, you were swept off your feet and pulled into a rib-cracking hug. Your Orc grinned as you let out a shout of surprise.
Throwing your arms around him, you squeezed him back. “I missed you so much!” You told him.
“He was miserable without you.” Your boyfriends company had come back into the camp, looking disgruntled. “I’ve never seen him looking like such a sad sap.” Kass snorted.
You rolled your eyes at them and kissed your Orc’s forehead, “aww, did you really miss me that much?”
Your Orc shot Crux and Kass a glare as they smirked, happy in their vengeance. But he grumbled, burying his head in your neck, “yeah.”
“Well I’m not going anywhere like that again.” You reassured. “That trip was a nightmare. And I’m sure the Elders have got enough of that herb to last a few years.”
Looking at the Elders, they nodded before turning back to return to their own tent. “C’mon, let’s catch up.” You said as your Orc put you down. “I want to tell you about the dragon who nearly ate me.”
“A dragon nearly did what?”
“Just kidding, I wanted to see your reaction.”
Your Orc rolled his eyes as you laughed and went off to your shared tent. Smiling, your Orc Boyfriend followed behind you, happy that you had returned, safe and sound.
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colonelarr0w · 1 day
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I love your writing so much!!
Can I request some comfort Sukuna where he finally breaks down the walls around readers heart who has been hurt previously years before…reader made him wonder why they didn’t ever let him see them cry before and that bothered him.
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Sypnosis - Love wasn't for everyone, you had long since accepted that fact. But ... were you really okay with being alone?
Warning(s) - None besides mature themes and some foul language.
A/N - Oh my god I loved this request so much. Reader is definitely a little bit too much like me in this one, but it's okay because at least she somewhat fixed her issues!
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
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Love wasn't for everyone. 
That was a hard pill to swallow, but it was one that you had swallowed after so many years of being constantly disappointed. One after the other, it was as if the heavens above were taunting you. Either that, or they were punishing you for some heinous crime. 
Even though you wanted so desperately to experience what everyone else did; stolen glances, random flowers, gentle kisses, passionate sex, late-night dates … you had just come to the conclusion that no matter what you did, it just wasn't for you.  
And you were okay with that. 
Yet, it was annoying to then hear others come to you spewing their bullshit. 
"You just haven't met the one yet!"  "Don't worry, love will come to you when you least expect it." 
"Trust me. The moment that you stop looking for love, it comes to find you." 
"You're quiet," Sukuna says harshly, dropping his finished cigarette onto the ground and snuffing out its orange hue with the toe of his boot. Your head jerks upward, blinking for a moment before you clear your throat – you hadn't meant to fall into a daydream.  
"Hmm? Oh, no, I'm okay," you answer quickly, lifting your own half-finished cigarette to your lips and inhaling. You hoped that the smoke would ease your nerves, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.  
Sukuna's eyes roam over your figure, his mind taking notes on your expression and body language. Your eyebrows are pinched together, eyes flickering to look at anything but him, your lips are turned downward in a frown that he somewhat wishes would go away. Your shoulders are stiff, back standing as straight as a line. Your hands are shaking. 
"Tch," he clicks his tongue, turning his body and half-stepping towards you. His fingers close over your wrist, pulling the cigarette away from your lips. "You're a shitty liar." 
Your eyes cast themselves to the ground, embarrassment heating your cheeks. He falters, but he toes out your cigarette anyway, then turning to face forward again – he doesn't want to make you any more uncomfortable than you already are.  
"What are you thinking about?" he asks after a beat of silence, hanging his arms over the railing of your apartment's balcony. Your eyes flicker to him for a moment, silently admiring the way that the moonlight illuminates his face and the tattoos inked into his skin.  
"Nothing that would interest you." 
Not when it comes to you. Talk to me, he wants to say. But the words fall dead on his tongue. He doesn't turn his head to look at you, only humming in acknowledgement.  
Another beat of silence passes over you and Sukuna. It gets you wondering … did he even like being around you? After all, the only reason why he kept meeting you after work was because he had offered you a ride home. In return, you offered him cigarettes. A fair trade. 
"Interesting or not," he hesitates, biting his tongue, "'s not good when you keep all that stuff in." 
You freeze, hands tightening their hold on the railing as you stare out at the cityscape. Already you can feel tears beginning to gather along your waterline. You try your hardest to swallow them away, but nothing.  
"I-I said it was fine," you manage to choke out, trying to subtly wipe at your eyes. Sukuna notices … he always did.  
He reaches into his pocket for something, then nudging your arm with a handkerchief closed between his fingers. You take it, mumbling a quiet thanks before wiping your eyes with it. "I'm sorry." 
Sukuna doesn't answer, he doesn't have to. It's more of a silent understanding that yes, something is bothering you, but in your own time you would open up to him about it. Maybe it wouldn't be tonight, maybe it wouldn't be tomorrow … but eventually, you would.  
He shrugs in response to your apology. "Nothin' to apologize for." 
Another beat of silence passes over you both, this one more comfortable than the last. Sukuna reaches into his pocket, taking out the cigarettes that you had given him. He opens the box with his thumb, hesitating on taking another one out.  
You eye the box out of the corner of your eye … it was the only reason he even came into your apartment, wasn't it? 
To your shock, he drops the box off of the edge of the balcony, watching it through half-lidded eyes as it falls out of sight. You turn your head to look at him, finding him already staring at you.  
Neither of you say anything.    
One minute turns into two, two into four, four into six.  
"Y'know, I get the whole … wanting to be alone thing," Sukuna says, turning away from you so that he wouldn't have to look at your slightly pained expression. He leans further against the railing, gaze focusing on the blinking lights of a nearby billboard.  
"You can tell yourself all you want that you want to be alone," he finally turns to you, "but do you really want that?" 
You freeze, eyes wide like a deer that had been caught in headlights. Blankly, you stare at him, mind struggling to mull over what he had just asked you.  
Did you really want to be alone? 
"I-" You pause, swallowing the lump that had settled in the center of your throat. "I don't." 
With that, Sukuna swallows all of his pride and tugs you into his arms. You fold into him, nails biting into the back of his leather jacket – the one that reeks of smoke and of must. But at the same time, those two comforting smells remind you that right now, in this moment, you aren't truly alone.  
Do y'all want a part two of this? Or like a series of Sukuna and !Non-Trusting girlfriend? 
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eff4freddie · 2 days
Text
Touch | Part Five
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You struggle to re-establish a purpose in Jackson. But the Miller brothers will always keep you on your toes.
Words: 5.2k
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Warnings: smutty smut smut, oral (m receiving), kind of subby Joel maybe?, like shades of subby, whimpers and groans, carpentry
Minors DNI
You envied people who didn’t remember their dreams. Yours lingered with you, so much accumulated horror for your brain to draw upon. The crunching of dried-out fungus under boot. The squelch of blood running over clenched fist. The screams of your sister, reverberating with the screams of your dad, of your mum, of yourself. Formless and vacant of hope, a belligerent and unrelenting slideshow.
You woke with a start in your own bed, alone and trying to piece together how you got there. After Joel had taken care of you on the coffee table you had slumped towards him, head on his shoulder, and took in all the air your lungs could get. The exhaustion was overwhelming and you had felt yourself go limp in his arms, dimly aware of him lifting you, carrying you up the stairs. You’d had enough presence of mind to worry he was going to hurt his shoulder before he had you wrapped up in your blanket. You didn’t hear him leave.
You supposed you should be happy, but you had long started to suspect that it wasn’t really an emotion you were capable of. Even before outbreak day you’d had too much to worry about. You had already come to terms with the fact that happiness just wasn’t something your mind could do. Terror, though. That was your speciality.
At the bottom of the stairs, you peered through the front window at the rest of Jackson going about their day. Ordinarily, you would have been setting up for your first client, but you’d already cancelled them. You couldn’t bring yourself to look into the treatment room, hadn’t been in there since your table collapsed. The excitement of Maria delivering, the thrill of being somewhat useful, had allowed you to forget for a second that your vocation, the one thing that had got you into Jackson and probably saved your life in the process, was over. Without the table you were limited to straddling grumpy men in your kitchen, and that was a whole different job.
You glanced in at the living room, eyeing the coffee table suspiciously. You were running out of safe rooms in your house.
You kept your eyes down at the mess hall, only glancing up once or twice to ensure that the coast was clear. You weren’t surprised to see that Ray wasn’t there, assuming that he was manning the radio with Simon trying to scout any danger for Marla and the crew. The expedition was expected to take several days, longer if the weather turned. There was no cause for alarm, no reason to assume anything was amiss. But you knew Ray, and that that wouldn’t stop him.
Halfway through your porridge a tray dropped onto the table in front of you, and you startled, snapping your head up. You felt your stomach flip, the rolled oats no longer sitting comfortably beside the acid and bile in your stomach.
‘Mind if I sit?’ Ellie asked, already settling into the chair. You shook your head, swallowing heavily.
‘No, course,’ you said.
‘You looked lonely, you always look lonely.’
‘You’re very observant,’ you said, not sure if this was truly a compliment.
‘We just got back to Jackson,’ Ellie said, undeterred.
‘So I hear.’
‘I think we’re staying for a while,’ she went on largely without you. Her eyes had drifted to the middle distance, and you could see that she was thinking.
‘And how do you feel about that?’ you prompted. Her gaze shifted back to you, and she shook her head as if the thoughts were clinging to her clothes.
‘I’ve seen you around,’ she said, and you got the feeling she was starting the conversation over again, to see if she could improve it a second time. You let her.
‘Yup,’ you said.
‘You touch people,’ she said simply, and you blinked, had no idea what to make of it.
‘Umm…’ you started, and she interrupted you.
‘Dina says it helps people feel good,’ Ellie continued, as did your concerns.
‘What exactly did she day I do?’ you desperately tried to clarify.
‘You rub people and they feel good.’
Nope. Not better.
‘Massage,’ you spat out abruptly, ‘it’s a kind of therapy, physical therapy…but not like, it’s not…it’s good for your muscles, for your spine.’
‘Right,’ Ellie said, as if this was obvious, and you were very relieved to have got that sorted out at least.
‘You massaged Joel,’ she went on, and you wondered how hard it would be to jam your butter knife into your eye socket and remove yourself from the conversation, if not the planet, completely. ‘He told me it helped. Well he didn’t tell me, but he was all angry and sore…more than normal…then Tommy made him see you and he was better after that. He was his normal grumpy self, not his sore grumpy self.’
‘I’m happy to have helped,’ you said. You had given up trying to predict where the conversation was going, and now you were just tagging along behind her.
‘You did help,’ she said, leaning forward on her chair, up on her elbows on the table. ‘I want to help, too.’
‘You…do?’
‘Yeah I thought I could…I thought I was going to but, it didn’t…’ She looked around the room, flustered, and dipped her head lower to murmur underneath the sounds of the other tables. ‘I thought that I could help people one way, but it didn’t work out, and I just want to see if there’s another…fuck it actually, this is stupid.’
‘No, it’s not stupid,’ you said, and you reached out to put your hand on her arm, but she pulled it back like you had burned her.
‘You probably think I’m too young,’ she said, rolling her eyes but also really seeming to mean it.
‘I was your age who I started learning,’ you said, and watched as her eyes lit up, finally rising back to meet yours.
‘You were?’ she asked, and you nodded, grinning at her.
‘I think so, yeah. I mean, how old are you, Ellie?’
Like a shot her smile dropped, and she slunk backwards and away from you, receding into the chair and appearing to you to deflate to half her size. ‘What, what did I…’ and then you realised, cursed yourself and your remaining three brain cells. She hadn’t told you her name.
‘Who’s been talking about me?’ she asked, so quietly you only just heard. You swallowed. You remembered what it was like to be a teenager, to be relentlessly comparing yourself to your peers, to the women in magazines and on tv, to be relentlessly self-conscious, to be convinced everyone is talking about you and also worse, that no one is.
‘I asked Maria who you both were who you arrived,’ you said, deciding it was safer to talk about Maria then it was to talk about Joel. ‘I saw how Tommy reacted to Joel, and to you, and I didn’t understand what was happening so I asked.’
Ellie nodded, considering this, and you could see she had already worked out that it wasn’t the whole truth, but you hoped it was enough truth that she didn’t disappear on you.
‘What did she say?’ she asked, and you thought very hard and very fast to think of a good answer. You would have preferred a minefield.
‘Just that you were Joel’s kind of adopted daughter and that you’d been out of town for a while…and that she was super happy to have you back.’ You prayed the last part would ring true in some way, that it would be enough to reassure her. ‘Maria cares about you a lot.’
‘Maria doesn’t know me,’ Ellie replied. I don’t trust that he’s not keeping her in the dark.
‘She doesn’t need to, she just cares anyway,’ you said, and you meant it.
A loud group of teenagers, slightly older than Ellie if you had to guess, pushed into the mess hall and you watched as she pulled away from you even further, taking up residence about three centimetres back from her own skin. Her eyes were hard, vacant. You had seen the same look on Joel, and you knew then that she was a quick learner.
‘Ellie-‘ you started, but she was pushing her chair back.
‘Never mind,’ she said over her shoulder as she hurried away.
The mood in the town shifted over the next few days. Neither Marla nor any of the other crew had radioed in since reaching the third checkpoint, and there had been heavy, low-hanging clouds threatening the mountains. You had wondered about going in to see Ray, but you weren’t sure what you could say that would be any consolation. You worried, perhaps unfairly but also perhaps not, that you would say the wrong thing, that in your haphazard if well-intentioned way you would lose him, too. Instead, you stayed away.
You also avoided Joel. You felt the urge to keep a respectful distance, to try and pretend like it had never happened, like you hadn’t grasped his shoulders and come harder than you had in literal decades. You weren’t sure if you remembered ever having felt the way he had made you feel in an embarrassingly short period of time, but also you weren’t sure what it meant, if anything. If this was just something that Joel did, how he kept himself busy at the end of the world. You didn’t want to be his distraction, and you didn’t want him to distract you, especially when you had so much to pointlessly worry about.  
You’d had boyfriends, one before outbreak day and two and a half in the years after. A lot of the time it was convenience, sometimes protection, but never passion. You’d read that during times of national crisis birth rates skyrocket and you’d never been able to understand why. Nothing about a brain-obliterating fungus was all that attractive to you. You wondered if what had happened with Joel was just about you finally feeling safe. If it was less Joel and more Jackson. You felt better about things, if that were true. You hoped it was.
You took the short walk to Maria’s, a tray of lasagne in your hands that you’d begged and borrowed at the mess to be able to make. There wasn’t any oregano or basil, so you just got generous with the salt and hoped for the best. You thought about your mum’s cooking, which wasn’t really all that great either. Her method was throwing Italian herb mix in to any pasta sauce in the hope that it would make it taste better than the sum of its parts. It rarely worked, but you couldn’t blame a girl for trying.
You stood on Maria’s porch, not sure if you should knock. You were worried about waking the baby, or waking Maria, or that the wrong Miller brother would be home. You worried that you wouldn’t be welcome, that you’d done too much at the birth, that you had overstepped in some way that you weren’t aware of but that would make it impossible for Maria to now be your friend.
Just as you were about to leave the lasagne on the front porch and make a break for it, the door swung open, and you were met with Tommy’s surprised face.
‘Umm, hi,’ you said, taking a step away from the doorstep without even noting. Tommy looked down at your hands, took the lasagne from you and put it gently on the console inside the door, then wrapped his arms tight around you and pushed all the air out of your lungs. You couldn’t even gasp in surprise.
‘You…’ he said, and he trailed off, and you felt the warmth and the comfort of his arms, and you suddenly thought you might cry. You pulled away, fast.
‘How are they?’ you asked, and Tommy beamed. Looking at him now, you realised he was absolutely exhausted, dark circles under his eyes.
‘Come see,’ he said, pulling you in and shutting the door behind you. You could hear humming, contented gurgling, and followed it into the lounge room. Maria was sitting up on the couch, son at her breast. She smiled when she saw you, and you looked down at the baby in her arms, and felt love physically enter your body.
‘Oh Maria,’ you whispered, and she grinned back at you.
‘I am so fucking tired,’ she stage-whispered, and you had to try hard not to laugh too loud. His little fist was balled up and resting on her chest, and you could see the tiny thumbnail, purple and deep red, and it was too small and too precious for the world around it.
‘I have to go…run an errand,’ Tommy said quietly from the doorway. ‘Will you two be OK?’
Maria waved him off.
‘I ran off the other night before I asked you his name,’ you said, coming to sit beside Maria so that she didn’t have to turn her head to talk to you. She leant into your shoulder, and it was peaceful and warm and the kind of thing you do with a good friend, and you wondered if she’d object to adopting you.
‘We were going to go with Joel Junior,’ she said, and you wrinkled your nose.
‘Too alliterative,’ you said, and she nodded.
‘Also still not convinced about him,’ she said, and you felt something shift in your belly.
‘He was good the other night, with Tommy.’
‘He saw a lot of me I never intended him to,’ Maria said, and your heart sank. Should you have got rid of him? He was there for Tommy, you realised, not Maria. Should you have objected, said something? Had Maria been trying to telepathically tell you to do something, and you missed it? ‘It’s OK,’ Maria said, sensing the way your body had tensed. ‘I wasn’t really paying much attention to him, in fairness.’
‘You were kind of busy,’ you agreed. You listened to the baby suckling quietly, little contented grunts coming from his throat. ‘So, it’s not Joel Junior,’ you prompted.
‘Robin,’ Maria said. ‘There are so many here in Spring, and I love their little songs.’
You reached a hand out to cup his head in your palm. ‘That’s perfect,’ you said. For a long moment you just watched him, the peace of him, so wrapped up and warm and safe in the arms of his mother. You ached for your own for a second, before you pushed the thought away, told yourself this wasn’t the time.
‘It feels different out there,’ Maria said. ‘I can even tell, and I haven’t left the house in days.’
‘Vibes aren’t great,’ you agreed.
‘Tommy’s worried, but he won’t tell me.’
‘The expedition is just taking longer than it should,’ you said. ‘If there was anything to tell I’m sure he would.’
Maria regarded you for a long moment, and you realised she wanted more answers, but you had none to give her.
‘He’s like Joel, like his big brother,’ Maria said eventually, and you felt heat up the back of your spine. ‘Protective,’ she added. ‘To the point of locking you out in the cold to save you from the monster under the bed.’
You kind of wished Maria would stop dropping truth bombs on you, then leave you to work through the rubble on your own. You walked the long way back to your place, down behind the hall and past the lake, just to see if you could push her words out of your body through your feet.
It meant that you arrived back on your front step just as the sun was setting, and you were surprised to see the lights in your house on. You were sure you wouldn’t have left them on in the daylight. You pushed the door open, trying to remember if you’d locked it. No one did in Jackson, but you liked to when you were going to bed, partly to believe that you could do anything that might prevent some kind of harm.
‘Hello?’ you called down your hallway, thereby alerting any potential attackers to your exact whereabouts. You rolled your eyes at yourself. Jackson had definitely made you soft.
There were no weapons in your entry way. You considered whether taking your boots off and throwing them would cause enough of a head injury to get away, but it would be harder in your socks. In Chicago you’d kept a baseball bat beside the door, and used it only once.
‘That you?’ you heard a voice call, and you paused. Were you ‘you’?
‘Maybe?’ you called back, and you heard two sets of laughs. One deep and huffy. You’d recognise it anywhere. Your feet moved all by themselves.
Joel and Tommy were standing in your treatment room. The broken table was gone, and in its place a brand new, clearly custom made, massage table stood. Thin enough so that you didn’t need to climb on top of it to rearrange the towels, and just the right shape to give a body a warm and safe place to rest.
Your hand flew to your mouth, and you felt tears pushing hot onto your cheeks. Tommy grinned at you while Joel watched, careful and reserved. You didn’t have words, could barely wrap your head around what you were seeing.
‘You helped so well with Maria, kept her going when anyone else would have quit,’ Tommy said, while you were trying hard to breathe. ‘You did so good, so we wanted to say thank you.’
You let out a gasping, gulping, tearful laugh, nodding your head at him. ‘That’s OK, you’re welcome,’ you said, but you were laughing and crying simultaneously, so it was hard to know if you’d made any sense.
‘It was Joel’s idea,’ Tommy said, smiling at his older brother, who promptly blushed and looked ready to murder him. ‘Come look,’ Tommy said, extending a hand towards you and pulling you by the arm further into the room.
The massage table had built-in padding under a leather cover, that was attached to the wood with studs along the edges. The leather had clearly been something else in a past life, the stitching haphazard and criss-crossing over the base, but you would cover it with towels anyway. You pushed a hand out and pressed down on it, finding it delightfully spongey, and soft. You wanted to lean down and put your nose to it, inhale the leather, the warm sunshine on swatches of yellow and green fields. Inhale a different life, an older one long passed.
‘And here, this is the headrest,’ Tommy said, continuing his tour. ‘It sits in its own little track carved in here, see? So you can remove it or slot it back into place. Maria said that’s what the proper tables used to have, so you could lie face down.’
You nodded, confirming that this was indeed true. You reached out and put your hands on it, let your fingers reach underneath to feel the joins in the wood. They were smooth, carefully crafted. You knew they were Joel’s, carried his strong but gentle touch, his precision, his care.
You gazed at him, completely blindsided by the craftmanship and the generosity. The moment hung in the air, the two of you watching each other. You wanted to tuck your head under his chin and cry into his chest, wanted to rip his shirt off him and shred it with your teeth so he could never wear anything ever again, wanted to hold his face in your hands and keep it, not let the moment pass, let your hands on his skin secure the warmth there, hold the look on his face, for eternity.
‘I should head back,’ Tommy said, and you pivoted immediately towards him and threw your arms around his neck. He laughed, wrapping his arms around you. ‘Now we’re square,’ he said, and you gurgled your acceptance.
After he left, you worried Joel would go, too. Worried that all of this had been obligation, had been at Tommy’s insistence, had been a way of winning Maria over. Worried at how badly you wanted him to stay, worried that it wasn’t just Jackson but that it was him, that it was always going to be him, and that right now every nerve ending was on fucking fire just because he was looking at you. You waited for him to grunt or nod at you and turn his back, but he stayed standing, his brows knitted together, one hand on his hip.
‘It’s beautiful,’ you said, because the tension was starting to mount now that Tommy had gone, and if he kept looking at you like that you were going to combust. Your voice wobbled, and you swallowed glue and razor blades to try and steady it. ‘Where did you get the leather?’
‘Found an old couch lying around, no bother,’ he said. His voice was low, like he thought you were going to run from the room, but in that moment you didn’t trust your legs. You nodded your head because words were failing you, but then suddenly you had too many of them, and they were all going to come out right now, all at once.
‘Its just that the massage table, I know it’s silly…but it was what I used to do before outbreak day, and it was kind of who I am or maybe I just think of it as that, but I just worry that if I don’t have anything to offer no one will keep me.’
Jackson. You’d meant to say you were worried they wouldn’t let you stay in Jackson. But that wasn’t at all what you’d said.
Joel took two steps forward, grabbing your face and rubbing at the tracks of tears on your cheek with one hand, the other snaking behind you to hold your back. You gasped, staring up into his brown eyes, the salt and pepper of his beard, the lower lip you wanted to nip with your teeth. You waited for him to say something, anything, but holding you was also enough. Under his patient gaze your breath slowed, you stopped feeling your heart thundering in your chest, felt your shoulders drop.
‘Joel…’ you whispered, and he was on you then, head dipping down to bite at the skin behind your ear, hand roaming over your hips to cup your bottom, grind you into him, where you felt him hard and heavy against your core.
‘Let me-‘ he started, but you stopped him, gripping him by the shoulder and pulling away.
‘No, let me,’ you said, suddenly bold under his wanting touch. ‘Table’s fixed now, so there’s no excuses.’
He cocked and eyebrow, blinking at you. ‘You want me on that?’
‘What’s the matter, don’t trust your craftmanship?’
‘Baby, a massage isn’t exactly what I-‘
‘Down to your boxers and face in the hole,’ you said, grabbing a towel from a nearby stack and putting it down on the leather.
‘You could at least help,’ he said, grumpy again, and you grinned happily at him.
‘I’ll step out and let you get ready,’ you said, in full-blown professional mode, just to fuck with him. He sighed, but he did as he was told, and you really fucking liked it, actually.
Once he was on the table you draped him, making sure he was comfortable. You rubbed your hands together to make them warm, then poured some cooking oil – the best substitute you’d found so far even if it did make the residents of Jackson smell like fried chicken – into your hands.
‘This might be cold, I’m sorry,’ you warned, and Joel grunted. You were glad he was face down so you didn’t have to see the expression on his face.
You started with his left leg, draping the towel over his hip and tucking it between his thighs. Straight away you could feel the tension there, the tightness of the calf, the hamstring ready to snap. You ran your hands in a vee-shape, thumbs tucked one over the other, up the back of his leg, stopping just below his glute, which you briefly considered leaning over and sinking your teeth into.
Joel’s skin was soft, and unbelievably hot to the touch, and you had to try hard to focus on what your hands were doing so that you could ignore the little whimpers, the little gasps, as you found and massaged away a knot. You ran your hands up the outside of his thighs, felt the muscles jump and tremor under you, dug your fingers into his hip flexors and heard him exhale, an almost sigh, as they released.
You got into trouble when you got to his back. You were aware of the fact that you were soaking your panties, worried that he would smell your arousal, worried that if he kept making noises like that you were going to drown yourself. You worked hard to keep your breath steady, remembered your lessons and imagined dousing yourself in freezing cold water, jumping from your back porch into the frozen lake below Jackson, hoping that might give you some relief.
The wide planes of his skin were marred by scars, by shadows of pain and hurt and memory. He carried a scar, an old one, on his right side, a graze that looked like a bullet, that you decided to ignore. As you pushed hard along his spine he grunted, the muscle seizing under your touch, and you worked against it, kneading at them like dough, lifting the fascia and breaking it down, working the adhesions, until it was buttery and smooth. You focused on Joel’s breath, saw the way his chest expanded as he inhaled, felt the enormous man, so scary and so gruff, so mean and so soft on the inside, gradually give in to you. You felt him relax, the tension leaving his shoulders as you worked them, careful to release the deltoid, to ease off the trapezius now that you could finally get at it properly.
You were tempted to leave him there, relaxed for maybe the first time in years, but you roused him, rolled him onto his back, put a folded-up towel under his head and another over his eyes to protect them from the light. With his face covered you could take your inventory of him. The scar on his right side, jagged and angry and new, the reason he’d been favouring it finally clear to you. The soft smattering of chest hair leading down to a light trail on his pelvis. The towel covering him, but not enough to hide the fact that he was hard, that he had tried to tuck his cock into the waistband of his underwear but that it was too thick, too long to stay fully hidden.
You moved up to his head, to his salt and pepper hair, and carded your hands through it, lifting his head and holding it in your fingertips. You watched as his eyebrows knitted together again, unsure, but then releasing, his mouth dropping open, as you heard his breath, ragged, escaping through his teeth.
‘Let me take care of you, baby,’ you whispered to him, right above his ear, mimicking what he had said to you on the coffee table, what had made you instantly wet and aching. You gazed down his body at the way his cock jumped. ‘Let me take care of this body.’
You let your fingers dig in a little to his scalp, a quiet little moan escaping him, the covering over his eyes giving him a sense of privacy as you unravelled him. You wanted to lean down and suck his bottom lip into yours, wanted to climb on top of him and sink your pussy onto his Roman nose. Wanted to come on his face and his fingers, wanted him to splash his come onto your chest.
‘This body that protects us,’ you whispered, leaning down and placing a kiss on his forehead, on his cheek beneath the towel. Putting his head back down and moving to massage his left arm, lifting it by the wrist and rubbing your hands over his bicep and onto his chest. He glistened, the oil mixing with his sweat under the overhead light, and you couldn’t stop yourself, then, couldn’t help but to bend and place a kiss on his clavicle, licking up to nip at his neck. You felt him shiver, a soft whimper escaping with his breath. You moved your hand from his wrist to his palm, held his hand with yours.
‘This body that serves us all so well,’ you said. ‘Let me take care of this body.’
He gasped when you kissed his belly button, licking and nipping down his happy trail to where his cock was now straining hard against the towel. You pushed it away, taking his cock out of his underwear and pulling them down on his hips, so that you got your first proper look at him.
As you expected he was thick, the veins on the underside pulsing, straining against his want for you. The head was so red it was almost purple, and you wondered how long it had been since a woman touched him like this, since he’d been touched at all. His hand grasped yours, the other fisting the towel underneath him.
When you slipped him into your mouth, inviting him into you, he groaned, grunted obscenities flowing from him. His cock was hot on your tongue, salty as he dripped pre-come into your throat. You kept your eyes on his face, his still covered, as his stomach rippled and his body tremored underneath you. With your other hand you steadied him, reaching up and holding the shaft while you bobbed, sucking hard on the head. You took a second to breathe, leaving little kitten licks on his frenulum, feeling his free hand let go of the towel and grip you by the hair.
‘Fuck, baby’ he grunted, his hips thrusting, pumping up into the air.
‘So strong, Joel,’ you said, before reattaching your mouth to him. He threw his head back, and you considered the irony of him breaking the brand-new table he’d built just for you by coming so hard he splintered the wood beneath him. His body was quaking, his hips bucking up into your wet, warm mouth and it was everything you had dared imagine it would be, right down to his gasping encouragement, down to his needy little whimpers that turned into moans of outright pleasure, of the feeling hot and electric right down to his toes.
‘Jesus, you’re gonna make me…’ he gasped, and you looked up at him, the towel having fallen from his eyes and him staring down at you between his legs, his hand on the back of your neck gentle and guiding, supporting the muscles as you worked him. You kept your eyes on his and your mouth on his cock as he shook, hips rolling, rutting against your pumping hand.
You slipped him from your mouth. ‘Just let go, baby. I got you,’ you said, covering him again as he did just that, shooting ropes of hot salt and desire across your tongue, holding your hand, groaning at the relief of it, at the release, and in that moment you had him, in that moment he was yours, gasping for breath and so soft and languid, looking down his body at you in awe and in wanting, sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat.
Taglist:
@orcasoul
@archofimagine
@hiroikegawa
@littlemisspascal
@ilovejoel-andjavi
@giggly-otter
@harrysrosetatto
@Hjzghi-blog
@daddy-dins-girl
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sailor-aviator · 1 day
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Hey.
Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.
So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.
I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.
Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.
I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.
Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.
The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.
How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.
Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.
Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.
Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.
To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.
Nothing but love,
Liz 💛
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mschoiyuki · 3 days
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Fragile
Nanami Kento x F!reader
Sometimes Nanami also had a bad day and you will always be there to comfort him.
tw : comfort. SFW
wc : 1.8k
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It’s pitch black when you arrive at home. It’s already 7pm and your husband hasn’t come home yet. That’s so unusual, Nanami always comes home before 6pm.
You switch all the lights up, puts away your belongings and get ready to make dinner. Your phone rings when you wash your hand. Nanami’s name pops up on the screen.
“Hey honey, not done with the mission yet?” You put on speaker so you can prepare the dinner.
“Hey, sweetheart. I think I’ll be a little late tonight. But I’ll be on my way home soon.” Nanami voice sounded a little bit ragged.
“What happened, Kento? Where are you now? Are you okay?” You pick up your phone and put it on your ear, biting your nails, pacing back and forth.
“I’m okay, just a little injured. I’m at Jujutsu High right now getting treatment from Ieiri - san. It’s nothing serious, darling. Stop biting your nails.” Nanami try to calm you down.
You pause and stop biting your nails, been together for too long makes Nanami knows your every little habits. “Do you want me to pick you up, honey?”
“Ijichi will send me home, don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” You can hear Nanami hiss from the treatment he gets from Ieiri.
“Okay, I’ll wait for you. Be safe, Kento.”
“I will, darling. Love you.”
“Love you too.” As you hung up the phone, you try to distract your mind from the news you just heard with trying to make dinner. It’s really so unusual for Nanami to get injured from work, because he is Grade 1 after all. Does it involve with the recent accident? You can’t stop biting your lips now as you try to making dinner.
Minutes turn to hours, when you hear the front door being open you run to greet Nanami. As soon as Nanami sees your face he still gives you smile. Then you see Nanami clutching his stomach, “How bad is the injury, Kento? Show it to me.”
“No welcome home kiss for me, sweetheart?” Nanami caress your cheek, still trying his best to hide his injury from you, he doesn’t want to make you worry.
You sigh and scowl at him, but still tip toeing to kiss his lips for his welcome home kiss, “Come on, let’s sit first and let me see the injury, Kento. I want to know how bad it is.” Nanami takes off his shoes and slips into the home slippers, he takes your hand and follows you to the kitchen.
You slowly sits Nanami on the bar stool, and starts unbuttoning his blue shirt carefully, you furrow your eyebrows when you see the big patch at Nanami’s right stomach. You reach his cheek and caressing it, “What happened, Kento? How did you get this wound? Is this has anything to do with the recent accident?”
Nanami slither his arms to your waist, bringing you closer to him, “Yes, it’s the same curse that does this. Itadori - kun and I finds the culprit, I told Itadori - kun I would handle it, but in the end he also saved me from the curse. The curse can perform Domain Expansion, and I trapped in it. Although I ashamed that I had a thought to give up. I’m sorry, darling.” Nanami looks up at you, his eyes glassy with the tears that forming.
“Why are you sorry, Kento? It’s okay. Don’t be sorry, we all know the risks as sorcerers.” You still caress his cheekbones, looking into his hazel eyes.
“I know that thoughts is hard for you, what if I really gave up and leave you alone?” Nanami tighten his grips on your waist.
“One of us could die from missions, we talked about this before. And yes, the grief is hard to handle. But it’s the risks we take as sorcerers, right? To save human from curses, even though they don’t know about it.”
“Yes, you’re right, darling. But the worst part is…” Nanami pause, and looks away from you.
You pull his face towards you, “What is it, honey?” You look into his eyes, searching something behind it.
Nanami let out a defeat sighs, “The worst part is, the transfigured human, that the culprit transformed human into curse, they still have a lingering feeling as human. They cried and asked help from me, darling. Ieiri - san said that we had to kill them, that’s the only way to help them. But it feels so wrong. I don’t know what the purpose of being a sorcerer if we have to kill human.”
You stare at Nanami with wide eyes, can’t believe with the information that he just shared to you. But one thing you know, Nanami is feeling torn and weak right now and he needs all the support from you. Because whenever you are feeling down from works or from other silly things, he will be there for you. He will give his all for you, his times, his attention, his love, just for the love of his live in a heartbeat. And you will also give everything for him too in a heartbeat, no doubt.
“Kento, I know you will choose a safe way to save them if there’s a way. But this is beyond our control and yes the only way to stop this is to defeat the culprit. Don’t be so hard on yourself, honey. I know you really try your best for them, and I know they must be thankful for you because you helped them, freed them from their misery. So don’t look on the negative side, because there’s also a good side from it. Isn’t it like we also help them as human, honey? Hm?” You wipe Nanami’s tears at the corner of his eyes before it can roll down.
Nanami place his hand on yours that caress his cheek, he leans in on your touch, “Yes, that’s may be right. I just can’t help this uneasy feeling.”
You sighs and smile, you peppered his face with kisses. His forehead, his temple, his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, and lastly his lips.
Nanami tighten his hold on your waist and chuckle, “What’s that’s for, darling?”
“To distract your minds.” You give him a quick kiss on his lips again, “Despite everything that happened you’re doing good, Kento.”
Nanami sighs and hug you tightly. You kiss the crown of his head and lean your cheek on it. One hand rubbing his back and the other caressing his scalp.
“Go take a bath, Kento. Should I help you?” You pull away and check his wound again.
“It’s okay, darling. I can manage it.” Nanami slowly stand up and groan from the pain, you hold his hand to support him. Nanami kiss your temple and head to bathroom. And you start plating the dinner for both of you.
While you wait for Nanami done with his shower you prepare his pajamas and brings a new patch, walking to the bathroom sitting at the vanity holding the hair dryer
When Nanami walks out from the shower holding the towel around his hips and another towel at his head and sees you waiting for him, he chuckles and ruffling his hair.
“Come, Kento. Let me dry your hair so you won’t catch a cold.” You pat the gap between your thighs, ushering him to come close.
“I’m so lucky to have you, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’ve become if I’m alone now.” Nanami stand between your thighs and place his hands on it, rubbing your thighs slowly.
“I’m always here for you, Kento. Through ups and downs. Isn’t that our vow?” You smile and ruffle his hair with towel and starts drying it with hair dryer, sometimes gives his scalp a massage.
“All done. Handsome as ever.” You giggle and give him a quick peck in his lips.
Nanami leans his forehead to yours and reach your cheek, “Yes, darling. Through thick and thin. In sickness and health. Thank you for coming into my life.” Nanami graze his lips with yours and he gives you a slow, deep kiss. As he pulls aways he gives your forehead another kiss.
Is it because Nanami coming home with a wound or the atmosphere is making you mellow, his words makes your heart tingle, “Now let’s change the patch. I know Shoko - san gives you the best treatment for you so I don’t have to worry, but we still need to change the patch, right?”
You jump down and tells Nanami to leans on the sink and you slowly peel the patch and grimace when you see his wound. You apply another ointment before wrapping it with a new patch, “I already bring your pajamas. I’ll wait for you at dining room.” You kiss his cheek and walk out from the bathroom.
Dinner went well and both of you decide to rest since today is a little bit chaotic for you and Nanami. The worrying tired you out, and the fight and wound also drained Nanami's energy.
Nanami groan when he lay down, he stretch his arm to you so you can lay with him. You carefully lay on his chest and put your hand on it.
Nanami let out a long relieve sighs and tighten his grip on your arm, "I really glad that Itadori - kun saved me. Even though I know the risk as sorcerers, I still want to spend my life with you." You looks up at Nanami and find him gazing at you with his usual loving eyes.
"Don't say something negatives, Kento. I don't want to imagine it. I just glad that you are coming home safely." You propped yourself up on your elbow.
“Should we just retire and go to Kuantan, darling? Enjoying the beach there. Sounds good?” Nanami caressing your back, giving you an apologetic look for saying something to makes you worry like that.
“You think Gojo will let you retire so early?” You chuckle as you brush his hair with your hand.
“Well he is the strongest, I think he can manage it. Thank you for today. You are the best thing that I ever had, my love.”
“I’ll always have your back, Kento. Like how you always there for me.”
“I love you, sweetheart.” Nanami pulls you down so he can give you a kiss, a slow deep kiss that he always give you to remind you how much he loves you.
"I love you too, Kento. More than anything." You slightly pull away and mutter the words, you lean in again to kiss him and you can feel Nanami smiling against your lips.
From the outside Nanami might looks so strong and reliable, but deep inside you know Nanami has a very soft and fragile heart. That's why you will be always there for him whenever he feels down, just like how he will always be there for you when you are at your worst.
Even though it's just a small gesture, Nanami really thankful for you being there for him. Because he can feel your love through your small actions.
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dividers by : @saradika-graphics
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heauxvibez · 2 days
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Kissing On My Tattoos
warning: eehh, naur warning. Maybe just a sprinkle of a moan in there, but nothing harmful :)
Roman texting you while you're on a date has never been out of the ordinary. Especially if you had no interest in the guy.
A smile lit up Roman's face every time his phone buzzed, knowing it was a message from you, signaling that you weren't enjoying yourself.
Baby Girl💕: Can you come pick me up when he drops me off?
Biting his bottom lip, Roman typed the following words,
Sure thing baby girl. Just let me know when you get home.
His brown eyes brightened, he couldn't wait to see you. Just the thought of you made his heart race which he hated but loved at the same time. He just wanted to have fun. But you, oh, you yearned for something deeper, something more profound, especially with him.
When he confessed his attraction for you but made it clear he wasn't ready for anything serious, it broke you, leaving a bittersweet ache in your heart. Yet, you understood. Some people couldn't fathom the idea of commitment. And Roman, he was one of them.
He did put an offer on the table though, he put forth the idea of ya'll becoming friends with benefits. No strings attached whatsoever.
You were very hesitant and you thought about the offer for at least 2 weeks. You were putting your feelings on the line and knew it wasn't worth it but you really wanted to be with him. And if that was the only way you could have him, then so be it.
It's been 3 months since you've agreed and to be honest, you have enjoyed it. Besides the fact that Roman always.. and I mean always flirted with other girls in front of you. But hey, that's what you signed up for.
Before you knew it, you were dipping your toes into the waters of other men's attention. After all, if Roman was playing the field, why shouldn't you? The plan was simple: keep him around until someone else came along who truly made you feel the way he did.
Roman had picked up on it. Your absence hadn't gone unnoticed, not with you off on dates with other guys. And weirdly enough, he was feeling... jealous? Roman had never really been the green-eyed type, but lately, something was stirring inside him. He knew he shouldn't be, given he'd been messing around with other girls while fooling around with you. But still, that twinge of envy lingered.
He wanted you all to himself, plain and simple. Yeah, he knew it was selfish and unfair, but that's just how he felt, and nothing could shake that.
Lately, he'd been keeping his distance from the other girls he'd been seeing. It was like he was slowly cutting ties with them, realizing that his heart belonged to you and you alone.
Slipping into a black tee and his favorite Nike sandals, Roman checked his phone after getting a text from you.
Your date didn't go as planned, and now all you wanted was for Roman to bring back that smile to your face.
___
"Thanks for picking me up Ro, tonight was horrible.."
You collapsed onto his bed, sprawling out on your stomach. His scent enveloped you, his cologne mingling with the familiar smell of his sheets. You melted into the mattress, feeling completely at ease. Your muscles relaxed, and so did your mind. It was pure bliss.
He settled on the edge of the bed near your feet, releasing a heavy sigh.
"No problem, baby."
Internally, you melted. When he called you baby, it sent shivers down your spine, but you quickly reminded yourself that you probably weren't the only one he called that.
Before long, he was stretched out beside you, shirtless now. He propped his hands behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling. His mind seemed to be wandering, lost in a swirl of thoughts.
He couldn't bear the thought of anyone else having you, touching you, holding you, kissing you...None of it. The idea alone made him want to scream in frustration.
You noticed the look on his face.
"What's wrong?"
You hopped onto his lap, settling with your legs on either side, facing him.
"Nothing..."
"Don't lie to me."
He grinned and his hands found their way to your thighs. Instantly, your skin prickled with goosebumps, a familiar sensation whenever he touched you. Your body responded in ways that defied explanation or words.
He licked his lips, nearly making you squeal with anticipation.
"It's...just that I don't like seeing you with other men. It drives me absolutely in-fucking-sane," he expressed sternly. You could tell by the look of his face, he was serious. In fact, it almost felt like you were in trouble just from the way he looked at you.
Holding back a smirk you said,
"Well, I don't like seeing you with other women, but you're the one who came up with this Friend With Benefits crap,"
"I know, I know.." he sighed, running a hand over his bearded face.
"So, what are we going to do?" you asked. You honestly enjoyed this. He was finally giving in to his feelings.
His hands lazily trailed up and down your silky skin, relishing in the way you responded to his touch, your breath catching in your throat.
"We're going to be together because the thought of you being with someone else is eating me up on the inside,"
You awed him, grasping his hands in your own and placing them above his head. Leaning forward, you captured his lips with yours. The kiss was laced with a passion you've never felt before. You both took your time exploring each other's mouths, tongues fighting for dominance before he finally won.
As Roman's tongue teased a sensitive spot in your mouth, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan, feeling a warmth pooling between your thighs.
Planting kisses along his shoulder, you traced the inked patterns on his skin, marveling at the details they whispered about his culture, his life.
When you found that sweet spot, he groaned, his grip on your hand tightening as you continued to hold them above his head.
"Baby.." he whispered breathlessly as you sucked on his sweet spot. You showed no mercy, nibbling and sucking until he was putty in your hands. Every stroke of your tongue against his inked skin sent shivers coursing through his body.
"Now, we aren't going to be together just because you say so. I really want you to drop those women, all of them. Prove to me that you want me and only me.." you murmured against his neck before sitting up, meeting his gaze head-on.
Roman pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes squinting slightly.
"Okay...I will."
Lightly slapping his chest, you glared.
"I'm serious, Roman. You're playing games and I'm not down with that anymore. I'm through being fuck buddies. Either you give me all of you or nothing at all."
Roman sat up, encircling his arms around your waist, pulling you close. He rested his forehead against yours, his desire burning beyond the physical; he wanted to claim you as his own. You were the only one who stirred these feelings within him, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you just to play the field.
He was a fool for your pretty eyes and that smile. How'd he expect himself not to fall?
"I'm not lying, baby. I promise, I will drop them all for you."
He brushed his fingertips along the curve of your cheek, his minty breath teasing your lips as he inched closer.
"I don't have to worry about another woman's lips on your body?" you questioned, a hint of uncertainty in your eyes.
He tenderly kissed your lips, catching you off guard for a fleeting moment.
"Nope. I don't want nobody but you kissin' on my tattoos, baby girl.." he whispered, then leaned in to place a kiss on your temple.
---------------
Hope y'all enjoyed this small little one shot!
And please go read my last two one-shots if you haven't already. I enjoyed writing them and want you to enjoy reading them! Love ya'll, Muah!
Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi @msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @mzv11 @wrestlingprincess80 @saintmagx
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danikamariewrites · 3 days
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I have a Flynn request! There definitely aren’t enough out there for our crescent city males. Lol reader is out with friends at a bar and really drunk. She gets separated from her friends and some guy is really creeping her out and won’t leave her alone. She texts/calls Flynn to come get her.
My First Call
Tristan Flynn x reader
A/n: I HAVE FINALY FINISHED CC3 and Flynn absolutely deserves love bc it seems like he’s the only single Pringle left I volunteer as tribute
Warnings: drunk reader, aggressive behavior (not the frat pack), and not proof read sorry
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Wobbling through the club on numb limbs you were jostled by the crowd of swaying bodies. Your mouth was dry but you were craving another fruity-vodka cocktail. As you made your way back to the table your friends were currently inhabiting this evening you tripped a little.
Only two of them were left. The other three having bailed earlier thanks to their work schedules. Who even makes their employees come in on a Friday for a holiday weekend? A crime honestly.
A male had joined the table, too busy flirting with Marcy to notice your presence. Taylor, your other friend, had noticed you cautiously walking back. “Hey,” she says enthusiastically with a small giggle at your drunken demeanor. You giggle back, falling into her arms.
“I want another drink.” Your words coming out as one long sound. Taylor just laughed in response. “I think you need to go home.” You groan at the blonde before remembering your bestest friends are waiting at home. The guys were probably still up. Either playing video games or having a house party in honor of the long weekend.
“Ok. Marcy! Come on.” Taylor commanded. Marcy gave the male one last kiss on the cheek with a look that promised she’d call him. She never called though. She just liked attention and free drinks. What pretty girl doesn’t though?
Letting out a sigh you move from Taylor’s protective grasp. Turning your back on your friends you start to move toward the exit. At least what you think is the exit. The crowd is definitely thinning out. Pushing open a door with peeling paint and rusty hinges you find yourself in a dimly lit alley. At either end is a bustling main street of Lunathion.
“Fuck,” you mutter. Looking from side to side you can’t remember which end of the alley the club entrance would be. “Fuck.” You say a little louder.
Letting out a sigh you start walking to the left, hoping to find your friends. Coming out on the sidewalk you notice a fancy restaurant and a closed cafe. Some business entrances, a bank, then the fanciest hotel in the city. The warm lights of the Regent of Lunathion looked so inviting. Plus they have comfy armchairs to wait in.
You start heading down the street in the direction of the regent. Now that you’re out in the chilly night air and not in the dark, crowded club consuming alcohol your body starts to ache. You hug your arms to your chest, cursing yourself for not bringing a sweater. Your chunky platform heels start to feel heavy with every step you take. The blisters starting to form on the back of your ankles and toes have you stepping gingerly.
Heavy footsteps quickly approach that have you tensing. Hoping it’s just someone on a late night run that will pass you. You move over slightly to not just be in the middle of the sidewalk. Runners in this city get pissy about that.
But it’s not a runner. No, something worse. A male in dark jeans and hoodie falls into pace beside you. “Hey,” he starts, “what’s a pretty lady like you doin’ wanderin’ the city alone?” You roll your eyes, not caring about the consequences. You wouldn’t have been able to hold the annoyed expression back anyway. “I’m not. I’m with my friends.”
The male looked around the almost empty street. “Really? Because I don’t see them.” “Yup.” You reply dryly. Urd, can’t males take a hint these days? “I’m meeting them.” A lie you were sure he saw through but didn’t care. You would say anything to get him away from you. “Well what bar are you going to? I know a short cut,” he says seductively, trying to grab for your arm.
You move quicker than the both of you expect. The situation sobering you up. You looked at him with bewildered eyes. “No!” You scream at the top of your lungs. Passersby staring for a moment before looking away and walking a little faster. Cowards.
Before the male can say anything you book it down the rest of the way to the Regent. The doorman, an elderly human man, gives you a curious look. Your words stick to the tip of your tongue. Not knowing how to form your plea for help as the alcohol still rushes through your system.
You look back down the street. The male looking pissed as he storms up to you. The doorman notices, an angry look now on his kind face. “Head inside miss. And please make yourself at home until your ride is here.” You rush past him with a grateful look. Pulling out your phone, ignoring the texts from your friends, you immediately go to Flynn’s contact and pressing the call button.
he answers in one ring. “Hey sweetheart,” his smooth voice relaxing you as you sink into the plush armchair. “Flynn, can you come get me. I’m a little lost.” From his sharp inhale you could tell he was trying to hide his laugh. “I’m already on my way. Taylor called me five minutes ago.” You let out a sigh of relief. “Wait, how do you know where I am?” “I have your location, sweetheart.” You can hear the smile in his voice.
Urd you love that smile. So suave but genuine. “Only for you,” he’d say with a wink that always made you blush like crazy. It was no secret you have a crush on the lordling. And Ruhn would argue that Flynn had a bigger one on you. Why neither of you had made a move yet was beyond everyone.
The male walked past the window of the lobby staring daggers at you. Your eyes went wide as you remembered why you were in the hotel lobby. “Can you hurry? There was a guy following me and I just wanna go home.” The silence on the other end of the line was deafening.
Flynn gripped the steering wheel so hard his tanned knuckles turned white. “I’m one minute away.” He stepped on the gas, just barely making the light before it turned red. He kept talking to you as he flew down the street. Telling you everything he saw before pulling up to the Regent.
Throwing the car in park, Flynn throws his door open. Passing the doorman he nodded at Flynn with a small smile. “She’s to the left.” “Thank you.”
Seeing you curled up in the chair clutching your phone like it was a life line made hims heart clench. You looked like a lost child. Flynn knelt in front of you taking your hand in his. “Hey sweetheart,” he coos, “ready to go?” It took you a moment to realize who was in front of you. Once it clicked you smiled widely at Flynn.
“Hey,” you drawl. Your exhaustion catching up with you. Flynn smiled back you. Overjoyed to see you unharmed. “Yeah let’s get outta here.” He stands to help you up but you just give Flynn a pout and doe eyes. “Will you carry me? My shoes hurt.” “Of course.”
He knelt back down to unbuckle your ridiculous shoes, holding them in one hand while scooping you to his chest with his other arm. Letting out a deep sigh you lazily wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, snuggling into his neck.
Flynn’s heart soared. He held you tighter, basking in your warmth and scent. Though he could smell the alcohol, that strawberry and honey scent he loves so much is still prominent to him. “I got you, sweetheart.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.
Gently placing you in the passenger seat and bucking you in Flynn breathed a sigh of relief. You were safe. Climbing in the car himself he quickly sends a text to Taylor letting her know you’re fine. The drive home seemed long but he didn’t care. Anything to spend time with you.
Your hand grasps his resting on the gear shift. You look at him, your lids heavy. Finally pulling up to the house Flynn looks down at you. “Thank you for getting me. My knight in shining armor.” Flynn blushes as he squeezes your hand. He brings your hand to his lips, pressing soft kisses across your knuckles. “I’ll always come get you. No matter where you are, sweetheart.” You give him a tired smile before your eyes fully close.
Carrying you inside, Flynn tucks you in making sure to take out your hair clips. He even takes your makeup off, gently scrubbing at your face. Just as he sets a glass of water down and a tonic for your headache in the morning, you stir slightly. Flynn froze as he saw you squinting at him. “Will you stay? Please?” You mumble.
“Sure, sweetheart.” You turn to face the side of the bed Flynn makes himself comfortable. He sits on top of the covers, leaning against the propped up pillows. Once he sits you instantly fall back to sleep knowing your safe.
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oceansssblue · 2 days
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Pairing: Platonic Therapist Echo and Omega.
Theme: Hurt/Comfort
I don't have an exact sentence, but this happens after Season 3 Episode 8. Omega expresses that she endured worse on Kamino than on Tantiss. Much worse.
During a subsequent talk between Omega and Echo, Omega alludes to how dark, and horrific, her past on Kamino is.
I understand if you're unsure about doing this, but I would absolutely love it if you did.
Non romantic oneshots aren't really my thing, but this request did lit up interesting ideas in my head, so why not?
One angsty heartfelt conversation with these two sweethearts coming right up, & some comfort too!
Hope it is what you imagined!
Xx,
Sky.
"QUIET NIGHTS"
TBB REQUESTS –NON ROMANTIC ECHO&OMEGA 📩💔💖
WARNINGS: REFERENCES TO DARKNESS, LONELINESS, KAMINO&TANTISS&ECHO'S TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCE. TECH LIVES BECAUSE I SAY SO.
It was one of those quiet nights. Crosshair was out on a date. Tech had dissapeared with Phee hours ago; Hunter had quickly retired to his bunk after experiencing a strong migraine, and Wrecker was sound asleep too. However, Omega couldn't find her own sleep; and quickly taking a glance at his brother's room, he saw that Echo couldn't either.
Her naked toes quietly advanced in the direction of the cockpit. There he was; Echo sitting in the copilot's seat and staring distractedly through the window, out to the stars on Pabu's peacefull night. By the expression on his face, Omega knew his mind felt anything but that; Echo's frown transforming his features into something painfull. She wondered if he was having nightmares too.
"Bad memories?" She quietly asked, jumping onto the pilot seat besides him.
Echo sighed, still staring at the stars.
"Yeah" was his only quiet answer, and Omega gave him time.
She thought on her own nightmares for several minutes; trying to reorganize her thoughts.
"Are you having trouble sleeping after Tantiss?" Echo then asks, finally turning in his chair to pay her undivided attention.
Omega shrugs.
"Kinda".
Echo's features fill with sympathy.
"Must have been horrible, being trapped in there" Echo shudders, remembering his own experiences with closed spaces.
To his surprise, Omega shrugs again.
"Not really" she answers, strangely unbothered. "I mean, it's not like I wanted to be there... But I've had it much worse".
Echo stares at her, and Omega feels like she needs to explain herself. Her feet come up to rest on the edge of the seat, chin resting on top of her knees. She's unconsciously making herself small.
"Kamino. That was worse than everything".
Silence fills the room.
Echo frowns. He had had his own fair of bad experiences with the long-necks and the way he and his brothers were treated; but that being worse than being on Imperial control?
"How so?" He carefully asks.
Omega's answer breaks his heart.
"Loneliness. My days in Kamino were dark and challenging; same in Tantiss. But at least while staying in Tantiss I knew I had you, even if you weren't there. In Kamino, before I met you all..." she pauses and flinches with the memories of her past. "I didn't have that. Didn't have the knowledge that you'd be waiting for me, looking for me. That I had someone on my side. That someone cared. That I wasn't alone. In Tantiss I remembered all the happy memories I had with you all. It gave me hope. In Kamino... It was terryfying being so alone".
Omega hadn't meant to say as much; but once she had started talking, the words had flied out of her mouth. Echo's patient and listens carefully; eyes filling with understanding and left hand slowly extending towards her. When it lands on her shoulder and squeezes gently, Omega relaxes and sighs. Her big eyes turn back towards him.
"Did you..." she hesitates. "Did you feel alone when you were with the Techno Union, Echo? Or you... didn't feel anything at all?"
Echo's experience has always been a banned theme of conversation in the Marauder; but Omega asks with no malice, almost begging for someone to understand her, and Echo feels like she's revealed so much of her own feelings and thoughts he kinda owes it to her. He loves her sister so much... If sharing trauma will make her feel better and help her process her memories best, he'd tell her anything she asked for.
"I did, yeah" the tremble that breaks througj his body at remembering is inevitable. "I wasn't conscious all the time, but in the middle of the dizzyness and confussion, i remember being scared and terrified. I didn't understand what was happening most of the time. Sometimes I did. I just wanted to go back to my brothers, out of that... Thing, to be freed. To be me. Loneliness is one of the worst feelings in the world, yes."
It somehow soothes some internal part of him, speaking it out loud. Maybe this conversation will serve them both good.
Omega reaches out and mimicks his previous gesture; squeezing his shoulder gently.
"I'm sorry you had to go through all that, Echo. I'm so happy I have all of you now..." her voice is soft and reverent.
Sadness dissappears from Echo's eyes. He looks at her; at how her features have morphed from a kid's to a teenager and then continued changing to a young woman. They're lucky to have her.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that too, Meg" he answers, quietly, gently.
He gives her a small smile, and stands up offering his hand to her.
"How about we both try to nap together, troublemaker?"
Omega smiles. It feels him with warmth.
"Alright" she agrees, slipping her hand onto his and walking with him in the direction of the bunk room. "A pair of hours is better than none. Cross won't be happy we invade his bed for the night, though".
Echo snorts.
"The motherfucker still complains about his perfectly comfortable bed when he's well aware I still sleep in a hammock" he mutters, then grins at her. "He'll be alright".
THE END.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Pretty short but I didn't feel the need to expand it longer. Feelings everyonee. Hope you liked it!
Xx,
Sky.
PS. cryptic pregnancy w Hunter coming up next!
Back to my main masterlist here:
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fixfoxnox · 1 day
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Summary: Just a short little thing I wanted to write since my back is hurting again (which naturally means Roach's back is hurting again). This is technically a mini-sequel to Replacement, which I wrote a long while ago, but you don't have to read that to understand this! Enjoy!
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"This is it," Roach groaned, feeling pain shoot up his spine as he shifted, "I'm done for. I love you both, split my items amicably. Make sure the worlds best son mug goes to Eddie, just to see Johnathan pout about it."
There was a small laugh from next to him, "You're not dying bug."
"Besides," Ghost chimed in from the other half of the room, "you wouldn't be dead for long, I'll drag your ass up from hell. No getting rid of me that easy." He didn't look up from his stack of paperwork.
"You would force me back i to a world of suffering and pain?!"
"You're being dramatic," Soap chimed. He took Roach's hand in his own, rubbing circles onto his skin with his thumb. "You've just thrown your back out again. Dr. Sanchez said you'll be fine in a day or two."
"My own boyfriend, doubting the depth of my suffering." Roach threw his head to the side dramatically, only to groan again as the movement jostled his back.
The heating pack he had on was helping a bit, but it couldn't erase all of the pain he was feeling. Not even the Tylenol could really help with that. It was just something his body would have to deal with and fix on its own. Just as it had caused the problem on its own.
On the bright side of things, Roach had the privilege of being doted on by his darling boyfriends for a few days. The two hadn't been willing to leave his side after his rather dramatic moment of his back trying to kill itself.
He'd just bent down to pick up his dropped keys, then the moment he'd started to rise back up and there had been a shooting burning pain down his spine. The pain continued on, flooding down through his legs until it felt like it was at the tips of his toes. His knees had given out then, and before he'd even had time to realize that for himself, both Soap and Ghost were at his side checking on him.
"Why do I have to have these issues?" Roach gave a whine, finally done with his dramatics. At least for the moment. "I'm not that old yet!"
Soap gave another laugh and moved into Roach's side, cuddling up to him with his head on his chest. "You know thats not why your back does this."
Roach gave a huff, "You get hit by a car one time and now you've got to deal with lifelong back problems." He shook his head, "Sick and fucking twisted."
Soap gave a small hum and Roach knew the man was likely agreeing with him. After all, Roach knew that Soap had his own issues and recurring pain with his shoulder. He remembered well enough the panic he'd felt when Soap had taken a bullet to the shoulder. Then the panic that came after that when months after healing Soap had a few days where even lifting the limb slightly would cause him pain.
Ghost didn't say anything, but Roach figured the man dealt with much of the same issues as them. He was certainly better at hiding it, but Roach always noticed when he was favoring one leg over the other or would give a wince under that mask because he'd stepped a bit wrong.
It was part of the job. Roach knew that, and he knew that they were all lucky to have only those slight problems, rather than lost limbs like Alex and Jackson, or worse like the many men he'd seen fall in battle before him.
He gave a final sigh, deciding that it would be more beneficial to just enjoy the warmth of his boyfriend next to him rather than complaining further. He needed to take the opportunity to relax anyway. And what an opportunity this was.
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Bonus:
"So are you guys gonna blow my back out like you did the last time I was bedridden or what?"
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hiiii!!!
can we pls get the first time arthur says i love you to the reader
love your writing btw!
he didn't mean to say it.
...
lie.
he did mean to say it.
everytime he looked at her or caught just the slightest glimpse of her in his peripheral, he would feel his chest tighten or he would feel his heartbeat increase everytime she stood near him. everytime he heard her voice, nothing else seemed to matter to him and his interest in a current conversation would disappear when he realised she was close by. everytime he touched her, he felt sparks course through his body.
he just didn't mean to say it in that specific moment.
he was on a twitch stream, because he'd felt he had neglected that form of content for a while, with planet zoo loaded up on his screen. chatting away and answering questions that came in from those that were watching, thanking people for their donations and waffling on about what his day had been like and what he'd been up to.
and it never bothered yn, really. she loved the peace and quiet that it gave her. an hour or two by herself, cosied up on his sofa with a series or a documentary on netflix playing in the background or stretched out in his bed as she scrolled on her tiktok app and waited for him to come and join her. sometimes, she even watched his streams so she could enjoy his content without being in the room. she understood what his worklife entailed, she understood his work schedule and she never wanted to get in the way because it was important to him.
with a cup of tea in her hand, one of his old hoodies hanging down her figure and a pair of tube socks on her feet to keep her toes warm from the wooden floor of his flat, she knocks on his door tentatively and waits to hear some form of invitation to come in... which never had her waiting long. peeking her head through the door, holding tight to her cup of tea, her face is illuminated by the gentle light of his lamp in the corner of the room that he always used when streaming or filming his videos. headphones on his head and covering his ears, hand wrapped around his mouse, attention turning from the screen before him towards the doorway.
"you okay?"
"i'm heading to bed. had a busy day today and i was falling asleep on the sofa," she informs him warmly and he nods his head back in response, "might be asleep, might not be, but i just wanted to warn you."
"okay," he smiles softly and in that moment, he forgot what he was doing and where he was, "do you need anything?"
"no, i'm okay. i'm sure i can find whatever i need if i need it."
"okay, i won't be much longer anyway. been on for an hour," he laughs softly and she takes a sip of her tea before swallowing back the warm liquid, "i think i've left an old t-shirt on the bed for you. if not, have a look through the wardrobe."
"okie dokie," she nods, "enjoy the rest of the stream."
"will do," he looks back at his screen, looking at the comments and the live chat that was coming through before diverting his attention back to where yn was still stood in the door, "let me know if you can't find what you need."
"arthur, i've been here more than once. i know where you keep my toothbrush," she giggles and he can feel the heat flush over the curve of his cheeks, "your subs need you back."
"alright, i'll be through soon. i love you," and it flows off of his tongue so effortlessly. without much thought. and it takes her back, with his sudden admission, and her eyes widen in his direction and meet his matching widened eyes, "uhm-"
"i love you too," she whispers and the grin on his face was wide and large and toothy, "see you in a bit."
when the door closes and he turns his attention back to the stream, he doesn't quite know what to do with himself. he wants to end his stream with a goodbye and a promise to come back the following week to continue his planet zoo saga but a part of him wanted to act as if it was a common occurrence to exchange their love and that his stream could go a little longer... except his comments were far from oblivious to what had happened.
'arthur definitely just accidentally told her he loved her. omg'
'did we just see the first i love you's?????'
'whipped'
'this is so cute!!!!!'
"chat, i think i need to call it a night," he informs them, saving any of his progress he had made on his game and closing up the window, a smile toying with his lips, "i think we'll make this is a regular thing. in between filming videos. keep an eye on the discord. and my social medias."
'someone make editssss!!! we need them!!!!'
'he's sooooo gonna repost all the edits made for them'
'arthur has a girlfriend? whaaaat?'
"thanks for joining me tonight. it was fun. planet zoo is my favourite game to play at the moment and if you want to see more, head over to george clarkey's channel for a video of me and the other arthur playing it with him," he moves the cursor of his mouse over the button to end the stream, "see you guys later. bye."
he's quick from his chair as soon as the stream ends. turning off his computer, taking off his headphones and setting them on his desk, and standing to his feet, leaving anything unimportant behind as he could always come back and get it if he needed it. turning off the lamp, exiting the room and closing the door behind him, and he can feel the anticipation bubbling in his stomach and rising up to his chest.
his bedroom door is ajar and he can feel the nerves making his arms and legs shake and the sound of her scrolling her tiktok made it clear to him that she was still awake and had every intention of waiting for him to come to bed with her. something he'd become a lover of over the last few weeks when he asked her to stay.
"i know you're there."
"i'm just-"
"why are you going all shy?" she questions and he plucks up enough courage to step foot into his bedroom, ruffling his fringe with his fingers and letting the strands stand in all directions, "don't go all soft on me now, mister television."
"i'm not," he looks at her and he just wants to melt under her gaze, "i just, i had a more elaborate and better way of telling you than doing it on stream."
"i thought it was cute," she admits and he shook his head, "seriously, arthur. you just, sort of just, blurted it out and i think that's sweeter than any kind of planned out night. it's a very you thing to do."
he joins her on the bed, laying down on his side beside her, propping his head up with his hand. and she rolls over to match his position, a grin on her mouth, a hand coming up to cup his face with fingers ready to brush across his cheeks.
"i do love you," he says, "so much. the last few weeks have been the best and my most favourite few weeks. just, getting to know you and getting to spend time with you and learning more about you on a deeper level."
"i love you too," she reiterates, scooting over on the bed and letting his arms wrap around her, holding her close to his chest, "so much." xx
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to be transparent, I enabled tipping on this blog bc Im like....cataclysmically broke and lightly desperate. feel free to ignore it, but I would be incredibly grateful for anything anyone kicked my way xoxo
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I saw the "#is there yaoi in the arakawa family" tag basically right as it popped up in the notes and was also left completely dead on the pavement, but honestly? As someone who is wholly and irrevocably AraSawa-pilled (whether said pill is red or blue in color is up to interpretation...), it's objectively SO much funnier if they're just Like That. I love your comics on the topic!
There's also some element of this post I saw earlier I think, divorced from the sexual context since it's not really relevant to what I want to talk about (you'll just have to bear with me there I guess lol, can't help what the post says). It's also still pretty melodramatic applied to them (even for me) when it chiefly is just. Hilarious. But what I'm trying to say is that, taking a more serious approach, "unresolved potential" is such a compelling and central recurring beat here, so what's one more instance?
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I guess that post kind of presupposes that there is or could be yaoi, but I think it's kind of like. The concept of "yuri of absence." But with dads. Like that's along the lines of the emotion things like the pair of armchairs on the second floor of Jo's office evokes in me. Honestly I think this particular ask is probably one of the least intelligible I've sent and I'll probably regret it. But. It's. They're married. But they're not. But They're Married. BUT THEY'RE NOT. But th
after meeting with The Arakawa Family Council the verdict i bring to everyone today on Is There Yaoi In The Arakawa Family is:
Well,
#fave#snap chats#OK BUT NO I FEEL LIKE I AGREE TOTALLY#like it really is... indescribable.... like what's going on here... because it's definitely something..... but not THAT but????#yeah they're married but i don't think they know that.#like its different from the married/divorced energy between kashiwagi and kazama yk what i mean#it's like. when hummingbirds co-evolve with flowers right.#like they just ACCIDENTALLY co-exist perfectly with each other after being around each other so long#like it infinitely is better if its just limbo situation where its like. What Do We Even Label This As. Should We. Do We.#cause again it's infinitely funnier if this all happens and they arent the slightest bit aware#desperately need a montage of arakawa and jo just being in really domestic situations together#but like. with the most This Isn't Anything Serious energy right#like ichi running into the office and jo and arakawa are just having a cute lil candlelit dinner#and ichi just Oh Is This Like... A Thing... but neither of them blink arakawa just wanna know what ichi wants like :)?#thank you for enjoying my comics on the idea though it's really fun walking the line between Being Serious and just Being Silly#i need to make more... but im so busy.... ill just rotate them in my head for now#ill just rb my old faves on the idea lmao#like its funny to toe being For Real bout it if not so i can make more silly slice of life manga parodies#i think itd just be funny if jo experiences human emotion for the first time and its in the most awkward situation imaginable#yk. the drama of it all its so goofy#ohhh but i dont wanna write my silly essay about them.. not now anyway... i do enjoy them immensely tho.#in case that wasn't evident. i'll ramble about them in another post of mine im sure :)#but yes thank you for your input i was hoping you'd come around LMAO i needed that peer review#and im glad- as per usual- we came to the same conclusion. We Don't Know.#edit: in review as it turns out its not old man yaoi its old man yuri. thats my final answer im locking it in
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chesthighwater · 11 months
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by thé way. wips roundup that absolutely no one asked for
first of all in the daudmartin brainrot corner we've got
sequel to bctbk, as promised. i have a major "plot" point planned, and then it might go one of two directions... we shall see :3c
the high overseer martin/assassin daud fic that i've posted a few excerpts from. essentially daud manifests himself into the abbey suggestively asking for ~spiritual guidance~ (lol) and things escalate from there. this has to get finished at some point because its like one of the first things i started writing for them. it deserve to see the light of day
a mildly humorous high overseer martin/spymaster daud fic. kind of a challenge for myself also- i find spymaster daud hard to imagine, and am not that used to writing daudmartin where they're not constantly trying to one-up/double cross each other/at each other's throats flirtatiously. presumably will not be nsfw (or at least, i'm not planning on it, but i make no promises. can't know where the ol inspiration will take me).
oh heres another high overseer martin thing! who wouldve thought! this time with Responsibility and Abbey Politics and Decisions. and working through issues. so many fucking issues. this one is actually actively in the works so ill leave it at that for now ;>
daudmartin pwp with genuinely 0 plot. like, negative plot. this thing defies plot. i can barely even tell you if it's an au or what, i might sprinkle a few nonsexual sentences in if i'm feeling generous but that's it. other than that it's literally just about martin being very quiet during sex and daud trying every trick he has in his book (which admittedly isn't many) to change that instead of like, communicating
augh speaking of plot-defying pwps. "what if overseers had (some appropriate equivalent to) confessions". there is some lore in here obviously but the entire point of it is confessional dirty talk. i dont KNOW
[REDACTED] pwp which im not even gonna advertise itll just appear one day and if you find it you found it
mostly unplanned ideas that i might flesh out: sokolov portrait thing. some dunwall noir stuff purely for martin in a cassock reasons (and sexualising religious guilt reasons. if i knew anything at all about priests i'd be working on this much faster). something involving the outsider appearing to martin (this might just get absorbed in a more well fleshed out idea at some point). martin Suffering More, because i want him in a situation where his wit fails completely (more desperation! more excuses! i am weak for this i really am.). something involving some more Action- fighting together against an acute threat? i think there should be more fighty martin out there. i am the change i want to see in the world
(not including the various snippets for the eternal serkonan vacation au which i already laid out there)
in the thief crossover brainrot corner (i bet you forgot i allude to thief crossovers in my description!)
also a sokolov portrait thing, but i have it way more planned out. corvo really, really wants garrett to sit in for a portrait (especially now when he's officially the empire's shadiest most mysterious spymaster ever). he reluctantly agrees, but Under One Condition.
a sort of relationship chronicle via heart lines. definitely starts with corvo's diplomatic mission and possibly ends with some happy dh2 era content. obviously i have the heart lines planned out.
possibly something involving more political intrigue/royal drama type stuff? i'm lucky enough to have access to someone who can give me some really good examples/plots if i fail to come up with anything myself.
(this is just a thief thing but i have had a viktoria/lt. mosley thing running around my brain for AGES. i want to explore how their relationship develops so bad. i know they have literally one interaction in canon but they are my blorbinas and i have mentally expanded their backstories so hard the story is basically begging to be written at this point)
anyway if you read this unreasonably unnecessarily long post i love you. i am sending you a kiss. wanna get married
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